why you shouldn't play your music at the beach

an argument for keeping your personal taste, personal

Sep 01, 2024

this is my end of summer angel cake extravaganza that i wrote on my parent’s front porch in my tiger print bikini with an aperol spritz in hand, i included a bonus mini essay all the way at the bottom after the pictures- ENJOY! i hope this weekend you are eating summer produce and ice cream cones and are laying out in the sun reading a book.

these are the sounds i want to hear at the beach

the clanking of beach chairs
the thumping of volleyballs and cornhole bags
the briny endless echos of waves
the sharp papery sound of pages turning in a book
the specific type of relaxed laugher that only happens among family
the humming of airplanes carrying advertisements for oceanfront hotels and jersey blueberries and canned marinera sauce and boxed wine
the seething hiss of beer bottles being cracked open and passed around
the flapping of umbrellas triumphantly standing tall against the beach wind
my dad coming up from behind my chair and saying “hey miss ems”
the aggressive clanging of a silver bell signaling that the ice cream truck has momentarily stopped at the dune, followed by waves of pleading negotiations from kids making their case as to why they deserve ice cream at 2:47 pm (they do)
my sister turning to me and saying “pina time?” in a whimsical high-pitched tone we both inherited one from another
the cries of seagulls as they viciously circle around lunchtime hoagies
teenagers gossiping using words i have never heard before with a tinge of insecurity and trepidation that can only be detected once you are out of that phase

these are the sounds i do NOT want to hear on the beach

any and all music no matter what coming from a shitty speaker

i’ve always been anti-music on the beach, most likely because my family was never music-on-the-beach people. for the most part, i have never been that bothered by it, let people do what they want to do… this was until a few months ago. it was a sweltering saturday in july, i had clawed my way through a particularly stressful week and finally made it to my favorite place in the entire world: long beach island, nj (for any new jersey haters….. you must not have experienced the tacky, spectacular joy of a shore summer marked by gigantic jersey tomatoes, freshly churned blueberry ice cream and large slabs of fudge always in a papery box on the kitchen counter all while bruce springsteen is subtly playing off in the distance). i ambitiously packed my ll bean beach tote with 5 heavy books i definitely wouldn’t get to, located my favorite hello kitty beach towel i bought in hawaii, found a half empty bottle of sunscreen, and slipped on my flip flops that exclusively reside in the garage of my parent’s house next to rusty beach chairs and toys. i set off in my tiger print bikini up the dunes scanning for a perfect spot, it was particularly busy that day but that is to be expected in the height of summer. i found one of the only open areas, set my chair down and sat down under the blazing sun. the second i stopped to take a deep salty inhale i realized that i was surrounded by 5 speakers: one playing the beach boys, one playing a doja cat song, one playing one of those girls-trucks-beer country artists, one playing bad bunny, one playing taylor swift. back at home, i am constantly surrounded my honking and sirens and gaggles of drunk nyu students and insignificant shouting and the metal screeching of the subway- i love living amongst these sounds and i find them all quite beautiful in their own way but sometimes i just need to be reminded what silence is, i think we all do.

i tried to tune the clashing music out, i tried moving my chair to a different area only end up being closer to another speaker playing a frat remix of country roads. i texted in various group chats asking what people’s stance on music at the beach is- these were the main responses summarized

pro: the second i get to the beach i make a circle, put a speaker in the center and then start throwing a frisbee. THAT’S how you do the beach. (this is the general consensus from boys… boys have a hard time sitting still at the beach)
neutral: i like music at the beach, but i make sure no one else can hear it. i also only play good music. (this is the correct and most thoughtful stance… but in my experience being at many a beach (on the east coast specifically), someone will always hear your music even if you think they can’t)
anti: just listen to nature’s spotify playlist……. the ocean……. (it seems the only people who feel this way are me and my sister)

my stance on playing music at the beach is that your music taste is subjective, no matter how “good” you think it is or how highly you think of yourself there will always be someone else who would rather listen to a top 40 song or an unreleased soundcloud track. unsurprisingly, i think of the beach as a sacred, holy place and i also deem it to be a democratic space. one of the biggest philosophies i preach is that everyone deserves to enjoy the beach: the toddler building sandcastles, the leathery grandfather baking in the sun, the teenagers sprawled on towels together, large circles of extended family reunions all deserve to have a magical, sparkly, sweat-drenched day that reminds them why they trudge through biting east coast winters ever year. it might sound dramatic, but i truly think that blaring music at the beach is a sign of disrespect for your fleeting beach neighbor, the lack of community had never been more potent to me than on the 4th street beach on that sticky saturday.

