Column, repurposed to be a Columbia Essay

My taste in music has changed a lot recently. Maybe I’ve mellowed out with age or I’ve just been exposed to new things, but I find myself less and less interested in many of the bands I listened to just a few months ago. As someone who used to identify strongly with a very specific genre, the realization that my interest in it is waning was initially disheartening, but fortunately I’ve come to realize the benefits.

Growing up, I was exposed to primarily classic and hard rock. I remember a robust supply of ‘80s hair bands (on cassette) around the house and car when I was a kid. I’m sure that had a lot to do with my interests later in life. It evolved as I got older and, of course, when I got to my teenage years I rebelled and branched out from what I had been raised on. Not being one to settle for what everyone else was doing, I discovered punk rock, and it managed to stick with me ever since.

It’s amazing how much of your life can be dictated by the kind of music you listen to, especially at that age. I now say I don’t like when people adopt a lifestyle based on a type of music, but back then it was inevitable and probably beneficial. I don’t remember the order in which it happened, but somewhere along the line I adopted a new style of clothing, new friends and pink hair. This is incongruent with my current philosophy but at the time it worked out well, giving me somewhere to fit in outside of wind ensemble.

Incidentally, the conflict between punk and wind ensemble only appeared once. The director tried to convince me I wouldn’t be allowed to attend a competition because he thought my orange hair would be a distraction to judges. Performing without a flute soloist is infinitely more distracting than performing with an orange-haired one, so ultimately I was allowed onstage even with my Kool-Aid head. At the time it felt like a victory for rebellion.

In the years since I left high school, a lot about me has changed, as it tends to do, but until recently my musical choices stayed relatively consistent.

In the five years between high school and moving to Brooklyn I lived in Georgia. While there, I lost a huge part of my sense of self. Seemingly everything about me - my political views, the way I talked, even my clothes - was farther outside of the norm than I had ever been. I lost touch with a lot of things but my music never changed, especially when I was driving alone.

When I moved to New York I didn’t know anyone, and it made me feel like I could actually be myself - whoever that was. That led to slow changes in several aspects of my life but my musical preferences still remained the same as they had been for years. I assumed that meant this was right.

What amazed me was when my taste, which had been so solid for years, began to shift. I began to be unimpressed by some of the bands that used to move me. What drew me in now was softer, more complex and seemingly not me. While this was far from a crisis of identity it was both unsettling and interesting to realize it was happening.

A lot of things have changed about me lately and maybe this is just a manifestation of that. Maybe it’s the result of that – being more knowledgeable and comfortable with who I am as a person has allowed me to stop feeling like I need a genre of music to identify myself. Maybe it’s because the Sirius punk station is off limits at work, so I substituted indie rock as the next best thing and actually liked it. Maybe it’s age or maturity.

Branching out is good. I was probably closing myself off for all those years and have moved on. Besides, a more varied taste means more opportunities for new artists, albums and concerts. I’ve seen some seemingly incompatible bands live recently, taking in a punk show one night and a folk-rock concert a week later. There was a time I would have scoffed at the idea.

I’m happy to have widened my musical viewpoint. There is only one drawback. My music collection is now larger than my iPod.