Tomi Lahren, Let's Talk

Sorry to hit y'all with two political posts in a row, monthly playlist coming later today.

I don't usually like to call people out on the Internet. I like to choose my battles. Generally, I don't talk about celebrity missteps because I feel like it's not worth it. Cultural appropriation, for example, deserves to be dragged for FILTH, but the topic is too nuanced to be accurately debated over any social media platform. Rape culture exists similarly; people who are anti-feminist love to spout statistics about how the wage gap isn't real, or about how rape is not a big a problem as people think, or about how cat-calling is a compliment. Or something.

But today, I am calling someone out. Tomi Lahren, let's talk.

She is a television and online video host who, right now, is under fire for her controversial comments about Jesse Williams' BET Humanitarian Award acceptance speech. Just for fun, I'm gonna link the two videos side by side so you can watch them and form your own opinions before you read mine.

Jesse Williams (& accompanying report from Slate): http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2016/06/27/actor_and_activist_jesse_williams_gave_a_fiery_speech_at_the_bet_awards.html

Tomi Lahren (not sure if this specific link will work, but you shouldn't have a problem finding it on her Facebook page): https://www.facebook.com/TomiLahren/videos/1017506241675896/

I'll wait.

Okay, welcome back.

Now, there's a lot of nuance involved in Jesse Williams' speech. There's the argument that it's easy for people like the ones at the BET awards to comment on the plight of African-Americans, because their own lives are somewhat removed from things like police brutality or profiling or the pay gap (it's been proven that there IS a Hollywood pay gap, but it matters way more on principle than in practice, considering that all big-name Hollywood actors are making absolutely ludicrous amounts of money). There's the idea that perhaps Williams was showboating, that his speech was a bit theatrical and long-running and almost self-serving given the severity of the issues he spoke about. There's the argument--and this is the only one I really find compelling--that being a biracial, light-skinned man talking about black issues is almost as Kiplingesque as a white man talking about the same issues (see: White Man's Burden). As a biracial person myself (albeit one not quite as racially ambiguous as Williams), I often question my place in racial discussions. Should our opinions come with an asterisk?

But colorism and socioeconomic status can be touched on another day. I'm looking at an issue that's just a little bit more black and white (excuse the pun).

Jesse Williams made a lot of phenomenal points. He talked about police brutality in a tender way that highlighted the lives of the victims rather than the death caused at the hands of their blue-clad executioners. He thanked black women, the unsung heroes of political movements and households, and promised to do better by them. He talked about cultural appropriation, the desire of black entertainers to be given modern "brands," as it were, and seamlessly integrated a quote from "Strange Fruit," a poem that remains worth reading in 2016. He was composed, he was articulate, and he never strayed from his intent. He maintained that our work is not done, and that simply being a successful African-American is not enough to stave off the oppression of our less successful brothers and sisters.

I cried when I watched that speech.

Now Tomi. I honestly pity you. Because the hate that you summoned in your response to this speech--a speech that was carefully curated and delivered to convey love, and NOT hate--could only have been learned behavior. Who taught you to hate? Who taught you to willfully dismiss struggles that you cannot understand? You're not a bad person. You've just been benefitting from a system that privileges pretty white women your entire life. What I don't understand is that white women have their own struggles. Being a beautiful woman, it must have been hard to be taken seriously in the fields of entertainment and journalism. You're probably not getting paid as much as your male colleagues for doing similar work. You probably get cat-called on your daily commute. You probably had to work really, really hard just to get where you are, and you're probably discriminated against all the time.

So why can't you see that black people are going through? Why can't you at least acknowledge that there have been miscarriages of justice, even if you don't exactly understand how?

I'm gonna dissect your response now.

You begin by saying that the BET awards were "very black." This is a fair observation, because BET stands for Black Entertainment Television. The need for such an initialism, such a channel, developed in the 20th century when black people were few and far between on major network shows, and if they were featured, they were caricatures and stereotypes, active players in their own degradation--they essentially played themselves in minstrel shows. With BET, black actors and executives took control of their destinies and put forth the programming that they wanted to see. BET has been rightfully criticized for some of its negative portrayals of its own people, through perpetuations of stereotypes in TV shows and music videos. However, while I'm not a huge fan of everything BET puts on the air, I respect what it symbolizes--a place for black entertainers to get their (well-deserved) chance on the small screen. I especially love the BET Awards, where black performers who are snubbed at major (read: white) awards shows can be recognized for their talents.

