It is no secret I am a music nerd. Luckily I’m also dating a music nerd. We discover and share new music all the time, even making claims to “his” band or “my” band as per who discovered what first. The last long-term boyfriend I had didn’t like my music much at all and, believe it or not, I sometimes took it personally. I’m one of those people who is in part defined by my artistic taste. I appreciate opposing points of view, but if someone straight insults what I consider “my” music, I am truly offended.
I can’t believe I just admitted that.
I don’t feel this way at all over my other artistic bents though, and you can rip on any book, movie, or show I like — leave my music alone. Conversely, the current boyfriend is just as insulted if I get overly critical about a movie he shows me. I’m not a big movie fan, to say the least, but I do trust his judgment (except when he made me watch “The Specials” — I’ll never do that again).
And like Amanda, I was a completist once as well, but discovered that I like a whole rash of music, even the bad stuff.
I don’t try and impress passersby with my musical tastes, but if you’re a friend and spend even a bit of time with me, you will get exposed to a mess of musical styles. Just like I take pride in being able to select a book that a non-reader will like, I do take some pride in exposing music that mere dabblers can really get into.
It must be the thirteen years of piano lessons that did this to me. I can’t think of anything or anyone else that would have influenced this adoration for the art form.