COM359 Assignment. -- Autobio

Musical Autobiography

Glenn Smith

11.10.21

Music hits me hard and sweetly. Its place in my heart is located deep within. Music has gotten me through some of the tougher times in my life, and I have come to appreciate it as a powerful force. It has altered my entire way of thinking, not the least in how I can never get some form of music out of my head. Ever-present and looming, music guides and protects me. The right music, anyway.

Given this gravity of potential and purpose I have bestowed, by sober choice, upon the thing that is music, I have high standards for those pieces of the form I consider worthwhile. I view music from a musician's perspective, with a critical ear. It's a practice most people cannot stand, I've found.

Criticisms come to mind first when hearing new music. How could it be better? Was it written and performed from a place of integrity? Is it relevant to the entire canon of recorded music, and additionally to the current climate of musical evolution? Is it a rehashed version of a tried and true formula? If so, is that reason to be made nauseous, or is it tolerable, with possibly a few strands of newness mixed in with the rehashed drivel? Is it truly new, and if so, is it exciting? Is it worth studying? Is it worth buying? My critical ear brings me pleasure--it sets me apart from the masses who, it seems to me, blindly consume whatever is the newest shit that's thrown in front of them.

Guitar playing is a big part of my life as well; it helped me formulate my conception of what music is capable of. I've not gone one week without playing since I began, and my skill has noticeably improved--it was the learning of Megadeth and Metallica songs that pushed me over the edge into total playing confidence. A minority of guitarists out there can play that shit, and it makes me proud that I've put in the time and energy to be able to. Without my knowledge of how songs are put together by first being written on guitar (or whatever instrument), and then fleshed out with accompanying instruments, and the skill it takes, I never would have developed my critical ear, or my playing skill.

Uncle Brad gave me my first guitar at age 13. It was an electric guitar, a Teisco; older than sin and stiff then. Not many people recognize that brand anymore; it's a relic. It helped me learn the ropes. It still exists to this day, older and stiffer, sitting untouched on a guitar stand in a cousin's room in Bellingham. At age 14, my parents upgraded me to a newer, shinier, black and white electric Peavey guitar and a sweet, loud-ass practice amp. Since age 16 I've been writing my own material; at 19 I'd written my first song on acoustic guitar.

There are a few things I want to do before I die. One is to lead a successful band that plays big shows to large crowds. This band will be my own, where I write and control everything. At my back will be a huge orchestra at my disposal. They'll sit at the back of the stage, behind the main sextet--three guitarist/singers, a keyboardist, drummer, and a bassist.

With three guitars I can have two of them always doing dueling harmony lines, and one filling in with power chords, which the bass will mime. ...hm. Maybe the keyboardist will be unnecessary. Perhaps I can just have a pianist in the orchestra. We're a quintet, everyone! Now we're a quintet. (my imaginary backstage crew grumbles)

My music will be like that of the composer character in Atlas Shrugged, Richard Halley. It will make my  concertgoers feel the highest, most noble emotion there is to be felt. The only difference between Halley and I will be that, when the crowd cheers for me after my grand symphony, and I'm standing there center stage, soaking it in, I won't see through them; I won't be unmoved; I will love them back.