You then criticize Williams for "police bashing." While Williams brings up Tamir Rice, the 12-year-old boy who was shot dead by police for playing with a toy gun in a public park--among others--you talk about how the phrase "unarmed black man" is only technically accurate. You say that if someone reaches for an officer's gun or uses another object as a means of defense, they don't deserve a "free pass." I'm not up to date on recent cop-on-black attacks, but as far as I know, many of the deaths that have made headlines--and caused outrage in the black community--are not about violent perps savagely beating cops. I, for one, am not a proponent of mindless violence. They're about unarmed--literally and figuratively--black men who are arrested or detained on minor charges, who cooperate with officers, and who are still, for some reason, shot to death. Even in cases where the victims became violent, it was in self-defense.

I'm not going to talk about black people who have only hatred of the police due to a history of abuse. That's not a life I've lived, and I don't think I can speak on that. What I will say is that I don't hate police, and I don't think Jessie Williams hates police. I think he hates police brutality. And while not all cops brutalize their suspects, all police brutality is caused by cops.

You then play a couple of my favorite quotes from Williams' speech. I'll paraphrase: "If you have a critique for our resistance, you better have a record of critiquing our oppression. If you don't believe in equal rights for black people, then do not offer suggestions for those who do. Sit down."

You ask what rights black people don't have. Well, just to name a few: many predominantly black neighborhoods have been systematically disenfranchised, meaning that despite voting rights for all having been put on the books ~50 years ago, the government is still finding ways to stop black people from doing so; the wage gap between white men and black women, Asian woman, and Latina women is far greater than the wage gap between white men and white women; studies have been done proving that people with "ethnic sounding" names are more likely to be rejected by employers even if they have the same qualifications as applicants with "white sounding" names; and people of color are dramatically underrepresented (and badly represented) in mainstream media (Asians and Latinos actually struggle with this far more than black people, but blacks are still not being represented accurately). Oh, right. And black men are seven times more likely to be shot and killed by police while unarmed than white men are.

So, yeah. We'd just like the vote (regardless of where we live), equal pay, fair opportunities at employment, adequate representation in the media, and also not to die because some (NOT ALL JUST SOME) police officers are scared of black people. You seem to be fine with how things are now. That's really saying something about what you think of people of color.

You also say that white people have a track record of critiquing our oppression by citing that a lot of white people fought for the North in the Civil War. Well, Tomi, if we're gonna get historical, allow me to point out that the only reason there was slavery in America in the first place was because white people went to Africa and stole black people from their homes to make them work for no money. And then they physically and verbally abused them for centuries and implemented a political system that would continue to disadvantage them to the present day.

Williams wasn't TALKING about the Civil War in that moment. He was talking about modern individuals who are so quick to silence black voices in the discussion of equality for being illogical or overemotional or combative, when they never once criticize our oppressors for the ills they cause.

Your point about white Southern Democrats fighting FOR slavery is also just bizarre. An American history teacher can tell you that after the Civil War, the parties realigned their beliefs, and so what we now consider to be Democrats would actually have been Republicans in the 1800s, and vice versa. Sooooooo.

You then tell Jesse Williams to check his privilege and accuses people like him of dividing America, not white people. This statement absolutely blows my mind. I can't even really put into words how ignorant it is to suggest that black people are the source of racial hatred in the United States.

You also say that you pity him if he thinks he's a victim. Well, if you pay attention to other parts of his speech, you'll notice that he's not talking about himself, and he even calls out his own financial success, as well as the success of others in the room. They know that they, personally, are not victims. But they speak for a community of oppressed people. To be wealthy and famous and black brings you a powerful platform for the poor and the disconnected. Williams is reminding his fortunate counterparts that their job is to do the work that others can't, to represent their race as strong and intelligent and creative and beautiful, to speak for the voiceless.

