So, this isn’t one of my usual reviews. I promise I have a good excuse, though – the past few months have been (mentally and emotionally) turbulent, chaotic, and pretty much all-around terrible. I tend to refer to these first three months of the year as the “Dark Days”, and 2017 has not been any kinder than previous years. There’s been a lot of personal stuff happening that’s thrown my life around and beaten me up, but on the days when I can’t bring myself to get out of bed, I turn to this blog.
It sounds cheesy, I know – but the truth is that this music is the one thing that’s kept me going. It’s been my way of feeling productive, when I write about an album or send emails to publicists. It’s grounded me, providing connections with other people through shared love of a certain band or through interviews. I’ve gotten to meet some incredible people, talked with them about music and feminism and gender (still more talk about this elusive project I’ve been working on…). My amazing older brother and I talk nearly every day about songs, local bands, or his radio show; it provides us with an excuse to talk and check in on each other while he’s away at college.
Lately, I’ve struggled with any sort of connection, so even the small things are valuable. Getting a message from a high school band, excited about my EP review, for example – some days, it’s reassuring to know that there are real people out there reading what I write. It’s simple connections, like my brother sending me a short clip of his music for feedback, that remind me that I’m not going through life alone, and that is one of the beautiful things about the music scene. I’ve made remarkable personal connections, and the friends I’ve made through albums and shows are some of my favorite people.
Especially on days when I struggle to face the realities of life, the Columbus music scene comes to my rescue: whether through new discoveries or shows, I find a way to escape. And yes, this is what I love so much about live shows – the ability to disappear into the music, feeling alive with the rest of the crowd and knowing that you’re sharing this incredible emotional and musical experience that’ll never be replicated, existing purely in the moment and forgetting about everything that sucks about life.
It gets exhausting to try to be put-together all the time, but even if I’m covering or working a show, I get to let loose and be myself. I get to do something for myself – because that’s what DIY music is all about, right? It’s that attitude of “we’re doing this by ourselves, for ourselves”, and I’ve found that 99.9% of the musicians I’ve met have been incredibly welcoming and supportive, and no matter how I’m feeling, getting to meet these people always helps.
So I guess this is my way of saying thank you to the scene. Thank you for providing an outlet for me, even though I’m not a performer. Thank you for putting my feelings into words, for making me realize that someone understands. Thank you for helping me escape for a little while, while simultaneously feeling productive. Thank you for doing what you do for so many others: making me feel alive.
Columbus musicians (and others), I love you. Keep on doing what you do best, and please, never stop creating.