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Everything is musical. The grinding of a dump truck; jackhammers; white noise; the haunted weals of a seagull-it's all rhythmic and transports us in a most discernible way. Still, it's difficult to convince others why the rattling of chains might be considered exquisite and preferable at that precise moment to the most lilting, delicate aria. Some are aroused by brutal, shocking bursts of feedback; the tyranny of pure, unadulterated noise crashing in and emphatically changing one's relation to other things. This too is musical if you dare to listen and pick out the pulses and the pattern held within.

Yes, we are surrounded by music but most of us choose to either ignore it proclaim it as something to be avoided at all costs. We are limited by our definition of music and perpetually go back to those sounds that comply with it. Rarely do we seek out new sounds. Your average Country fan is hardly going to turn her ear to the latest Black Metal aggressions coming out of Sweden. Loretta Lynn has lead very few people to Burzum. Most of us stick with music that reminds us of a specific time in our lives. We are emotionally attached to songs that conjure up favorable memories from our self-mythologized past. Still, there are those of us who's love of music cannot and will not be confined to any type. To truly love music means being able to fully enjoy everything it contains. This means the most ear-piercing, violent conniptions, Madame Butterfly, Tartini, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Boyd Rice, and that fat kid in the corner beating a t-bone steak against his thigh.

Music is an affliction that bores its way into our skulls and fills our heads with false promises. It contaminates us with desire that we naturally, immediately want to act upon. It triggers us slowly, effortlessly, and we feverishly want to connect with something that reflects this rage, sorrow, joy, longing back to us. Music puts us into a position to accumulate, to violate, to reach further into the chasm and pull out something pure, necessary and acute. A good DJ controls the beat; she manipulates sounds so that they will have the greatest capacity to effect the collective mood of the crowd.

We are often helplessly tossed about by the hearing of a new song. We are held hostage for three or four minutes and the order of things ceases to possess any inherent meaning. For the briefest of moments we are transformed, confused, launched into thought processes that are alien and utterly foreign. We are both blessed

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