Another troubling point you bring up is that Williams seems to be asking for special treatment instead of equal rights. Here is a comic that might explain what he's actually talking about:

Great. Now we've got that covered.

You end by telling Jesse Williams that HE is the one who needs to "sit down." In a way, it's fitting that you conclude with this statement. It's condescending and uneducated and coming from a place of fear--a fear of black strength, beauty, and intelligence that has flowed through white people since the 1600s, when we were brought over here on slave ships, and fear of your own falling empire. White people in positions of power will do everything they can to prevent minorities from rising up. It's hard to see from this angle, given all the progress that we've made. But those old systems are still in place--creaky and precarious, but still there. And people like you, Tomi Lahren, seem to want to keep it that way.

I wrote this in a fit of inspiration after watching your video, Tomi, but I now know that this isn't addressed to you. If you even read this, you won't be changed by it. You'll say that I'm just like Jesse Williams, that I'm trying to racially divide our peoples, that I'm playing the victim, that I want a "gold star just for being born." Even though none of those things are true, you're going to keep believing it, because it makes you feel better. You don't want to acknowledge the awful things that some of your white ancestors did. You don't want to acknowledge the awful things that white people today, your counterparts, are still doing. You'd rather have black people comfort you and tell you that racism is over because it makes you feel good than to do something about the injustices that are playing out on stages all over the country to this day.

So yeah, this isn't really addressed to you. It's addressed to anyone who had a serious problem with Jesse Williams' speech. It's addressed to anyone who doesn't want to talk about race anymore. This is a letter for anyone who somehow believes that 2016 is just another year in post-racial America.

Best,
Jensen

In Defense of Affirmative Action - Unpacking #StayMadAbby and the Secrets of College Admission

I am not going to be citing statistics or studies or Supreme Court cases in this post because this blog is not a news source. This is my opinion, though I do believe that it is a compelling one. If you'd like to see hard facts supporting my opinion, the Internet is full of valuable resources.

I was accepted into two prestigious universities during my senior year of high school, one of which I ended up attending (the Thornton School of Music at the University of Southern California). The other institution was ranked higher on lists comparing national universities, and when the news broke of my acceptance - I'd like to add that I didn't intend for the news to spread so broadly and so quickly - I experienced a wide variety of reactions. There was support from friends and acquaintances who were just proud and excited for me. There was indifference from people who didn't know me or didn't care about such goings on. And there was vitriol. The vitriol was fueled by jealousy - people who weren't accepted to the same or similar universities (one friend said, "Oh, I guess they're just letting everyone in now") - as well as other tensions. As much as people would hate to admit it, that tension was sometimes racially driven. At an academically rigorous and competitive high school, many people were vying for the precious few spots at these top universities, and in their eyes, I had taken a spot that belonged to them (which, it should be noted, is not how college admission works). In their (rightful) disappointment, hurt, and anger at being rejected, they lashed out at me. Countless friends told me about classmates who'd said that I didn't deserve to get in and that, because the school was not my first choice, I was taking a spot from someone who really wanted it (again, not how college admission works - after I denied the offer of admission, it was invariably offered to someone else, perhaps even one of my own classmates who'd been deferred). When discussing a rejection with one of my close friends, they said: "well, we can't all be black, Jewish women." The statement was problematic on a number of levels. One, it assumes that being Jewish or being a woman is helpful in college admission, when in fact both of those attributes are somewhat detrimental in the process (more Jews and more women are applying to college every year; women are even starting to outnumber men in that pool, as far as I know). Two, it assumes that if you're lacking those attributes, it's a given that you will be rejected from your top choice school. And three - and most insidious, in my opinion - this statement assumes that the only reason I was accepted into that selective school was because of my race.

I tried to laugh it off and counter this person's moment of hurtful commentary, but they remained steadfast. They laughed, too, but did not say that they were kidding or retract the statement. They simply said something else to affirm it and moved on.

I was not accepted into my top choice colleges because I am black.

