Music Recommendations

My favorite way of getting to know people is by becoming familiar with their taste in music. The music that a person enjoys says a lot about them. What subjects they connect to, what vibes, genres, or emotions they are drawn to, whether they pay greater attention to the instrumentation, vocals, or a mix of both, what they consider entertaining, is all equally important for me to form a three-dimensional understanding of a person. As hungry as I am to learn of a person’s music taste, I am equivalently desperate to share my music taste with others. It’d be remiss to pretend like this wasn’t motivated by a desire for validation from others, but it’s greater than just this. I want others to hear the music I enjoy, to associate it with me, to see me and my interests and care about me through the means of something I am deeply passionate about.

Despite constantly discussing and sharing music with others, I am always surprised whenever someone recommends music to me. I am especially taken aback when someone tells me “This made me think of you.” Nothing makes me feel more seen, more real in other people’s eyes than someone hearing a song and thinking of me. These moments linger with me, and create lasting connections with people that stick with me long after I even remain in contact with those that heard me through a piece of music. 

Rather than keeping this love and recognition internally, I wanted to verbalize my appreciation and sentiment I have for the music that has been shared with me, thus allowing me to appreciate the people who shared this music with me. Most of these songs are shaped by recency bias, as there are no songs earlier than a few years ago, but even in that short time, this music reflects the places I’ve been and the differing stages of my life. I’ve also (obviously) been recommended a lot of music outside of just these seven examples; these just happen to be tied to important memories or sentimental reasons.

If you’re mentioned in this list, thank you for seeing me. If you’ve ever listened to music with me or shared the music you like with me, thank you for letting me see you. 

Jerusalem - Dan Bern - Sent to me by my girlfriend, Alyss

When Alyss and I first became friends, we created a Spotify blend to see where our music tastes aligned, and become exposed to the others’ music that we were unfamiliar with. It makes sense why we became so close so quickly, we immediately became immersed in the other’s personality and self through the means of  our favorite music.

This song is insanely goofy. A man rambles through his train-of-thought that culminates in him claiming he is the Messiah to relieve all the people waiting for the Messiah’s return. When I’ve listened to “Jerusalem” with certain people, they were immediately annoyed with the repetitive lyrics, singer’s vocal tone, and/or the ridiculous nature of the song. However, you were right, I did like this song. I love this song actually. My favorite kind of music is when people are able to tell a story with nothing more than just their words and a guitar, displaying great love and attention to their tale through the instrument’s carefully plucked strings and deliberate melody. It meant a lot to me that you realized this so soon into the time that we knew each other, and really highlights why we became so close and bonded so easily and fully: you always saw me in my entirety and made me feel seen. 

Beautiful Boy - John Lennon - Was assigned this song by my friend, Kat, in a game where he assigned songs to his Instagram followers

Before I get further into this, I’d like to apologize for including a John Lennon song. (I know I know, it sounds goofy to say but I mean it!) I get it, I hate him too! If you don’t know or are unaware, John Lennon was a horrendous man, whose legacy as a famous singer-songwriter and Beatles member often hides his actions as an abuser. This song tragically partakes in this legacy, sharing a heartfelt reassurance to his son that his father was there for him and would protect him from “the monster,” despite his father being his son’s monster in reality. I don’t think I can appreciate this song without recognizing this hypocrisy and Lennon’s abusive actions.

Despite this, “Beautiful Boy” holds great meaning for me, not in the lens of a father-son relationship, but through the perspective of being seen as a boy. 

It took a long time for me to realize that I was trans, and even longer for me to fully come to terms with this truth and start living as the boy that I always was. When Kat associated this song with me, I had just come out as genderfluid, with a clear resonance towards being trans-masculine. I used all pronouns, but people mainly only referred to me as “they” or “she.” At the time, having a gender different from the one assigned to me at birth was still incredibly fresh, and I was satisfied with “they,” and still unsure and dissonant with “he,” the pronoun I didn’t know yet I longed to be called. 

Kat’s association of “Beautiful Boy” with me was one of the first times I had been associated with maleness, one of the first times I actually felt seen as a boy. Kat called me his “beautiful boy,” and for once, I truly felt like I was. I couldn’t understand yet why I was so touched by this simple Instagram post, why being called a “beautiful boy” brought me to tears that couldn’t stop falling. It’s okay that I didn’t understand this yet. I didn’t need to. For once, I felt beautiful in my truest and realest self, one that others could see too.

