Music brings us together?

I have heard many times that music is what brings us together. Really? Are you sure? When I think about it, I’m conflicted. I turn to music constantly in my life and I do bond with the other people who like or listen to things that I like. But, it’s much more complicated than that though. I won’t even go into the music “business” side of this discussion. I don’t think I am ready for that blog yet (oh, it’s coming). But, I see so many ways in which music has driven a wedge between people.

In high school there are always cliques. And people (me included) stereotype these groups. When I was in high school it was the skaters/punks, the goths, the preps, the stoners, the jocks, the kickers, the gangstas, the nerds and more. Surely there are versions of this now that are pretty similar. There are a lot of factors that place people into their appropriate groups like style interests and more. But really it always boils down to music.

You weren’t going to see a skater guy driving down the street listening to Celine Dion or Whitney Houston. Not too many preps were listening to Black Flag or Minor Threat. But, why not? This has really bothered me over the years, since I listed to such a range of music, but specifically two things have really bothered me lately about this.

#1 – My good friend J.Ball came to visit recently and I knew he was a Texas Music fan so I took him to our recently sold store. He was in heaven. I made a comment about how I never thought I would have been selling country music or something along those lines and that I never would have pictured him listening to this stuff (our crowd was mostly the skater punk crowd). And he told me that he really liked country music as a teenager, but there is no way he would have told his friends. WHAT? WHY?

#2 – My daughter loves the worst music. No really. Noah (and even Jack) has some sweet taste (Pixies, White Stripes), but Emily is the Bubble Gum Queen. She loves Hannah and Jonas and all that typical little kid stuff. She does like a few good things (Foo Fighters – w00t), but she listens to the evil top 40 station. I don’t even know what to call the music they play, but in my mind it is AWFUL. And for a while I told her that. I wouldn’t play it in the car for her. I wanted to rid her of this infliction. I wanted to help her. And then one day during the move, I was walking past her bedroom and I caught a glimpse of her in her room packing. She had her radio on and she was groovin’ (to some real crap) and movin’ and singin’. Man, she was so happy. She knew every word and every note was bringing her joy.

At that moment I couldn’t believe I would try to deprive her of that joy. I truly realized what the word SUBJECTIVE means. She wasn’t showing off or trying to be cool for anyone, she was just happy.

And that’s what it is really supposed to be about right? You listen to what you like. It is so personal. I am not all the way better yet, but I am working on my musical tolerance. One man’s crap is another man’s love ballad.