This week has been the week for musical meet and greets at work. Generally, we get new artists just about to put out their first record, still naive and less media savvy. That’s basically my way of saying that most of the people that come through aren’t all that exciting for me. I don’t know them. Or I haven’t heard of them, yet.
This week was different, though. Because one of my favorite singer/songwriters, Andrew Peterson, came by. I love AP’s music. While he was playing from his new album (and some selected older picks—I was later teased by a coworker for knowing all the songs, even the new ones!), I found myself trying to remember where or how I first heard AP. And I couldn’t figure it out. I know it was probably after I moved to Nashville, and I have no idea if my friend Brandy had anything to do with it or if the super-fandom was already firmly in place before Brandy and I met. It was definitely solidified after we started working together. And then there was that obsession we had with Bebo—OK, I think it was more me. But we won’t talk about that.
One of my coworkers likes to tease me about my love for AP. He says I have a crush on him. But I maintain, it’s not that kind of love. (We actually had a conversation one time in which we used phileos as the word, but that was weird, even for me!) I love AP because his music speaks to me. I love AP because there’s truth in those songs. I love AP because he speaks what my heart can’t find the words to say. I love AP because his music is achingly beautiful. I love AP because his voice isn’t perfect and he knows it. I love AP because I respect him, his choices, and his love for his family. I love AP because. Just because.
So I had to work hard not to become a stalking, superfan yesterday. And it’s a little daunting when you’re hopped up on sugar and brought to tears by AP’s lyrics.
I may be digging out all the CDs and listening from beginning to end. Just be prepared!