This One is About Music

Dear Future Husband…

There is one crucial thing you must know about me, and that is my inherent love for music. There is something magical about music. There’s something about really good music that transcends explanation, that transcends understanding. I think it has to do with the poetry or what other people call lyrics (ririks), the melody, accompanied with the emotion.

It’s the beauty in Etta James’ voice, the timelessness of Frank Sinatra, Bill Withers, Billy Joel, and Dean Martin. It’s the lyrics that Bob Marley sang with conviction calling for unity. It’s the emotion you feel when you hear Lauren Hill’s voice.

It is the depth in Lupe Fiasco’s and J-Cole’s poetry. It is the smile you have and the joy you feel when you hear Kirk Franklin speak-sing about welcoming you back to life. It is the word play in Lecrae’s music. There’s a particular line in I’ll Find You (with Tori Kelly) that has stayed with me and become my mantra. It goes: They say don’t get bitter get better. I’m working on switching them letters. This song is one my sister and I listened to on repeat during her cancer fight.

It is the magic in Pompi’s music. The kind that makes you smile when you hear ‘raaaaats‘. You may not understand some of what he sings but you feel it deep. Oh, do you feel it. And you resonate with words in a language you can’t speak.

It is in Adele’s lyrics that somehow explain the depth of emotion you felt when your crush threw sand on your head during the class trip to the beach, when you were 10. It is the healing in Jonathan McReynolds music. The soulfulness of Emeli Sande. The genius producing of Mag44, the breath control of Tim Rapper.

I could go on and on but the point is, I love music. Good music in particular is a relaxing massage for the mind after a tired day. It’s the company keeps you sane in a packed and hot taxi stuck in a traffic jam that was designed from the pits of hell. Good music is the one that holds you and let’s you cry when you feel the heaviness of the world. Good music is a comfort.

Even the philosophers agree. Even the stuffiest of men will be mellowed out by Music. Music is magic. Music brought colour to this world.

So it might come as no surprise that it hurts my ears when I hear something that someone claims to be music. Mumble rappers, trap music and some form of rap that doesn’t follow the beat, that is not music. That is just fingernails scratching a blackboard. It is a travesty. A tragedy to those that came before. And an assault on ears.

Dear future husband, I pray for you, your heart, your character, our children, that you find the kind of joy and pleasure that I find in words, that you love to read. I pray for your future, our future. I also pray fervently that you have great taste in music, that your taste in music doesn’t include trap music and mumble rappers. Forever is a long time for me to be mocking you about that atrocious music should you listen to that…

Love God. Love Music. Love Reading. Love Me. We will be golden.

With Love
Your Future Wife

Where words fail, music speaks. – Hans Christian Andersen