It is frowned upon, for some reason, to talk about one's own qualifications and achievements, but I'm going to do it. I had a good GPA in high school. I tested above the median at my school on the SAT (and the median score at my school is no joke). I participated in a lot of extracurricular activities and achieved leadership positions in many of them. I took foreign language for all four years and, in doing so, finished the entire Spanish curriculum. I got good recommendations and wrote good essays.

I wasn't the perfect candidate. I didn't play sports or write for the newspaper or work on the yearbook or take an AP science. But what made me a great candidate for these schools - aside from the academic proof that I could do all the work - was how different I was from the other applicants. My extracurricular activities were unusual--improv, slam poetry, peer counseling, admission work, and a random stint as a student council rep my senior year. My essays were funny and conversational and emotional - they sounded more like memoirs than a paper you'd turn in for an English class. I submitted a video supplement of my original songs to the other school I applied to, a school that didn't offer very many music classes, let alone a degree in popular music performance. And yes, also, I am black.

But again, I was not accepted because I am black. I was accepted because I'm different.

Racial diversity is a huge part of college admission. Colleges seek to slightly increase their percentages of minority students every year, and many universities are reaching out to minority communities in newer and better ways in order to do that. It is a beautiful thing, because while I am a racial minority in a position of economic privilege, there are many people with my skin color who are not in the same boat socioeconomically. Colleges at every level of selectivity offer a way up and out of bad situations. On still another positive note, the more people of color graduate from four-year universities, the more role models that young people of color will have. It will be a cycle of productivity, mobility, success--you get the picture.

But while racial diversity is a huge part of college admission, by far the biggest part of the process is experiential diversity. Colleges want people from all walks of life. What sets you apart? It might be your race. But it might be your socioeconomic status. It might be a death or a divorce in your youth that made you stronger when you overcame it. It might be that you published a novel or wrote a hit song or invented a machine that makes people's lives easier. More than likely, it will be a combination of all these things. Experiential diversity in all communities, especially academic communities, enriches the life experience of all involved. No matter how numerically qualified you are to attend a university, if there are a thousand versions of you out there vying for the same spots, there's a chance you won't get admitted. That's yet another thing you have to consider in this process. I was admitted because I was qualified, and because I was different, but also because I got lucky. This whole thing is a numbers game, people! At the end of the day, they only have a few seats to fill. You might have done great things, but it might be that there's just not enough space for you. In cases like that, I PROMISE that you will wind up at an equally great school. Seriously. I know this for a fact.

If you are academically qualified and experientially diverse, you will get in somewhere great. So chill on that front. If you got rejected, I promise it's not because you're white. It's because they didn't think you'd fit, or because they already had people like you in the class. Think about it this way: at the place you do end up going to school, you'll be one-of-a-kind! (Or at least just a few of a kind!)

Affirmative action is an evolving policy. It's clear that when under-qualified applicants are accepted and ultimately attend rigorous universities, they do poorly and/or drop out. But more than likely, when a student with grades or test scores below a university's median that winds up going there, there's a pretty good reason. They have proven that they are capable of overcoming obstacles. They have a kind of intelligence that isn't accurately measured with regular modes of testing. They have a hidden talent. They have untapped potential. And someone in that admission office saw it. Affirmative action forces a university to consider things outside of test scores and grades which, let's be honest, are a pretty antiquated way of determining how a student will fare in the "real world." I fully acknowledge that there is a need to standardize the way they evaluate academic ability, but I am thrilled that they are seeking more holistic and unconventional ways to do so, too.

I'm writing this because I'm still seeing articles about people going to court over being rejected from their dream school. I'm writing this because this year, when the Class of 2016 gets their college decisions, frustrated white students are going to lash out at students of color for their success. I'm writing this because I want you to know, whoever you are, that if you work hard and be your best self, things will work out for you. And I'm writing this because I'm proud of my achievements and I don't want there to be any confusion about why I do what I do. I do well. I stand out. And sometimes, I get lucky. I bet you will, too.

May Playlist

May Playlist

Hey all. Summer is being enjoyed, Criminal Minds is being binged, and smoothies are being blended. I'm living it up. Haven't listened to this playlist all that much, but they're all beautiful tunes. Enjoy, my friends.

