THE MEANING OF MUSIC

BRYCE PARR

Photos by Jackson Rudquist

PEPPER MAGAZINE I can’t speak for everybody’s subjective musical experience, but I can say this: My life without music would be madness.

Music is unique. It is an artistic expression conveyed entirely through sound. Words or not, there’s emotion in every note, chord, and melody. Culturally, music accompanies almost every facet of life. We use it in faith and worship. We use it to get excited. We use it seriously, and we use it with humor. Shit, some cultures even use it as a timer when preparing medicines and foods. Everyone experiences music, but everyone assigns it a different meaning.

Music offered me a refuge from the somber difficulties of life. In high school, I wandered the halls with a pair of worn red and black headphones held together by a thin band of electrical tape. During work time, during lunch, or during study hall, I would drown out the mundane public-school nonsense with whatever angsty overdriven tunes I was into that week. I would daydream of being on stage; strapped into a sunburst Les Paul electric guitar to share something I created. My guitar skills did improve, and I soon found myself playing bass with Dissonant Mind. Collaborating to create something uniquely ours was humbling. We disagreed sometimes. We would argue and debate, but that only served to mold us and teach us more.

Music shares comparisons with reality. Sometimes it can be absurd and appear to have no meaning. Other times it can be structured and move an individual to tears. I’ve gained an appreciation for other genres on my own musical journey. Especially in the Menomonie music community. I grew up a punk. I spent

BRYCE PARR my nights partying in Eau Claire, attending house shows, sneaking into bars for rock shows, and passing out on the couches of many strangers’ homes. Almost every person I spent time with was either a musician or involved in the art scene.

It wasn’t until I attended UW-Stout that I was exposed to other scenes: academics, jazz musicians, rappers, DJs, Greeks, geeks, and freaks like me. Everyone has an identity they latch onto and with it comes a distinct sound. I found myself spending time with the poets and folk players at the Raw Deal, with the electronic composers orbiting The Abbey, and of course, in the sweaty My edges have smoothed out. It took me a while to truly realize everybody gets something of their own from the sounds they are drawn to. Whether they like to jump around and sing with their friends, share their experiences over a comfortable acoustic harmony, or take a split from reality on some enlightening substance in a basement to the dissonant tunes of an angsty group of ampheads, everyone finds their own meaning in the sound.

Trying to define the meaning of music is reductive. It simply can’t be done.

PEPPER MAGAZINE

Photos by Nik Zanter