Music and emotion: a personal story

Music is a way to express human emotion, and most likely has existed in its basic form for as long as homo sapiens has been roaming this planet. It has been researched extensively; we know that listening to music has measurable effects on the human mind and body.

It almost functions like a drug, which can be used in both positive and negative ways. I recently read a report about surgeons in Turkey playing live music for their patients after surgery, demonstrably resulting in a positive effect on their vital functions. On the negative side, it has become known how music has been used as a form of torture, in Guantanamo Bay, Abu Ghraib and other modern facilities of man-inflicted horror.

Like any form of communication, music is how one human being conveys something to other humans. This traffic of emotion therefore starts at the musician’s end, and could impossibly result in emotions on the receiving end if these were not communicated by the music maker in the first place.

This is where the personal part of the story comes in. Those who read my writings know that I don’t often venture into the personal, and that I mostly keep my articles rational and analytical. Those who know my songs, however, know that they are the carriers of my emotion. As far as I can recollect, this is the first time I am writing about this, and as I ponder on this subject, I thoroughly realize that creating music is truly a vulnerable process. At least, for me it is.

The toughest situations in the struggle against Zionism could not deter me when it comes to preparing a speech or writing an article. These activities are not undertaken without emotion, on the contrary, they are driven by them. Isn’t anger over injustice an emotion, or the wish for an end to a racist occupation? Nevertheless, in the actual expression itself the emotion is minimized, and this is what makes it possible to do these things regardless of the emotional state of mind I find myself in. Not so with music.

The musical me is vulnerable, as much as I hate to admit it. Deep emotions are always involved in the birth of any song, but when it has been composed – it mysteriously originates in my mind, almost in a state of completion, in melody and words – it must still be played and recorded. This process is partly cerebral, but only where it involves certain elements of the process of arranging and mixing; most of it is a process driven by inspiration. As I said, the entire song already exists in my mind, but it has to be expressed by playing the various instruments and singing the vocals. As long as the wave of emotion that inspired the song is still there, this happens almost automatically.

Nevertheless, the slightest disturbances can disrupt this process, or even stop it altogether. I am sure there is no musician in the world – even among those most celebrated – who never runs into negative comments, or indifference. I often wonder if they struggle with it the way I do. If someone gives a very negative comment, does it also block their creative juices? Can it also disrupt their creative flow, as it does with me, or am I just relatively weak when it comes to this?

I marvel at the contrast between my strong personality in work situations, as well as in activism, and my relative vulnerability whenever my music is in question. Negative experiences truly affect me when it comes to this, like an artist I have often worked with recently very unexpectedly not wanting to record a track for a song of mine, based on its message. It can even be much pettier than that, like people who structurally ignore my musical efforts although they are down for the Palestinian cause, communicate with me regularly, and have extraordinarily easy access to the songs. I am not proud of the fact that this affects me, but I must admit that it does.

Is this an experience shared by all those who make music, or is it just me? I have heard similar sounds from others, but I still sometimes wonder, and look for ways to become stronger in this respect. Fortunately, these negative effects are also balanced by their opposite. Positive feedback functions as an enormous boost, to the extent that it might end up opening all the creative channels in my mind and increase my musical productivity. Recently, a few articles which I have republished on my website were written about my music, which without a doubt have sorted in a strong effect of encouragement for me.

Just in case some anti-Palestinian elements start considering the above an invitation to flood me with hate and criticism, I must be fair and tell the whole story about this issue. The only negative feedback that I am automatically able to convert into a positive feeling, is when Zionists react negatively to my work. This invariably is interpreted as a sign that I am doing something right.

I have no right to complain, with so many people having signed up at my Facebook page, and I suppose that throughout the years, I have indeed been able to mobilize a sizable audience for my songs. I will have to accept the downs in order to appreciate the ups. I must thank Allah for having given me this way to express myself. I once told a friend: you don’t really know me, until you know my music, and in a sense this is true. I don’t know for how long I will be around to do this, but I have given a piece of myself to the world in song.

What will happen to these pieces of emotion, I must be prepared to leave to the course of Fate. And, stubborn as I am, this is not always easy, but I do try. I guess I will keep trying!

Doc Jazz