The first Ed Sheeran song I
ever heard was “Lego House,”
way back in 2012 at the peak of
the piece’s radio fame. Before
high school, I wasn’t really
one for music; I listened to the
radio, sure, but because I didn’t
have an iPod — I didn’t have
the easy portability that most
kids my age did. In regards to
music, I was a late bloomer.
Sheeran’s voice enthralled
me. It was smoother than the
pop music I was used to hearing
on 98.7 (the local hits station)
and far easier on the ears than
the rap that I absolutely hated.
Something about the way he
drew out the word “for” right
before the chorus ramped up
made my heart swell. How
would I show off my newfound
love?
A
Facebook
like,
of
course. I clicked the button,
excited to show my love to the
world.
The next day, one of my
friends confronted me.
“Since when do you listen to
Ed Sheeran?” she asked, in a
somewhat accusatory tone.
“ ... Yesterday?” I responded,
confused.
“Why did you like him on
Facebook? You can’t do that if
you’ve only heard two of his
songs,” she continued, leaving
abruptly once she had said her
due.
Since then, I’ve been more
and more tentative about who
I share my music tastes with
and why. It sounds stupid, of
course, the age old “you’re not a
real fan unless you’ve listened
to their entire discography 69
times.” Even then, your fan-
ship is only valid if you can
stand up to impromptu quizzes
from any and all members of
the artist’s legion of fellow
fanatics. Why can’t music just
be music? Why can’t Swifties
just listen to good ol’ Taylor
in peace? Why can’t I like Ed
Sheeran on Facebook after only
listening to two of his songs?
Music is never just music.
That’s
the
problem.
To
have music, you must have
musicians, and in this day and
age, musicians are celebrities —
and celebrities are politicians,
entrepreneurs,
chefs
and
models. Telling a musician to
“stay in their lane” is futile
because musicians rarely only
have one lane — not to mention
the concept itself is usually
a bad humored attempt to
shut someone up. In regards
to the general scale of fame
and social leverage, musicians
are among the most powerful
sociocultural figures in the
modern era. Each band and solo
artist influences a tremendous
audience of listeners, some of
whom are young and especially
impressionable. If an artist
draws attention to a specific
political movement, people are
going to take notice. If an artist
doesn’t, people will notice that,
too.
With social media’s prolific
presence,
it
has
become
easier than ever for artists
to communicate with their
fans. Eat something tasty?
Tweet about it. Fly out to LA?
Instagram it. Not mentioning
something as significant as
politics has to be an intentional
oversight, and even staying
silent in such a politically-
charged
environment
is
a
statement rather than a neutral
stance.
To a certain degree, my
friend had a point. Making up
my mind about an artist after
only hearing two of his songs
was rather short-sighted. Could
I form a conclusive impression
of Ed Sheeran only from his
voice? Probably not. Maybe
the irritating sphere of music
snobs has a point. Whether you
purchase an artist’s music or
you listen to them via a music
streaming
service,
you’re
supporting them. As long as we
stay aware of what that support
entails, there’s no need to be
a music snob — love for music
isn’t something that can be
quantified in minutes.
Ed Sheeran & music snobs
SAM LU
Daily Arts Writer
MUSIC NOTEBOOK
ATLANTIC RECORDS
It’s a question that circulates
through
middle
school
sleepovers, long car rides and
uncomfortable dinner parties:
If you knew you are going to
die tomorrow, what would you
do today? For most people,
this question is just a fun party
game, something to think about
that you will never really have
to face. But for others, like Stella
Abbott (Lucy Hale, “Pretty
Little Liars”), who have their
death (supposedly) set in stone,
this question drives the daily
choices that they make, for
better or for worse.
In the case of Stella in “Life
Sentence,” it’s definitely for
worse. After eight years of
battling terminal cancer and
living her life as if each day
was her last, Stella is cured of
her disease and must face the
reality of a world that is much
harsher than she once believed.
As soon as Stella tells friends
and family that she is healthy,
her parents split up, her brother
(Jayson Blair, “Unforgettable”)
turns out to be a low-life who
impregnates married women
and
her
beautiful
British
husband (Elliot Knight, “Once
Upon A Time”) tells her that he
has only been pretending to love
all of the same things she does
because he didn’t think she’d be
around long enough to figure
out otherwise.
It’s certainly a lot to handle
at once, yet none of these
represent a main conflict in the
show. In fact, “Life Sentence”
is pretty much void of conflict
all together. How can anything
seem
so
significant
and
overwhelming to Stella after
she literally beats cancer? This
girl stared certain death in the
face for eight years and came
out alive on the other side, but
somehow we are supposed to
believe that finding out that her
husband’s favorite movie isn’t
“Love Actually” is somehow
going to push her over the edge.
And
it’s
this
equating
everyday inconveniences with
fighting
a
terminal
disease
that also raises some concern.
Dealing with cancer as both
a patient and a loved one of a
patient is painful, frustrating
and often times overwhelming.
Yet in “Life Sentence,” Stella’s
years of cancer seem as breezy
and adventurous as a study
abroad trip to Paris. “Life
Sentence” had the opportunity
to make a poignant statement on
restarting life after putting it on
hold for so long, but instead they
made cancer as easy to get over
as a common cold and directed
focus at mundane issues.
Obviously,
people
are
still allowed to have normal
problems and feelings after
surviving a tragedy, but Hale’s
quirky, boho-princess character
goes about dealing with hers
in a way that is so unlikeable
you find yourself scoffing at
everything she says or does.
Not only are Hale’s unnecessary
voiceovers sickly sweet, but her
wide-eyed innocence is more
childish than endearing. This
is essentially a coming-of-age
story for a married woman who
is well into her 20s and carries
a Danny Tanner-esque desire to
fix everyone else’s problems.
The most redeemable scene
of the show comes at the end,
and is delivered not by look-
at-how-cute-my-moped-is
Stella, but rather her Jim-
Harbaugh-looking
father
(Dylan Walsh,”Longmire”). At
a backyard family party, Mr.
Abbott breaks down, crying
out to his family that he’s been
scared everyday for the past
eight years that he was going to
lose his little girl, but knew he
had to be strong for the family
and couldn’t show that he was
hurting. It is the only instance
in “Life Sentence” in which
there is any real substance,
and
that
demonstrates
the
ugly, devastating truth about
cancer that the rest of the show
willingly skips over.
Much like its main character,
“Life Sentence” is going to need
a miracle to stay alive. While
other shows have mastered
the art of turning normal
people’s problems into exciting
and emotional shows, “Life
Sentence” just feels empty and
confused. Stella Abbott has a lot
of growing up to do, but she’s
already won one of life’s biggest,
hardest battles. The rest should
be easy, so really, there’s no
point in sticking around to find
out.
‘Life Sentence’ is a cancer
story without any conflict
SAMANTHA DELLA FERA
Daily Arts Writer
THE CW
“Life Sentence”
Series premiere
The CW
Wednesdays 9 p.m.
Much like its
main character,
“Life Sentence”
is going to need
a miracle to stay
alive
TV REVIEW
Music is never just
music. That’s the
problem
6A — Monday, March 12, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com