i first read about him in 1998. in the review section of rolling stone magazine. rufus wainwright. highly praised with a mention of his being openly gay. i bought the album and didn’t quite know what to make of him at first. because his music was unlike anything i had ever heard before.
i remember listening to that first album, thinking of a girl from ohio that i was madly in love with at the time. a classically trained pianist who i was with and then not with and then kind of with and then not, etc.
the more i listened, too though, the more i fell in love with his melodies, the amazing way he layers different sounds and tones so that you can almost hear each individual voice. his voice. and his piano. i am so fucking in love with the way he plays his piano.
his music has narrated a good chunk of my life. i was twenty five in ’98, as was he. seems so long ago. thinking of who i was then versus who i am now. how young i was then versus. well. how not young i am now.
even thinking about what the world was like then versus what it’s like now.
so much has changed.
but rufus has been a constant.
there are songs of his that have the ability to take me back to a specific time and place.
and there are songs of his that have evolved in their meaning to me and in my life.
which i love.
there are songs of his that have mirrored my own experiences, feelings.
listening to his music allows me to see myself in another way. in a way.
listening to his music allows me, also, to share in another’s experience.
his music is personal and raw and honest and passionate.
allows you to see the world through someone else’s eyes.
allows you to see the world
allows you to see life as the poem it is.