As he drove, I sat queuing up songs to play. Although I have broad tastes in music, I have a particular affinity for top forty hits and tweeny pop. And I had a moderate case of what I’ll call ‘Jukebox Syndrome’: a kind of phobia of being in charge of putting on music for others or a crowd of people. I’d get wrapped up in trying to pick the kinds of songs that I’d think listeners would like. Plus, the more people there were, the more likely I would be at a loss for picking just the right songs (it becomes increasingly difficult to appease everyone simultaneously).
So we were sitting in the car, a wave of Jukebox Syndrome was hitting me with full-force, and I was at a loss. I explained this all to him. And my dad turned to me and said “Just play whatever music you like. And if people complain, who cares? You can like whatever music you want, and they can get over it.”
I’m now twenty years old, and I do not think I am above being a One Direction fan. Their profession is entertainment, they are vocally talented, and above all else, they harmonize.
And I’m so excited to be jamming on my brand new mic.