From Back Row to Center Stage.

I've noticed a process that happens every time I listen to a song. The first time I hear it, it's no more than a melody to me. If I like the way it sounds, I'll listen to it again. The second time isn't much different; maybe this time I can hear the lyrics in the chorus. Then I keep listening to the song, over and over, each time I get a little more out of it.

I hear more and more of the lyrics. I eventually get them down (excluding the lines that are completely undecipherable). Then I start isolating the instruments. I figure out every instrument in the song and everything they play. Soon I can sing along with any instrument all the way through or bang out the percussion beats on my legs or my desk.

Ultimately, I'm making up my own lines, playing my own solos, and just generally rocking out to the song. It is as though I went from the back stage of the audience, moving up a row, closer and closer, then climbing onto the stage and joining the band.

The simple term for this phenomenon is acquisition. It can happen consciously or unconsciously, but usually both varieties occur. As a writer, we are all but demanded to acquire style and technique from other writers. While there is no way to avoid this, I will give one piece of advice on the matter.

The songs that I acquire are enjoyable to listen to the first time. They are also enjoyable to listen to for the 50th and 100th time. If you are going to spend the time, energy, and effort to understand something so thoroughly, especially if you plan on using that understanding for your own work, make sure it is enjoyable the first time and the fiftieth time, and every time in between.