I like being in time to music. I like being able to move my feet, to tap my fingers, to nod my head and to sometimes thrash more violently in sync to music. Sometimes with people, but sometimes alone in my room, too.
I suppose if you’ve ever read anything I’ve written, it’s clear by now that music is intrinsically woven into my life, imparted to me by a mother & godparents who still spend a majority of their time listening to music into the late hours of the night. And as I’ve matured I’ve began to imitate the same practices. An alcoholic drink and a vinyl will make it all OK.
Then, I remember why I move my fingers in time to piano, or hit drums that don’t exist in the air in front of me - and I would love to claim it’s simply because I love music so much, and that it’s been with me since I was 2 months old, but no, it’s because of Roy Ayers, and a film that came out in 2015, when I was twelve.
When I saw this, the recreation of Dr Dre playing Everybody Loves The Sunshine, to nobody, just to match the track, with his eyes closed, surrounded by albums that I’m sure I’d find a few of in my mum’s collection, it made sense. Play the music you are listening to as a means of embracing the music you are listening to, as if you are the person on stage, or in the studio, playing the music for the crowds or the execs and convincing them that, yes, this song is beautiful and, yes, this song will make people move, and yes - you should play it too.
Everybody Loves The Sunshine is the only song that could do this job. To inspire me to play the music in my ears without ever touching an instrument, and I remember being on the bus home that year, when I was twelve, listening to Ayers and imitating this move onto my knee, and a kid next to me looking at me like I was a freak, and maybe it was weird to any outsider looking in, and not hearing what I was hearing, but I loved feeling like I was responsible for everything I was listening to.
Something about it just made sense.
To Mr Ayers, you changed the way I listened to music, and will forever listen to music. For that, I thank you. RIP Roy Ayers.