By Stephanie Linehan
I was lost in 2016. That year I promised myself ‘words.’ I could give them and seek them. And I turned to them. Quotes, poems, songs, and Bible verses. If I read what I was experiencing in someone else’s words, then I knew I wasn’t alone in my thoughts, actions, or decisions. Words became complete comfort to me. I found meaning and reassurance in what other people created, wrote, printed, produced, published, and made.
It dawned on me the other day just how much of a comfort music has been to me when I heard two of my favorites, what I call classics, back-to-back on the radio. U2’s I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For and Poison’s Something to Believe In. Those songs feel like a cup of warm tea, nestled in my favorite sweater, in front of the fireplace. I can belt their lyrics alone in my car, sometimes shed a tear, and feel chills throughout my body. Like an old friend - dependable, trustworthy, loving, and kind.
I started reading Surrender by U2’s lead singer, Bono, via Audible. His baritone-who-thinks-he’s-a-tenor, Irish-accented voice is so soothing, as a singer and as a reader of his book. Each chapter is written for one of his songs. All forty chapters of it. So many of us can probably relate to a walk down memory lane via songs. ;)
My sisters and I grew up with Anne Murray and The Judds blaring from the glass door, floor stereo of our parents. My friend Missy and I could lip sync to every single Madonna song. We even choreographed a routine to her song True Blue. I used to lie in my bed as a high schooler with Sheryl Crow’s Strong Enough and I Shall Believe coming from my CD player. But before that were the New Kids on the Block and other trending boy bands. Finger waiting on the cassette player record button trying to catch the latest song on the radio. I also loved the Violent Femmes (thank you, Sarah Warren!), Smashing Pumpkins, Green Day, Garbage, and Cracker. Those tunes often blared from my car radio driving home from a late night at the Dairy Queen or the Hudson Target. Belting those songs felt liberating and empowering. College was Jessie’s Girl, the Dangerous Minds movie soundtrack’s Gangster’s Paradise, and the Bare-Naked Ladies’ If I Had a Million Dollars. Those songs were often accompanied by beach-themed parties in sand-filled fraternity house basements, the O.P. 's Colorado Bulldogs, or Sharky’s dance floor with my G Phi B girls. And you can’t forget The Nada’s and Marcus Kjelsen’s The Sorority Song.
During my “lost” era, it was Kelly Clarkson’s Stronger on the radio heading to pick up Ashley en route to our early morning Body Pump class. Then once there, realizing my latest favorite song, I am Here by Pink, was now the song for the squat track. I remember looking over at Ashley, the weighted bar across my back, squatting, and whispering with tears welling in my eyes, “This is it!” But it was also the warmth within my childhood church, hearing and whisper-singing (because that’s what I do), Here I Am, Lord and On Eagles Wings. And even some more time into my adulthood - the beat, not necessarily the lyrics, of Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People, reminds me of Sophie. Every. Single. Time. <3 <3 <3
In the spring of my sophomore year in college I met with a marine recruiter. Some people kinda laughed at me and made a joke of it. Part of me was like, “What do I have to lose?” Another part of me was curious and saw the potential and possibility. Afterall, I did come to UNI without knowing a single soul. I was open to bigger things and what else was out there for me. So U2’s titled song, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, can kinda be a rip on me. Like, there goes Steph again! With something else she’s trying, learning, wanting, seeking, or searching. She never fills up. She’s always looking around. What else is there? Never satisfied. Never settles. But nowadays, I’m embracing that I haven’t figured it all out. And I’m open to letting life surprise me.
Oh what we find, when we stop searching. Oh what we feel, when we stop forcing. Oh what we receive, when we stop fearing. Oh what we become, when we just love. - Craig Crippen
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My high school graduation gift to my sister Allison were U2 tickets (The only other concert we had ever been to was at a Girl Scout event at the Met Center and the Jets were up on stage). We both were attending UNI the fall of 1997 and had to travel back home for the concert in Minneapolis mid-week. I remember having to skip my Schools and Society class on a Friday and not exactly leaving a good impression on that professor (This went on to be the only class I ever pulled an all-nighter in as well. I typed a 10+ paper on a word processor of all things). I can’t recall many exact details of that concert night. I know we drove downtown Minneapolis in our shared white four-door Pontiac SunBird without Mapquest or Suri. Perhaps a box phone in tote. I’m sure we stood the whole time. And belted the lyrics among the large crowd. I’m pretty certain, too, I felt the music pounding in my chest. I know the night felt surreal and was so much fun.
In 2017 I rallied some friends to go online at the same time in an attempt to buy U2 concert tickets somewhat together. It ended up to be like a dozen of us, stretched across a few different levels and sections of the US Bank Stadium. I remember Bono not denying the poor acoustics within the newly constructed, huge stadium. But the lights and the music and the magic of the night and not to mention the friendship were all so amazing. I remember standing, eyes closed, sometimes a tear, swaying, and belting to:
One,
Desire,
I Will Follow,
All I Want is You,
Sunday Bloody Sunday,
and Where the Streets Have No Name
to mention just a few.
Thank you for always being there for me, music; especially you, U2.
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