humanity
Humanity topics include pieces on the real lives of music professionals, amateurs, inspiring students, celebrities, lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories in the music sphere.
Krowcain
I made this song on my phone wheen I moved back in with my parents. They let me move in after I got out of jail and my friend got evicted. I lost my computer during that process and lost a lot of my songs. This song is about remembering who you are and how to get back even in the face of apparent opposition. The first verse is about me and my life circumstances. Despite how it may look to everyone else I have to remember who I am and continue in that air in order to achieve my greatness. This song outlines what I want in my relationships when we are alone. I want protection for my loved ones, and I want to be immune from the hurt of relationships while maintaining the ones I value.
By Jordan C. Hunter6 years ago in Beat
Fake Happy
For a long time, I saw myself as fundamentally broken, or damaged in some way. I was this thing, that could play at being a whole person. When in reality I was half a human (maybe less). For most of that time I wore it on my sleeve, like a badge. A sign that I was different.
By Francesca Blewett 6 years ago in Beat
Finding the Beauty in a Spectacular Nothingness
Riptide by Vance Joy had been my favorite song for almost two years straight. I’ve moved onto other music now, but I will always be in love with how none of the lyrics make any sense. It's like someone reached into a soul, scooped out a squirming handful of living images and scenes, and plopped them carefree onto an intimately simple three chord progression. I poured over that song for months, scouring every corner of the internet, searching desperately for a meaning inside that beautifully wild tangle of words and sounds, frantic and in awe of how a human brain could create something so simple, and yet so confusing - something that made absolutely no sense, but communicated with my confused youthful heart more intimately than any spoken word from mortal lips before. Living that song was a grand quest, you see, one that I know I was predestined to live, but one that has never had a clear destination. But, there was a magnificence in its flustered haze, and that magnificence is what I’d later fall in love with. Like searching for the moon in a night swollen with fog, trying desperately to find the beauty in the swell and swoon of a spectacular nothingness. I remember not so much the specifics of the scenes I lived, like what I was wearing, or what the date was. I just remember that feeling.
By noodle dad6 years ago in Beat
Symphony of the Soul
It had been the worst day of my life. It seemed no one wanted to hire me. I sent my resume to every business on the block and did my daily rounds of the show my face to the hiring managers. It became a job to find a job and I was exhausted. I sent in over fifty applications and it was the same response every time.
By Cara Simone Sparks6 years ago in Beat
Separate Ways
“I heard a woman becomes herself the first time she speaks without permission.” -Denice Frohman Everyone knew that when I grew up, I was going to be an opera singer. Close my eyes and I'm back there: thirteen years old, second floor of a renovated garage, a block away from campus. The lemon-yellow walls made her happy tears shine a deep marigold. I had just finished singing the Ave Maria with her. It was the end of another voice lesson.
By Kathryn Milewski6 years ago in Beat
Middle-aged Mallrat Wannabe
Have you ever seen that strange middle-aged woman who struts up Manhattan’s Amsterdam Avenue every morning? And back again every evening? She’s been spotted in Midtown and in multiple places across New York City. She's been described as a fast-walking mature lady with unkempt curly blond hair, wearing ear-buds, belting out something that sounds like “sing my songs about you.” People have reported having to quickly leap out of the way as this woman is prone to sudden explosions of air-keyboard playing and dramatic conducting. Some have witnessed a full-on Napoleon Dynamite jazz-hands episode, arms jutting up and sweeping out in a dangerous arc over her head as her hips sass and sway. On very rare occasions, city-dwellers have witnessed her performing a shoulder-shimmy, skipping, and, well...
By Jenny Bruce6 years ago in Beat
