In the movie Grease, Sandy unexpectedly encounters Danny, her summer romance, at a fall football game. Instead of rekindling their deep connection, Danny morphs into an obnoxious, insecure stranger. Sandy is left hurt and disillusioned that their genuine relationship from the summer diminishes within seconds so he can maintain his dignity in front of his friends. 

I experienced a similar scenario with my ex-boyfriend, Clayton. We were in Clayton's friend's basement—the basement of a suburban home stuck in 1980. Wood paneled every wall, and a musty smell suffused the room. Clayton and I sat on the brown leather couch together, but he was hunched over the edge. Our friends accommodated the other seats in the sitting area. We surrounded the coffee table with cards and drinks sprawled all over it, ready to start a game. The guys didn’t give us girls cards, so we watched. Quickly, the boys got rowdy and competitive. They were on edge. Clayton stood right before me, blocking my view of the game. I tapped Clayton's shoulder to tell him to move. He didn’t turn around. I tapped again, but he didn’t respond.

“Clayton, can you scoot over? I can't see.” I asked.

He suddenly jumped up and hollered, “Let's go! We're winning boys!” They all high-fived each other. I still sat behind him as if on the sidelines of a baseball game. I wasn't having fun, but I played along to the fun others were having. The rest of the night and into the future, he continued to dismiss my comments and ignore my presence around his friends. His fear of what his friends thought of him obstructed the energy between us we once cherished. He threw his integrity out the window as his personality changed to a duplicate of his rowdy, immature friends’, instead of respecting me like he did when we were alone. So our authentic relationship then diminished, too. Since then, I’ve noticed more ways authenticity has faded to social conformity, steering people away from their integrity and individuality. 

Listening to music is one of the most important sources of relief in my life. I go to music to feel through my feelings. Whether I am in a good mood and want to add to the happiness or feel sad and need music to alleviate my numbness, music enables me to think through my emotions and regain composure. My biggest supporter and friend is music. 

My dad introduced me to music from his generation when I was old enough to distinguish the music’s impact. I felt taken by the music to different places as my mind escaped my anxious body. Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon would play from my dad’s cassette tapes, and my mind transported me to an alternate reality. I could feel the music’s heavy rhythm and movement rush through my body. The layered sounds sparked euphoria and empowerment, like a thrilling drug. In my mind, I felt secure but also emotional, where I could drain out my bottled-up sensations. Pink Floyd’s music touched my vulnerable side and let my emotions pour out. 

Bob Seger would come on, and my mind traveled to a Palm Springs Oasis of everlasting ecstasy. My dreams and fantasies for the future ran wild in my imagination and showered me with excitement for life. These moments in my headspace became vital because they belonged to me. I didn’t feel out of place like I had in real life. I often felt insecure being myself and expressing my genuine thoughts and feelings when others weren’t. So I interpreted lyrics that touched my emotions to relate and connect. From then on, I made a solid connection to the artists. I saw that these artists shared their genuine feelings with me, which I struggled to do and receive from people in my life, like my ex-boyfriend. The significant relation I made to music connected me to society. 

One Christmas, my dad bought our family a Spotify account. This music app allowed me to explore various kinds of music. Little did I know this would change my life. I found more Pink Floyd songs; I discovered David Bowie, Lou Reed, Fleetwood Mac, and many other old bands and artists. I so indulged in old music that I noticed a shift in music between my dad’s generation and newer music. Modern music sounded artificial, deepening my disillusionment with the ingenuity in society. It wasn't just people who could lack authenticity, but music too. The question of why I found a shift in music prompted me to explore the lost originality in music today.

In the past, artists made music to express their true passions for the listeners to broaden their social awareness, relate, and resonate from. Musicians expressed these matters and feelings with sophisticated and poetic lyrics. For example, John Lennon used his platform to address pressing social issues. He infused lyrics with poetry and information that made people think instead of spewing out effortless words that people would interpret similarly. David Bowie wrote his song ‘Five Years" on climate change, uniting society and encouraging action. Songs highlighting essential themes have recently changed to sexualized lyrics regarding shallow lust, partying, and materialism. Many songs repeat the same ideas and catchy sounds due to the commercialization of the music industry. Pressure to make money in the industry causes a prioritization of commercial success over artistic depth and connection with listeners. This pressure leads to surface-level lyrics and compositions for market appeal. I've seen this through the radio, social media, and music apps. Mainstream rap and pop music are advertised nonstop in pop-up ads to gain more attention, like on TikTok. Plus, with today's fast-paced technology, shorter attention spans cling to easily digestible music where songs sound and last the same. Marketing to popularize songs and albums discourages artists from exploring complex themes in their work more than in the past. The commercialized music industry disassociates my generation from the purpose of music—to be a crucial tool for connecting people and enhancing our understanding of one another. But now, without sincerity in music, people may be unable to connect. Like what happened in my relationship when it became insincere, being raw has faded away in music. 

Not all music today lacks depth, as many artists still create meaningful and thought-provoking works. Many people resonate with the music made today because it fits their taste, and taste in music can change throughout generations. However, today's mainstream rap and pop music may only resonate with people my age because they have yet to branch out to more. With the commercialization interfering with the music people are exposed to, it unlocks the current trajectory to stifle depth in music as well. This compromises music’s ability to nurture deep meaning and connection, adding to a disconnected society.