More proof that the music of our youth is the music of our life

There’s a second part to all this. For males, it’s 14. So I decided to do something about it the only way I know how: I analyzed data. For this project, the music streaming service Spotify gave me data on how frequently every song is listened to by men and women of each particular age. Keep reading. This phenomenon is statistically explored in a New York Times story called “The Songs That Bind.” It turns out that Spotify data says the age of peak influence for music for females is age 13. But I thought data might give me clarity on why my brother and I never seem to agree on music. As our identities solidify, we not only use music as a way to figure out who we are but as a way of projecting ourselves to the world. Later in life, we inevitably wonder why music isn’t as good as it was when we were young. He hates it.)
I was beginning to get frustrated by how much of our lives are spent arguing about music. Our emotional attachment to those songs remains with us for the rest of our lives. “What’s wrong with kids today?” we say. Nothing will ever sound as good. The patterns were clear. My younger brother, Noah, and I were recently arguing, again, about music. In particular, I wanted to see to what extent the year we were born influences the music we listen to, the extent to which different generations are bound to disagree on music. There’s a musical sweet spot in our life, usually from the time we enter high school to sometime in our early 20s. (I love it. The subject of our current impasse was Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” — the song, not the album. Even though there is a recognized canon of rock music, there are big differences by birth year in how popular a song is. This is fascinating stuff.   This connection is so strong that the music of this period imprints itself on our psyche forever. I couldn’t think of a way to use data to prove how great “Born to Run” is.
More proof that the music of our youth is the music of our life