Getting it

In our lives, we're consistently meeting new people. We meet people at work, at the bar, in the street, at school; virtually anywhere. In these interactions we tend to make pretty quick initial judgements about people, which I think it pretty normal. They might be funny, awkward, polite, kind, boring or aggressive. But sometimes you meet a person and you know straight away: this person gets it.

I will explain what that phrase means to me, but I have a feeling that most people already understand it within themselves. Some people just get it, they seem to be on the same wavelength as you. It's often something small; it might be a joke or comment they make or an insightful or curious question they ask, but it can make it seem that this person operates in a pretty similar way to yourself. Someone might ask me 'have you met such-and-such?' and I might respond with something like 'yeah, they're cool, he/she gets it.'

It may be such a funny, intangible, abstract feeling that can be difficult to put your finger on exactly what it means but it is real to me and I'm willing to bet that it's real for you too. Part of what makes this so interesting to me is that I'm sure that for each person what makes someone new set off these sensors is completely different.

In my case, I think I relate to:

• a person's sense of curiosity
• a dry or sharp sense of humour
• some knowledge of pop culture or understanding of topical things
• any sign that a person has a bit of a pedantic or obsessive streak about seemingly inconsequential things
• a speed of mind and thought or
• a generally open and thoughtful approach to life.

I think what makes understanding these values interesting is that they tell us a lot about our own personalities and priorities. These are things I value in myself and therefore enjoy seeing reflected back to me in other people.

The other part of this, probably just as important as this sense of shared interests and traits, is an understanding of our shared rules or broadly speaking, our self-constructed 'guidelines for living'. We all have created a set of rules, behaviours and processes in our minds to guide our daily actions, and we can sense someone else responding to similar situations in ways that we can relate to. For instance, I think that taking a photo of yourself and publishing it online is a bit narcissistic and trivial and that punctuation and grammar is a really important part of even relatively informal communication, so when I can establish that someone also feels this way about punctuation it often takes on grander significance.

Our lizard brains say:

'This person operates by similar rules to me in their daily life; they think about things in a similar way to me.'

Our human brains say:

'This person gets it. This person is cool/interesting/thoughtful/attractive/genuine.'

I think the idea that we are always looking for people who share the same values, traits and frame of reference as ourselves is an interesting and profound one. I'd like to think that many of the people I come across in my life speak to me and think, 'yep, he gets it.' I think all of this applies to all my friends. I like to think that if you're here reading this site regularly and we don't know each other that if we were to meet, we'd get that sense about one another too. Next time you meet some new that gets it, pull on the thread. Try to figure out what exactly it is that you have established a seemingly instant connection with this other person. You might learn a lot about yourself by doing so.

Year One Recollections

Arriving at work on that Monday morning, I was greeted with the usual pleasant platitudes. On any other Monday, you might assume that I'd be down with a case of Mondayitis. You certainly wouldn't be expecting enthusiasm. But this was not the Monday after a normal weekend; it was the Monday after one of the best weekends.

I actually knew about what was coming a while ahead of time. Over the course of two car trips, I was to learn a lot about what was to become Robert Hunter Cup weekend. Initially I was let in on what exactly it was they were planning to do. It was so clear to me that these guys didn't just want to do something to commemorate the passing of their friend, they wanted to do an event that he would've be proud of. Hunter loved Aussie Rules and hip-hop; so what better way to celebrate his life than first with a gig and then a game? 

My initial thoughts about the plan were mostly about how ambitious the whole plan was and how difficult it was going to be to make something like this happen. So much had to be organised, negotiated, arranged, discussed and paid for. Hearing about the plans near the beginning, I did not envy the work the organisers had in front of them to bring the party to life. I could sense how important this was to everyone involved, though. Having never lost anyone in such circumstances before, I couldn't truly relate to the way that they were feeling, but I could definitely sense how much he meant to everyone involved and how important it was for them to find a way celebrate his life that was both thorough and positive.

Slowly but surely, I saw the puzzle coming together via social media as the organisers worked away feverishly in the background. Over the course of months, I saw artists, fans,  media and sponsors take to the concept with enthusiasm. I soon realised this thing had serious momentum and it seemed like everyone wanted to be involved. In a scene that had grown larger but somewhat fractured over recent years, I was heartened by the broad support that I could see scrolling by on my Twitter feed. Tickets for the show sold out soon enough. This was officially a big deal. 

