Back in college, I wrote a handful of music reviews.

I didn’t write them because I was an expert, but because I was a music lover and always have been. My music credentials consisted of three years of second-rate play in middle school band, loads of random music trivia, and a ridiculously irresponsible collection of compact discs.

Trivial knowledge of artists, songs and every track on an album never made any of us an expert. It made you a music fan but didn’t mean you knew anything more than any other casual listener about the technical appreciation of chords, fills, melodies, and lyrics.

But in college, being a casual listener with an opinion – who could meet at least the second or third deadline – was enough. The deal was, if you wrote a review for the college entertainment magazine you got to keep the CD. At the going rate of $15 per CD, it was actually a better return on investment than cash payment in those days. It gave me the ink to impress with some clever insults at the expense of an oblivious artist I decided I didn’t like. It gave me license to pen a catchy headline for some quirky, odd genre most never listened to.

In the few reviews I wrote I bashed Dave Matthews Band for being whiny, mostly because so many loved it. King Diamond got a glowing review because it was kookie and hardly anyone had any idea what I was talking about. 

The reviews were awful. But they got me wondering what it would take to write something about music worth reading. I was convinced it took an understanding of music I did not possess. Fast forward close to a quarter century later, and I think I’ve discovered how I can talk to you about my – and your – love of music.

It’s the Hook & Groove. It’s not technical. It’s not a review of the genius behind how the music was composed and the lyrics were written. No, I’m not going to tell you how Beethoven did it without being able to hear it or see over the top of the piano. I won’t explain the magical genius of Stewart Copeland’s drumming, or try to dissect the electric genius of Jimi Hendrix.

Hell, every musician out there from Eddie Rabbit to Taylor Swift, and from Steely Dan to Dope Lemon knows more about writing and producing music than I could possibly learn in what’s left of my years.

But I understand how we consume music, why it means so much to us, and what we love about it, and I want to share that with you through Hook & Groove.

The Hook is what captures our attention and imagination. Maybe it’s an earworm that punishes you like hours of the chorus of “Gangnam Style”, only nudged out when “Lost in Love” finds its way into your internal loop. Maybe it’s that moment in a song you wait for as it builds or drops, hitting you in that special place you can’t locate but feel deep inside every time it happens. Maybe you love it. Maybe you hate that you love it, but it is inescapable.

The Groove is that sound that just makes you feel right. One minute you’re sitting in silence, the next you’ve turned on some music and everything changes for the better. It lifts you in a way we sometimes don’t even notice if we’re not paying close attention. It surely makes you sing a little. It probably makes you do that dance-like thing. You can say you don’t sing. You can say you don’t dance. But we all know you do.

For the casual listener, the rabid fan, or the well-versed contemplator of music, it is the Hook & Groove that reels us in and keeps us clinging for years to the same tunes, all while seeking out that next new favorite.

It helps us create a monogrammed music catalog, jammed with songs serving as four-minute soundtracks to every life occasion, moment, and memory. It is our emotional baggage, our life’s yearbook, and the scrapbook we never really sit down to create, all captured in song.

Admit it. You don’t know the time signature or chords in your favorite song, but you remember when you first heard it, who you shared it with over the years, and the random memories it conjures. That’s the Hook & Groove.

Let’s get nostalgic. Let’s debate. Let’s enjoy the magic. Let’s take the “Magic Carpet Ride,” the “Midnight Train to Georgia,” and “Ramble On” down that “Road to Nowhere,” joining the “Pilot of the Airwaves” to truly “Listen to the Music.”