What’s a song that changed your life?

Okay now, Prompt Gods, you got me with this one.

Upon meeting me, you will swiftly learn that I am 1. much more annoying in person, and 2. highly musical. In fact, music is one of two things I’m actually good at. (The other being writing — did you know I have a blog?) I’ve been a musician for well over half of my life. I can hear a chord progression in the wild and almost immediately be able to tell what it is. I have an entire playlist dedicated to my favorite chord progression, like the absolute maniac I am. As I go about the day, I hum little tunes to myself, a habit I gleaned from my parents. Music is so entwined in my life, it’s hard to imagine a world without it.

Which I guess is why it’s the medium I connect with the most. I love reading almost as much as I love writing, but I seldom have the time to get immersed in a good book. I adore looking at beautiful visual art and architecture, but once I experience something in real life, it loses its magic in a weird way. Film and television are a bit more challenging for me, the living embodiment of ADHD, but if a story can keep my attention, it stays with me. Yet, it’s difficult for me to actually get to the point where my eyes are glued on a screen. Music, though, never fails to capture my attention. Nothing hits me quite like a good song.

Throughout my life, I’ve gotten smacked with a fair share of amazing tunes, both in the “art music” world and in popular/folk music. These are just a few of the songs that have changed my life in some way or another. I originally committed to five songs for this list, but I quickly realized I was not going to be able to limit myself to only five. I’ve included both songs from the pop/fun music tradition as well some hoity-toity “I went to music school for this” pieces. Without further ado, these are ten songs that changed the trajectory of my path in some way or another.

“Alone” – Heart

I am no stranger to blabbering on about Heart on this blog. Heart is one of my all-time favorite bands, if not my absolute number-one favorite. (Sorry, Bon Jovi.) There’s no denying the sheer power of Ann Wilson’s voice and the artistry of her little sis Nancy wielding the axe. Funnily enough, however, when I first heard the song “Alone,” it was not Heart’s version. Instead, Carrie Underwood sang it for an American Idol performance. But I mentioned to my mom that I really, really liked that song, and she was like “Well I got something that’ll really knock your socks off.” Enter the Bad Animals cassette tape that hardly left baby’s first Walkman.

Not long after discovering the song, I managed to view — and capture on VHS — a showing of the music video on VH1 back when it still did that stuff. Let me tell you, I nearly wore that tape out playing it back every morning before school. It was my quiet ritual, immersing myself in the song and the visuals. ‘80s Ann Wilson was one hundred percent my awakening as a goth baddie. I wanted to look just like her in that video.

I guess aside from dictating the direction my aesthetics would take in my thirties (after I finally took the plunge and dyed my hair dark), the song and video gave me hope in a weird way. I’ve written a lot on here as well about how I was bullied quite a bit as a child. So was Ann! She wasn’t always the raven bride crooning from a balcony. Once, she was a scared little kid like I was. I guess it made me realize I wasn’t stuck in my victimhood. One day, I’d find my voice and step into the same badass energy she wore. And I’d look just as fabulous while doing it.

“Livin’ On a Prayer” – Bon Jovi

Okay okay, I said Heart was probably my all-time favorite band, but Bon Jovi has been fighting them for that title most of my life’. They were my first favorite band, beating Heart to the punch by a few years. I heard “It’s My Life” on the radio, which was my first introduction to Bon Jovi, like many millennials. Unlike most millennials, however, I latched onto them, hard. I had to immerse myself in all things Bon Jovi, and my big sister took notice. She gave me her Slippery When Wet tape that had been hers as a teen, back when she saw them live. I guess it’s kind of cool that our first concert experiences were both Bon Jovi, I’m fairly certain.

“Livin’ On a Prayer” was on that tape, and I’m shocked I didn’t wear that one out either. Aside from being my introduction to the talkbox, which would become something of a special interest to me, it was also my introduction to the big, singable choruses that I would fall in love with. I’m a huge sucker for a song that can get the world singing along. I once read a joke that you could play “Livin’ On a Prayer” in a Middle Eastern war zone and it would literally bring peace. Both sides would just start shouting that iconic chorus in unison. That’s what’s so powerful about music to me, and what Bon Jovi seems to understand better than a lot of artists.