The “Emo Sampler” Playlist - Created and sent to me by my friend Mikey

Music extends outside of self-expression and personal interest for me, and expands into cultural and social knowledge. I’m always hungry for exposure to music of different genres, artists, and time periods, as I can learn great amounts from it. I not only see music as a source of entertainment, but also a source of enrichment and opportunities to learn about other people and cultures that I might not otherwise be cut off from by remaining within the bubble of the music I typically listen to. In short, I see knowledge and understanding of music as another form of literacy that should be cultivated through constant exploration.

Recently, one of the genres I’ve aimed to learn more about is emo music. When I was a teenager, I listened to the genre a lot, but slowly got out of a multi-year emo phase as I progressed into high school. However, I’ve joyfully been enjoying the music I loved when I was 12, and have also wanted to delve deeper into emo music and its various subgenres (particularly midwest emo). My current knowledge of emo bands and music is tragically limited to that of what is found from Hot Topic band t-shirts, so I knew that I needed to listen to more to get a better grasp. Luckily, I have quite a few friends who are avid emo enjoyers, such as Mikey, who I told about my goal to listen to more emo / midwest emo.

Not only did Mikey send me a song or two that he enjoyed, he made an entire sampler playlist for me to listen to. This 27-song playlist is a mix of various sounds, tempos, and flavors of pathetic men lamenting the difficulties of love and life. Even though he sent it to me a few months ago, I’ve been taking my time in listening to everything, trying to absorb the music that my friend considered notable enough to send to me. I think my favorites have been “Never Meant” by American Football and “January 10th, 2014” by The World is a Beautiful Place & I am No Longer Afraid to Die, as they make me feel like Charlie riding through the tunnel in the “We are Infinite” scene in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I’m in no rush to work through the playlist, and am looking forward to spending the next couple weeks replaying and relistening to each track (as well as discover the new tracks that are still being added) as I find new artists to add to my own playlists and randomly enthuse about with Mikey. I am genuinely overjoyed to explore new music that my friend enjoys and share this love of music together.

Epic III - Hadestown – Recommended by two teachers to sing in a vocal workshop class

Realizing you are trans-masc while in a school program that requires you to perform constantly and use your voice is something I would not recommend to anyone. While I absolutely love performing and singing, it was difficult finding music that fit my soprano pre-T range that also allowed me to present masculinely. I was left with incredibly few options, often scraping the bottom of my range with songs that were considered high-pitched for tenors and conceding to the comfortable pop-jazz of Laufey that actually allowed me to comfortably sing in my range. 

However, one day during my Audition Techniques class, both my acting and music teachers recommended that I sing “Epic III” from Hadestown. While I knew of Hadestown, I wasn’t that familiar with the music in it, so I needed to go out of my way to learn it. The song that they recommended is a stunning moment in the musical where Orpheus pleads to Hades to free his wife, Eurydice, from the Underworld through the nostalgic story and melodies from when Hades fell in love with Persephone. I instantly loved this song for countless reasons, but was especially floored that I could comfortably sing in Orpheus’s range. For once, I was perfectly capable of singing a song delivered by a male performer without feeling incapable or dysphoric about my voice. Even though I never chose to actually perform it for the class, I practiced it often and had the best time learning the nuances and emotion built into this piece.

Over a year later, I had gone through the motions of detransitioning, accepting again that I was in fact a transgender man, and beginning the process of medically transitioning with HRT. Out of everything that T offered me, I was the most ecstatic for my voice to change, now that I finally realized how cripplingly dysphoric my high-pitched voice made me feel. Feeling on top of the world, I turned back to an old playlist I had made while I was in Young Americans to attempt voice training in my lower range, and I stumbled upon “Epic III” again. Actually being able to comfortably sing this song before the effects of testosterone made me break out in tears, sobbing hysterically along to this ballad on the middle of the 91 freeway. You know, stereotypical theatre kid activities. 

I’m so grateful for the efforts of my teachers to accommodate me and my transition into their classrooms, creating a place where I was already seen as male while every other aspect of my life expected me to do the Sisyphean task of performing my gender perfectly according to to the cisgender standards being placed upon me. Even though my voice was dropped waaaayyy past the ability for me to sing “Epic III” in its original key, I still look back at this song as fondly as Hades does, remembering the power that a simple melody holds.

