Listening to music over and over contaminates it.


Listening to music over and over contaminates it.

Repeated listening robs the music of autonomy.

Listening is stealing.

Reading is a collaboration. Music soaks me up. It absorbs me. When I go back to a piece of music over and over I erode its inner direction and I colonize it. The music loses its own meaning and becomes part of the cement of my neural pathways.

Listening is  a kind of violence.

Listening waters music down to become nostalgia. The more I listen, the more I domesticate it. I pull it apart in order to conquer it. The music will never make me feel that way again.

To listen once is to be taken over.

To listen twice is to decide to fight back.

To listen more and then more is to refuse music its autonomy and deny its power to cleanse and transform me. It renders the sound stagnant. A sitting duck. The sound can’t fight against my fluidity.

When music repeats  – regardless of space or time – it’s for our comfort and to draw us further away from the sacred moment the sound took us outside of ourselves.

I stain the music with the ears blood rush and it is never the same after I have listened.