‘Music – Vocal or instrumental sounds (or both) combined in such a way to produce beauty of form, harmony and expression of emotion’. I think somebody needs to ring up the folks over at Oxford and tell them their dictionary is terrible. I mean, it’s more a description of what music should be, and not at all what it has been like since 1990.
Nowadays, it should be – ‘Music: A series of repetitive drum beats and the like with absolutely no artistic integrity, only in existence to annoy the majority on the bus and to initiate inebriated actions in nightclubs often leading to riotous unruly coitus in said nightclub bathroom, all the while making some lunatic who dresses like a prat, and who lives in Hollywood, extremely rich and often without a single care for the people who listen to their complete crap, who deserve to burn in hell for what they’ve done to music’.
Of course, many people are sensible enough to realize this music isn’t music, and find true music elsewhere. I am one. Of millions, just like that. Music for me can only be one thing. I didn’t really listen to music until my brother introduced me to rock and I found a voice. I found a heart. I found understanding. I found guidance. I found rebellion. I found myself. If music doesn’t speak to me, it isn’t music to me. Just noise. Music is a part of me, a part of my heart. It’s an escape from the world around and a deeper understanding of the world within.
What is music to you, readers?
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