“Name Five Songs”

What If I Can Only Name Three?

By Amina Ahmed

I’m listening to “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars, and I’m transported back to the crisp air in the basement of my childhood home. We’d recently purchased a desktop, and the shiny new gadget brightened up the space of the otherwise dreary finished basement. I played the music video on repeat, mesmerized by the visuals and animations, to the point where I still know the lyrics today. The same warm feeling envelops me when I listen to “I Know I Love You” by TXT. Without skipping a beat, the wind is suddenly hitting my face, I’m in my best friend’s car with the windows down and the music blasting. We were seniors in high school, a month away from graduation, with seemingly our whole lives ahead of us. We were high on new-found freedom and screamed the lyrics at the top of our lungs — we were unstoppable. What I mean to say is, music that I fall in love with and truly moves me isn’t always connected with the artist, album, or label. It becomes a memory, emotions, and feelings that make me feel alive again.

I’ve found that this notion isn’t popular amongst most musical subcultures. I grew up with four older siblings, with a wide range of generations between us as well. We all have a general love for R&B, but my oldest siblings got me into 90s rap and hip hop. As I got older, I often sat and watched TV with my mom. She loved watching shows in Arabic, Hindi, or Korean. Despite barely understanding the premise, we still enjoyed the programs and the music even more. And we all had our middle school phases. My fellow peers sucked me into the world of My Chemical Romance, Panic! At the Disco, Fall Out Boy, and so many other rock bands. Thus, you can imagine the chaos that occurs in my Spotify playlists — but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Musically, I am an amalgamation of all of the people I love and the people I’ve been. However, I’ve always felt that my reasons for my music taste were never good enough or justified. Listening to music for the way it made me feel, or what it reminded me of didn’t equate me to being a music lover. In order to declare such a statement, there’s an expectation to prove your vast knowledge and passion for any musical genre or artist.

This is an aspect of society I’ve never truly understood, because in subjecting ourselves to such expectations, we fail to realize how hypocritical we truly are. Music, a mode of expression that is creative and artistic, is the epitome of fluidity. It’s the complete opposite of what our world usually values: science, math, and clear-cut answers. And in simply existing, music creates safe-spaces for individuals commonly ostracized by society. Then if so, why is it that we are so definitive in the individuals that engage in musical subcultures the same way the world is with science and math? Is uniqueness and ambiguity not the fabric of music entirely? Because it seems that the same way society condemns any endeavor or career that lacks a STEM focus, that alienation is mirrored within music and musical subcultures. Are we not perpetuating the same behavior that was acted upon us?

Now, I understand that most musical subcultures were created as a safe-haven for music that fell outside of mainstream media. Alternative, Rock, Indie, and even R&B can easily be swept into pop culture and cease to hold their own creative integrity. And in order to maintain it, rich cultures were born and still thrive today. The sustainability of these societies depends on the utmost respect for their origins, history, and character. However, my thoughts and feelings are that of my own. I don’t need to prove them, and surely, they are not declared by the opinion of another party. I believe that it’s possible to maintain the cultural integrity of musical subcultures while also allowing others inside their walls and being less definitive on who is and isn’t a fan. If we simply open ourselves up a little, more and more people can experience the beauty of all types of music.