No Guilty Pleasures. Not Once Ever. 

No shame, baby.

To me, music as an identity is a funny thing. Especially so in this age of tech with apps like Spotify and newcomer Soundwave making just the simple act of listening to tunes a very social experience.

I grew up in what was a fertile punk/hardcore scene in eastern Massachusetts in the mid/early 2000's. Unquestionably, that shaped a lot of my taste in music, style, and all that other material bullshit that comes along with discovering yourself as a teenager. As it goes, this was the norm for a lot of people my age at the time. Which bands you were listening to, which shows you were headed to - your featured streaming song on MYSPACE (yikes I’m cringing just thinking about it)- all of these things were elements of a social profile that I feel a lot of young people, myself especially, felt obligated to uphold and maintain. These things really mattered in the context of who you were as a person. In a lot of ways, I think they still do for many people.

Somewhere in my early 20's all that came to a screeching halt. I just stopped caring. I have to say, it feels phenomenal.

The lesson I’ve learned is that literally no one other person’s opinion of what you listen to matters. Not once even ever a little bit. Obliterating social norms and stereotypes about these sorts of things feels wonderful.

I’m a burly, tattooed, oft-bearded 26 year old man. And I was a big fan of Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen when it came out. Without even the slightest hint of irony in there whatsoever.

I have been called “the biggest Billy Joel fan ever” by some close friends. I won’t claim that title, but to borrow a line from Office Space, I certainly celebrate the man’s entire catalogue.

It’s easy to get caught up in the internet hate train about whatever band of the week it is - Nickleback, Creed, whatever. If you like it - you like it. Share those playlists and let the whole world know you don’t mind jamming to T-Swift. Or whoever.

And just as a side-note, if that band you love ends up hitting major airwaves and injecting an influx of new fans - celebrate it, don’t mourn it. Being a musician is hard. Real hard. Like, endless dumping of money and sleeping in a cramped van in tough weather conditions hard. If your favorite “underground” band makes it, there’s nothing cool about being the one going around telling everyone how into them you were first. I really wish I could go back in time and tell 18-year-old-me that. I likely would have saved myself quite a few moments of looking like a pretentious jerk.

In my opinion, there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure. Not in music, and probably not anywhere else in life either.

And to put my money where my mouth is, I made a playlist just for anyone (if anyone!) who reads this. For Medium, With Love