What kind of music do you play?

(Photo by Arthur Uyeyama.)

A few days ago, I launched a conversation on a discussion board about the question "What kind of music do you play?"

My post was mostly tongue-in-cheek, highlighting the inevitable inadequacy of whatever I say (usually a variation of "contemporary folk singer-songwriter").

The responses I received were entertaining. Some were lighthearted while others were surprisingly serious. One person suggested that, because I took note of how difficult it is to answer the question, I must not have spent much time defining my art. (My guess is, neither has he. And that's okay.)

The discussion made me notice, more clearly, the many times the question is asked. Coincidentally, it's been asked a lot over the last few days.

Last Wednesday, I had just arrived at Pape Station to play and was tuning my guitar. A man stopped to watch me and called over from the wall to ask "What kind of music do you play?" even though I was clearly just about to play whatever kind of music it was.

The second time, I was at a clothing store (Here & Now Clothing Co., 770 Queen St. East in Toronto, where I bought the cool top I'm wearing in the picture). The owners had been listening to my CD and seemed to want to find a way to describe it. They cast about for adjectives and similar-sounding artists (as I do), came up short, and happily talked with me about how difficult it is to describe an artist and about the challenge of finding the right career path and calling. We didn't come up with any brilliant insights, but we had a delightful conversation and I bought a very nice shirt for my brother.

Then last night I was at a concert by the superb guitarist Stephen Bennett. In the break, a friend-of-a-friend asked me again, "What kind of music do you play?" He asked it twice, genuinely interested. I offered him a few possible answers, and then said something like "I'm still learning how to answer that". An artist himself, he smiled and nodded.

As I sat in the church, listening to the beautiful melodies and note-patterns Bennett offered into the space, I continued to wonder at the question, and I felt ultimately it was the wondering that counted.

I'm always wondering what the most important parts of life are...what lessons I'm supposed to be learning. I'm always wondering where beauty and truth lies. I'm wondering whether a new melody or lyric might be a little more accurate in describing the often-baffling complexity that is being human.

In a sense, the opening up to the Creative Spirit is an asking of that question to the world: What kind of music do you play?

As I reflect on that question, may my songs be a mirror of that greater Music.