Some people find out what they like quite early on, and stick with it. Nothing wrong with that. If they chance across something else they like, they will add it to the list. What they won't do is go looking for new stuff. Maybe they have other priorities, like, oh I don't know, raising children? Or running a business?
Some people, and I am one, need a certain amount of novelty. New. Different. Just because why not? It's not in everything: novelty-seeking in some areas is balanced by stability in others, and of course, there's always money as a restriction. My diet is healthy but fairly plain, but my music collection, the books I read? All over the place. I can spend the time looking at new art, or listening to new music, that I may decide I don't like so much, because I don't have children to socialise and a partner to keep entertained. If you have ever thought that people who do a lot of culture, or people who do a lot of gym, are slightly odd, I'm not going to disagree.
How do you do novelty? One rule is: try anything once. If you have a strong pro-reaction, try it again. Otherwise you can leave it. It's a good rule, but does not give us a chance to acquire a taste. Some things need a little getting used to: Irish Guinness, cold fish on rice, swimming, Mozart.
There are three ways something can fail to connect with me: a) I just can't get it: try as I may, metal just sounds like a noise to me; b) I do get it, but it leaves me cold: almost everything on the ECM label; c) I get it, and it does occasionally touch me , but it just doesn't fit into how I'm living at the moment: the nineteenth century Romantic symphony.
The question is: how long should we try to acquire the taste? Through the early eighties I watched each Rohmer movie as it came out, intellectually getting what was happening but nothing else, before I finally connected with one (My Boyfriend's Girlfriend in 1987). Classical ballet leaves me un-moved for all I appreciate the technique, and it took about four seasons of Flamenco at Sadlers Wells before I got the singing (otherwise I was there for the dancing and the instrumental music) through an Eva Yerbabuena piece I cannot find even on You Tube.
Spend too long listening to too many new-or-different bands, or reading too many what's-this-like books, and I find I can forget what it's like to wallow in what I really like. Music, or reading, or movie-watching, stops being fun.
The Romantic symphony has been my bugbear. This is anything after Beethoven and not including Mahler and Bruckner. I get what it's doing, and I like a lot of them. But they just don't work for me. It's taken me an age and a decent pair of speakers to sort out why.
Dynamic range. Way too much dynamic range. Around 100dbA for triple-forte or above and 30dbA for triple-piano or below. It is not suitable for how I use music. I need a much smaller dynamic range. Mazart is fine. So are Bach, Haydn, Handel, Clementi and almost everyone who composed before abut 1800.
A lack of tunes, riffs, and assorted hooks. It's all a bit wander-y and abstract. Hence the exceptions for Mahler (lots of tunes) and Bruckner (riffs).
I feel much happier playing the weirdness of Godspeed You! Black Emperor rather than the weirdness of Schumann.
Why do I keep on giving the Romantic Symphony a chance? Because I know I am supposed to like it. And in the right mood, a bit of Sibelius or Respighi is just fine. Mostly, I'm not in that mood.
The thing is: I think I should be in that mood more often.
But that's just not me. And I feel like I'm forcing myself if I try to be.
I have been playing music I like recently. Familiar - though high-quality music or literature always has some surprises. I feel more at home when I do.
It is interesting that when life was genuinely dangerous and brutal, the dominant forms of music were melodic and soothing. As life became more safe and secure as the 20th century progressed, so music became more aggressive.
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