Music is a magical extension of the human soul. Without it, we’d all just slowly wither away into the unbearable void of silence, or worse, be left alone with our thoughts. With it, however, we have the unparalleled power to transform our minds into a war zone of emotions. Every single performance, even of a song that’s been played so many times it feels like musical wallpaper, is unique. This might explain why the same tune that made you fall in love during your college years now leaves you feeling like you’ve been smacked in the face with a nostalgia brick. That’s the magic of music.

Now, let’s not pretend that every piece of music is beautiful. But somewhere, buried deep beneath layers of discord and madness, there’s always something redeemable, like a stubborn melody trying to escape a cage made of pure noise. Music cannot be reduced to simplistic definitions, no matter how many top 40 hits try. Some people treat music as a disposable product, like a bag of chips that they mindlessly consume without appreciating what it’s made from. While it can be beautiful in its purest form, it’s also very easy to have someone decide to defy its essential purpose and make it ugly instead. It’s become another commodity like fast food or fast fashion.

For a good chunk of my life, music was my only friend. Like many ‘90s kids, I started out recording mixtapes straight from the radio. Music didn’t ever give me a hard time. It never asks questions, and it doesn’t judge when you play the same song on repeat for days, trying to squeeze some semblance of meaning out of it. Sure, there were a few moments when I bonded with family or friends over a shared song, but most often, my taste clashed with the people around me. But as I grew older and slightly more rebellious, I sought something with a bit more edge. Thus began my obsessive days of burning CDs filled with my favorite songs by random artists across all sorts of genres from folk to metal. While I’ve ditched pretty much all of those discs over the years, some of those songs I still cling to as if they contain valuable secrets of the universe.

What really propelled me into audiophilia, though, was the sweet days of Yahoo Launchcast; it was one of the very first streaming services. I still maintain it was the greatest music service of all time and its discovery mix beats Apple Music or Spotify any day. While I have mixed feelings about the streaming era, I’ll admit it’s miles better than the old radio model we suffered through for generations. Indeed, the democracy of streaming music was almost charming in the beginning. But like anything popular, that was until it became manipulated by corporate overlords who tied it to an algorithm and curated playlists. Still, it beats being force-fed whatever was trending on FM radio back in the day, which honestly even back then constantly committed crimes against good taste. Every once in a while you’d get a Top 40 you could stand, but there were always times to go make a sandwich or go outside and play.

Despite music being everywhere now, it’s somehow nowhere as valued. Yes, there’s still plenty of talent out there and even great generational talents on the charts today. But beyond a few outliers that somehow chart just for their novelty or being in the right place at the right time, I just wish most of them would stop making what was trendy and make something that’s their own. In any case, music is my magical companion. Sure, my tastes in music may be deeply flawed and frequently misunderstood, but no matter what, music always there to keep me company in this absurd, discordant masterpiece we call life.

 ~ Amelia Desertsong, October 30, 2024