There are few questions I hate being asked more than what my music taste is. I usually stammer out a response that sounds like I’m not entirely sure what music is.
Then I was asked to write a column about what type of music I listen to, so it’s time to face my fears. World, you don’t have to keep asking: here’s your answer to what my music taste is, as best I can explain it.
There are some places in the world I feel completely at peace. Curiously enough, the road outside my neighborhood is one such place.
It’s a long, curvy road fringed in towering pine trees, which eventually peter out into pear trees lining a sprawling horse farm. When I drive down the road, I always carefully select the song playing because I don’t want to waste it.
I like music that feels like it’s meant to be played while driving down that road. That means different things on different days. There are songs for spring days, when the window is down and the wind is rustling my hair and the flowers from the pear trees are swirling around my car, songs for winter at dusk when the pines are just sticks scratching the gray clouds, songs for the early morning when the sunlight slants through the branches and turns the word golden and songs for everything in between.