the music never dies

 Image courtesy of

Image courtesy of

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been through some shit.

*Every reader puts a hand in the air*


Okay, good. Now, that we have that covered, I would also like you to put that hand in the air if you’ve ever felt a deeper connection to music than you could ever articulate into words.



I thought so.

Two weeks ago, I attended one of my old high school friend’s funerals. We had lost touch throughout the years, and I didn’t really imagine I would take the service as hard as I did. Death is weird, man. Every time I’m around it, I become so uncomfortable, it’s almost as if it’s headed straight for me next. Throughout the service, the well-spoken pastor hit on all cylinders.


“When one’s life ends, we tend to take the time to evaluate our own lives and our own place in the world.”


He couldn’t have been more correct. Ever since receiving the news, I’ve thought about Matt, quickly followed by my own life. Why am I here? What is my purpose? Am I living a full life? Am I loving enough? Will I leave a lasting legacy? Am I just going through the motions? These questions or some form of them have spun in my head ever since I received the news of my friend’s passing, and I don’t see them ever leaving.

Throughout this whole situation, one thing has remained constant, and that, my friends, is music. Since death has shown its ugly face, music has somehow become an even more integral aspect of my life. I’m not sure how, since my existence would be severely hindered and/or non-existent without its magic, but it has.

My favorite thing in the entire world has become that much more important and necessary for my survival. It’s pretty crazy when I write it out like that. Death forced me to look my own life right in the eyes. It forced me to re-evaluate and understand that we do not have that long on this earth, or in this life at all.


When I listen to the music, all the pain stops.


Put on a record, throw on my headphones, walk around town with music blaring — whichever way I listen, the music always hits me in a way that is almost too difficult to put into words.

I’m writing this mainly because I wanted to share the importance of music and see who else out there connects with it on a spiritual level. Recently, my family signed up for the Spotify family account and now my parents are all in on the streaming game. My dad sends me Ted Nugent songs, while my mom creates massive playlists of all her favorite tunes throughout her lifetime.

It’s pretty awesome to see, and it’s even greater to teach them the technology and demonstrate just how powerful these tools can be. It was a pain in my ass at first, but when I realized its importance, everything else fell into place.

I had helped my parents re-discover music from their past, and nothing could have made me feel any better. I can only imagine the memories I’ll never know, the ones that exist purely within the confines of their brains, for their consumption onlyand that is the way it should be. Music is personal like that.

Past flings, old failures, good times with friends and family, your first beer, your first kiss, summer nights, less responsibility, nights out on the town, having your first child, vacations, rough times, fall days — I could go on forever about the memories that it encapsulates and invokes, but I believe that so many of us connect on this notion, I don’t need to say much else.

When death comes knocking at the front door, music is there to help make sense of it all, or, just to lend a helping hand. It sings words we are often unable to say aloud and its immortality rings true throughout the history of time. Great music never dies and it never will. Let’s be sure we keep it that way.