The best validation doesn't come from Spotify playlists. It's 6:47 AM. I'm in the back of a black Escalade, somewhere between the afterparty and wherever I'm supposed to be next. The driver's playing electronic music—his own playlist, not the radio. Then I hear it. That bassline. Those synths. That's... that's my track. "You know this song?" I ask. He turns it up. "This right here? Fire. Been playing this all week. Artist called REGGATRONIC or something." I don't tell him. No
Music for moving through life carrying everything you feel—the hope, the hurt, the fear beneath beautiful surfaces, and the momentum that pulls you forward.
