As a kid I was obsessed with music - the decades worth of pop that floated from the radio, my parents record collection and the dramatic classical music I heard in movies. Video clips and Top 40 countdowns bordered on sacrosanct: three and a half minute adventures in glamour and emotion to which I devoted countless hours.
Music moved me, it excited me - the chords, the melodies, the swells of strings and the layers of harmonies and sound. It lit up a part of my brain like nothing else could. Hours would fly by as I listened to track after track, pressing the headphones hard against my ears trying to absorb it all. I was a pop culture devotee. I sat at our Lowry electronic keyboard and worked out the songs I heard. Seeing I had a natural ear for music, my folks bought an old piano and promptly had me at lessons. Like plenty of suburban kids before me, I dreamt of "bright lights and big cities". I never really grew out of that fantasy, one that spurred me to move away and find some like-minded souls.
These days I'm lucky enough to make a living writing music - regular, short form things like tv commercials, but increasingly long form music for film.