Thank you, everyone, for listening. (Or is it reading?)
Over the past year, my dedicated fans—shoutout Ms. Hudson and Mr. Vazquez, a select few of my friends, and, of course, my parents—have supported my music review column. It turns out “Keenly Attuned” was a name my mother thought of during (I think?) my sophomore fall. I’ve always loved music, and I thought writing a column about it would give me a chance to relax and reflect on something that genuinely interested me.
I’d prefer to leave this column unstructured. Here are my thoughts as they present themselves to me during B free— the only time I’ll have today before I send this column out into The Vanguard’s editing ether.
Writing this column has been a pleasure. Although I’ve written every column in one sitting (usually the night before its due—sorry, Chloe), I think I’ve learned a lot more about music (and myself!) by giving myself a chance to sit down and reflect on something I do every day without fail: listen to music. But on the other hand, I’ve realized that I don’t like music reviews. After spending almost an entire year reviewing albums as a person who doesn’t create music, I’ve discovered that critiquing music makes me feel pretentious and annoying more than anything else. I also think opinions about music are entirely subjective— something I don’t think I acknowledged enough in my first couple of reviews. I love music, but I don’t like it when people force opinions on me. I hope I haven’t done that to any of my readers (those precious few who make it this far through a
copy of The Vanguard).
I’ve spent a lot of time reviewing music that I’m not the
largest fan of in an effort to appeal to a larger audience. I want to lash out at this, but I honestly think it was a good step forward in developing my ability to appreciate different types of music.
I wrote my first column two years ago about Kid Cudi’s “Entergalactic.” It was an interesting experience but also a response to the fact that I was concussed for the Kid Cudi concert that I was supposed to go to at the start of sophomore year. That wasn’t fun.
I really liked “Short n’ Sweet.” I wasn’t a huge fan of “Only God was Above Us.” Through writing this column, I’ve discovered that my favorite music isn’t my favorite music to review. I’ve actually found that I sometimes stay away from reviewing the music I listen to on a daily basis because I just want to enjoy the tunes.
In fact, I think I’m done being a music critic. This column has given me many things, but a true deeper enjoyment of the musical art wasn’t one of them. As my artistic mentor, Upper School Photo Teacher Andrew Warren, often says: “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” I believe music is best processed without the exchange of words—most of the time, for me, it’s processed between friends in a car with a new album playing on full volume.
And if that isn’t possible for you, make time to listen to an album. Don’t say anything—just absorb. In the future, that’s how I plan to take in music: as a person in the backseat of a boat on a wonderful journey, a journey I have no hand in shaping.
