Jim-W said:
It might be more even more serious than that, Charlie! I've reached a point, God knows I hope it's temporary, where music seems less interesting than it did to the extent that I just don't feel like listening to anything. I think a few weeks away from the whole thing would cure it: no record-player, computer or earphones. I've seen this happen in other people's lives and now it's happening in mine. I'm saturated with the stuff.
I don't want to be prodded into an emotional response by music, books and films. Leave me alone! Ha!
Going on holiday in a few weeks: that might cure it.
Hi Jim,
I hear you, I hear you. On many occasions recently I could say ditto to the above. Without disclosing too much personal info, there's a lot of tension and strife in my life at the moment and music has variously been shifted, nudged, brutally hurled from its central place in my life. I've found myself consciously questioning the stuff I'm listening to: is it music? why does it sound so ill-constructed? I used to love this stuff but now it's just blank vibrations, why? And on. . .
It's lasted hours, days, weeks, months at various times, it ebbs and flows, possibly dependent on the other stresses and strains of real life. That much is fairly obvious, I suppose.
I take refuge in tea. Oh, and then that leads to R3 and that leads to Mahler and that leads to R.Strauss and that leads to Shostakovich and that leads to Bartok and that leads to Cowell and that leads to Varese and that leads to Frank and that leads to Don. And then I'm simulataneously and temporarily cured and condemned.
A helpless, hopeless case.
This morning at 6am whilst the rest of the household slept I had the urge to play Side 1 of Geogaddi. So I did. A mostly sound-proofed room, a pot of Assam and I was in a good place. So it does still work me, occasionally.
Good luck, I feel your pain. And other clumsy colloquialisms of internet empathy.