I’ve always found that watching a really great band live on stage is inspirational: it makes me want to rush home and start writing in a way that few other things do.
One of my friends happens to lead the world’s top Rod Stewart tribute band, so inspiration is available almost on tap (they’re continually touring all around the country and beyond). If you fancy a quick jolt of inspiration, click on the link to find where they’re playing next and I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Right, plug over, why does that method of inspiring ourselves work so reliably? It can’t be just the effect of experiencing great art because I don’t get the same impact from looking at a Renoir, for example. In fact I don’t always get it even from reading great literature (although I’m more likely to do so if it’s in a similar genre to my own work, or the kind of thing that I would like to write).
I guess it must be due to getting a simultaneous hit of adrenalin and endorphins, creating both a high and a buzz of energy. Perhaps it’s also because human beings respond most enthusiastically to other human beings who are performing right in front of them. That goes all the way back to the cave men and the earliest forms of music. We now know that music is rooted in the earliest rhythms that we experience, in our mother’s wombs. So music must be the original art form, before even cave painting: and it speaks to us at a subliminal level that nothing else can.
Play on, Rod.