Can't You Hear That?

 Tone impaired, not quite deaf but impaired enough to make it hard to follow a tune. That has been my curse since very early on. I have always loved music! I dreamt of being a musician as far back as I can remember. Sadly, those dreams were shattered when I entered the 6th grade at a new school. The school had a very good choir, directed by the 6th grade science teacher, and my mother insisted I should join the choir. 

I remember the day of the audition, still to this day. The teacher took me into the classroom and sat me by the piano. She then proceeded to give me some tests, clap in this way, follow these notes, sing from a music sheet. 

After the test she took me back outside and told my mom that, she was sorry, but I was not choir material. My mom was devastated, she was the only person that thought I could sing, I had long before recognized that I had not inherited my father’s ear. I figured if I did not audition, I would not have to face the truth, but my mother had insisted and now there we were. 

The reality of my condition did not prevent me from enjoying music of all genres and, growing up in Cuba meant I was able to listen to music in Spanish, but also in English, French, Italian and more. Language was never a barrier. 

I was elated when many years later I found out my son had inherited his mother’s ear and could not only carry a tune, but he also had a great musical talent. He started a band with his classmates when in 8th grade, they played a genre called “Metalcore.” I did not understand it, much. It was good music, but the words were obscured by the screaming and guttural sounds of the singer. 

They got good with the passing of the years and a few different singers. Their final year of high school they auditioned for a festival called “Taste of Chaos” or something similar. It was sponsored by a local radio station. They were looking for a local band to open for a long list of famous bands in an all-day long concert. They won! It was a wonderful experience; they got to meet and interact with many great musicians and bands they admired. Many gave them great advice. 

Sadly, they went on to different parts of the country for college and the band broke up at the end of the school year. 

For me, the hardest thing was when my son was growing up and he would ask me to enjoy a piece of music with him. He would talk about a specific sound or melody and his question, and frustration, was always: “can’t you hear that?” 

It was painful to realize that having been born with a gifted ear, he could not understand how I could not hear the same things he could. It took me a while and many different comparisons until I finally found one that he could relate to, before he finally understood what I felt. 

I still don’t get the appeal of the male gorillas having a shouting match in the jungle with some heavy metal on the background. (that’s what the guttural “singing” sounds to me) but I really appreciate my son’s insight and input. More than he probably knows. He will listen to everything and anything, at least once. 

So, thanks to him, I have been introduced to many bands I would not have listen to otherwise. Sometimes I don’t have much of a choice, I’d be visiting him, and he would tell me about a group and play the song right on the spot. 

That is how I came to learn about “The Hu”. The conversation went something like this: 

“Dad, have you heard of “The Hu?” 

“Of course I have,” I responded, “they sing Who are you, Won’t Get Fooled Again, Pinball Wizard, Behind Blue Eyes...” 

“No dad, not “The Who”, “The Hu” 

And that’s how I got my first exposure to a Mongolian Heavy Metal band. They sing in Mongolian, which I do not speak. They play traditional instruments with horse heads and other carvings. The craftsman in me loved the instruments right away, and then I fell in love with their music. I could not understand a word, but there was something in their singing that got to me, in a deeper level. 

I have found many other bands and musicians since then. More recently a new version of “The Sound of Silence” by Disturbed, made me listen to more of their music. I think that song, while interpreted by many since Simon and Garfunkel wrote it, was made for David Draiman to sing. I felt something with his interpretation that I had never felt before. I understood the meaning of the song, for the first time. 

So, I continue to explore new music and musicians, some I like and others not so much. But what I have learned is that just like everything in life, you can’t limit yourself to what makes you comfortable. If you want to experience life, to its fullest, you must be willing to put up with a “little noise,” before finding your perfect melody. 

Until next time, I welcome your comments and suggestions.