It’s human nature to conflate talent and personal taste.
There are too many examples to make a definitive list. But for a start we’ll discuss music.
I would describe my listening habits as a notch past surface level. The sound needs to grab my attention before the artistry can hold me hostage.
If I’m not immediately grabbed by the sounds, I won’t stick around to appreciate what an artist has to say. There are exceptions to this rule of course, but as a general guide it tracks.
It is a case of judging a book (or song) by it cover. That doesn’t mean it’s a bad view though.
If we say music is a form of art then why would I force myself to enjoy a song because “the artist spent a lot of time on it.” I’m certain that I have discarded songs of great artistic value because I didn’t like the sound.
And sometimes I come around and enjoy them later in life.
An example everyone will, in theory at least, recognize is “Hotel California” by the Eagles.
I recall hating it as a kid. As an adult though i don’t remember why i hated it so much.
Upon becoming my own person, i made an active effort to turn off the song every time I heard it. It’s plausible to think that if i didn’t make a conscious decision to do that for a decade I wouldn’t have hated it.
It’s also likely I didn’t understand the lyrics, or the meaning. Twelve year old me would ask “why can’t he leave”
I now know it was a vague allegory for vice.
But it wasn’t discovering the allegory that made me enjoy the song. It wasn’t recognizing the deeper meaning that changed my feelings towards it.
One day I decided I liked the sound.
“Oh, this isn’t as bad as I remember.”
My tastes changed, but I couldn’t pin-point when it happened. Liking “Hotel California” was a side effect, not the catalyst.
The artistry hadn’t changed since 1976. Hell, I wasn’t a passing thought then.
If I had to guess though, I would say I connected with it more.
I was like any kid who got chewed up by the public school system and spat out like chewing tobacco. Unprepared for life’s harsh realities.
It was growing into a society where the drug addicts you see online are real people. Alcoholism has a name and a face. The realization you get looking into a stranger’s eye suffering from addiction.
“We’re not so different, you and I”
I never fell into substance habits. But i fought my share of demons. The human experience tends to be generic in nature. What separates us is how we choose to handle the punches we get thrown.
When I hear that dreamy guitar start on my stereo now, my brain doesn’t jump to universal suffering.
It thinks about child-like innocence.
I remember the time before I knew what the world had in store for folks like me.
Above all, I remember hope.
If you were to ask me what i thought my childhood felt like I’d have an immediate answer.
“Listening to Hotel California for the first time.”
Thank you,
-TME