I really want you to like this band

A pandemic discovery and a reflective musing on why we want other people to like the things we like.

On the way home from a quick errand in the car the other day, a song popped into my head that I absolutely needed to hear. At most other points in human existence, a person would have needed to be patient. In 2024, I can listen to just about any song, anytime, anywhere, in a matter of seconds.

Wild, isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not if that’s all you’ve ever known, but it should be regardless. I’m often struck by these absurdities of gratification that slip seamlessly into expectations.

Just because we can have something doesn’t mean we should. But just because we shouldn’t always have things doesn’t mean we shouldn’t sometimes have things.

Or something like that.

I dutifully plugged in my auxiliary cord and found the song I wanted. I was in the car alone – a rarity, especially since I had offered to bring two kids with me and both had surprisingly declined.

Does music just sound better alone, in the car, with your choice of song at any volume?

It did in that moment – so much so that when I was a few blocks from home, I shut off my blinker and went the other way.

Just a few more minutes. One more song.

The band? They’re called Sorry, and they form the inspiration for the essay below (one that I wrote a few months ago but was reminded of specifically on this car ride home).

It would be incorrect to say that Sorry got me through COVID, but they sure helped. I “discovered” them (which really means I first heard them) early in the pandemic on a rare outing to get groceries.

Remember when some of us didn’t leave the house very much, during the worst of it?

Yeah, I don’t want to remember it either.

Novel experiences, which I have always cherished far more than material things, were in short supply. There was a smallness and a sameness to life.

I took any sweetness and newness I could get. Hearing one of their songs by chance on the radio during a 5-minute drive home from Target was one of those moments. I went home, listened to the same song on repeat, found more songs, made a playlist and suddenly had a new thing.

I wore out that playlist on countless runs through our neighborhood, down by the river, when it was 80 degrees, 45 degrees and 10 degrees.

It always felt fresh and new, while at the same time giving me a default decision that was already made. With so much to think about and worry about in 2020 — with a strange, almost paradoxical decision fatigue creeping in even with fewer choices needing to be made in a given day — figuring out what music to listen to wasn’t one of them.

Do you have a band, song movie, show, book or some other piece of art that holds a similar place in your heart, pandemic-related or not? I’d love to hear about it in the comments. But first, here is one of their songs and the essay:

I really want you to like this band.

I mean, you don’t have to. But they’re so good, and I think you would like them.

I heard one of their songs when I was in the car a while back, and I knew immediately that I was into them. It was an instant obsession.

I had to get out of the car with my kids before I found out what it was called, but don’t worry. I wrote down some of the lyrics from the song so that I could Google it and find out the name of the band.

Then I immediately made a playlist of all their stuff. I’m telling you, I’m hooked. They’re kind of hard to describe, but they basically combine electronic pop with grunge, sometimes in the same song. They have both female and male vocals.

Listen. I understand they probably appeal to a very specific audience. There is very likely something about my personal musical taste and sensibility that causes me to like them – things that go back decades into my history, musical, personal and otherwise.

Things that I don’t fully understand.

I want you to like them, even though your history is not the same as mine and your tastes are not the same as mine.

But I don’t want you to like them as much as I do. Does that make sense?

I want you to like them about 80% as much as I do, if I might put a specific number on it. Like, I want you to be really into them. But I still want them to be mine, like I discovered them.

They played a show a few months ago, and I of course went. It was at a tiny venue, and I only knew one other person there. Maybe 100 people were there.

I couldn’t believe there weren’t more people there. I was pretty mad that they couldn’t play at a bigger place and draw a bigger crowd. But I also didn’t want more people to be there because then it would mean the show lost its intimacy.

The singer and guitarist were outside the club smoking when I left. I was star struck and barely made eye contact when I told them it was a great show. And it really was great. All the songs sounded like I wanted them to sound, and they played all but one of the ones I really wanted them to play.

But everything is good, you know?

More people need to love this band, but not too many. And they should probably stick to that 80% rule we already talked about.

I don’t know why it really matters to me that you like them. I prefer to think it’s selfless, like I’m sharing a secret with the world. But I think it probably has more to do with the validation of my choices combined with a desire to seem like an ultra-cool tastemaker.

Anyway, I just sent you that original playlist I made to get you started. I know I said all the songs are good, and they are, but I consider these 13 songs to be sort of the essential starting point. If you don’t like these – I can’t imagine why – you won’t like the rest.

Every time I see you, I’m probably going to ask you if you’ve listened to the playlist yet and to name your favorite songs. Maybe we can even compare which songs we like the best.

I bet I know which ones will be your favorites, but I will let you discover them yourself. Sometimes my favorites change, which I think is a good sign.

I hope they play here again soon. They’re touring right now but the closest venue is about a six hour drive away. I’m totally considering going anyway, so let me know if you are interested. I pretty much know the band members now after saying hi after the last show.

Sorry, I know I’m getting ahead of myself. I just get really excited when I love a band. You probably know what that feels like, right?

What’s that? Oh, you know exactly how I feel and you want to send me a playlist you just made from an obscure band you just started listening to?

I probably should have explained at the beginning that this is a one-way musical relationship. I want to introduce you to new things, but I’m not interested in reciprocating.

I hope you understand because I really want you to like this band.