Written By: Angeni Peters
A photo of me and my siblings.
From left to right: me, my brother: Alex, and my sister: Ava
The first time I truly heard music, I was in the backseat of my parents’ car, strapped into a booster seat as we drove to visit family.
It was one of those long road trips that had become a regular part of my childhood, a time when the road of passing scenery blurred into one. I was about five years old, and my attention was divided between the conversation between my mom and dad and my insignificant thoughts that popped up as I stared out my window.
My dad reached over to the stereo, cranking the volume just loud enough to drown out his own singing, Strawberry Fields Forever by The Beatles rang through the speakers, and we all started to sing along. Little did I know, in that very moment, that my relationship with music would begin its slow but steady evolution.
Music has always been a part of my childhood.
My dad spent his late teens and early 20s dabbling in music; spinning records and pursuing a drum and bass career.
My parents, being driven to music in their own way, made it a point to introduce us to the classics early on.
While I appreciated their taste in music, it wasn’t something I ever took notice of. That is until I was in the back seat humming my favorite part of my favorite Beatles song.
I knew in that moment that I would grow up and grow apart from my siblings and parents and I would look back on this moment and reminisce about us being together and sharing such a simplistic moment.
Looking back, I realize that the music we were raised on linked us to each other and eventually facilitated relationships and memories throughout my young adult life.
From that point on, music quietly accompanied the stories of my childhood and continued to do so through my teen years, and into adulthood, like a soundtrack to a movie I didn’t know I was starring in.
As I grew older, music would become more than just background noise on a road trip—it became a way for me to understand the world, a way for me to connect to others, and a way to process the changes that were happening within me. Strawberry Fields Forever was just the first of many songs that came to define the memories I have made up until this point.
As a child, I didn’t yet understand the significance of Strawberry Fields Forever, nor did I realize that it would be a song that represented the loss of innocence and a yearning desire to return to simpler times.
As I grew older, I started to seek out music on my own.
By the time I reached middle school, my parents’ musical tastes began to feel outdated, and I longed to discover my own sound.
In finding my own sound, I fell in line with the sensationalism of pop culture music. In listening to the early 2000s classics, I hoped for acceptance from my peers—listening to artists that were deemed cool for my age, rather than what was enjoyable.
As I began to grow and mature, I realized (like most times) my parents were right. The pop music I spent the better half of the last 5 years listening to really wasn’t all that great.
The branch between my pre-teen and teenage years would be defined by The Lumineers.
Slowly, I began to care less about fitting in and instead, found myself leaning back into the music that brought familiarity and nostalgic childhood memories.
While The Lumineers defined my transition in growth and maturity, the song Angela by The Lumineers facilitated long-lasting relationships and friendships.
From romantic relationships to friendships, music seemed to bridge the gaps between me and the people around me.
Artists like The Lumineers, and others like; The Beatles, Foster the People, and Caamp were common ground. Through these connections initiated by music, I was able to expand to new artists and genres of music.
New music and artists like TV Girl, Microwave, The Antlers, Mac Demarco, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Two Door Cinema Club, Active Bird Community, and so much more, gave me a new understanding of music and its meaning to others.
As a teenager, music became more than just a connection to my family; it became a form of self-expression.
While I continued to move through my early years of high school, exploring new genres and artists in the world of music, the memory of first hearing the song Strawberry Fields Forever, stayed in the back of my mind, naive to the fact that Strawberry Fields Forever would not be the only song to hold the unique power to transcend me into a time and place.
I started making playlists that reflected specific moments or vibes. The songs I chose were a way of communicating thoughts and emotions I couldn’t always put into words.
Ranging from feelings of holiday magic to road-tripping across the U.S. or simply a playlist of background music for deep, late-night conversations.
Whether I was alone in my room, lying on my bed with headphones on, or in the car with friends, music was a constant presence in my life. It became a way to navigate the complexities of growing up, to make sense of the confusion and the changes that seemed to come with every passing year.
At the beginning of college, my palate in music expanded once again.
A photo of my road trip out west in Big Sky Montana
Exploring the up-and-coming genre of folk-country music. Inspired by artists like Zach Bryan, Noah Kahan, Tyler Childers, Mt. Joy, and Gregory Alan Isakov, my friends and I fantasized about packing our belongings, buying a van, and heading west.
Last winter, I decided to spend 4 months studying abroad in Rome, Italy.
My first trip while studying abroad in Italy. I took a weekend trip to Florence and a day trip to Pisa.
As some may suspect, the adjustment to move across the globe for 4 months was a bit uncomfortable.
During that time, I grew in ways I would have never imagined. In an unfamiliar area, thousands of miles from home, I often struggled with the language barrier, time difference, and being so far away from loved ones.
Most days were paired with homesickness and anxiety. However, over time I learned to navigate through this with open-mindedness and finally began to understand that it is in uncomfortable times, that growth happens.
Music was also something I leaned into during this time. I found myself often reaching for the Anyone But You movie soundtrack. Having seen the movie in theaters with my sister and best friend right before I left the States, the soundtrack was tied to comforting feelings and memories of home.
The feel-good movie left an impact on me since going to see it in theaters was one of the last activities I did with my sister and best friend before moving across the globe for 4 months.
Yet, now when I listen to the Anyone but You soundtrack, it reminds me of my time abroad when I grew up in the most uncomfortable ways but immersed myself in life-changing experiences.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that my connection to music goes beyond just the songs I listen to—it’s about the memories attached to those songs, the people I’ve shared them with, and the experiences that have shaped who I am.
There’s something about the way a song can capture a feeling or a moment in a way that words alone can’t.
My dad, me, and my brother.
When I hear Strawberry Fields Forever, I’m not just reminded of that first car ride with my parents—I’m reminded of all the times music has been a part of my life, guiding me, comforting me, and helping me to understand myself in ways I never could have anticipated.
Looking back, I had no idea how much music would come to influence me, and how it would play such a big role in my identity. From the moment my dad turned on Strawberry Fields Forever, music has been a constant companion, shaping the way I see the world and the way I see myself.