I love Rock. I have for the majority of my life. I listen to it when I walk to class, when I drive, when I do various chores around the house, I even listen to it when I am writing. Ever since I first heard my first song from that genre, I fell in love, but it wasn’t always like that. Back before my age was even in the double digits, I knew nothing of the wondrous music genre that was Rock.
Growing up in a “soulful” household, my choice of music was…rather limited to say the least. Sure, there wasn’t a ban on any type of music in our household, but, I wasn’t exposed to any other type of music other than what my mom and dad would listen to on the radio, which was Soul and Jazz. All I had to listen to while growing up was Jazz, Soul, and a CD of Broadway’s Lion King soundtrack and, for a time, I was fine with that, but as I grew older, I began to crave something…different.
Jazz was far too clean and smooth for my taste and Soul was too bright and peppy and, while these are good genres, I wanted something that could get my blood pumping. Like a roller coaster, without the mind-numbing fear of being hurled around at 100 miles per hour. It wasn’t until I was ten when I found the sound I had craved.
Surprisingly enough, my love of Rock started with YouTube. Like many preteens, I used the popular website to watch gaming playthroughs and Minecraft gameplay. Imagine my surprise when, while looking up a playthrough, I saw something called an AMV. Seeing as it was about the game I was searching for, I clicked the tab.
At first, I didn’t know what I was watching. It was just a series of clips from various points of the game. I thought that it was just a montage of “epic” moments from the game, and I was about to close the video when I heard a loud and deep blast of sound. I remember that it sounded like a trombone, which is why I stopped. I was confused if not a bit intrigued, but above all, I was stunned, so much so, that I almost didn’t notice that the dark strings and presiding lyrics, but I definitely heard the chorus.
Heavy and intense instrumental background shook me to my very core. My heart was pounding. It felt like I had been injected with a shot of adrenaline. I was taken aback, frozen to me seat as the music continued to play. The heavy yet fast drum beats, the loud yet not overly bright rhythm, it was what I was missing for so long. I had found my music.
That song, “Thanks for the Memories” by Fall out Boy, started my love for the Rock genre. It had the rapid pace and powerful rhythmic and volumetric inflections. It felt like I had fallen in love, or at least I assume that that’s what falling in love felt like. I listened to more of Fall out Boy, later branching out to bands like Thousand Foot Krutch, Three Days Grace, Skillet, and Shinedown and later bands like Avenged Sevenfold, Five Finger Death Punch, and Disturbed, groups that my dad claimed to make “devil music”, but I didn’t care.
For me, it’s the rhythm that I care about. I love the heart pumping beats and inflections that come with Rock and Metal. I could care less about most lyrics, which is why I can listen to explicit lyrics and not care. As long as it has a good beat, I’ll listen to it.
Rock has become a part of my daily life. I periodically wonder what my life would be like had I not discovered Rock music. What my life would be like if I had only my Lion King CD and my parent’s music to listen to, but every time I think back to the days where I would listen to my parents blasting Jazz music throughout the house, I can’t help but feel grateful that I had found Rock for myself.