The recent departure of Zayn Malik from One Direction has prompted many tears and cries of “whhhhhhhhhhhy?” from some of the tweenage girls in my acquaintance. Like many, I had to fight my initial impulse to roll my eyes and dismiss their heartbreak for a silly band that most people over the age of 18 probably don’t have much regard for. However, throughout the drama, it forced me to examine my own music history, particularly the music I listened to when I was a wee lass of 12. Excuse me while I hum a few bars of “The Sign” and sing about a boy “who got into an accident and couldn’t go to school”.
This of course sent me down a nostalgia spiral of examining all of the songs and artists I listened to in Middle School and High School that I’m sure drove my parents to find any excuse to leave the house. I’m looking at you Britney, and you Justin Timberlake while you were still just one of five sexually nonthreatening boys in N’Sync. There were many fine afternoons spent sitting in my room with my girlfriends belting out some Jagged Little Pill or Little Earthquakes. And school dances with Ska music blasting while we all skanked enthusiastically in a circle. Could I even begin to try and explain this to today’s generation? The one time I tried, I learned “Skank” has taken on a very different meaning.
The music we listen to in our teenage years is sacred. I couldn’t even tell you today how much of it is “good” music because it is so deeply tied to memories from my formative years. I can no more judge these girls their One Direction than I would want to be judge for the elaborate dance we came up with to “I Want it That Way”. No video exists of this dance, so don’t even try and find it. It’s an expression of our budding independence and of course, angst. The idea that no one could understand us, but this band, this artist, touches a chord in me. It might be One Direction. Maybe it was The Beatles, or The Who. Nirvana. Prince. Elvis. Why we love the music we love is not something we should ever have to justify or explain. So the next time you hear a shrieking girl exclaiming over Justin Bieber, resist the automatic snort of disgust and instead, think back to who your Bieber was and send a little love.
This of course sent me down a nostalgia spiral of examining all of the songs and artists I listened to in Middle School and High School that I’m sure drove my parents to find any excuse to leave the house. I’m looking at you Britney, and you Justin Timberlake while you were still just one of five sexually nonthreatening boys in N’Sync. There were many fine afternoons spent sitting in my room with my girlfriends belting out some Jagged Little Pill or Little Earthquakes. And school dances with Ska music blasting while we all skanked enthusiastically in a circle. Could I even begin to try and explain this to today’s generation? The one time I tried, I learned “Skank” has taken on a very different meaning.
The music we listen to in our teenage years is sacred. I couldn’t even tell you today how much of it is “good” music because it is so deeply tied to memories from my formative years. I can no more judge these girls their One Direction than I would want to be judge for the elaborate dance we came up with to “I Want it That Way”. No video exists of this dance, so don’t even try and find it. It’s an expression of our budding independence and of course, angst. The idea that no one could understand us, but this band, this artist, touches a chord in me. It might be One Direction. Maybe it was The Beatles, or The Who. Nirvana. Prince. Elvis. Why we love the music we love is not something we should ever have to justify or explain. So the next time you hear a shrieking girl exclaiming over Justin Bieber, resist the automatic snort of disgust and instead, think back to who your Bieber was and send a little love.
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