If you like hunting, you take your kids hunting. If they don’t like it, whatever. But you showed them who you are, and you led them to a new experience. Let the chips fall where they may.In my case, I like music. I like playing it, studying it, listening to it, talking about it. I can’t be myself without showing my love for music. Thankfully, my family loves music, too. (Kinda hard not too.)We don’t always like the same albums or songs, or maybe we just aren’t in the mood for the same type of jams. But there’s always music playing at my house, and Nola, my 13 months-old child is my biggest enthusiast-in-crime.

Just look up  “hot take” on twitter’s search bar and see what happens. The hotter the take, the more inflammatory the replies. Sometimes that irritates me. Perhaps it shouldn’t. But, as someone who is passionate about all art (particularly music), I find myself irritated that so many people reduce music to an opinion that they shall defend to the death. It’s almost like vile political conversation.

I will inevitably get to an age where I won’t understand the appeal of something new—from a stylistic or cultural standpoint. Because I’ll be too “old”. I don’t suspect, however, I’ll have too much trouble bonding with my daughters over music. Just because two people don’t have identical tastes does not mean that they can’t enjoy anything together. And that’s what makes music, film, literature and hobbies fun. They are all better shared.

I’m visiting my mom in Wilmington, Delaware for a few weeks in the summer of 2006. I’m fifteen. Mom drank and did a few lines before retiring to the bedroom we shared during our visits. My younger brother stays up with her as she looks out the window for cops, while I escape downstairs to watch MTV. I know from bits I’ve heard on the radio and seen on the Internet that “Miss Murder” is in the top 10. I have to see Davey. I have to hear his voice. I need the song to enter my bloodstream. I don’t care if I had to stay up through the witching hour to hear it. I need it now. 

Tirzah’s Devotion has a strange ability (much like Frank Ocean’s whole discography) to tackle all of the messiness that comes with romance in a groovy but insightful and emotional way.