Music Helps
No matter where I am, it seems my fingers, feet, and head are always tapping, bouncing, and nodding to some song. I believe music helps and meliorates every situation and everyone. With an arsenal of music- several songs for each mood- I can match my every emotion. Sometimes to cheer myself up, but I usually have a song handy to magnify my pleasure and carefree stature. Then again, sometimes I play a song in my head for a more important cause: I have to pass the time in second period somehow.
To me, every note, octave, and sound releases part of a picture in my mind- making a monumental picture only when collaborating in perfect harmony. As a single guitar string stirs when plucked, a shiver runs across my face; a tingling and numbing sensation curves my lips into a smile. Bouncing, rolling drums- a sharp beat on the snare- and sweet vocals perfect an already superb day. Nothing’s better than cruising down the road to Goldfinger’s “Superman”. Perhaps that’s my self conscience saving me; if I played a song defaming police, I might drive recklessly.
While I’m on the topic, music is an expression, a message. When in a rebellious mood, I’ll almost always be listening to Rage Against the Machine – one of my favorite bands (their best song is “Guerilla Radio”). When I’m angry, pounding drums soothe me. A booming bass that rattles my body allows me to leave reality. By matching a song with my mood, I feel calm, I feel balanced. Roaring riffs and soft chords make all the difference between an adrenaline-rushed frenzy and upbeat swaying.
Music has followed me throughout my life, even from birth. I still love being sung a lullaby; I probably associate it with caring people around me. Everyone can relate to music-the best conversation starter in history. I can respect other’s tastes in music; everyone has different styles, and in moderation I like to give each a chance. African tribal music sets me free, an occasional bout of Mozart can bring serenity, and some intense shrieking songs not only balance out the classical, but also get me pumped. I enjoy it all: Caribbean metal drums, bagpipes (oh, I love those), rap, gospel, country, blues, disco, rock, didgeridoos, winds, strings, even my mom’s singing (if that can be considered music), whatever I can listen to.
Music’s melodies carry memories; “Dancing in the Moonlight” still haunts me. Leaving the emergency room, the song distracted my apprehension and fear. Similarly, songs can remind me of the seasons; Christmas carols bring back images of Uncle Mike’s house filled with relatives, gifts, and eggnog.
As I was finishing this essay, I felt kind of down… Yeah! Now I’m jumping around the room to “Hungry Like the Wolf.” I love music, and it loves me back. I need music in my life. Music relieves me, nourishes me, pleasures me, heals me, and, quite literally, moves me.