Bon Jovi, and this song in particular, were also iconic to me for the way Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora work so symbiotically on it. Originally, Jon was hesitant to even release the song, but guitarist and longtime collaborator Richie Sambora called him an idiot (his words, not mine) for nearly scrapping it. Jon and Richie’s close working relationship gave me the framework for what I wanted my own future band to be like, and it made me realize that the best music is a team effort. This song would not have existed if not for the tie between the songwriters.

“Northern Lights” – Ola Gjello

Those first two were Captain Obvious choices for me, but this one’s a little bit more out of left field. This is the first of two classical-adjacent choices on this list, and it’s one that came to me one year I was in university choir. “Northern Lights” was written as a love letter to the aurora borealis, one of the most brilliant features of the composer’s Scandinavian homeland. The beautiful ethereal melody comes from voice alone, as the piece is entirely a capella.

The lyrics are derived from Biblical writings, borrowing the words from Song of Solomon. Song of Solomon is essentially King Solomon’s erotic poetry dedicated to his lover. If you weren’t raised up in church, you might be surprised to learn there is an entire book of sexiness snuck in there. Interestingly, Gjello utilized the Latin translation. Pulcra es, amica mea — you are beautiful, my beloved friend. It reminds me of one of my favorite verses in the whole Bible, from the same book. In verse 4:7, the lovestruck king writes, “You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.”

Which I guess is how this piece directly inspired the writing of “Chrysanthemums,” my song with Wake Up Jamie that was penned about my girlfriend, Olivia, on the morning after our first encounter. Much like Solomon, I could feel myself falling deeply in love with this woman. I, too, was struck by her beauty, her kisses as sweet as wine. I felt divinely inspired to create something just as beautiful. I wrote “Chrysanthemums” with the intention of interpolating the choral arrangement of “Northern Lights,” but I was unsure of how to properly procure the rights. Still, the song is absolutely inspired by Gjello’s masterpiece nonetheless, and for that, I’m thankful.

“Dosed” – Red Hot Chili Peppers

I’ve always appreciated the Red Hot Chili Peppers, or at least the hits I knew by them, but I hadn’t delved deeply into their discography when I first heard “Dosed” on a car ride with a former bandmate whom I’m still good friends with. He played the song and I had to do a double take. This was the ding dang dong California band? I was immediately drawn in by the guitar, which I’d learn was played by John Frusciante. The intertwined melodic lines carried by the guitar made me realize I was not living up to my potential as a guitarist, and so I studied Frusciante’s work meticulously after discovering this song. He would go on to become my favorite guitarist, quite possibly of all time.

I have fond memories of covering this one with a few different past collaborators throughout my life. Me and the aforementioned former bandmate performed it a few times together, with me singing John Frusciante’s parts. That was one aspect I loved about the song, the way John and Anthony’s voices played off each other. Their harmonies are nothing short of gorgeous, even with Anthony Kiedis’s less-than-stellar vocal qualities. The song suits their voices well, and it goes to show how working together can create a product that outshines what you can do alone. This song is elevated by having John featured prominently.

I also fell in love with the lyrics. In the second verse, they sing “Show love with no remorse.” I’ve always loved that line, and if I didn’t feel weird about it being written by a certifiable creep (not gonna deny Anthony’s…questionable tendencies), I’d get it tattooed on me. There’s something profound in those words. You’ll go on to regret a lot of things in life, but giving love freely to the folks around you is not one of them. The world needs more people happily showing love with no remorse.

“Even If It Breaks Your Heart” – Eli Young Band

Country is a genre I’m surprisingly fond of, for somebody who has the outward appearance of a standard issue goth girl. To be honest, you’ll find a lot more Shania than Bauhaus in my listens. I was raised by a family of crazy hillbillies, so country was the soundtrack to much of my young life. I grew up as far into the country as you can get and still technically be a suburb of Detroit, so I found myself relating quite a bit to the lyrical content of the genre. I’ve been muddin’. I’ve ridden a horse. I even own a cowgirl hat!

And alas, after my music therapy internship fell through, it was a country song that gave me comfort. Eli Young Band’s “Even If It Breaks Your Heart” is a love song to music itself from the perspective of a musician who grew up wanting nothing more than to be part of that world. On this track, Mark Eli (no, there is no guy named “Eli Young” in this band) croons about how a “fire” was lit in him as a child, and that fire has carried him through his life and career. Critics derided the song as being “difficult to relate to,” but as a lifelong musician myself, I’ve never related to a song more.