1. "Bang Bang" - 3:04
ALBUM: Bang Bang
ARTIST: Lawrence Taylor

2. "Fools" - 3:24
ALBUM: Fools
ARTIST: Wild Child

3. "Whenever You Hold Me" - 2:53
ALBUM: EP3
ARTIST: JP Cooper

4. "Simple Twist of Fate" - 4:17
ALBUM: Blood On The Tracks
ARTIST: Bob Dylan

5. "Punks and Poets" - 4:04
ALBUM: 2
ARTIST: Elliot Root

6. "Home of Stone" - 3:47
ALBUM: Home of Stone
ARTIST: Max Pope

7. "So They Say" - 2:57
ALBUM: September Songs
ARTIST: Rukhsana Merrise

8. "Can't Stop the Feeling" -  3:56
ALBUM: Can't Stop the Feeling
ARTIST: Justin Timberlake

9. "California" - 3:05
ALBUM: Jakarta
ARTIST: Kina Grannis

A short playlist for a month too full for much reflective music listening. Next couple months, I plan to  listen to more. This summer, I'm trying to take care of myself and prepare for what will surely be a grueling school year ahead. I always thought I knew exactly who I was. But hey, maybe I'm wrong. I think a lot of things are about to change for me. Or at least, I hope they do.

Talk soon. xo

An Open Letter to the USC Pop Kids, Class of 2020

(No, this won't be anything like the Odyssey).

To the next generation of pop kids:

First off, congratulations! It was a huge accomplishment just getting here.

You are in excellent company. This much, I can guarantee you. Your 20-30 classmates are all wildly skilled vocalists, instrumentalists, and/or songwriters. Over the course of your first year, you will become really close with them. It might not seem like that the first time you meet. It might be awkward or scary; after all, many of you have never been around this many hyper-talented, ambitious musicians at once. But don't be scared. They don't bite. ;)

You are going to be exhausted. A lot. I compared my class schedule with a neuroscience major on my floor last year. We spent the same amount of hours in class (and, in my case, rehearsal). Yep, that's right, you have as many hours of classes as the premed kids. The difference is that your 22+ hours of class will be spent making music, listening to music, or learning about how it works. Plus, you're suffering through it with a crazy cast of characters that will ultimately see right through to the most fragile parts of your soul. Ain't life grand?!

Probably the most important thing I can tell you is that you belong here. During your freshman year, you are going to doubt this. When Andy roasts you during performance class, or you bomb a theory exam, or you don't practice enough for individual instruction and you can't fake your way through your pieces, you're going to wonder if you made the right choice. You're going to think fondly of high school, middle school, any time prior to this when music was just a hobby instead of your job. But in those moments, I will urge you to reach inside of yourself for the hot, bright will to create that brought you here. I want you to think about how much music has hurt and healed you. I want you to reflect on the exploding days and empty nights where all you could think about was the soundtrack to what you were feeling. And I want you to remember that you are one of the people with the unique blessing/curse to make the music for someone else's soundtrack. You are good enough to do it. You owe it to yourself to try your best.

Here are some tips, pieces of advice, and pearls of wisdom that I gathered during my first year of college as a pop music major at USC:

1. Everyone is having a breakdown, just had one, or is about to have one. Don't trust anyone who doesn't have a breakdown their freshman year of college.

2. Your professors are only hard on you because you have the potential to get better. No teacher has ever bothered yelling at a lost cause.

3. There are dozens upon dozens of VoCal ragers, Gateway hangs, EP launches, and Egg Carton kickbacks. Feel free to stay in some nights and skip the predictable chaos of college parties.

4. Your classmates are going to get cool opportunities, and you are going to be jealous of them. This is okay. There is more space for you to succeed than you think.

5. Hook up with other pop kids at your own risk. But I say go for it, if it sounds fun to you. What am I, your mom? (Actually, don't answer that).

6. Do your theory and aural skills homework. Please just do it. Okay? You don't even have to go to office hours or study for tests. But just do it. Please. All right. Good talk.

7a. You are probably going to fall in love with someone in your pop class, or in one of the other pop classes. You are probably going to write songs about them. Play those songs at your shows, even if they're in the audience; I guarantee they will be some of your best.

