I consume music like food. To be sure, some music is designed for consumption. Their recipes consist of the right chord progressions, BPMs, and “on da floor” content that result in what one critical musician dismissed as chart-topping candy. Nothing wrong with candy, but a lot isn’t good for you. This musician also seemed to suggest that symphonies were the vegetables in this metaphor.
Is music like food? Youth pastors say so, but for different reasons than the aforementioned musician. He would say it’s a matter of “organic” versus “manufactured,” while youth pastors speak in terms of “healthy” versus “unhealthy.” They say lyrics are the most important part of a song. They also like Christian radio, which is designed for target market “Becky.”
I am not Becky. She is a picky eater. If music is like food, then my music diet is much like my real diet--I’ll eat anything. Some people say things like “I listen to everything but country,” but I’ve discovered this frequently means pop radio, or that music is just background noise. They don’t savor it much.
I’m hungry all the time. Sometimes it doesn’t really matter what I eat, but other times I get cravings. And this is where I’m going to ditch the food metaphor. Aristotle speaks of catharsis, of art as a release for the Tragedy we all know on a deep level. I get that, because I frequently find myself not appreciating art, but using it to get something outside of myself, as a release. Or alternatively, to make myself feel, which leads into a another topic entirely. But here are some examples of how I consume songs:
“Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus -- To me, the definition of musical candy. One time a friend caught me blasting this while I was working late in the office at camp. She exposed my dirty little secret in front of everyone the next day and we all laughed about it, but the truth is, I wasn’t ashamed. Feel-good pop songs, even the ones primarily associated with 12-year-old girls, have great value to me because of their positive impact on my emotions. Miley Cyrus gave me the motivation I needed to push through a long night of work by keeping my mood light and fun. As Jon Foreman once said, “There are no guilty pleasures. Just pleasures.”
“Tomorrow Comes Today” by Gorillaz -- I brood way too much, and Gorillaz is the obvious choice. My excuse is of course catharsis: listening to dark music draws it out of you, it’s a release. And maybe it is, but maybe it’s something much worse. “Rockin’ the Suburbs” by Ben Folds might be a better choice.
“Que Sera Sera” by Doris Day -- For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed closing my eyes and dreaming up visuals for songs. When I was a kid, these were often fantastical and narrative-based. These days they have more of a music video feel (I can feel the rhythmic edits), but in both cases I’m craving to capture a feeling, to materialize a fancy lingering on the edge of my imagination. “Que Sera Sera” is an interesting one, because for a long time I wanted to set the song to something sad to toy with its aesthetic, but then I saw that horrifying scene in Mary and Max and discovered my idea had been very much accomplished already.
“White Daisy Passing” by Rocky Votaloto -- Sometimes I am so, so sentimental about the past, and sentimental music helps me relive a montage of memories. This song is doubly effective because I discovered it on purevolume.com when I was in middle school, and I used to listen to it on my bed at home before I fell asleep, so it really transports me a world away from my current university circumstances.
“Svefn-g-englar” by Sigur Ros -- When I listen to this song, it’s like I’m on a giant ship in the middle of the ocean at night, a full moon dripping its gleaming silver onto the wind-whipped deck. On nights when I’m feeling some other world so strongly I think I’ll explode, songs like this feel essential.
The point is, each of these songs holds some purpose for me. I don’t just appreciate them, I consume them. What haunts me about all this is the youth pastor’s tired adage: “Garbage in, garbage out.” It's not so much questionable content that bothers me; rather, I’m afraid there is some form of idolatry at work. I think about the way music interacts with my heart, the intentional self-manipulation, and what it means to hold things tight in my heart that might not belong there. Why do I spend so much time in music and daydreams? What is really inside my heart?
