Category Archives: Music

I love music. I have loved music since I was a zygote. I listen to at least one song everyday and I’m not exaggerating! The choice of songs I listen to has in large part to do with the way I might be feeling for the day. One day I might listen to one song repeatedly another day I might listen to a mixture of artists. Take note that I wrote artist, not singer.

The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary defines a singer as someone who sings which is defined as a person who produces “musical tones by means of the voice.” That same dictionary defines an artist as “one skilled or versed in learned arts.”

Don't you Just Love My Drawing!!! Especially The Mic!!!

I see an artist as someone who sits with their thoughts and then links them together like a chain that is made heavy not by metal, but by the emotions and time spent crafting it together. Each lyric acts as one link in the making of the chain. When the chain is complete the writer has gotten used to its weight and although it might still be somewhat heavy the person can carry it, and they carry it with pride.

Singer/songwriters Jewel, Sara Barilles, and The Script (Danny O’Donoghue, Mark Sheehan, and Glen Power) are several people who come to mind.

Jewel's Album 'Spirit' (1998). Taken From My Computer From My iTunes Library.

Sara Barilles' Album 'Kaleidoscope Heart' (2010).

Barilles, when it came to writing new songs for her album Kaleidoscope Heart, said on her website it felt “like pulling teeth to write them.”

While writing for their self-titled debut album Sheehan’s mother became terminally ill. This had a tremendous affect on the band’s writing: “That was pulling on my heart strings in a big way. Lyrically it was pouring out of me” said band member O’Donoghue whose father also passed away during the album’s creation. “But then amidst all this travesty and disaster, these songs have risen out of it. That was the time when it finally came home to me how important music was to me, cos in my darkest moments that’s what got me through.”

What O’Donoghue and Barilles said on their websites proves my point. Every word, lyric and chorus that the artist writes is an outward expression of an inner emotion. Time after time when pen hits paper or finger hits keyboard that person is acting as their own therapist.

Every time someone decides to listen to a music track they are giving themselves permission to feel something and they assume the risk that the emotion they feel may not always be positive.

The Script's Self- Titled Debut Album (2008) (THEY'RE IRISH ♥!!!)

I have an unspoken deal with the artists I listen to. Since they have put a lot of themselves in to their music they have earn some privilege to co-exist with my emotions. If I don’t want to share my emotions with them, be it happiness, sadness or anger, I simply change the track.

As You Can Tell (Hopefully) I Love Music & My iPod!!!

Every time I listen to a singer who didn’t write their own lyrics I am not connecting with them I am connecting with the songwriter.

Songs are called tracks for a reason. Songs are placed in order on an album because the artist wants to create a journey for their listeners. Tracks are laid down so that a train may ride on them. As a listener you are a passenger on that train and you can decide to take the entire journey are only make a couple of stops.

In today’s music industry anyone can be a singer, but not everyone is an artist.

It started off innocently enough.

First, there were baby tees — you know, the kinds with Beatles song lyrics imprinted on the front next to photographs of Abbey Road or of John Lennon’s somber stare. Then, the revolution started — t-shirt makers (and hoodie, sweatpant, and bag) makers across the world cashed in on making merchandise with popular bands as a selling tool. The Strokes, the Smiths…heck, I can get Lady Gaga’s (hopefully, sans the prosthetic horns) on an otherwise plain shirt from Zara for under $25 bucks.

Okay, so it's KIND OF cute.

Don’t get me wrong, I always thought fashion and music worked off one another for inspiration (anyone remember that scene from Clueless where Cher got dressed to David Bowie’s Fashion? No? Well, I do!) but when does music become fashion and fashion become music? When the two combine, it’s hard to make the distinction, yet there should be some sort of line…right?

Case in point: one of my dearest friends, who I shall call Jelly Bean for the sake of her identity, and I decided to go shopping. While on our quest to find a pair of espadrilles that didn’t look like grandma shoes, we somehow ended up in Hot Topic (purely for the laugh factor, I assure you). While browsing the dimly-lit and somewhat dingy store (if you’ve been to the one in Staten Island Mall, you know what I’m talking about), I heard an over-excited shriek that sounded far too inhuman to be emitting itself from an all-too-human body. I immediately flounced over to examine the cause for such alarm to myself, and then she held up a shirt that, frankly, I don’t have the words to describe accurately: black, save for the neon imprint of a face that looked like a cross between a kitty and an alien, with the words “KE$HA” in metallic blue scrawled over the cat/alien/person’s eyes. The shirt itself was shapeless and made of a thick fabric.

In all meanings of the word, it was hideous.

“So, do you like it? Isn’t it awesome?” Jelly Bean exclaimed, holding the shirt up proudly.

“Um, do you even like Ke$ha?” I refrained from stating the obvious — that I’d rather wear a plastic bag than get near that thing.

“No, but I like the shirt! What does it matter if I listen to her or not?” was J.B.’s ever-so sensible reply.

