All of the Songs You Hear Don’t Know They Have a Purpose

Music and college seem intrinsically linked. I know so many kids who have discovered everyone from John Coltrane to R.E.M. to Henryk Gorecki during their tenure at an institution of higher learning. Unlike most freshmen, by the time I arrived at Columbia in August of 1998, I was already well versed in the realm of indie rock. It might have been the only topic where I was truly ahead of the learning curve.

I’ve discovered friends, boys I’ve dated, and redeeming aspects of enemies through a common love of an indie band on some obscure label. Shows became my social space of choice, mix tapes become the ultimate expression of caring. I’ve been overjoyed with friends to the sounds of Beulah (only the first record!) and contemplated why life sucks so damn much to the dramatic screaming of Fugazi and Cursive.

The New York music scene was a big reason I wanted to go to school in NYC in the first place. And throughout my time in New York, music played a really important role. During the times that I was most unhappy, I seldom listened to it. During the times when I was happiest, I felt like I was discovering a new, amazing band every week. Music has formed a sprawling soundtrack to my life.

Considering how many stories I have told in this booklet, it’s kinda amazing how little I’ve written about music. It might be because I write about music all the time for other publications or because I have a hard time doing the music I love justice in the form of the written word.

Whatever it is, the following four stories are examples of the way that music and experience are thoroughly intertwined in my life. Each story is about one of my favorite New York City bands, but it is also about more than that. It is about music as a comfort, as a bond, as a distraction, as a meeting place, and as a source of heartbreak. Or to steal a line from Jeff Tweedy:

“Music is my savior/I was maimed by rock and roll.”