Sitting upstairs at the Corner Hotel with some friends and forumites who had travelled from interstate for the weekend, events felt significant before a single beat had been dropped. Seeing the amount of interstaters in the place when they were prompted to raise their hands was incredible. This was like nothing I'd ever seen before. This was the the highest concentration of Australian hip-hop fans I can recall in my short time following the scene; it may have been the highest concentration of Australian hip-hop artists, fans and media in one place ever. Some of the biggest touring rap acts in the country were interspersed with beloved veterans. All in all, it felt special; inexplicable. Reflux on the decks for Mass MC? Delta DJing for Dedlee? Boney and Stoney back in effect? Suffa on stage with the Syllabolix Crew? It felt like something that couldn't be happening; something that would be talked about for years.  

On matchday, it seemed like the Melbourne weather was going to hold up. Trains rattled past at regular intervals, aptly symbolic of a congregation of a culture obsessed with location and transit. Families sat with strollers and blankets and young men clung to eskies and six-packs. Organisers arranged objects and pointed. What I felt was just how unremarkable it really was. Just like any other Sunday at football grounds across Australia, people sat, ate, laughed and cheered their teams. But what had brought these people together was not the same as any other suburban football match. This was a gathering of a culture, one that has been misunderstood for as long as it has existed here. These people had come together to celebrate a life, to pay respects to a great man taken too early. 

Like very few other times in my life, I walked around the ground that day feeling like I was a part of something bigger. This wasn't simply about music or football; this was about a community. In whatever ways new technology has expanded the reach of different genres and subcultures, few things beat a good old-fashioned pilgrimage, a meet-up, a yarn. 

I never met Robert Hunter. What was apparent to me though, not just from listening to his albums but from hearing others speak about him, was that he was as influential a person as he was as an artist. All communities miss personalities like his when they are no longer there. Holes like those left by Robert Hunter are difficult to fill. I can think of no better way for the Australian hip-hop community to celebrate such a life than with an event like this.

If you were around at the gig or the match, you might have seen a dude with glasses on his face and a camera around his neck grinning like an idiot. That was probably me. I did notice that weekend was that people around me were smiling a lot too. Seeing that, I can't think there could be a better way for any person to be remembered. I hope Hunter was smiling along with us.

#RIPHunter

Music and coping

I've been engaging in a bit of reconsideration of some big things lately. I'm not exactly sure why, but whatever the reason I'm glad it's happening. I figure that reassessing thoughts and feelings that you've held for a long time can be a pretty healthy process. We can all use a little bit of spring-cleaning now and then.

One of the things I've found myself reconsidering is the emotional role that music has played in my life. You could sift through the articles I've written here and find breathless statements about how important music has been to me in so many ways. It has partly defined my friendship circle and the vast majority of my free time at the very least. It's likely had a physiological impact, shifting the way my brain works. It's probably even impacted on the the kind of things I enjoy doing even when I'm not playing. I might not have started this website without having had the sort of creative foundation that music provided to me.

Music has always been there for me, regardless of whether I was playing or listening. I have depended on it for so much for as long as I can remember. When I was growing up, if I was emotional - sad, excited, nervous or stressed - I'd pick up an instrument or put on my headphones and I'd balance out. I use music like a someone with a headache uses paracetamol, the way an alcoholic uses the drink. I've realised now that this has probably stunted me in some ways.

So often I felt horrible and confused and music made everything alright. As a result, I felt I didn't need to deal with actual issues, because I knew when those feelings surfaced again I had a way out. It was avoidance and to the extent that I used it like this it was unhealthy. If you look behind my guitar cases or through my CD shelf you could probably find the places I hid those all that stuff.

Just so you know, I'm still doing this. I will always have to do this, but hopefully not always to that extent. I can't separate myself from music or even this way of relating to it. My connection to this art form is inextricable, instinctive and physiological. But it seems to me now that it might have become have been a pretty unhealthy dependency at some point. For everything that this art has given me, which is more than I can begin to imagine, I'm a slightly less developed person in some ways because of it all, too. That's a tough idea to process.