Let’s assume that the shirt was, indeed, not horrendous-looking. Was it right, though, that Jelly Bean wanted to buy a so-called “band shirt” (the cashier at Hot Topic’s words, not mine) of a band that she doesn’t even listen to? Doesn’t that destroy the whole point, then, to walk around like a walking billboard? Hypothetically, if you don’t make the distinction between “good” music and “bad” music, it still shouldn’t matter — band shirts are only meant to be worn by fans of the band, not by someone that randomly decided that they like the shirt. False advertising, people.

For the record, Jelly Bean didn’t buy the shirt. The $20.50 price tag for essentially a printed Hanes undershirt deterred her.

Thank God.

Not my definition of being in a band...

The first couple of times it sounded charming. “I am in a band,” “I play guitar,” “I am a musician.” But then I grew older, reality hit me, and today hearing these lines makes me amused, at the most. “Oh, really? Is there anything else to know about you?”

I cannot deny that I may be a bitter ex. girlfriend of a musician or two, but the story that follows is based on purely true events.

“I am in a band.” Oh yes, I’m sure these words still works to pick up girls with, or to be straight – I know it from experience. It is not too long ago when I was a naive teenager, and whoever mentioned “in a band” could probably catch my heart at that instant moment. But I have lived and learned and today I know, that a musician does not always equal a good date.

I love music, I mean, who doesn’t? But I do believe that music is to be enjoyed on a non-personal level, as a listener or spectator. Musicians can be charming, yes, and who has not dreamed about walking to a show saying “”I am with the band.” But just think about it, really. How many of those sitting down next to you at a coffee shop, taking of their sunglasses and proudly announcing “I am a musician,” does much more than play guitar in their friends basement, or write songs they never finish? Yes, exactly – not many. And the rare ones who really does live for their music, well, they live for their music. You got it – the music, not you or anything else. As my friend, himself a struggling musician, once told me: “Never date a musician.” I laughed, ignored it, and got charmed. But that was once, or twice. Now, I need more than a cheesy love song.

Today, when approached by that unfamiliar young man, I am the one taking of my sunglasses, smiling and asking: “So, are you a musician too?” Suddenly, not many wants to brag about their musical talents, but looks a little lost, thinks for a while, and says: “Well, I am an artist!”

Here we go again…

Even great music can become noise.

Do you ever have those times when you feel like wringing someone’s neck out of pure annoyance? Well, believe it or not, despite my usually calm temperament, I’ve had those feelings plenty.

Whenever I’m on the 7 train going back home, I’m usually exhausted– tired from a long, stressful day at school. Sometimes, because of headaches, I don’t like listening to my ipod, not even when I could drown out the sounds of the train with my favorite bands and musicians (ie. Bright Eyes, City and Colour, Death Cab for Cutie, Laura Marling, Aloe Blacc, and Local Natives).

So imagine what thoughts are running through my head when I hear music blasting out of headphones. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love good music, I respect other people’s preferences in music, but in public spaces, when everyone is tired and getting home from school or work, the blaring sounds of music traveling BEYOND the listener’s headphone is just plain rude and inexcusable.

It might just be that the person doesn’t quite realize that his or her music is on so high, so sometimes, when I try to be more forgiving and rational, I do tap them on the shoulder and I ask them politely, “Would you mind lowering your music?” They usually comply, so just like that, the volume is lowered, and I can enjoy a more restful ride on the train.

But most times, I don’t say anything. You might ask me why I do this– why I choose to walk away so that my mood doesn’t become more foul– when I could just tap them on the shoulder and get it over with. My reason is simple. It’s common courtesy to check if your music is blasting out of your headphones, because I’m certain that you (and your beat up ears) can tell when the volume is way up there or higher than usual.

We have more than enough noise pollution in the world. Need we add more?

A few weeks ago, on a brisk Monday evening, young adults–anywhere from the ages of 16 to 25– gathered up in the small clothing store Prohibit NYC. It got so crowded to the point where I had to stand on a chair, which would end up being abnormally convenient. After about an hour and a half of waiting, in walks Dom Kennedy, the underground rapper who will very soon be joining the company of famous rappers such as J.Cole, Big Krit, Kanye West, and more.  After giving his motivation speech and a little background on himself, he came around and personally met every person in the audience, keeping a smile on his face the entire time. It was a beautiful thing.

Everyone attempting to meet Kennedy. Which they did.

There is something about an underground artist that I love. Don’t get me wrong, mainstream artists cannot help their amount of fame, and I have love for them too. But, when you are able to go see an underground artist, one you feel is on the brink of stardom, you feel a certain rush. And many underground artists, especially underground rappers I’ve found, will talk to you no matter the occasion, even giving you a motivation speech on how you can reach your potential.

The ability for an artist not to forget the people that allowed them to reach stardom is inspiring.

Aspiring rappers meeting Dom Kennedy, center.

Two friends that were with me at the Dom Kennedy event, who happen to want to be rappers, got to not only shake his hand and take a picture with him, but actually talk to him and his producer on how to make it in this industry.

So, for all the underground artists that are getting that “big break,” don’t forget the little people who always knew you. Because when you recognize we were there, it’s a beautiful thing.