An Ironic Obsession

For those of you who haven't been keeping up, I become obsessed with songs very easily. I try to justify it in my mind and say that they are muses, they help me write. But let's be realistic. Even if it helped me write the great American novel, listening to Norah Jones sing "Sunrise" 109 times in 18 hours is nothing short of obsessive.

I'm even listening to it right now, guilt free. I love it.

Unfortunately, Norah was not the first victim of my obsession. Before her came many others, the most notable of which include, 

• Nickel Creek's "When You Come Back Down" 
• Joshua Radin & Schuyler Fisk's "Paperweight"
• Incubus' "Stellar" 
• Avett Brothers' "Murder in the City"

I hear it. I love it. I can't stop playing it. Usually the only reason I stop is because I find a new song to obsess over.

The strangest part of my musical affinity is that I know nothing about music. I am the person playing the air guitar when I should be playing the air drums. I am the person that can't carry a tune in a bucket, yet I spent 2 years in middle school chorus. I am that girl.

You know the one I'm talking about. The one who blasts her music 10 times louder than necessary so she can pretend she is a great singer. The one who closes her eyes and (ungracefully) grooves to the beat. The one who can't label artists, albums or genres to save her life, yet she can sing most any song that comes on.

I want to use words in the way that musicians use melodies, guitar rifts and mandolin solos. When I listen to songs it is rarely about the lyrical substance, but rather about the way my heart palpitates when the sound of the instruments reaches my soul.

I would cue the musical terminology, but we've clearly established my lack of technical knowledge. Nevertheless, everyone has that song. The one that can make them cry, laugh or just feel peaceful, even if only for a moment.

But seriously, listen to Norah Jones sing "Sunrise." It'll stir your soul. Or confirm my insanity. Either way, give it a go.