7b. As an addendum to the above: they probably won't even know you wrote it about them, unless you say your name or something. So seriously, go for it.

8. You are going to be tempted to collaborate with literally every person in your program. Do it. They're definitely talented, and whether or not you get along, you will learn something from the experience.

9a. Ask your teachers a lot of questions, both in and out of the classroom. Pretty much all of them have had a foot in the door of the industry, and they're going to have great advice.

9b. As an addendum to the above: ask the same question to 10 people, and you will get 10 different answers. You get to pick which one you use.

10. Make friends with people outside the pop program. There's a great big world out there, and you'll lose sight of it if you spend all your time talking about Father John Misty and how underrated the minor five is as a chord.

11. If you've never heard of that album/artist/song, don't pretend that you have. Trust me, whoever you're talking to is gonna notice.

12. Don't be intimidated by the older pop kids. Believe it or not, they were not always the cigarette-smoking, smooth-talking musical geniuses that they are today. Once, they were timid freshmen, as uncertain about their taste in music as they were about their sexual preferences. Make friends with the older kids so you can get out of your dorm every once in a while.

13. Go to pop forum. I swear, the one class you miss will be the one where Linda Perry interviews your friends and makes them cry onstage (and yes, that happened first semester). So even though it's oh-so-easy to skip, you really should go.

14. The performance finals are exactly as much as fun as they look, if not a million times more so. So no matter what time slot you draw, no matter what song Andy gives for your solo, no matter how much you and your band mates fought during the quarter, don't forget to have fun up there--this is what you've been waiting for. And you only get four shots at it freshman year, so don't screw it up. ;)

15. Me and my classmates got Andy guitar picks with our class picture on them. You will not be able to top this gift, but don't forget to show your professors how much you care about them. Freshman year is all about laying foundations; they're putting you on a long road to success.

16. Learn your part for performance class. Your band mates will understand if it's a little rocky at the first rehearsal, but if you're messing up changes or rhythms on Tuesday, it's not gonna be pretty. You've got a week. Learn the part.

17. It's okay to cry onstage. Whether you're rehearsing in TMC Auditorium or doing a run-through at Carson during performance class or hitting the last chord of your last song during the midterm at Ground Zero, you can let tears the roll. You're not a robot, after all.

18. No one has any idea what they're doing for the first couple weeks, so for God's sake, TALK TO EACH OTHER. None of you are going to survive this if you all pretend like everything is fine. Make friends. Go get coffee. Hang out in each other's dorm rooms, eating Mega Stuf Oreos (you're welcome, people who didn't know those existed). Laugh and cry and bond. This business is crazy. You need as many friends as you can get.

19. Go to your friend's shows, even if they're in weird coffee shops off-campus. I get that you won't be able to go to everyone's gigs. But if you don't have anything else to do, get a group together and split an Uber four ways to Alhambra. You have no idea how much it means to the person performing. Plus, going off-campus guarantees non-dining hall food. And how can you turn THAT down?

20. It's okay to feel like you're not enough. But don't worry. You are.

Okay, you're ready now. Enjoy your freshman year. Remember all the things I've told you. Be good. Be safe. And as always, fight on.

April Playlist

April Playlist

As promised, here is my April playlist, live from the last day of classes for spring term!

So freshman year is basically done. I've got some finals the next two weeks, but only just barely. This is strange.

Here are my tunes for this month. Spotify link - https://open.spotify.com/user/12149039602/playlist/3W35KQQvJJUPUNlqiFdyma - and songs under the cut:

1. "Need Somebody to Love" - 6:00
ALBUM: This is My EP
ARTIST: Ady Suleiman

2. "Don't Tell Our Friends About Me" - 5:20
ALBUM: Heigh Ho
ARTIST: Blake Mills

3. "Bloodstyle" - 3:25
ALBUM: Half About Being a Woman
ARTIST: Caroline Smith

4. "Things Are Changin' - Live [Solo Acoustic] - 4:31
ALBUM: The Bright Lights - Australian Tour Edition
ARTIST: Gary Clark Jr.

