I’m a concerter by heart. It’s a vicious cycle: when i have lost all the answers, i turn to music, music of my friends, for their take on life and love. I like to listen to the music, the words and the everything in between. Most of the time, I like to find a way to describe them. And when i’m soaked to the bone, i will write my stories to continue these thoughts.
Then there is the after-concert bites and chats, something that is exclusive to friends, family and, perhaps a few, fans of these musicians only. You hear the thoughts that run through them when they inject their souls into the songs. Sometimes, you understand why hits are mundane, or why so much effort was still exerted to prevent unpreventable mistakes. You hear their hopes, their confusions, their preferences and prejudices even in music. And you learn a little about yours as well.
My music is who my friends are. It’s not contradictory to say that I owe my works to their existence and the existence of their music, while saying that I have carved a style entirely different from theirs altogether. But i know the lot of us: we are so unique in our own ways. Well, at least maybe, not i; but you are. That’s why i’ll always come to support you, wherever you may be in the future. Even as i longed ever for the complimentary tickets to your shows all the time, i wouldn’t mind chipping my fair bit of the fees to watch you ‘live’. Because, to you on that pedestal gazing at us, i’m not just your friend; but your supporter, your audience.
Your fan, always.
Thank you for the Summer Weekends: