For many, the teenage experience is partially defined by the music that resonated with you the most

during that particular time. As time goes on, you become more distanced from those days on the timeline, but the emotional connection never ceases, it may even grow fonder. On more than one occasion, Ive spent nights with friends, going back and forth, back and forth, playing songs from high school that you insist was the soundtrack to your: summer before senior year, the relationship you held so dear, the friendship and camaraderie you wouldnt trade for any other experience. Its really a joyous occasion to find the roots of emotion within another friend and how those roots may extend into your personal perspective and interactions with the world youve seen. On the other hand, some music manages to sneak away from those sentimental moments of common experience, and still remain a private experience. The relationship between musician and audience is very intricate and sensitive. Between live performance and the presentation over audio, it has many forms, and every listen means as much as the previous one. Music follows you wherever you go, whether it finds you closing your eyes in your friends backseat on foggy and crisp fall morning in 2008, which may as well feel like a completely different manifestation of the current world, or as background music for your allnighters in 2013. It just never goes away, not that you would ever want it to. Kevin Devine was someone I found in those essential years of development that never caught on with those around me, so the music became a lot more of an emotional attachment because I had only one interpretation of his music; what it meant to me. Coming across a Kevin Devine fan meant instant kudos and shared discussion about favorite songs, favorite albums, etc. His music has stuck with me from the first listen because the general feeling it gives me is to have a loyalty to the life around you, servicing others by trying to capture every moment, good or bad. Besides Jack Kerouac and Lawrence Ferlinghetti, not many others have inspired me to write creatively, in some sort of way, like Kevin Devine. There are some who devote their lives to their love and reverence of the world around them, and the feeling comes through when you can sense the authenticity of emotion. Devine has built a loyal, devoted fan base through his humble nature and respect for his audience. He has never put himself in a position where his music becomes spoiled by artificial variables, like record sales and profit. His musics emphasis is strengthened by the intimate, individual connections each person has been able to take from it. I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to speak to Kevin Devine over the phone a little over two weeks ago. In the rush of daily academia, unfortunately, I lost my notes from the interview. A true lapse on my part. I obviously did not feel comfortable then writing about the interview without my direct quotes. However, what took place was a rare occurrence; a genuine interaction between musician and fan. We discussed the direction and emotional context of his two new releases, Bulldozer and Bubblegum. He was very cordial and I had the chance to talk to him, at length, about the specific effect many of his songs had on me.

I explained how Lord, I Know We Dont Talk played a big part of my commentary towards my religious upbringing, much the same way People Are So Fickle became the declaration of the ambivalent nature of teenage frustration/love. His humility was unbelievably abundant, constantly thanking me for sharing such intimate details of the effect his music had on me. It seemed quite ridiculous for an inspiration to thank me for allowing his art to take hold of my life. While Im ashamed and embarrassed that Ill never get to publish what came about of that interview, Im so very fortunate for getting a first-hand experience into the psyche and sentiment of someone who had a part in my development. In the end, every interaction between audience and musician plays a part, fits another piece to the puzzling combination of emotional development in relation to music. Enjoy every second, every note, let it break you down and build you up as you grow. Age changes, music never will.