From Daydreams to Drumbeats

I think of my life in songs. Each joy and each heartache has its own score, a melody that plays on a loop in my head and guides me through the ebb and flow. Music isn't just something I pick up and put back down again—it’s a living consciousness, and it's the way I make sense of the world around me.

I had the idea for Battle Columbus in 2022 on one of my daydreaming walks. I do this a lot – disappear into what “could be” while strolling the same route every morning. One of only a few playlists repeats itself in my ears, and I take myself to a wishful place.

I’d been a volunteer for the Childhood League for nearly half a decade, helping with marketing and other communication and development tasks over the years. Each August, the League would reinvent the wheel by coming up with another new idea for our annual Merry-Go-Round fundraiser. But after one too many changes, it was time to establish an event that could last.

As I turned the corner toward the park, the first few chords of Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water” thrummed through my headphones and immediately took me to my dad’s 1997 Ford Explorer, the volume turned up as loud as it could go whenever my mom wasn’t there to object. These twelve chords are an anthem to my childhood and provoke a side of me that only few know.

Photo: Lauren and her father

Throughout my childhood, my dad would get his band together in our basement and play songs from his upbringing. I’d get up on the mic and giggle my way through the harmonies of Gene Chandler’s “Duke of Earl” then shout every verse of “Get Off of My Cloud” by the Rolling Stones. These rhythms feel mandatory in my bones now, and I carry them with me like important medical documents that might save my life.

Raised under the false guidance that any music that came after the ‘80s was rubbish, there came a time when I had to expand my musical knowledge on my own. Cue Green Day, The Cardigans, Outkast, and all the legends my dad would detest for years to come. I became obsessed with burning CDs, making “mixes” and living inside my own personal soundtrack.

As life went on, music moved from shaping my existence to keeping it intact. For me, it’s been a form of emotional expression, allowing me to convey feelings that might be difficult to articulate in words. A therapeutic property to which the students at The Childhood League Center can likely relate.

And so, on my walk that morning, I listened to these familiar songs that brought me so much stability and thought about how music could impact these impressionable and resilient students at the Childhood League Center. I thought about the purpose of the Center and felt confident that a concert-style competition could be a great way to showcase different genres of music and raise money through a more diversified audience.

If we do this right, it can’t fail.

Our first annual Battle Columbus event was a night I’ll never forget. Three bands joined our mission without question, eager to lend their talents to the cause out of good will and support for the Center’s kids. I remember feeling more nervous about my own abilities as a producer than I was for the bands taking the stage that night, but my nerves disappeared when I saw my dad. It turns out, he doesn’t hate Green Day.

As Founding Mother™, I take my role in this event very seriously. For the kids at the Childhood League Center, and for my own sanity, I proposed this idea because music is the great unifier. The goal was to bring people of all different walks of life together for a beautiful cause.

And we did.

And we will do it again, and again, and again.

Lauren

Lead Producer, Battle Columbus