7 articles on music and aging

Music is for life. From the first moment we sing or dance as children to our final breaths, music (and the act of making it) is one of our closest companions. Yet this truth—something all world cultures once knew instinctively—has been lost to many of us. We’re told there’s an age limit to creating music. Conversely, those who choose to stop being professional musicians and spend the rest of their lives creating gorgeous music for the love of it are frequently looked on with suspicion. What was once an instinctual, human act now comes to us laden with the burden of other people’s expectations.

Here’s the truth: if we’re alive, we’re not too old to make music. This is something I’ve touched on several times on No Dead Guys. We may need to find new ways to create music as we age, but music never leaves us—even up to the moment of death. The articles I’ve highlighted in this post celebrate this gift, while not shying away from the very real challenges that face the aging musician.

A local city band full of older musicians inspired me to write Why it’s never too late to play a musical instrument.  This post encourages people of every age to throw self-consciousness away and revel in the joy of creating music, regardless of aptitude or level of accomplishment. It’s a reminder that the joy of music is in the doing, not in reaching others’ goals and expectations.

Aging, of course, comes with its own set of challenges, both physical and mental. In The aging pianist, I remind myself (and my readers) that “if we’re blessed with good health, aging gratefully (and gracefully) is all about editing our lives.  We let go of what no longer brings us joy and keep what matters.  We choose quality over quantity.  We find our “enough” point and we don’t let ego push us out of our true selves.  We stop glossing over our flaws, but we don’t obsess about them either.” 

As I’ve transitioned out of my career as a pianist and piano instructor to focus on writing, I’ve noted aspects of my own journey in a series of posts. Pianists and the art of a graceful exit discusses the process of knowing when to step back, and the acceptance of inevitable decline.

Something that surprised me when I chose to retire from working as a professional musician was the lack of information available about how others have made this sort of transition. I found that between aging rock stars who never retire and broke musicians who can’t afford to retire, there were few examples of people who had voluntarily left professional musical careers. My first article on this topic, Going amateur: a pianist chooses retirement discusses the deeply introspective journey one goes on when deciding to retire, as well as the disorientation of not knowing how to direct your practicing when there’s no upcoming performance.

And finally, The retired pianist, written three years after I stopped making money from making music, explores the joys and frustrations of navigating the freedoms and uncertainties that come with being retired. As I explore this wonderful new world of truly recreational music making, I suspect this won’t be the last post written on this topic.

Friends and loved ones have shown me what lies ahead on the aging journey. They’ve taught me that music is our companion through physical decline and will walk with us to the moment of death. A musical soirée with Widney Moore, pianist celebrates the communal nature of sharing music even while suffering from a terminal illness. And the irreplaceable Forrest Kinney shares his wisdom on music and dying in In his own words: educator and pianist Forrest Kinney on living and dying and accepting.

The topic of aging in music is much bigger than one person’s perspective. I’d love to hear from you, dear reader, about your personal relationship with growing older. Are you are wrestling with age-related adjustments or navigating retirement? If you’re younger, what positive or negative things come to mind when you imagine your own golden years? Please share your thoughts, either in email or in the comments below. And, as always, thank you for reading No Dead Guys.

Photo by Carlos Torres, courtesy of UpSplash