Music is the most visceral form of self-expression; nothing touches the soul quite like a song can. Yet this beautiful art form has been stratified and commercialized as a result of a money-centric industry. This stratification has corrupted the joy and freedom that music can provide, making victims not only of artists, but listeners too, who are forced to try and find a box to fit into: genres.

My music taste is vast, and I pride myself on that. My Spotify liked songs playlist is only a measly 4,500 songs, and I try to grow it every day. However, this mindset was hardly present during my angsty tween years when I subjected myself to listening exclusively to Panic! At The Disco, fun., “Steven Universe’s” soundtrack and AJR — truly the finest taste, I know.

For years, I had the same six mediocre albums on repeat. With little interest in expanding my music taste, I was content with replaying the same slop every day and arrogant enough to diss anyone who listened to anything different from me — especially country. I was genrephobic.

That sentiment is hardly unique; people often express disdain for specific genres, with country, rap and metal being some of the most polarizing genres.

While I now view this perspective as closed-minded and limiting, it’s not the individual listener’s fault; it’s the fault of a music industry that organizes music into rigid genres, markets to specific demographics, creates entertainment silos that few can step outside of and stifles artists’ creative expression.

For example, pop music’s current obsession with finding the next “Pop Diva” has created a template for women in the music industry to strive to be. Instead of individuality, the music markets gravitate toward what’s familiar to them with little deviation from the status quo, resulting in a pile of sloppy reheated nachos from the likes of Dixie D’Amelio, Gracie Abrams and Tones And I.

Genres don’t only categorize music, they corral listeners. Pop fans, indie fans, rock fans: each group is cultivated. Algorithms on streaming platforms reinforce these boundaries, feeding listeners more of what they already know and enjoy. People who have little to no desire to push their musical boundaries are not encouraged to do so, and instead sink into a comfortable loop where their taste is largely determined by marketing campaigns rather than genuine curiosity.

My 12-year-old self felt overwhelmingly comfortable sticking to the same handful of bands, only venturing out into the vast musical landscape by consuming content from bands with sounds adjacent or almost equivalent to what I was already familiar with — going from listening to Panic! to listening to Mother Mother to Neon Trees.

It wasn’t until I was an avid social media user that I was exposed to a different side of the music industry — one where independent artists were promoting themselves through Instagram Reels and TikToks. I vividly remember watching a Reel from pop-soul band Lawrence promoting their song “Freckles,” which sent me tumbling down a rabbit hole and introduced me to a new genre of music for the first time.

While the song is by no means a filet mignon, it marked a turning point in my music taste. From one decent song that graced my feed, I began to fully immerse myself in indie-funk and soul music from Lawrence, Lake Street Dive, Sammy Rae & The Friends, Couch, The Dip and Melt.

And yes, Spotify did allow me to find many of my favorite artists, but I also engaged with existing online communities, such as r/listentothis on Reddit, filled with people who want to find and recommend new music. Even while I was in the midst of leaving my emo-pop-listening era behind for soul, I tapped into alternative and indie rock, jazz, classical and grunge, finally leaving my genrephobia behind.

Since then, my appreciation for different genres has only grown. Indie rock bands like almost monday, Pretoria, Greer, The Doozers and Dogpark are constantly blasting through my headphones with an addictive garage-grown nostalgic sound. Funk bands like Fat Night, Busty and the Bass, Vulfpeck and Oh He Dead keep me coming back for more with their intricate arrangements and jazzy melodies.

The final nail in my genrephobic coffin was finally coming around to country music. For someone born and raised in the Lone Star State, it should’ve come sooner, but it wasn’t until I heard the lush, velvety singing voice of Orville Peck on “C’mon Baby, Cry” that I understood what people like about the genre.

But the sounds that feel the most special and alive to me are from unique projects that transcend genre. Albums like “Meet Me After Practice” by Boys Go To Jupiter, “LONESTAR” by Dreamer Boy, “Due North” by Liam Kazar and “Metamorphosis Complete” by Infinity Song have a cohesive and distinguishable sound that not only blends elements of various genres but also creates new sounds for an unforgettable listening experience.

Genres can help organize the immeasurable amount of music that exists, but they can also impose unnecessary borders on fans and artists. Music at its best is the purest form of self-expression and human interconnectedness; however, the existence of genres can sometimes degrade that.

Some people may feel content with never stepping outside of their musical comfort zone, and that’s okay. But there is so much more emotion and musicality to experience if people are willing to take a chance on what might be unfamiliar to them at first. So many artists have told powerful stories through their work; it’s up to listeners to open their hearts and ears and stumble onto something extraordinary they never knew they needed.

“Jam Journal” is a rotating column featuring a new Daily Trojan editor in each installment, commenting on the music most important to them. Aden Max Juarez is an Arts & Entertainment editor at the Daily Trojan.