When Did Your Heart Go Missing? - Rooney - Recommended by my friend Emily

During elections, libraries are often turned into voting sites where people can easily fill out and/or drop off their ballots. These periods of political dread have become times of opportunity and excitement for me, purely because I get the chance to pick up extra hours at these voting sites. These shifts demand only that library staff just remain present within the building to make sure that the separate voting staff do not interfere with any library material or go into spaces outside of their allowed domain. Basically, we were paid to just be there and do nothing.

My favorite shifts were on Sundays, when I could sign up for 8 hour shifts that would allow me to spend all day working on homework, read books I hadn’t the previous time or attention to enjoy, and bond with the staff who were also using the extra hours for leisure or productivity. 

It has become a tradition for me, Emily, and another lovely coworker to watch a movie together when we are all present on an ROV Sunday. We went all out for our last movie, bringing Diet Dr. Pepper and a huge bowl of buttery microwave popcorn we feasted on while watching “The Princess Diaries.” Once the movie ended, Emily asked if I knew that the main love interest was also in a band. When I clearly didn't, you recommended this song, which became an instant classic to jam out to during my commutes. Despite being about heartbreak, this song reminds me of the fun and friendships I've found from my librarian job.

Long Time Friends - The Living Tombstone - Recommended by a former friend in Young Americans

This song was recommended to me by a person I am no longer friends with, who I knew from my time in the Young Americans. I drove over to their apartment after they randomly asked if I was free, clearly sensing that something was wrong. After having a heart-to-heart about the awful state of our pursuits of romance, they told me that I would really like the “zero_one” album by the Living Tombstone, particularly this song. We listened to it in my car before you left, and I was absolutely floored. In the song, the singer rejects a person who had been toxic in their life, claiming that they were free from the relationship that had previously trapped them. Despite being an upbeat, defiant song, I am 80% confident that I cried when I heard this. I had just been broken up with by a person who I was convinced was my soulmate, who I felt too committed to to properly recognize how harmful this relationship had been to me. This song was on repeat for weeks and weeks after this, until one day, I locked this song away, as thinking about the person who shared it with me became a paralyzing endeavor.

I struggle to hear your name, even when someone else bears it; recognizing you by saying your name is unimaginable. It’s easy to forget anything good that existed in our convoluted friendship. However, this song reminds me of the good that did exist. How you provided me companionship after finding myself with no friends in the dust of a toxic, isolating relationship. How you helped me to overcome my crippling fear and trauma associated with taking edibles by taking one with me and reassuring me that I would be okay because you were there with me. How excited you were to see me show up for you at your New Kids’ Show after I had fallen out of touch for multiple months, the massive smile and hug that embraced both my body and my soul. How you genuinely apologized to me for hurting me in the ways that you did after I confronted you absolutely drunk out of my mind, showing a real sense of care and remorse I had longed for since the night of June 18th. 

I recently listened to this song again for the first time in months, and I was finally able to feel comforted by your memory, rather than haunted. Thank you for sharing this with me, it meant a lot more than I think you ever fully realized, just like how much you meant to me.

The Milk Carton - Elio Mei - Introduced to me by Alyss

In the middle of a weekly hangout at our favorite park that probably ended around 2 in the morning, Alyss asked me if I had ever heard the song “The Milk Carton,” playing it for me when I clearly hadn’t. What a fun song! Elio Mei’s light voice, whimsical production, and natural storytelling ability immediately captured my heart. Anytime I wanted to feel some sort of escape from life (or have a joyful reminder of Alyss), I would put on “The Milk Carton” and enjoy 5 minutes in a world where survival feels possible and even hopeful in dark, overwhelming circumstances. 

 Elio Mei very quickly became a household name for me and Alyss. Combing through his discography and enthusing about our favorite songs was a common activity, in which we’d appreciate their fantastical bard-inspired EP alongside their stunning circus-themed album that was somehow so relatable. At both life’s highs and lows, Elio’s music was a perfect source of comfort, joy, and reassurance. 

It’s been incredible being an Elio Mei fan, whether that’s been related to listening to the music they’ve released, seeing them on tour, or supporting their coming out as Elio. I’ve loved watching Elio grow into himself over the past year at the same time as I’ve gotten to watch me and Alyss grow into ourselves. Now when I listen to “The Milk Carton,” I am brought back to the early days of my transition where simple things like being called by my preferred name and late night get-aways in a small, local park were the highlights of my week.