Since I was young, my family often said I had "no musical talent." Every holiday, my dad would turn on the sound system (also to wake me up), but I only found it noisy, often turning the volume down or even off. During various cultural events, if there was no narrative in the musical performances, I always felt they were unnecessary. I could never understand how some people could listen to music while thinking, such as when coding; any sound would distract my attention, and I preferred pure noise-cancellation. Perhaps I am particularly sensitive to sound, and I once joked that I was born without a connection to music.
Until March 5, 2019, when somehow the topic of "what reasons can make someone like a song" came up in class, I realized that there were already hundreds of songs in my playlist. It was the second semester of my junior year, the third year since I got my first phone, and the fifth year since I had my first Sony MP3 player. I discovered that I actually had music I liked.
This realization made me start to trace back the roots. "Liking something often has no reason, just like liking a person." Initially, I thought so too, but later, during my leisure time, I pondered and found that I could still come up with some reasons. So, I carefully looked at the songs in my playlist and sorted out my preferences:
- Almost no Mandarin pop music. Every time I went to KTV with friends, I couldn't get excited, had little interest in Mandarin songs, and never understood why some people were obsessed with concerts or how they fell in love with these songs.
- Most were OP/ED from animations and dramas, as well as BGM from games.
- Recently, there were also works from singers or groups I got to know at concerts and music festivals, along with songs shared by friends.
Thinking of this, I vaguely understood that music appreciation is a learned ability, not something innate. More importantly, liking a song is often closely related to my personal experiences and emotional connections, rather than simply because it is "pleasant to hear."
Firstly, experience determines my musical preferences. For example, someone who has studied music theory might analyze a piece's quality from a professional perspective, identify instruments, and critique arrangements. Many people criticize Furi Lian's "Brave" and G Gundam's "Plazma" as completely unsuitable, even giving them poor reviews. Perhaps they are right, as their appreciation skills may far exceed mine. But even so, after listening to the 12 OPs, I couldn't bring myself to dislike "Brave," and even felt it was "the one." This might be because it has integrated into the emotions I felt while watching the work, becoming a unique companion.
Secondly, live experiences can also change my preferences. A few weeks ago, I went to the Strawberry Music Festival in Foshan. Before going, I had no feelings for their rock music. But at the festival, after enjoying it with everyone in the rain, I felt I would remember these bands and songs for the rest of my life. At that moment, music was no longer just sound, but a symbol intertwined with memories and atmosphere.
Deep down, it is still the resonance with the thoughts behind the work or music. The reason pop music is popular is precisely because it can touch people's hearts, right? Just like in Chekhov's novel "The Student," where a college student tells two village women the story of Apostle Peter from the Bible. Although the women had little education, they were choked up by the story. The student realized that it wasn't because he told it well, but because they cared deeply about Peter's soul's plight, feeling a kindred connection. This is the mysterious bond between people and works. If I cannot connect with a song, it is either due to my insufficient appreciation skills or because I have not yet experienced a moment that resonates with it.
I can't help but sigh: if something can evoke a beautiful memory, I often end up liking it. At the very least, it allows me to relive that grand story and temporarily escape the helplessness of reality.
It also reminds me of the flower of the little prince in "The Little Prince." "Among countless lives, there is no other. It is the time and effort you spend that makes your flower unique."