Music is often discovered in one’s youth. Whether searching for “rebellious songs to listen to when I’m angry at my parents” or analysing the great tracks of decades past, teenagers channel their taste in music alongside their evolving sense of self. Adolescence is chaotic and disconcerting; teens seek either refuge or reassurance in the face of such turmoil, and music offers both. Romance, addiction, heartbreak, anger, and joy can all be experienced with the press of a button.

 

By the time we reach adulthood, we have reconciled ourselves with music as a release from normalcy. Headphones during a daily commute spare us the cacophony of catcalls and honking horns. Music in the car alleviates the boredom that otherwise accompanies a long journey. Menial tasks such as cleaning or revision become tolerable thanks to a string orchestra. Even spirited nights can be raised to new heights with a well-timed bass drop.

 

We create the soundtrack of our own lives. This soundtrack sometimes exists exclusively in our minds: a song stuck in our head or emanating from headphones during a midday jog. This allows us to march to the beat of our own drum, further establishing our sense of individuality.

 

Although consumed by the masses, music has the ability, like all art, to be appreciated in an infinite number of ways. For this reason, it is intrinsically associated with one’s character. Our soundtrack is our essence. Tied to childhood memories and teenage turmoil, it is both nostalgic and new, a reminder of the past and saviour of the present. Without music, the world would be incredibly, unbearably quiet.

 

Natasha Franks