Music Confessions

I've always been a faker when it comes to music: I listened to whatever those around me listened to, whether they were roommates, coworkers, or (more often than not) boyfriends. Mostly, they were people I admired. As if listening to what they listened to would make me more like them...

Living in Nigeria has shown me the ways I am my own person with individual tastes and preferences. Unfortunately, music is not among them. I'm still trying to figure out where I fit into the music-listening spectrum. While I wait for self-discovery in that regard, I use music to ease the intermittent periods of loneliness.

Sara Groves' music reminds me of my introduction to music, in all the innocence of a homeschooled prepubescent. Her various albums later became guideposts throughout high school, and finally cemented as symbols of my relationship with my best friends. I listen to her when I need to remember life before it was complicated, when I need to quiet my worries. Her music imparts the same kind of soul-calm as a conversation with my best friends.

The following artists have places in my iTunes library because of various boys: Ace Troubleshooter, All-American Rejects, Anberlin, Augustana, Fall Out Boy, FM Static, The Fray, Green Day, Hawk Nelson, Hidden in Plain View, Keane, The Killers, Mae, MxPx, New Amsterdams, OneRepublic, Relient K, Snow Patrol, Starting Line, & Stellar Kart. It's quite a list and I won't waste your time by chronicling the person and story behind each & every one. I will tell you that exactly 4 of these artists are, in my un-influenced opinion, pretty good, and I now listen to those 4 for my own sake.

My college roommates had quite a profound impact on my music listening habits. Whenever I need to remember what belonging to the Wheaton community felt like, I listen to Kepano Green, Matt Wertz, Paul Wright, Iron & Wine, Amos Lee, Ali Rogers, Juanes, The Format, Jamie Cullum, Jack's Mannequin, and the soundtracks to Pride & Prejudice and The Holiday. They bring back the good memories and the overwhelming presence of estrogen.

Belonging to Life Church profoundly shaped my college experience, so now I listen to Asher Lev when I want to remember what it felt like to be part of the body of Christ.

There's a playlist on my iPod entitled "Dad's Music." My father is a particular man when it comes to music and is impossible to pin down to a particular genre. He's a song man, meaning he latches on to particular songs more often than to artists or albums (which must be where I get the habit). He likes sad songs and songs that tell stories. I love John Prine, Van Morrison, Steve Goodman, Simon & Garfunkel, Johnny Cash, Tom Waits, Billy Joel, Harry Chapin, Bonnie Raitt and Frank Sinatra because I grew up listening to their songs in the car with Dad. "Dad's Music" is the most-played playlist on my iPod.

This leaves only a handful of artists I listen to because I decided I liked them: Coldplay, Switchfoot, John Mayer, Colbie Caillat, Train, Norah Jones, and most recently, Owl City. I listen to them for a host of reasons, but also because nobody handed me their CD and said, "Here. Try this and let me know what you think."

So there's my confession: I am a music faker. But in their own way, these artists help me cope with the loneliness that plagues me in Africa. I suppose there are plenty other ways to cope, but most of them would be unhealthy, and few would comfort me the way my music's emotional weight does.

I'm Maggie and iTunes helps me keep it together.