5. "Better Man" - 4:43
ALBUM: Count Your Blessings
ARTIST: George Ogilvie

6. "Everything To Me" - 3:23
ALBUM: Hand Picked vol 2
ARTIST: Mark Wilkinson

7. "Open Arms" - 3:49
ALBUM: Open Arms
ARTIST: RKCB, Demo Taped

8. "Hometown Hero" - 3:44
ALBUM: The Bearer of Bad News
ARTIST: Andy Shauf

9. "To Be Alone With You" - 2:48
ALBUM: Seven Swans
ARTIST: Sufjan Stevens

10. "Kids These Days" - 3:33
ALBUM: Jillian Jacqueline
ARTIST: Jillian Jacqueline

11. "Angela" - 3:22
ALBUM: Angela
ARTIST: The Lumineers

12. "Love Is Beginning" - 3:43
ALBUM: Sunlight
ARTIST: Imaginary Future

13. "How Can I" - 3:22
ALBUM: Short Movie
ARTIST: Laura Marling

14. "Beach" - 2:56
ALBUM: Proof Enough EP
ARTIST: Will Joseph Cook

15. "Call It Heaven (feat. Esmé Patterson)" - 3:11
ALBUM: And The War Came
ARTIST: Shakey Graves

16. "You Go Down Smooth" - 3:29
ALBUM: Bad Self Portraits
ARTIST: Lake Street Dive

17. "Boys Like You" - 3:15
ALBUM: Boys Like You
ARTIST: Who Is Fancy, Meghan Trainor, Ariana Grande

18. "Someone New" - 4:41
ALBUM: Goddess
ARTIST: Banks

19. "I Had a Real Good Lover" - 6:32
ALBUM: Mouthoil
ARTIST: The Shouting Matches

20. "Mama, You Been On My Mind" - 2:55
ALBUM: The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961-1991
ARTIST: Bob Dylan

Those are the 20 songs I've been bumping this month, plus a good vibes playlist I created I may post here at some point. Freshman year was...I don't want to list adjectives, because they always feel cliche. But rest assured that freshman year was. And yours will be too.

March Playlist

March Playlist

Yo. It's time for this thing. I'm so ready for this semester to be over. Only five weeks to go till summer...

(HELP ME)

In all honesty, I've had a really great first year of college so far, but I'm totally wiped from all this music-learning and rehearsing and paper-writing and socializing with other humans. This whole college thing takes a lot out of you. But I've got my tunes, so that's a plus. Here we go. The Spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/user/12149039602/playlist/3Cva3C17VU4tf1yrfA9tnU and the list of tracks:

1. "In My Life" - 2:26
ALBUM: Rubber Soul
ARTIST: The Beatles

2. "The Heaviest Stars" -3:59
ALBUM: Ford Turrell
ARTIST: Ford Turrell

3. "Pretty Words" - 4:58
ALBUM: Little Sway
ARTIST: Crissi Cochrane

4. "Lover Come Back" - 3:55
ALBUM: If I Should Go Before You
ARTIST: City and Colour

5. "Sleeping in My T-Shirt" - 3:37
ALBUM: Lip Service
ARTIST: Zak Waters

6. "For You" - 3:02
ALBUM: Bitter Pill
ARTIST: Gavin James

7. "Girls Like Me" - 3:15
ALBUM: Girls Like Me
ARTIST: Will Joseph Cook

8. "Hand Covers Bruise" - 4:19
ALBUM: The Social Network
ARTIST: Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

9. "Lift Me Up (feat. Nick Hakim)" - 3:51
ALBUM: Red Balloon
ARTIST: Gizmo

10. "Again" - 2:56
ALBUM: Anything.
ARTIST: Def Sound

11. "Drive" - 3:16
ALBUM: Oh Wonder
ARTIST: Oh Wonder

12. "Museum of Flight" - 2:51
ALBUM: Maraqopa
ARTIST: Damien Jurado

13. "American Beauty" - 2:38
ALBUM: Medicine
ARTIST: Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors

14. "Campus" - 2:56
ALBUM: Vampire Weekend
ARTIST: Vampire Weekend

15. "Lost in My Mind" - 4:19
ALBUM: The Head and the Heart
ARTIST: The Head and the Heart

