I believe in music. I believe in the overwhelming power it can wield over the way we look at the world around us, and I believe in its ability to reinforce the deeply human underlying connection between the people of the world.

I do not believe in one specific type of music. A traditional Nigerian lullaby can have as much of an impact on one person’s life as a Norwegian death metal song can have on another’s. Everyone, even if they wouldn’t call themselves avid music fans, has that one tune that makes them smile when life is awful (“Journey of the Featherless” by Cloud Cult). They have a song to wallow in self-pity to (“Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths). They know a ditty that makes them want to slide around the house in their socks (Al Green’s “I Want to Hold Your Hand” cover). And they know the music to close their eyes and get lost in the beauty to (Bach’s cello suites). They know at least one song for every emotion, one song to make their world a little brighter, one song that reminds them of someone they love.

It’s a primal instinct in human beings to make and listen to music. The earliest humans beating their drums in rhythm with the flicker of fire were doing so out of the urge to be part of something, to satisfy their basic need for human connection and communication. We all have an impulse to move to music, whether it be leaping around on a stage or tapping your toes discreetly – my head sways back and forth even when I don’t think I’m paying attention to music. And when one person does it, everyone itches to join. When someone puts on a record at a party, they are setting the mood of everyone in the room. This is because music is one of the great connectors. Like laughter, tears, and art, music is something that crosses every cultural line. It brings us together as one, and binds us as a grand audience; I believe in music.