A couple weeks ago, a friend recommended a new band to me, saying they thought they had a lot of qualities similar to U2, who they knew were my favorite band. When I listened to some of the band's songs on YouTube, something didn't quite connect. I couldn't figure out what it was at first. I thought the music was interesting and unique, but it wasn't captivating me. (I won't say the name of the band so I don't get a bunch of hate, 'cause the point of this isn't to hate on that particular band.)
In the time since then, it occurred to me that one of the strongest (subconscious) criteria I have for liking a band is that I have to acquire some sort of kinship with the singer. They need to communicate with me through their lyrics and expressiveness that they are on my side. It's not enough to just have music that sounds cool, or to have a pretty voice, or even to have lyrics that make me think or tear up or generate whatever kind of emotional response. I need to know that you, the singer, are a comrade and not just a series of words wailing at me to try to make me react in a certain way.
I think that's why no band will ever surpass U2 as my favorite; I just have too much of a kinship with Bono and his perspective--not just on global issues (everyone is aware that Bono is a warrior for justice, which I esteem him tremendously for) but also in a million other ways--his philosophy that each song, not just the outright "spiritual" ones should be sung as a prayer, his lack of fear to leave dark twists in his lyrics that keep them honest.
Sometimes this kinship can be established pretty quickly, as was the case the first time I heard this song on the radio. I didn't think anyone would ever so precisely draw out such a keen, existential view of music and culture in a way that would make my brain go, "Hey! I've been kind of feeling that for...well, a while!" (Am I alone in this? Listen and do tell.)
But as is more often the case, people have to gain my trust. It's like a friendship. Chris Martin didn't just walk up and have my heart. I mean, I guess I liked "Speed of Sound" and "Clocks" just fine, and he sounded pretty good, but it wasn't until I heard the yearning, adamant, and honest cries of "Yes" and "Death And All His Friends" that I was OK with moving forward in the relationship.
I use the word "honest" a lot. Honesty's a key thing. Don't betray that which is true, that which is ultimate, by going singing about that which isn't. Especially if you put forth evidence that you know what's true (Hm hmm cough cough Black Eyed Peas).
And this brings forth another point in my mind. I kind of think maybe I don't blame all those crazy fangirls who know way too much about their favorite boy band, because, well, I realize that I, without fail, develop a desire to know more and more about all my favorite bands--who they are as people--and then fulfill these desires a la Wikipedia. Wikipedia should give me an honorary degree in musicology or something. (However, said girls are not exonerated for choosing horrible musicians, and sometimes horrible people, to care about.)
The culmination of this discovery of my need for a "relationship" with the singer came when I was listening to the new, debut album from Abigail Stauffer. What's special about listening to it is that I actually know Abigail a little bit, so the effect is compounded that much greater--it's like she's letting me read her journal. Now, this wouldn't mean much, of course, if what she put together wasn't worth hearing--it wouldn't matter that I know her if it stunk, but OH how it does not stink. I encourage--no, beseech--no, charge you...ORDER you to check out her music. Her website is http://www.abigailstauffer.com/fr_home.cfm. You won't regret it.
Anyways, I'm also curious to know whether anyone has this kind of perspective, or whether anyone else has thought about this before. Are you more concerned with the music, or even just the lyrics themselves without a thought of who's singing them? Or are there people who recognize kinship with me in my need for kinship?
