falling in music

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There’s something about music that makes you fall in love — even if momentarily. Even if superficially.

There’s something intoxicating about the combination of guitar and string bass. The slap of a palm on a steel guitar. The jig of fingers on bass strings.

It’s about 9 p.m. on a Sunday — too late to be in San Francisco on a work night. Yet I am caught up in the harmonies of two male voices.

The lead singer smiles occasionally, as if amused by his own lyrics. Some might find it arrogant. I find it slightly endearing and optimistic coming from someone so boyish.

The song is repetitive and tinny, but soothing in my present state.

The danger of such love is it is visceral and fleeting. So fleeting that the subject changes with the changing of acts.

As the second artist takes his first strum and manipulates the sound with a pull of the guitar’s neck, the opener becomes but a memory. Suddenly I am entranced with the dance his fingers perform up and down the strings, the silkiness of his voice sliding along with his hand. I am traveling with him through his love stories and heart breaks. I am remembering my own.

Suddenly there is nothing outside these brick walls on a city side street. Nothing but the light on the stage and the shift of his facial expressions from intense to playful to sincere to borderline sultry under the mysterious shadow his hat casts over his eyes. I am undone.

There is something about music that makes you fall in love. Even if just for now.

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