The hands of poet & musician, Jill Niebuhr, aka, Jammin, The Warrior from St. Peter, MN
Photo by David Clobes - The hands of poet & musician, Jill Niebuhr, aka, Jammin, The Warrior from St. Peter, MN

[Publisher’s Note: Jill Niebuhr is joining the growing family of MankatoLIFE.com contributors. She’ll take you along on her journey as she explores both music and the artists behind it. Watch for her column, Adventures in Sound, on the 15th of each month!]

My last concert was hearing Charlie Parr at The Turf Club in Minneapolis.

It was freezing. It was a full moon. It was a super moon. I attended with a new friend I met at the Foo Fighters concert last October on a momentous occasion, a huge anniversary in my life, a grand milestone.

Through all the trials on my path, I have found music to be a constant companion. It’s that still voice that beckons to me whether I am up for it or not. It is my ever-present guide because it is good. It is good for me. It is good for my spirit. It enhances my creativity. It just flows. When life seems stuck and nothing fits, music is there picking up my pieces, beckoning me on and brightening the way.

I have found music to be a constant companion. It’s that still voice that beckons to me whether I am up for it or not.

This life enhancement technique could have something to do with my musical tastes. I don’t pick a genre or an artist and stick with them. The musical influences of my life flow. They change in different scenarios. They embrace the profundity. Of course, they can also remain very familiar.

Charlie started things off with sound. This was my first visit to the Turf Club, so maybe it was the sound system, or maybe it was the resonator he played on, or maybe it was the moon, but it captivated instantly. Then his voice picked up the pieces and threw them down. Everything unnecessary was broken down so we could enjoy some real-life Minnesota entertainment by one of our own.

It was all so well done that we were still able to hold conversation and break bread or, a protein bar in my case (which the bartender so kindly gave me permission to eat). Driving up to concerts in the cities tends to interfere with dinner time. Oh, well.

We partook of not only music that tickled the soul but also a voyage through conversation to discovery of our life paths.

I am not the only one who felt there was something special about that introduction. You could see it. You could hear it. We felt it. If that isn’t enough evidence, one of the attendees mentioned it while I was in the restroom. Ha!

The Power of Music

That is the power of music! When we release a song, everyone who hears it comes with us. The magic happens not only for the creator but also for every person who receives it and actually feels something because of it.

In future columns, I am going to explore musical tastes, and treats, concerts, voices, unheard of establishments, and other adventures in the local scene. I’ll explore and find something new in every concert I attend or perform in, every song I write, and every connection I make.

What keeps me alive as a creator are my adventures.

My first adventure was just listening. My dad brought me my first music collection, a bunch of 45s he picked up from an auction for a dollar. It was a huge collection and I soon became well-versed in music history as I sat in my room experiencing this new world, far from the small town farm where I lived.

It was in this way I first learned about love, self-confidence, loyalty, hardship, and pain. I needed that foundation for what life was to bring.

In future columns, I am going to explore musical tastes, and treats, concerts, voices, unheard of establishments, and other adventures in the music scene. I’ll explore and find something new in every concert I attend or perform in, every song I write, and every connection I make.

To me, music is life, and this is my adventure.