The Joy In Music

I know. A very generic title. But there's an important principle to be learned from this blog.
More than anyone else I know, I get caught up in what goes through my earphones. I recently made commentary that I'm happier when I'm less incorporated with media. I am guilty of always getting caught up in comparing modern music acts, which leads me to being very judgmental and making lots of songs and albums lists. It's a waste of mental time. But it's also kinda fun.
I recently purchased The Avalanches' Since I Left You. This past week I've been thinking "Why didn't I buy this a long time ago?" I've been listening to the entire album via internet theft for the last 2 years. The track "Since I Left You" has been a favorite since I first heard it in spring 2009. The song (and eventually the whole album) is something I've used to make me happy. It samples drops of pure nostalgic joy into one, quite modern dance record. Listening to this album daily from my home stereo has kind of become an instant, dance-able, paradisaical experience (especially on a sunny day). The thought has occurred: Why don't I just listen to music that makes me happy all the time?   

I was about 19 when I realized all the music I've been getting into was freaking depressing. I liked it all, but I actually would listen to lyrics closer and noticed that all these weird bands just have freaking depressing messages. I kinda just rolled with it. So the majority of good music is really sad and self-inflicting. So what?
Between the last two paragraphs, consider this quote from music critic Carl Wilson:

"How we interact with art is a microcosm of the way we interact with the world."

So why can't I listen to happy music all the time? That's not real life. Do I still listen to lots of negative music? If it sounds cool, I listen to it. So yes... yes I do...
HOWEVER....
Getting wrapped into some songwriter's personal emotions is risky business. Oddly enough, it does help you associate with the emotional complexes of the people in your life, or at least helps you listen. Just remember the songwriter isn't always you. You can't be every songwriter in the world. Which kinda sucks, but it's for the better in the long run.
I went through distracting amounts of clinical stress disorders throughout 2010, 2011 and 2012. I cite the catalyst of my problems to my mindset during fall 2009 semester at CSI. I bought a lot of great music during that time, but I was always thinking negatively about myself. So going back to music I listened to then has a history of triggering some self-consciousness. As my life continues, I revisit this music and it's defected me less and less.
Most recently erased from my "depression/anxiety" playlist is Built to Spill's Perfect From Now On. For the longest time, I've heard the first note of that album and I go into this dark place. It wasn't until recently when I listened to the album solely for its sonic qualities and cool guitar tones. Listening to it now, it's just as listenable as the rest of their work. "Velvet Waltz" used to be my favorite track because of its grandiose, melodramatic approach to topics so internally distressing yet so small to the outside world. Now I recognize and appreciate its layered guitars tones, all atmospheric, beautiful and crunchy. Still my favorite track, btw. Despite its personal, anxious lyrics, I've recognized Perfect From Now On is something cool and also kinda fun.

Something I constantly learn is to actually remember what you've learned. I listen to a lot of sad music, but I'm always finding ways to discover the joy in it. Nihilism tests that we are nothing and we came from nothing. Not knocking nihilists out there, I'm just saying that the original theory of music/songwriting, is far from it. A quote from the Flaming Lips' Wayne Coyne:

"You can't just write a song because you're sad. You can't just do it because something happened to you. Someone is invested; this is their song... about their life and their identity."

...and that's SOMETHING.