I listen to music because of humanity.

It's pure.

It's raw.

It's real.

It's that moment when you finish a piece, and your chest is heaving because you forgot how to breath, and you fell so in love with the song, you had a moment of pure, unadulterated euphoria.

I love music.

I love to listen to it.

There is a fragile humanity to folk music, good traditional stuff, from the back woods of Europe, and the UK, and the Americas, from the wilds of the Far and Middle East. It's a fragile, scraping hope, of a love lost forgot remembered.

Jazz, in it's many forms, and the unsubdued joi-de-vivre, That lust in every sense, of life love liberty.

Classical, it's sophisticated philosophy, of honour and duty, of the tradition practically begging to be broken yet kept whole, taped together with the yellowed scotch tape of concerts and private musicals.

A music genome. It's a simple concept. Each form of music has a genetic format, yet when you delve in, it becomes a tangled web, more complex then family politics at table.

What do we do?

We live.

We laugh.

We suffer.

We breathe.

We sing.

We dance.

We listen.

We write.

We music!