I was exploring music on Spotify in the way that I like to do and have written about in a previous post in this website. I happened to come across a version of the classic Brazilian song “Os Quindins de Yaya” by a Cuban vocalist I had never heard, named Velia Martinez.
What I immediately liked about it was its incredible minimalism that at once made it sound like a late-night vintage night club or the score out of an old-time sci-fi movie. The instruments – some type of organ, I suppose, and percussions, accompanying Martinez’s voice.
I got so excited that I thought of immediately sharing it across all of my active social media accounts. But this thought was immediately accompanied by a sense of doubt, which stopped me from doing so.
That sense of doubt was fickle and superficial: nobody would give it a thumbs up. Nobody would show their appreciation for me having gone out of my way and sharing this unknown song by an unknown vocalist.
So unknown, in fact, that I have yet to discover when it was recorded. From what I have gathered, it must have been at some point in the ’50s.
Once again, this event led me to think one simple thought. I have a tendency to care about things that nobody else seems to care about.
But am I in the wrong? Or is it simply the way things are or have become? Are we encouraged to talk about the same things over and over? And what does that say about the world that we live in?
Truth is, I believe there are people out there who similarly care about things that nobody else seems to care for. And yet, most of them struggle to find each other or support each other’s discoveries. Does that take anything away from the delight of making those discoveries? It’s possible that in the long-run it might. Just in the same way that it can be so heartbreaking to be ignored when your emotions are trampled upon by a deafening silence in just about any of life’s situations.