I was privileged to be a part of a unique musical experience last week. The venue was an old, beat down co-op house with smoke bristling out of every hallway. I was hesitant to step into the creaky old home, but a friend had assured me that the music was always good.

I tentatively sat down on a couch that had clearly seen better days and eagerly (albeit nervously) awaited the first performer. He was a college student, no more than a year or two older than me, and he brought with him a guitar, a ukulele and a concertino. My apprehension had reached its peak by then, but as a former musician myself, I knew that I couldn’t dismiss him merely by my first impression of him.

My second impression quickly erased all doubts.

The music that flowed out of his guitar was unlike anything I had ever heard. It wasn’t that the melodies were particularly interesting or that the chord progressions were especially unique, but when his voice joined in with the raw and piercing sound of his guitar, it was as if I had been granted an opportunity to see and feel his deepest emotions. He poured himself onto the stage and sung as if no one was watching. He was completely immersed in the music, as was I.

The performance lasted for a little under an hour, after which I eagerly shook his hand and expressed my amazement at his dedication to his art. He meagerly shook my hand and thanked me for the praise before stepping outside for a smoke. I bid the venue farewell and headed home, filled with wonder and awe.

I have nothing but respect for classical musicians. The music of the great masters, such as Bach, Beethoven, Haydn, and Mahler, is evident in every form of music you could possibly imagine, but there was something different about the music I heard that night. It had been ages since I had seen or heard someone put their very soul and emotion into their music. His performance was, in a word, selfless. He didn’t do it for himself or the audience; he did it for the sake of making music.

In a fast paced and largely commercial world, I think I have forgotten, as many of us have, the true nature of music. It is not notes on a page or catchy melodies. Music can only be defined as the unadulterated expression of emotion: love, hate, fear, anxiety, courage.

So, I urge all musicians—be you classical, jazz, pop, rock, or whatever you please—immerse yourself in the music. Give yourself to your art and when you perform, forget that you are being watched or judged. The musician I saw that night might have been the only person I have ever met to dedicate his body, mind, and spirit fully to his art. No part of him said “I’m not sure if I should be doing this” or “I’m just doing this to be artistic.” His music was good, but his performance was unprecedented.

If you want to make music that truly connects with people, I believe that you must do the same: do not settle for an expression of an idea, but rather strive for an expression of person. Everything about you should come out on stage. It is more difficult than you might think to set aside everything you know about social norms and really put yourself out on the stage, but that is what a truly virtuosic musician must do every time he or she performs.

It is difficult for me to put into words what I experienced that night. Not an epiphany, but rather a recognition of something I knew along. It wasn’t any of the notes or rhythms he played, but through the metallic twang of his guitar strings, through the powerful “thump” as his foot stomped the ground, through the lyrical echo of his voice, there was something natural, something primal, something unmistakably... human.