The Individual Magic of Their Genius
Introducing the Enchanter Series | Castles in the Sky #29
I’ve known Enchanters my whole life, but one of the first ones to really pull back the curtain and show me how to inspect the weave on the fabric of the universe was my friend Andrew.
Through high school, I only listened to rap and R&B, with the occasional emo thrown in (usually because of a girl I had a crush on). I didn’t like rock and basically thought, “if it has a guitar in it, it’s boring.” In college, I became close friends with Andrew, a guy in an improv troupe we were both in. I found out soon after meeting him he was a virtuoso guitarist: he’d taken lessons since he was four or five years old and was always in a band. He was a year older than me and I looked up to him a lot.
We hung out all the time. But he had a car and I didn’t, so he drove everywhere and almost never let me pick the music we listened to. His taste was eclectic and completely foreign to me. Whenever I would put on a song, he was not quiet about why he didn’t like it. I remember on one rare occasion getting his iPod and getting to choose the song. I scrolled to the D’s under artists and saw Dillinger Escape Plan, Django Reinhardt, Dream Theater–alongside a bunch of other names I’d never heard of, but not DJ Khaled, which is what I was looking for. I remember putting on Throw Some D’s by Rich Boy and he said, “this beat is just one note over and over.” I had no idea what he was talking about. Then I remember putting on Rage Against the Machine and he said, “Tom Morello does cool stuff but all their music is kind of boring 4:4.” Again, no idea.
We had a lot in common: we did improv comedy together, liked a lot of the same books, and watched a lot of the same movies. So we did have a shared aesthetic vocabulary–on everything except music. A lot of the rock music he played just sounded like noise to me. I eventually started asking him why he liked some of the music he played, and he would explain. Eventually, my stance on rock and all things guitar softened enough that I asked him to educate me on what made rock good. What started as listening to a couple songs turned into us spending the weekend at his apartment listening to Led Zeppelin albums I-IV.
I still remember his tiny bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Colleges Station, Texas. Imagine how a fastidious, somewhat well-off nineteen year old man would decorate a small, nondescript apartment–and that’s what you’ve got: a decent bed straight from Target, a desk built into the wall, a closet full of band T-shirts, and posters on the wall with oblique references to bands and drugs. There was literally nothing worth staying in his room for, but except when we would drive to get food or I would sleep on his couch, I spent the whole weekend in there.
We started with track 1 of Led Zeppelin I, Good Times Bad Times. I was so unfamiliar, I thought at first the record was skipping, then realized it was on purpose, and Robert Plant sang:
“In the days of my youth, I was told what it means to be a man. Now I’ve reached that age, I’ve tried to do all those things the best I can.”
Andrew would never pause the music, he would just turn the volume down to explain something that was happening with the beat, or the guitar, or the singing, and then he would use rewind back to where he had started talking. My mind dove deeper and deeper into the song. What was before a flat, boring, “guitar song” grew textured and multifaceted before me in real-time. We were no longer in his bedroom but floating, disembodied on the interdimensional waves of music. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect for the next song, but was completely rocked by something totally different, Babe I’m Gonna Leave You.
This went on all weekend. I learned about how time signatures change the feel of a song, what improvisation in music is, the difference between blues and rock, the difference between acoustic and electric, how each member of a band and each instrument affects the sound of a song, the influences that formed Led Zeppelin–not just musicians, but things as diverse as The Lord of the Rings–and the influence Led Zeppelin had on other groups.
That weekend was an epochal, mind-expanding experience for me. It would not be an exaggeration to say that every time I have listened to music since then, I have filtered it through something I learned from Andrew.
That weekend taught me that there is a specific type of person who can really teach me new things. I had always loved people and loved ideas and loved art, but I realized how much I can learn from someone with whom I have a shared vocabulary, but who also has a deep experience with and love of a field I know nothing about. It also helps if that person is not afraid to “big brother” me, or treat me like a younger sibling when they explain something. Meaning, they are a little playful, but they are not afraid to show that they know more than me.
I relish finding this type of person in my personal life and “in the wild” of the internet. Spending time with them is a great way to find Castles in the Sky–those ideas that change the way you see the world, the ones you read that make you push away from your desk and stare into space to let them unfold. I have gained so much joy and insight from some of the creators I follow on the internet, that I have developed a series to share their work with my own audience.
And so I’m going to borrow a lens from Vladimir Nabokov, arguably the greatest prose stylist ever, who said you needed to consider a writer in three essential roles:
There are three points of view from which a writer can be considered: he may be considered as a storyteller, as a teacher, and as an enchanter. A major writer combines these three—storyteller, teacher, enchanter—but it is the enchanter in him that predominates and makes him a major writer.
A great writer is always a great enchanter, and it is here that we come to the really exciting part when we try to grasp the individual magic of his genius and to study the style, the imagery, the pattern of his novels or poems.
Starting this month, I will be sharing excerpts and ideas from some of the creators I like the most so that others can “grasp the individual magic of their genius.” Together, these posts will be called The Enchanter Series. The yardstick I use for including someone in the Enchanter Series is very simple: I like what they make, it makes me think, and I think other people should know about it. Sometimes I might do a comprehensive review of their body of work, sometimes I might simply highlight one thing they created.
I hope to do for others with the Enchanter Series what Andrew did for me. By diving deep and sharing my appreciation of these creators, I hope that I can inspire others to appreciate their work and have a mind-expanding experience similar to mine.
This is exactly the type of writing I want to read. I hope what I see in your series will help me be a better writer as well. I teach art, and as such I write quite a bit about it. My purpose is always to make them say, "I can't wait to try what you just said!" It was interesting to hear your experience and with music. I love music and get lost in it, lost in singing along, and wondering where the lyrics came from.
What a great experience yuo had with Andrew. I can distinctly remember listening to Dark Side of the Moon in high school and having my world torn apart. I kind of wish I'd had an Andrew to take me deeper into the craft of the music. If I had, I might never have stopped playing.
I'm so excited for this series. Can't wait to see where it goes.