16. "If the Hudson Overflows" - 3:57
ALBUM: Aerogramme
ARTIST: Goldspot

17. "Good to Sea" - 3:12
ALBUM: Autumn of the Seraphs
ARTIST: Pinback

18. "Anchor" - 4:16
ALBUM: Anchor
ARTIST: Novo Amor

19. "The African Way - Live In New York" - 4:45
ALBUM: The Dusty Food On The Road
ARTIST: K'NAAN

20. "Love And Happiness" - 5:04
ALBUM: Greatest Hits
ARTIST: Al Green

21. "Colors" - 2:40
ALBUM: Amos Lee
ARTIST: Amos Lee

22. "Pain In My Heart" - 2:25
ALBUM: Pain In My Heart
ARTIST: Otis Redding

23. "In The Waiting Line" - 4:32
ALBUM: RECORD
ARTIST: Zero 7

That'll do it for this one. The next playlist I post will probably be my last day of classes, or around then, at least, which boggles the mind. I vividly remember move-in day, my first day of classes, my first pop midterm...all of it. Maybe I'll write a post about this ridiculously busy, seismically shifting year. But maybe when all this finally ends, I'll just lay face down and stop scribbling my thoughts everywhere. We'll see. Talk soon. xo

Very Dark and Very Quiet

I'm writing this because it's 10pm on a Thursday and a friend of mine just got some really awful, awful news. The world seems like a very quiet, very dark place right now.

I spent the last half hour or so just scrolling through my own Facebook profile. I stopped at spring 2014. I felt myself going through the familiar routine of longing for a time gone by. I mythologize my junior year as the pinnacle of my adolescent happiness--still somewhat isolated from my peers, but okay with it; content with my group of friends; happy with my body; doing well in school; succeeding in my extracurriculars. I also look back on it as the time B.G.C., or Before Grammy Camp, when my life was turned upside down in a way that I can't quite explain. To put it vaguely, my life was simpler before I met the people at that magic summer camp. My life is not better or worse now, just a great deal more complicated.

But the truth is, if I really force myself to remember my junior year, I know that it wasn't perfect. There were nights when I was incredibly stressed out by my demanding course load. There were weekends when I felt lonely because I wasn't out on dates or at parties with my classmates. And there were days where I was bored or insecure or mad at my family or unproductive with my writing because that is how the world works. No stretch of time is ever as perfect as we remember it to be.

More to the point, when I was a junior in high school, I looked back on years prior as simpler times, specifically middle school. And it's true, it was simpler. But the biggest truth is that the simplest time of my life was when I was an infant, and it's because I only knew like five people, all of whom were related to me. The more people there are in your life, the more complicated it becomes. This is the hardest lesson I've learned through growing up. The only way to keep things simple is to shut everyone out. But simple is lonely. Even for an introvert who would gladly spend all day holed up in a room with just a piano, a laptop, and a bag of snacks.

Even though I know my obsession with my junior year is dumb, I still find myself wishing I could go back to late 2013 and early 2014. I want to relive those days, when I still lived at home, when I was surrounded by people who I knew so well, albeit people who I didn't always click with. That's another thing about being a freshman in college: even the closest friendships feel so transient. The person I consider my closest friend is someone I met in September. We've only known each other for six months. The friendships I had when I graduated high school were founded on four to six years of meals and movies and sleepovers and study dates. Now what is it? Parties in which I took care of their drunken, stumbling bodies? A few chance deep conversations in their dorm rooms? Some especially productive jam sessions at the music school?

I guess what I'm saying now is that despite how truly incredible the people at my university are, I still feel very disconnected. I can count on one hand the number of times I've formed a real, long-lasting bond with someone on an immediate basis (it's probably only been once). For the most part, my friendships are a slow burn. I haven't completely opened up to anyone I've met at college. There are certain parts of myself that I don't trust with other people. I don't know how to change that. Maybe it's best that I don't.

This post doesn't have a thesis statement or even a point. But it's 10pm, and I am writing, because the world is very dark, and very quiet.

Talk soon. xo