Genres

I don’t have a favorite genre of music. 

Whether it be classical, choral, jazz, hip-hop, disco, musical theater, indie-rock, you name it, I love it. 

I can experience the same heavenly, transcendent experience listening to Beyoncé as I do Eric Whitacre. My musical palate is not limited to a certain kind of meter or key signature or even instrumentation and connotation. Whatever I’m listening to, in that moment, becomes my favorite song. 

I'm entranced by the strained, cigarette-stained throat of John Mayer as well as the animated, computed voice of T-Pain. When I put my iPod on shuffle, I close my eyes and let music take me in. I can see Randall Stroope’s cufflinks shimmer in the concert hall as “The Conversion of Saul” commences just as well as I see Michael Jackson’s glove delicately touch the microphone. I hear the Lord clap his mighty, appreciative hands at the soulful skill of Bille Holliday’s “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” and also for Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”.  

My soul is moved from earth to heaven in these sacred moments. One ‘music’ with succeeding, daughter sects does not exist; music is one, whole, and all-encompassing.

Music is greater than the boxes we put it in. It is more powerful than most realize. So no, I don't have a favorite genre. Music itself is my favorite genre. Each succeeding beat is a new revelation.

A new perspective. A new moment.

Can you hear it?