Confessions of a music blogger

Since 2010, I have been writing content.

I posted the archives on what is now my third hosting service provider.

I look back at some of the entries from 2010. I promise you, if I hadn’t recorded the weekends that went by in those glory days, I would have forgotten most of the venues and performers I mentioned. What a time to be alive. What a time to be active on the scene.

Fast forward to today. I’m feeling a bit lost. Music has been a driving staple for me since the age of twelve. There was some direction. First rock, then indie, then house. It was like a current carrying me over as I floated from buoy to buoy, event to event.

What is interesting about age, is that not only we as individuals change, but the world around us changes, too. If I was 34 years of age in 2002, or 2010, or 2015 for example, what would I think about house music today? Would I care? Well, I’m 34 today. And I care today. I think I’ll always care.

The music scene that’s developed here has formed a strong essence of my identity, and now it seems stale, directionless, lost. Is this what codependency looks and feels like? Lol. I laugh. Because I am feeling somewhat the same.

Perhaps the universe is beckoning me to identify myself away from music. I did that once, forsook it all for the hedge fund lifestyle. And nothing made me happier than to come home to the Miami music culture.

There is a hit of dopamine still in my brain when I say those words – “Miami music culture.”

But alas, I’m living in a new world. The year is 2022. People are resistant to mixing in and mingling with strangers. A subliminal fear meets vanity has eroded the connection that once used to sweep through a venue, any venue.

We live on a 4×2″ block, a tool that replicates the notion that we are at the center of the universe – just look at my feed. As if having one head wasn’t bad enough for ego-trips, now we have 7-10 depending on how many apps we’re active on.

Anyways, maybe this is what lifelong relationships look like. My brother-in-law once told me that in marriage, you don’t just have bad weeks or months, sometimes you have bad years. Well, in this relationship with music – one of the longest I’ve ever had – I have seen plenty of bad years. I have also seen such gold. When do you walk away? According to marriage, never. Is that natural? Are life-long commitments natural? I suppose they are. Otherwise, what is parenthood? Parenting is a life-long commitment. And to parent is natural. So I answered that question.

I think the position I’m in beckons maturity. It beckons a grasp on reality. Nothing stays the same. And as life goes on, things get harder. It gets harder to stay strong, fit, happy, content, make time for things that matter. Don’t ask me why – it just does. Maybe it goes down to the very cellular level.

Music just used to be so easy. It was a no-brainer. Of course, I’m going out for music, duh.

Where has the culture gone? Perhaps that’s the point of this confession. I feel like my partner has disappeared. Abandoned. Like I don’t already have enough abandonment trauma LOL. (if you can’t laugh about your trauma yet, just keep going…)

I mean, I have my Spotify. I have my Shazams. But I’m telling you, I enjoyed the music scene so much more when these apps didn’t exist. I bought CDs. I listened to songs at a club I’d never know the title of. I suppose that left room for me to care about the people in the room, left space for me to explore myself as well.

I’ve been having issues with trust and commitment if you can’t tell. And when something doesn’t just happen on its own, well I’m the best at critiquing it, but what else do I really do?

I’m working on my company. I’m working on putting together an app that connects us to human interactions through music. Maybe I’m too late, but I have to try. Otherwise the machines have already won.