Follow your own rhythm. Find your groove. Flip the script.
By: Lakay Cornell, She Her
Tags: Music, Mysogyny, Self Care, Feminism

Follow your own rhythm. Find your groove. Flip the script.

Music is my spirit animal.

I feel it in the bones of my soul the way a preacher feels the hand of god.

The call to action in a song is more energizing than a 70’s pick-me-up-pill.

The way certain songs ooze sensuality is reminiscent of a steamy night in New Orleans I’ve yet to have.

And a song that lacks musical depth but makes me wanna dance can ease tension faster than a hot stone massage.

When I’m angry and want to scream or fight, I’ve got songs for that, too.

In fact, I’ve got a song for every mood, every feeling, and every moment.

I can go ahead and warn you, I always choose the music.

Choosing the music means I can control the words and the tempo. I promise I’ll set the tone for whatever adventure we are on. Whether it’s a road trip. a full-on party, coworking on a patio, or drinking wine on a cool fall evening, I’ll be sure to play the tunes that add to, not distract from our experience.

I have a playlist for activism, a playlist for feminism, and a. playlist for sensuality. I also have a 19+ hour playlist full of favorites and memories. You’ll probably know most of those, and I’ll be stoked if you sing along. You have full authority to skip any song that doesn’t do it for you, just don’t ask me to add one.

I call that playlist, Big Crazy Life, and the songs remind me of a person I once loved, a person I still love, or a moment that I never want to forget. The few songs I love that aren’t on there are missing because they belong a heartache so deep I’m not yet ready to passively pay homage to it.

Speaking of paying homage, at 18, I was introduced to Biggie, N.W.A., Dr. Dre, and Snoop by a musician who would go on to teach me more about music than almost anyone before or since.

Through their music, he taught me about resistance and rhyming and unabashed confidence. He also taught me intense emotion through the Smiths and the beauty of a true songwriter through Tom Petty.

A few years later, another dude taught me how to love through the Grateful Dead and build a revolution through Bob Dylan. He also taught me the joy of dancing until you can’t stand any longer through Phish and what a guitar that’s played by a master can sound like through Stevie Ray Vaughn and Eric Clapton.

And while I, too, jumped on the bandwagon when Slim Shady turned out to be a genius wordsmith, I have since removed most of old school hip hop from all of my playlists. I can no longer stomach the words to get the benefit of the talent.

If you found yourself shocked by the hip hop artists who came out in support of a racist, misogynist president, revisit their lyrics.

Hip hop has been bragging about grabbing womxn’s pussies for thirty years. Full stop.

Culture-shifting music has always laid down a gauntlet and asked us to choose sides.

Once I learned that rebellion doesn’t have to involve blatant hatred and revolution doesn’t come if we categorically disregard other humans, the choice was easy for me.

References to excessive materialism by mega-stars, misogyny from a whole slew of artists, and thinly veiled rape culture from — well, too damn many people — are no longer an acceptable string of words to have on repeat in my head.

Instead, I choose Lizzo who has that same unabashed confidence, lyrical genius, and up-front resistance. I choose Brandi Carlisle, the Indigo Girls, and Appalachia Rising who call us to rebellion without peppering in homophobia and gender bashing.

And so many more.

We have so little control.

We live in constant fight or flight. mode.

The ability to control the white noise and the main stage performances is a gift.

I will no longer be silent when the world pushes in too close and tries to suck the music out of my soul.

I will ride the notes of the music that fuels my rebellion and our revolution.