my anti-music-at-the-beach campaign has made me think a lot about how we push our taste onto others and how little we respect individual opinions; fall is ominously approaching as more and more leaves lying dormant on the sidewalks which means objective stances on taste and trends are about to flood our inboxes, feeds and newsstands. i am just waiting for the tik tok videos debating whether or not the adidas samba is officially “over” for fall and the articles that will inevitably blare on my screen that have titles like “the 10 chocolate brown sneakers everyone will be wearing” and “navy is having a moment: 10 items to add to your closet this fall”. this type of content does well because it is preached by creators and news outlets that understand how fragile our personal taste is. even the most confident seeming person is most likely only self-assured because their taste is universally accepted by others. take fashion for example, even divisive sartorial choices like margiela tabis which seem contrarian to the masses are always resoundingly accepted by the fashion people.

taste in all aspects is subjective yet it is often presented as objective, but i do believe we should all feel empowered by own our opinions and stances. to be able to luxuriously bathe in the choices you make without the influence of others will inherently build the world you want to live in… what a gift! the ability to choose what music you listen to, the movies you watch and clothes you wear is one of the most self-assuring, powerful ways to create an ironclad relationship with yourself that no one else can ever truly understand. have enough conviction in that relationship to feel confident enough to not thrust it upon the world thinking that others will feel the same because of your conflated sense of importance. don’t play your music on the beach.

HAPPY END OF SUMMER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! as a bonus here’s something short i wrote about how i had a kind of weird summer- i was going to publish as a standalone but i think it fits nicely here as a little epilogue, if you’re sick of me yapping about myself, i understand and see you next week :)

i said i was going to have a brat summer……. i don’t think that i did. i still went out and had fun and giggled and met new friends and wore a white tank top with no bra and smoked cigarettes with a bic lighter but it was all underpinned by a tightness in my chest a slightly negative tinged perspective. i was stressed about moving apartments, about being able to afford it and the decision paralysis about the 82985789325 things i had to commit to. questions like, “is this the right rug for the space? are these pillows too expensive? do i really need a dutch oven? should i buy a stovetop kettle or an electric kettle? will this flatware eventually tarnish?” filled my head until i couldn’t make the simplest decisions like what to have for dinner or what tv show to start. i don’t think i even realized how much the different areas of my life that were stressing me out slowly bled into every aspect of my being, i felt more overwhelmed than usual, was down on myself for not being able to confidently do things like replace a curtain rod by myself or build a table without assistance. i am a deeply independent person (to a fault), i hate asking for help which made me feel upset when i couldn’t do things on my own with ease and feel defeated when i had to tap in my friends to help or pay expensive task rabbit fees… angelina herself found me trying to haul a tv console up 6 flights of stairs in our apartment building and scolded me for trying to do it myself (in my defense, it was a really hot day and she had a date later than night and i didn’t want her to be sweaty). i moved into my own apartment, a milestone i have always longingly dreamed of, but what i didn’t forsee that it would be difficult be when there is no one to help you hang a piece of art or tie the back of your top or be there for when the super needs to fix your oven. these are all silly things i am aware, but it added to the disappointment in that i can’t do it all… or maybe that it was a lot harder to do it all alone.

two summers ago i spontaneously decided to get a tattoo on my arm that said “lighten up!” i booked the appointment in brooklyn way too close to when i was supposed to catch a bus in times square that would take me to my parent’s house at the beach. instead of feeling stressed as i would now, i remember running through times square with my suitcase rolling behind me and ink still wet on my arm and laughing as i dodged tourists and tired sesame street characters passing out flyers. the impetus of that specific tattoo choice came from a conversation i had with a family friend about my experience in college, she asked me if there was anything i would change about my undergrad career and i replied, “honestly, i really wish i just lighted up… everything worked out”. whenever i reflect on a how i handled decisions or difficult periods of my life, i always regret how rigid i felt. i am a naturally anxious and optimistic person. these two sides of myself despise each other, anxiety feeds on pessimism and fear which is completely at odds with my innate belief that Everything Will Be Okay and Life is Beautiful. anxiety is Bad, but it also motivates me to be my best, i am terrified of the person i would be without it. these two sides of me create an insidious concoction that coats my gut instincts and makes it impossible for me to trust myself.

i used to feel a drop in my stomach at the first sign of a fallen leaf on the sidewalk, but this year i feel calmed by the changing of the season. maybe it’s because my friends and i have already filled our fall weekends with dinner parties and apartment parties and weekends upstate and restaurant reservations and movies we want to see and halloween costume ideas, all which make the blow of losing the endless sweltering days spent reading an entire book, a bit more manageable. maybe it’s because the insignificant moments where you have a laugh with a roommate have been replaced by the insignificant moments where i run into angelina at the end of the day in our building and we get to chat in person like we haven’t been chatting in 5 other group chats all day long. maybe it’s because i felt so stressed this summer that a part of my optimistic brain believes that i will feel undeniably more settled this fall. for whatever reason, i feel a bit more like the girl running through times square with a new tattoo beaming at how beautiful life can be when you just finally chill the fuck out.

XOXOXOXOXO

after i publish this i am going to bike to the market in my bathing suit and put my groceries in my little basket and have my last outdoor shower of the summer.

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!