Growing up, I never had an ear for music. My parents enrolled me in piano lessons[1], and I joined the middle school band as a clarinetist[2], but I never truly developed any tangible musical talent. To this day I am wildly incompetent when it comes to distinguishing specific sounds and distinct tempos, and yet I find myself inexplicably drawn to music in all its various styles and genres.
I’m no Mozart, Springsteen, or Adele. Music isn’t in my blood, and rhythm certainly isn’t in my bones. But I do know one thing.
I like things that make me happy.
And music most certainly makes me happy.
Perhaps one aspect of music I find so appealing is its inherent ability to conjure memories without any visible effort or plausible explanation. Indeed, regardless of what I’m doing or where I am at in life, hearing a song can immediately take me back to a specific time, place, and memory I can endlessly replay, savor, and live over and over again.
Hearing Jack Johnson’s “Constellations” takes me back to our family vacation in Hawaii, where the four of us stood on the hotel balcony and listened as soothing live vocals mixed seamlessly with the crashing surf and tranquil island breeze, creating a peaceful effect that urged me to look up and really see the stars for the first time.
Hearing Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” takes me back to my first year in Tucson, where I was living and teaching in an environment that was completely foreign and yet somehow finding myself in the process. I can still distinctly remember the exact highway ramp where I first listened to the 1989 album amidst a stressful early morning commute and felt grounded thinking, “Today is actually going to be pretty great, isn’t it?”
Hearing Lizzo’s “Good As Hell” takes me back to last summer where I spent countless hours navigating the Twin Cities to network and meet strangers over coffee and happy hour. Each time I got in the car I would queue my Spotify and crank Lizzo up to full blast, stretching myself to amp up, get excited, and stay unfailingly optimistic—especially when I didn’t necessarily feel that way— while building the bridges that would ultimately lead me to find the perfect role after months of hard work and uncertainty in the midst of an ambitious career transition[3].
Whatever song, whatever memory, there’s just something about music that elevates my mood, reframes my perspective, and makes me feel whole.
Music takes me on a journey where I can’t necessarily identify the specific mile markers, and I don’t necessarily know the end destination, but I most certainly can buckle up, sit back, and enjoy the ride.
In short, music is my [jazzberry] jam.
Speaking of journeys, I was recently introduced to “Diary of Song,” a The New York Times video series that provides an up-close, behind-the-scenes look at the making of modern pop music. Notably, “Diary of a Song” uses archival material such as voice memos, demo versions, text messages, emails, and interviews to illuminate the creative process behind much of the music we know and love today. In an effort to highlight the exquisite life behind these musical narratives, writer Joe Coscarelli has interviewed Ed Sheeran on the making of “Shape of You,” Lizzo on the making of “Juice,” Billie Eilish on the making of “Ocean Eyes[4].” Music making is truly an art. To say these stories are fascinating would be a gross understatement.
I find myself particularly drawn to Coscarelli’s interview with Taylor Swift and her creation of the hit song, “Lover.” The interview follows the perfectly imperfect iterative process that ultimately led Swift to create a song that peaked at No. 10 on the Billboard Hot 100.
Notably, her journey begins humbly: Swift’s hair is tied back in a messy pony tail, and she wears no makeup as she sits alone at her piano late on a seemingly ordinary week night. From here the episode chronicles Taylor’s collaboration with longtime partner Jack Antonoff at a studio in New York where they spend six hours developing the final version of what Swift characterizes as, “a timeless, smoky sort-of moment between two people.” The creative saga is captivating, and watching Swift’s creative process unfold prompts me to appreciate “Lover” not only as something that sounds good but also as a poetic piece of lyrical genius.
And, while I am fascinated by the additional insight this interview provides, Swift’s lyrics ultimately speak for themselves, highlighting an exquisite experience that directly embodies my deep love and appreciation for music.
“…There’s a dazzling haze, a
mysterious way about you, dear
Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?
Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close…?”
Here Swift references a human relationship, suggesting a unique intimacy and connectedness that magnetically binds two individuals as part of the same larger trajectory. However, I think this same poeticism is also applicable to music, where music itself becomes the vehicle by which we can “go” anywhere, feel anything, and be “close” to that which we most desire. Whether I’ve known a song for “twenty seconds” or “twenty years,” hearing a track for twenty seconds can take me twenty years back while simultaneously rooting me in the present and giving me hope for the future.
Music is emotion.
Music is memory.
Music is love.
Music is human.
In the words of Plato, “music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.” It is one of the most powerful, underestimated tools at our disposal. Music possesses infinite potential if we can learn to tap into its power and harness its transformative effects.
“Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close…?”
With music, the answer is always an unapologetic and
resounding “yes.”
[1] Where my lasting music-themed takeaway is that my instructor really enjoyed drinking orange juice… Clearly a lot landed there…
[2] As if the clunky nature of this title wasn’t reason enough to quit, my band instructor was a little, let’s say, “unhinged” and demanded clarinet become the sole, uncompromising focus of my fifth-grade universe. And so, to draw from the musical influence of my middle school upbringing, I had no choice but to quit the band and drop that clarinet like it was hot. (Snooooooooop.)
[3] In fact, this song captures and harnesses so much power and personal meaning that it has become my Peloton username. FeelinGOODasHELL empowers me to aim high daily and chart my own path, no matter what seemingly insuperable obstacle comes my way.
[4] As well as her rise to fame in general.
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