I Believe

“I am fourteen years old and the biggest Led Zelpelin fan. I love ALL there albums: Led Zelpellin 1, Led Zelpin 2, Led Zelpilin 3, Houses of the Holy. Fourteen years old. Led Zelpelin,” is an actual YouTube comment by some child in the world who I’d prefer you not to associate me with while reading this essay.

I had yet to become a teenager by the time I was bewitched by Beatlemania alongside my best friend. I meticulously listened to all of the Beatles albums in order, and came out of each near religious experience saying, “This is my favorite album. Ever.” I've been described as incapable of naming all members of One Direction, but confident in my ability to name which Beatle sings which harmony on which song. When my parents surprised me with a life-size cardboard cut out of George Harrison, I was at the point of no return.

Soon my room became a like a giant scrapbook, a true window into my mind (which is usually hosting some sort of radio show). As my passion and appreciation for rock music expanded, I filled the pages of the “scrapbook.” Tickets from Grateful Dead concerts, treasured autographs of my favorite folk rockers, Pink Floyd posters, and vinyl records cluttered my desk and walls.

My dad has probably been the largest enabler of my musical obsession, handing me down his taste and his speakers. As I re-assembled the Paradigms, finally figuring out which wire went where, I felt a sense of accomplishment in that my desire for music had taught me a practical skill. It later brought me to learn to play the guitar. I found it gratifying that my love of music had given me the tools to go even deeper. It wasn’t enough to play Neil Young’s raucous Down By the River out of a mere cell phone speaker; I needed both channels, and possibly a subwoofer. And it wasn't enough just to listen, I needed to strum along. 

I’ve never been the type of fan to over analyze song lyrics. I believe they can and should be interpreted by the individual. I am, however, deeply infatuated by the story behind the song. I found myself not asking, “What does this song mean?” but “Who wrote this song? And why?” By becoming fascinated by the person behind the voice or the solo I so scrupulously listened to, I stumbled upon the ultimate purpose of art and music: to communicate ideas to each other and share in the human experience through expression.

I still haven’t figured out exactly what this realization means in terms of a career path, but I can be certain music will always play an immovable role in my life. I think the universality of music, its capability to bring people together and understand each other, is what appeals to and inspires me most. So long as I foster my love of music, I know I will find a way to contribute to a community what I value and what betters it for the people who comprise it. All the more reason to “just keep truckin’ on.”