It’s been about 15 years since I met “Quasimodo,” “Joshua,” and “Simon.” And we’ve been through so much together! Then some years after, “Stanley Climbfall” came into my life. “Angeline” was added not so long ago, and she just makes me happy. I found a lovely group of friends who always understand me.
Oh I know, they aren’t real human beings, they are just songs. But they are so much more than just songs. They are not Just Another Name for me. They have been the one constant in my life, my Anchor, next to my mother, when all else failed. They were here when I was bullied, when a relationship ended, when people left, and when my mom passed away. All I needed was to hum the songs and they came to life again to help me.
When Jason Wade of Lifehouse sings “I have felt the same as you, I’ve felt the same,” in “Simon”, don’t we feel understood? When he sings in “Joshua,” “You said, don’t be afraid, be strong. I’m with you”, don’t we feel like we can never be alone, even if we are indeed completely and utterly alone?
I have grown up with these songs. I have grown. I got older. That means that what “Simon,” for instance, meant to me 15 years ago is not what “Simon” means to me now. Yet, “Simon” stays, “Simon” knows, “Simon” lets me cry and laugh, and smile, and sing. Simon helps me talk about the person I once was and helps me help other people. “Simon” does not give up on you, or walk away when the going gets tough. “Quasimodo” once was that angry friend who beat up bullies for you. But now I am strong enough to beat the bullies myself and he is just there giving a gentle nod at what I am doing and how I am living my life. I am now able to say myself that “You can’t change me/ You can’t break me/ There goes the world, off of my shoulders”.
Like a lot of friendships, my song friends and I lost touch for a short time, but really good friendships never really go away. And I still needed my song friends so much. I just didn’t see it. And then I picked up No Name Face and Stanley Climbfall again: albums that helped me become the person I am now. Listening to those albums was just like seeing an old friend again after a while. You hug enthusiastically and firmly, and you start where you left off. It’s that simple and it feels that close, and safe. The song friends that are added to our little group only make it better. They make me see a bigger picture. “Angeline”, for instance, convinces me that there is real love out there, real love that is written in the stars. She convinces me with her sweet melody that the stars sometimes do align to enable fate to work its magic. She tells me there are happy endings. She is the rainbow of the group, surprising you with some colour and warmth after a long winter.
I made so many more music friends along the way, some of them are human and some are songs. Some are Lifehouse friends and some are The Script friends. Some are Lana Del Rey friends, Nick Howard friends or Alterbridge friends, some are old friends and some are new. My best friend still is Simon, that’s never going to change. But I will also keep Laura Jansen’s “Elijah” or The Doors’ “LA Woman”, who guided me on my first trip to the USA, close to my heart. Same goes for Sarah McLachlan’s “Adia”, Johnny Cash’s “A Boy Named Sue”, Khaled’s/Outlandish’s “Aicha”. And then The Goo Goo Dolls’s “Iris”; man, I nearly forgot about her and how could I forget her? She made and makes me cry. She made me find that amazing movie The City Of Angels. She made me love Los Angeles even more. She made me think of fate, and love, and spirituality. She is one of the best songs ever written. A very human Lifehouse friend reminded me of that, and how could I not agree that “Iris” is one of the most beautiful song friends I have?
Any song can become a friend, when you need one. They will come to you when you least expect it but need it the most. Whether the song has a human or place name for a title is of no importance at all. What matters is the song, the music. Music always makes me feel better, like my closest human friends. You can never have too many of those people or songs around and every one of those is a magical gift. Music doesn’t ask silly questions, music understands. Music listens.