six strings of joy

One of the reasons I wanted to live alone again is so that I could have the space to really start working on my music again. (God, that sounds pretentious! But it's true, nonetheless.) I've been working on the whole singer-songwriter schtick for the better part of a year now, and I've recently realized that if I'm going to move much further with it, I'm gonna need a partner.

I put a couple of ads on craigslist looking for someone to collaborate with, but nobody really felt like a good match. I was about to give up looking, when lo and behold, I heard from my good friend J, who used to front a band I was in. (No, you never heard of us. Nobody ever heard of us; the sum total of our playing experience began at the Central Square YMCA and ended with an open mike at the Burren.)

After a couple of hours trying out some songs together, I remembered how amazingly good it feels to make music with another person. By myself, I can sing and strum a few chords. With J, my songs sounded like music - there were new melodies, fuller harmonies, and - most importantly - the indescribable quality that comes of two people playing off of one another's ideas, the quality that makes a song really come alive.

A pessimist to the end, I'm still not convinced the partnership is going to work out as fully as I currently hope it will. I''m too insecure about my own playing, and we're both a little too busy to devote the time and energy regular public performing would require. But it's so much fun. . .

My apartment seems a little quieter now than it did before.