Anything that has words and a beat. I'm fond of the picollo and the pan flute. If you ask me (and you did), I'll tell you Zamphere was Yanni before Yanni could grow a mustache and sell out the Acropylis.
I'd also tell you how I love any band that has a one armed drummer or lead singer. But that has nothing to do with the music--it's purely sexual. Nonsymmetry is the new 30.
But mainly, music for me is a guy named Ethan Gobetz, who sung in the choir at my church growing up. He had the worst/best comb-over. It was an unreasonable combination of sweat and hair strewn across a horribly oblong brow. It affixed to the top-right corner of his ear.
Ethan was always a note or two behind and an octave or two above the rest of the choir. His position was always "What of it?" And God dammit if we didn't love him for it. We would always sit as close to him as possible to hear his sweaty, melodic incantations and laugh like crazy people all the way through service.
Until we got home and caught the belt from big poppa bear. I like music. I don't like the belt.
I'm cool with bears.
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Rebecca
Oatmeal
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