To be honest, a “Time Machine” band is difficult for me. As I will be the very first to admit I am no music guru. I don’t know band members, and I don’t really follow bands in general. I know, it might be blasphemy to be in a music writing class and not really have an interest in members themselves.
I don’t fall in love with a band, I fall in love with their message, the music man. Culturally, this has changed; Beatles, Bee Gees, NSYNC. These are the legends that the people fell in love, as a band, a coexisting holy ONE being. Bands were one with their music, and both were known and worshiped.
Now, we were worship the sound, and maybe get the feels for one band member: Adam Levine, Hayley Williams, and Harry Styles. We worship…the lead vocalists while the other band members get lost in the cloud that is their chariot. We bow down to the already narcissistic asses that adore the spotlight. I mean, don’t get me wrong; Jim Morrison and the other people, Bon Jovi and his tag alongs…these egotistical leaders have always been face of the band.
However, the “band” itself has been lost. The family that is the band is gone, at least to the audience. There seems to be only the face of the band now, and so, as I have learned to love the bands of past souls, I have adapted myself to that. I have been poisoned by the pretty faces of our culture of music. I am missing out on the musical talent outside of the shadow of the throat. I am sorry to you faceless guitarists that soothe my soul. To you hypnotic nameless drummers that replicate the sound of my lovers heart. To you forgotten pianists, because your finger dancing makes me cry; yet your name is lost to me. I am sorry that I can’t name you behind that sexy face and tattooed body that brainwashes me. Forgive me, for you are beautiful.
That’s why I can’t create my own band of blessed musicians, I don’t know them. I wish I did; I wish I had that knowledge. But, I am a twenty year old redhead lost in the music. Forgive me.