Behind the Beat

There are very few songs that truly stand the test of time. Songs that not only move you but seem to gravitate towards you then pull you in unexpectedly, almost like a musical riptide. You see, Kanye Wests' "Stronger" was so much more to me than just some single off a rapper's album. It was my pounding of the chest moment. It was my warrior call.

The release of Graduation back in 2007 marked a pivotal moment in my teenage life. I was not only navigating my way through a typical high school student's existence but was also treading the murky waters of frustrating home life. In class, my mind drifted away concocting a master plan as to how I would ask my mother to purchase Kanye's new album. "Alright, I'll wait until she walks in, see if she'll loan me the money", '"No, no that won't work, I DON'T HAVE A JOB!"' (sighs). "Forget it," I told myself. "I'll just boldly come right out and ask her, declare to her that this may quite honestly be one of the most important albums of all-time, "Stronger" is on the album! I HAVE to have it!".

I had finally worked up enough courage to ask her after she arrived home from work one afternoon. My mother looked at me and gave a deep sigh. "We'll see," she said. I remember seeing the music video for "Stronger" countless times on just about every channel that played music videos. The video itself, the lyrics, how the song ultimately made me feel was only made better by the hypnotizing instrumental as the worlds of hip-hop and techno fused to form some sort of musical gumbo. It was the perfect musical marriage. Any issue of any sort whether personal, school-related or otherwise quickly disappeared from my conscious as I saw my idol performing my new favorite song. The song that reignited my passion for music. That song made me feel that it was fine to take losses just as long as you find some purpose in that loss and come back bigger, bolder and better than you could have possibly fathomed. When that song played, I knew I was indeed, stronger.

One mild September afternoon as my mother exhaustively exited her vehicle, she handed me a copy of Kanye's Graduation album. I felt like I had gotten a Picasso painting, one that felt like a missing piece in an aspiring music artists' colorful collection. I recall not having much homework that evening and excitedly thought to myself, "that homework can wait!" Receiving that disc on that September day made me the happiest I had been in a long time. I played that album all through the night and into the wee hours of the morning. Although the entire album was a work of art in itself, I found myself replaying "Stronger" over and over again as if it were my first time hearing it.

Fast forward to the present day, 2020, I am now a 27-year-old man intent on contributing to the culture that I love oh so much. That same thumping of the "Stronger" instrumental pounding through my poorly crafted earphones years ago, forever etched in my mind as one of my more positive memories. That very same song that motivated a wet-behind-the-ear high school freshman to believe, without the slightest doubt in the face of some of his more pessimistic days that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better. I still have Graduation in my stack of dusty CDs, sandwiched somewhere in between Adele's 25 and Rick Ross' Black Market albums. I finally was able to move out a few months back and as I wiped down the shelves of my former room, consolidating some of my old song lyrics, DVDs and CDs, I took a moment to flip through the stack of discs. Finally, I came across Graduation. The spine battered, the cover blanketed with a sheet of dust, which one can conclude lost its new album luster long ago. A rush of nostalgia smacked me with the force of a freight train. The lyrics, the music video, the memories. They were all there. I nodded my head as a grin swept across the left side of my face. I felt accomplished for pushing myself into a more optimistic frame of mind and, figuratively, patted myself on the back. I became "Stronger." It was then that I realized I was living my better tomorrow.