I’ve heard this song in passing, but it hit me like a freaking Uhaul truck one day when I was literally driving a Uhaul truck. I was moving my stuff to Kalamazoo after leaving the internship with my tail between my legs, and all I had was the radio. I scanned over to the country station and this was on. Let me tell you, I bawled inconsolably at damn near every line. It was a poignant reminder of why I started playing guitar, why I started singing, why I started writing songs. Maybe I never got my music therapy cert, but I still have music, and that’s powerful in and of itself. I don’t need a degree to change the world through the art of song.

“I Want It All” – Queen

My ex-wife always joked about me being the reincarnation of Freddie Mercury, but sometimes, I gotta wonder. I mean, he did die not long before I was born. At least the idea that I’m secretly Freddie makes the fact that I’ve never shared a planet with his illustrious persona slightly better. I will forever mourn the fact that I am not a boomer and missed out on a. owning my own home and b. so many great bands in their primes. Queen had been in my periphery for some time, but watching the film Bohemian Rhapsody back in 2018 made me realize just how much I needed a band like them in my life. I admired their flamboyance, their creativity, their whimsy, their resilience. Those were all traits I needed at that time in my life, and now as well, if I’m honest.

“I Want It All” is kind of representative of the energy of Queen and Freddie Mercury in a way, and I think that’s why I’m drawn to it. I’ve actually listened to it every year for New Years as my way of recalibrating and celebrating. It’s big and bombastic and pleasantly arrogant. It’s about wanting what you want and not being ashamed of it. In that sense, it is an inherently queer song. Peter Frampton and Ann Wilson were my bisexual awakenings in the sense that I caught myself staring at their pictures on their album covers for way too long as a tween, but Freddie Mercury was who finally gave me courage to live out loud. Slight tangent, but me deciding to be authentically queer actually inspired a few of my friends to come out as well, including a good friend of mine who came out as trans. She saw how I was unashamed of who I was in both my identify and faith. And, get this, she just recently ran for office and won. That’s why it’s so important to be who you are. What you do can inspire others.

I’d like to think Freddie would be proud.

“Neil Gow’s Lament for the Death of His Second Wife” – Neil Gow

Here’s the second of the selections on the more art music side of things, and it’s the oldest on this list by a huge margin. This song dates back to the early 19th century, to a Scottish man named Neil Gow. He composed this song as a memorial for his second wife, Margaret Urquhart, hence the title of the song being “Neil Gow’s Lament for the Death of His Second Wife.” The thing about this little fiddle tune is how much emotion is contained within it. It is also, uniquely, the only composition on this list without words (and putting on my nerd glasses, it’s a piece, not a song, technically. because it’s not sung). I find it beautiful in a very somber way how you can still feel this gentleman’s pain over two centuries later through the music alone. That’s how powerful of a force this thing is. Neil Gow and Margaret Urquhart are long since dead, but his love for her lives on because of this piece.

I learned a classical guitar arrangement years ago, when I was a student at Eastern Michigan University. I wish to God I’d recorded it, because I’ve since lost the sheet music and have gotten a bit out of practice on the ol’ nylon string. But let me tell you, there is no feeling comparible to coaxing this stunning piece out of a resonant gitfiddle. It’s an incredibly difficult piece to play (I’m talking, one hand position has you stretched over like five frets), and the fact that I was able to master it at one point feels really good. It’s one I’d certainly like to revisit once I find my sweet Cordoba.

“Kill” – Jimmy Eat World

It’s hard to believe (well, maybe not really), but I was a total music snob as a child. I was convinced any music made after I was born sucked and that all the great songs had already been written. I only liked the classics. Call me Bob Seger, but all I cared about was that old-time rock and roll. That all changed in high school when a good friend’s then-boyfriend now-ex-husband was clearing out his CD collection. He’d just digitized them and had no use for them, but it would be another few years before I’d get with the times and switch to digital formats. But I still had my little portable CD player, and one dreary afternoon, on a bus ride to Chicago for a band trip, I popped in one of the albums he gave me. It was Futures by Jimmy Eat World. I was already in love with the album art, a lone telephone booth in the night. There was something oddly eerie and nostalgic about it. I had to know what this band was about.

I didn’t know what to expect. I had heard “The Middle” in passing, but I didn’t connect the dots to realize this was the same band. I loved the first few tracks, and honestly I’d consider “23” or “Polaris” to be my favorites off this album. But it was track four, “Kill,” that made me first take notice. It was drenched in emotion — there’s a reason Jimmy Eat World are considered darlings among real emos. In fact, the band was a conduit for me into the world of emo, pop-punk, and alternative, when I’d previously written those genres off as inferior to the much safer classic rock. This song inspired me to seek out more artists who challenged my tastes and broadened my musical horizons.

