Fundamental observations, part 3

Learn to accept change, because it almost always beats stagnation.

This is probably easiest to recognize, as I first did, with respect to your favorite bands.  In my case, the most convincing demonstration was a double-bill of two of my favorite 60s folk bands.  The first set was taken by The Limeliters, who had gone through multiple changes of membership; substantially reshaped their musical style; and didn’t hesitate to showcase new material rather than the old.  The second set was taken by The Chad Mitchell Trio, who had not been touring regularly, and who brought back their classic line-up for this one-time concert.  They were playing mostly their classic repertoire, with a few updated songs, and are still consumate musicians, so the music sounded just like the classic albums.  This turned out to be the problem — I could just as easily have listened to the albums, since there didn’t seem to be any spark to it.  The music was solid, polished — and disappointingly stale.  (A note, just in case this post should reach any members of the band — I still love the music, and if the band wants to get back together and keep developing based on their classic style, I’ll gladly stand in line for the tickets.)  As for The Limeliters, I had to spend a few minutes adapting to the fact that it had actually changed over a 30 year period, and wasn’t the band I grew up with, but it didn’t take long to learn to love their new style as well as the old.

Okay, that’s a long-winded anecdote, and not a fundamental observation.  However, since that concert I’ve gone to other concerts (or picked up new CDs) and noticed many favorite bands evolving in surprising and sometimes dissapointing ways.  However, I assume that (music execs notwithstanding) these evolutions occur because the artists themselves are changing, growing, and evolving.  If we were to insist that they keep churning out the exact style that we’re used to, they can’t be true to themselves, and this is going to show.  Ultimately, I’d rather have an artist stay true to his art, whether or not I can appreciate the subtleties, rather than to turn to hack-work because that’s what the audiences demand. 

Now lets get away from music, and think about our own day-to-day lives.  The phrase "You’re not the man I married" is common enough to become a cliché, and for good reason — it’s guaranteed to be true.  Any relationship which lasts long enough to be interesting is going to see both (or, more liberally, all) parties age and evolve as they discover who they are.  This change can be difficult and, in some cases, can rightly lead to separation.  However, if the basis of the relationship is strong enough, then the fact that all parties evolve to (hopefully) more truly reflect their core nature should be something to celebrate, and should be worth adapting to.  More importantly, telling someone that he shouldn’t be true to him/herself is a recipe for a disastrous relationship, and is highly dis-recommended.  (But play fair, guys — leaving socks on the floor and empty beer cans on the table probably isn’t part of your core identity, and you can give those things up for the sake of harmony.)