This Note’s for You 
        
        Swimming upstream 
        to music
        
        
        By Keith Waller
        
        
        
        What kind of music do you listen 
        to, or play? In the beginning of my musical quest, back in my tweens, I 
        could respond quickly to that question by naming a few key artists or 
        genres of music. Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that 
        now and find the question a little more difficult to qualify. 
        
        The problem comes in trying to 
        distinguish between all those pesky genres, the seemingly separate and 
        distinctly different categories that we favor according to our personal 
        tastes. These terms come in handy when trying to figure out where to 
        find a disk in the music stores, but suggests that different styles of 
        music exist in a vacuum, without apparent connection. 
        I’m finding the more I listen to 
        and play music, the more I’m led back to the same point in time, to a 
        confluence of musical styles. Call this the four main ingredients of 
        popular music. For me, that confluence is located in the southern United 
        States around the period of the 1920s when early urban jazz met country 
        blues, gospel music of the rural South and European folk music 
        traditions. We all know who the baby was that came from this union and 
        what it was named: Rock ‘n’ roll. 
        However, I don’t think you can 
        look at that moment in time as begetting just one thing. Like an 
        explosion that gives birth to a lot of things at once, it’s the 
        birthplace of everything we know as popular music. 
        Just downstream of this 
        confluence, the river divides into a maze of channels. All the main 
        genres—rock, blues, jazz and soul—start dividing into numerous 
        sub-genres. The river just keeps branching out, with channels going off 
        in all directions and coming back together again, but it’s still the 
        same river. My 13-year-old son will disagree that the heavy metal music 
        he is listening too has anything to do with my Blind Willie McTell 
        records, but the dots do connect. Travel back upstream far enough and 
        you arrive at the same source. 
        In the American melting pot of 
        music, the separate ingredients that went into the stew have become so 
        thoroughly blended that it can be difficult to single out the individual 
        flavors. And that’s the great thing about our musical heritage, what 
        went into the stew doesn’t really matter; we just know that it tastes 
        good.
        
        
        
        Keith Waller, an engineer, is an 
        avid music fan and guitarist.