The lyrics hit me hard too. Around this time, I was pining over a little hockey player dude with Justin Bieber hair, of course, and I can’t tell you how many times I sobbed to this song while bemoaning the fact that he would never love me. It’s funny how that was probably actually for the best. I would not have been happy had I ended up with that guy. I even dated him for a hot second only to realize I wasn’t all that crazy about him after all. But this song, with all its pained longing, carried me through this crush and so many others.

“Listen to Your Heart” – Roxette

I’m going to be real — I do not care for the DHT cover of this song that introduced my generation to it. I always thought the vocals were too clean and pretty and I don’t really love simple piano ballads as opposed to big, slap-you-in-the-face power ballads. Ya girl needs a guitar solo and some drummage, okay? Thankfully, there was another version of this song, the original Roxette version, that would smack me just as hard as I needed. I remember first hearing it in the parking lot of a mall and thinking “What is this?” I much preferred the soaring vocals and twinkly synths Roxette brought to the table. This one had a lot more passion.

When I first heard the Roxette version of “Listen to Your Heart,” I was also still mired in my “tiny rockist“ mentality from childhood where rock was the superior genre and pop was just mindless drivel. But Roxette introduced me to a gent named Per Gessle, who quickly became one of my new favorite songwriters. It was through studying this song and countless other Roxette tracks that I developed a healthy appreciation for the art of pop songwriting. It really is a craft that not everyone can perfect, and Per (along with fellow Swede Max Martin) gave me plenty of quality material to study for writing my own music.

I also admired vocalist Marie Fredriksson’s power and passion. She, along with Ann Wilson, the ladies of Fleetwood Mac, and Cher, became something of a blueprint for the kind of singer I wanted to be. Unfortunately, she is no longer with us as of 2019 after a hard-fought battle against brain cancer, so I’ll never get to experience her glorious voice in person. Still, this song demonstrates her talents so wonderfully, and when I turn this song up loud, I can almost imagine being amongst the crowd at Borgholm Castle, screaming along with her.

“Knowing” – Tessa Violet

This is probably the newest song on this list, having just been released this year. I learned about Tessa Violet from my sweet aforementioned girlfriend Olivia. She, like me, is a bit of a musical chameleon. Any woman who can write both bad bitch anthems and deeply introspective ballads about realizing you’re not perfect is a woman after my own heart. But “Knowing” is a weird one. It’s quite possibly the only upbeat song that can make me sob more than some actually sad songs, and it’s all in the words. I don’t know how many times I’ve almost had to pull over because I couldn’t even see with all the tears in my eyes.

This song found me exactly when I needed it. I was going through a bitter divorce, having to relocate several times, and still regaining my footing after realizing my music therapy dreams were never coming to fruition. “Knowing” felt like a love letter from the universe itself postmarked directly to me in that moment. The last few lines say it all for me. I’ve quoted them on here before I’m pretty sure, but they bear repeating:

Give yourself the grace to start again
If it hurts you, put it down
If it don’t serve you, look around
You’re doing great, my babe
I swear you’re gonna make it
You never can know what could come
It’s not done until it’s done
You’re doing great, my babe
I swear you’re gonna make it

I can do hard things
Parallel parking
Like it all, it just takes practicing
(Knowing this is not enough is enough)
I can walk a new path
I can get myself back
I can learn to be a better friend
And give myself the grace to try again

That’s what it’s all about. That’s what music is all about. Somewhere out there, Tessa was feeling exactly the same way I was feeling once. There is beauty in realizing that your struggles are not unique, and music is one way we’ve all learned to commiserate — and lift each other up. That’s what this song is about. We can do hard things. We can change for the better. We can start anew. That’s a message I most definitely needed and still need every day. And that’s why I felt this song was the was most appropriate way to end this list. I pray my own songs go on to be “love letters” for folks who need them. That’s why I’m a musician, and that’s why I love music. It’s a truly magical art form in the ways it can transform our lives. Here’s to the songs that enrich our existence and make life worth living.

Do you have a song that changed your life? Drop it in the comments! And if you enjoyed this post, feel free to support the work I do on this blog!

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