music in the trunk of a car
I think that would depend largely on my mood. I enjoy a wide range of music, from classical to hair metal, nu-metal, hip-hop, R&B, folk, and pretty much anything in between. I don’t really think I would classify one particular genre as being my favorite over another, but my choice on which to listen to would largely depend on what I’m doing, how I’m feeling at the moment, and whether or not I’ve heard the song and/or genre a bit too much, since over-listening to a particular song within a particular genre can be its own torture.
For instance, when I’m working on a particularly challenging project, I might reach for classical music—something like Bach’s “Goldberg Variations” played by Glenn Gould. The precision and complexity of the music create a sort of mental order amidst the chaos of my tasks. Gould’s fingers dancing over the keys are like an intricate ballet, a cerebral massage that eases my mind into focus.
On the other hand, when I’m driving late at night, nothing beats the raw energy of hair metal. There’s something liberating about blasting Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” with the windows down, feeling the wind whip through my hair. It’s as if the unapologetic excess of the ’80s is propelling me forward, urging me to embrace a sense of carefree rebellion, if only for a few minutes.
Then there are those introspective moments, the ones where I need to retreat into my thoughts and sift through the complexities of life. Folk music becomes my companion here, particularly the melancholic strumming of Nick Drake. His “Pink Moon” album is like an old friend, whispering secrets and sorrows, helping me navigate the labyrinth of my own emotions.
Hip-hop and R&B have their own special places too. When I need to feel grounded, connected to the pulse of the present, I turn to artists like Kendrick Lamar. His album “To Pimp a Butterfly” is a tour de force of lyrical prowess and social commentary, a modern-day odyssey that challenges me to confront uncomfortable truths while getting lost in its rhythmic genius.
And then there’s nu-metal. A genre often maligned, but to me, it’s a guilty pleasure that I don’t feel guilty about at all. Bands like Linkin Park and Korn bring a visceral catharsis that’s unparalleled. The fusion of heavy guitar riffs with hip-hop beats and angst-ridden lyrics speaks to the dissonant, rebellious teenager that still resides somewhere within me. They were the bands and song of my youth, so that emo-sounding, yelling-singing that often comes across as whining brings back a sense of nostalgia from time to time.
The eclectic nature of my musical tastes reflects the varied tapestry of my life. There’s no single genre that could encapsulate all my experiences, moods, and aspirations. Music, in its many forms, provides a soundtrack to my existence, each genre a different shade on the palette of my daily life.
So, I suppose I probably answer exactly one specific genre of music as being my favorite of all. It’s the genre that matches the moment. It’s the one that resonates with the beat of my heart at any given time, the one that understands my unspoken thoughts and amplifies my unexpressed emotions. It’s ever-changing.
Fred Aiken Writing 