Any of you who lived through the eighties will recall those short ankle boots popularized by Duran Duran. I had a pair. All of my friends had a pair. And yes, you know it, you had a pair too… Mine were black. To match the fedora. Yeah. I know.
But I digress. What does all of this have to do with interconnectedness?
It has for a long time seemed to me that musical influence is not unlike spiritual transmission from one adept to another. If the Sex Pistols, David Bowie and Blondie left pieces of themselves in Duran Duran’s music, how many pieces of themselves did Duran Duran contribute to my musical heritage? How much Bowie and Blondie are left in the mix after it’s filtered through Duran? When I write or sing, I can’t help but be aware that it’s not only me up there, but actually every musician who’s ever meant something to me. And no other band has meant more to me than Duran Duran.
So I asked myself, what about my students? I’m now teaching the next generation of singers and songwriters. How many pieces of Duran Duran will be left in them after being filtered through me? The answer came to me in an amusing form.
green pants and – you guessed it…
What does this mean? In reality probably nothing, but over the past week it has served as a reminder that we are not always aware of the tiny ways in which we influence those around us and those who come after us. It was just a little funny nudge to keep me focused on our ultimate interconnectedness in all of its brilliant variety.