From the Editor’s Desk: Music (Premium)

In Look What You Made Me Do (Premium), I described a previously unthinkable shift from a Sonos Beam soundbar to a pair of Apple HomePod speakers for our TV. It's a long write-up for what some may think is a relatively unimportant product choice. But it was going to be much longer: This event hits on an incredible range of topics that are central to my personal and professional lives, and there's so much more to discuss.

Untangling all that is difficult, but it occurred to me as I poured out the words in that article that this isn't really about TV. It's about music. It's the reason I experimented with Sonos in the first place and then eventually went all in. Music isn't logical, it's emotional. It's also personal, at least to me, one measure of the passage of time, and an important way I mark some of my life's biggest milestones.

Music isn't the only trigger for this sort of thing. Old photos trigger more precise memories in my brain. As do familiar smells. But there is something uniquely powerful about music. Just hearing the first few notes of a favorite song immediately sends my mind racing back to a specific place, time, and event.

This isn't a secret. It's not new information. But as my background discontent with a particular technology over many years bubbled to the surface in a series of coincidental events and then grew into a cacophony of noise and worry that I couldn't ignore any longer, I suddenly realized there was something deeper underlying all this. I had spent so much time, effort, and money trying to solve problems with a set of products that were getting in my way instead of doing their freaking job. And that thing they were making more difficult to enjoy matters to me.

It's always mattered.

I've loved music my entire life. Some of my earliest memories are about music. I remember my mother singing to me. Listening to my first album, Won't You Be My Neighbor? by Mister Rogers, which was released in 1967, the year after I was born, and includes songs like I'd Like To Be Like Mom & Dad, Going To Marry Mom, and I Like You As You Are. My stepdad's record collection, which was packed with influential music by The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Doors, and so many others.

That grounding was important. When I grew up, we all listened to music from our era, but also music from the previous decades. I didn't distinguish between now and then, as I know my kids do: Good music is just good music. I feel like younger generations have lost that.

My first job was at a caterer in Roslindale, a suburban neighborhood in Boston that's two towns over from Dedham, where I grew up. I was too young to drive, and my parents made it clear that I was on my own in that regard. So I would take the bus, which drove by my house, and passed the time by listening to the radio on a little Walkman. I've always had a mixed relationship with radio—it was the best way to discover new music, but I also preferred listening to specifi...