How do you measure a year? The number of classes you took? Ratio of football games we won? Amount of flex points you dropped at Starbucks? Number of pictures you got tagged in on Facebook? Love?
As the first year of my Notre Dame experience comes to a close, I've found a far more telling way to measure this year. I can trace all sorts of experiences, ups and downs, revelations and shortcomings by looking back at the music that has been a part of my year. The music I have discovered, shared or been obsessed with says a lot about my life.
The first song of note that entered into my life would be "Cyclone" by Baby Bash. I do not like hip-hop. I am not particularly fond of the song. But when two of the girls in my newly-furnished quad realized they both knew the song, it became our official anthem. I heard it every day for the first two weeks of the fall semester. I still can't stand it, but it has a very strong image tied to it of four girls from four corners of the country getting to know each other and learning how to work out living away from home. It represents a time of change, a little fear, and a lot of hope.
Getting settled into my new life of freedom was daunting at first. I clung to certain songs for familiarity and comfort. One song in particular that helped me was "Different Names for the Same Thing" by Deathcab for Cutie. I vividly remember riding my bike around the lake at top speed, racing over the leaves and listening to that song, trying to gain what little wisdom it could afford, because nothing at college was makings sense.
In the fall, I decided to join the World Music class for its field trip to the Chicago music festival. On Navy Pier, a Czech woman named Lenka Dusilova played the song "Litaci." It is a beautiful dream-pop tune, and even though I have no idea what the words mean, the song is calming and served to remind me that college was going to be a challenge, but that I could handle it. Things were gonna be all right.
The spring semester began with a whirlwind of music, most notably "Falling Slowly," from the film "Once." The song is heartbreakingly beautiful, and its performance at the Oscars made me cry. When I think of that song, it brings me back to my section lounge, sighing with the other girls at how simple and yet moving music can be.
The dead of winter was hard for me, a Coloradoan, used to 300 days of sunshine a year. The lovely perma-cloud that descended upon campus sent me into deep doldrums. The song "Breathe Me" by SiA, which I bumped into when it was used in a presentation by the PostSecret guy, became my refuge. I listened to that song every morning on my way to class for about three weeks during Lent.
Spring break came along, and my friend burned me a number of discs of music to listen to on the plane ride home. The five-disc set opened with "This Year" by the Mountain Goats. This is a song worth checking out. The one line that pounded in my head the entire flight was, "I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me."
The arrival of spring brought about the opera and the final trio from "Faust" by Gounod. This is the song that struck me to the core whenever I heard it. All good things about being in the opera are tied to that song.
And now, where are my musical tastes? Firmly planted in "Can't Go Back Now" by the weepies. This song of moving on and finding a way to survive on your own perfectly describes freshman year: "Go where you want to go. Be who you want to be...In the end the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself." I have survived. I didn't die, fall off the Dome, fail out of class or lose my room key. I've signed up for classes next semester, bonded with my future roomy, and picked a major. Looks like the music's gonna keep on coming.
The views expressed in Scene and Heard are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
Contact Stephanie DePrez at
sdeprez@nd.edu
