How Music Has Changed Quarantine

I’ve always loved being alone. There’s something incredibly comforting about solitude, and it is in isolation that I find myself at my most introspective, genuine, and relaxed. After the past three weeks though, I cannot stand it.

In our normal, non-quarantined lives, each day consists of the decisions we make within it; each day is defined and remembered by with whom we go to lunch, which extracurricular activity we decide to go to after school, and what time we go to bed. Now though this series of decisions has been replaced with the monotony of quarantine, where the scope of our choices is limited to what cereal we eat in the morning and which Netflix show we watch in the afternoon; both the number of decisions and the consequences of those decisions are reduced in this new way of living.

This has led a lot of people, myself included, struggling to find variation in our daily routines. The transition from the chaos of normal life to the lack thereof in social isolation is a rather jarring one, and one that can take a heavy emotional toll.

Music has helped me through this. Listening to different albums, artists, playlists, etc. has dampened the homogeneity of life from six feet apart by setting different moods and atmospheres throughout the day. Listening to Bill Withers’s “Just As I Am” following the announcement of his death set the tone for a soulful, relaxed time. Jaden Smith’s “ERYS” evoked nostalgia and a yearning for summer during an otherwise uneventful Thursday. Kanye West’s “Graduation” made a drab Tuesday into an uplifting, exciting moment.

The effect music collections have had on my time in quarantine extends beyond the mood of the music itself; they have helped me reminisce about times past with which I associate certain albums. The Lumineers’ “Cleopatra” brings back vivid memories of my first summer at camp. Lil Peep’s “Hellboy” evokes feelings of a cool autumn breeze and the looming stress of school. Memories of late-night debate tournament preparations are brought back by Chet Baker’s eponymous album, “Chet Baker Sings.” These albums have all had such a profound role in my life, serving as my personal soundtrack through emotional and chaotic times. Listening to them again now has been enormously enjoyable in returning to memories from better times before “flattening the curve” was a common phrase.

Music has also served as a great pastime and hobby in quarantine. Making playlists and meticulously curating my Apple Music profile has become a favorite social distancing activity of mine. Exploring new artists’ catalogs or more deeply exploring those of my current favorites has consumed much of my time in quarantine and has kept me motivated and engaged.

I’ve always thought of music as something that is enjoyed best in high-intensity, high-emotion, and high-impact times. This makes sense—the profundity of the most beautiful parts of music are most effectively personalized when you can relate to the strong, intense emotions conveyed through music. But this is not true. Many of my strongest and most special connections to certain albums stem from times of tedium and ennui, as it is my uninteresting environment that allows me to most deliberately and pointedly explore music. And any opportunity to build more meaningful relationships with music is one I am happy to have, especially if it makes my isolation just a little more bearable.