Songs that have shaped me

By: Lukas Earl Summerfield

Each of the tracks below represents a piece of my heart tied to someone who’s left their fingerprints on my life— those people who have played an incontrovertible role in shaping who I am today. From the opening rhythms of each song, the memories flood back of moments that changed me in ways big and small. This isn't just a playlist, it's my thank you letter to everyone who's played a part in my story.

Wildflowers — Tom Petty 

When I was debating where to start, I knew I had to include an ode to my mom and her love for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. My passion for music is coded in her genes. Growing up, she always had the radio on as we played card games or as she tended to the various gardens that surrounded my childhood home. My mom raised her three kids with some very particular rules — one being our basketball court wasn't to be used when the magnolia tree was blooming. Its branches crept onto the court, and far too often the basketball would knock countless petals to the ground. Another was how we were never allowed to eat breakfast after 10 a.m. in order to disincentivize my siblings and I from sleeping in too late. And finally: When Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers came on, we knew never to reach for the dial, but rather to simply just sit back and enjoy it.

Lady (Hear Me Tonight) — Modjo

This is a timeless classic that makes me break out dancing wherever I am. It’s the kind of song that turns your feet to wings while you skip and turn and jump. I remember sitting at a bar with friends talking about life, a typical Friday for 20-somethings living in a big city. Music ties most of my friendships together, and that night, per usual, we were deep in conversation about what music we have been listening to lately. My friend, Shane, looked at us and said something in the realm of, "I would love to find a song that matches the energy that Lady by Modjo does." But that's the thing about this song: It's one of a kind. Finding anything that matches its energy and funk would be like getting hit by lightning, twice.

Your Love is King — Sade

I played the euphonium from ages nine to eighteen. I was a member of the pep band, honors band, marching band, and orchestra. Even so, my favorite was always jazz band. The concept and execution of spontaneous, rhythmic, sophisticated fusion that jazz creates is equal parts lively and infectious. So, when an artist like Sade — already a personal favorite of mine — decides to merge jazz with R&B, it awakens that same joy I felt sitting in the jazz band room.

Lost in The World — Kanye West, Bon Iver

The album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy holds memories I can't erase. When my brother turned 16, he drove a 2000 Ford Focus hatchback. Too old for an aux cord, the clunker only supported CDs. Being true to his Millennial roots – and me following his lead as any devoted younger sibling would– we scoured the local stores for CDs. Naturally, MBDTF was our first purchase. We must have played that album what felt like hundreds of times, front to back. Those drives with my brother, both of us pulsing with every beat and verse, is what I’ll remember — not Kanye’s more recent actions, but rather those pure moments of connection through music with someone I love. Sometimes beautiful art comes from complicated people, and we can't just ignore their wrongs. What we can hold onto is what their work meant to us in better times.

Snowing all at once — Racing Mount Pleasant (formerly Kingfisher)

This one goes out to all my newfound Chicago community. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing RMP in concert twice since moving to the city in 2022. Like many of my friends, some of the members of RMP are from Ann Arbor, Michigan. The first time I heard this particular song, I was surrounded by five of my dearest friends. The set was hosted in the attic of Chicago’s Epiphany Center for the Arts, a renovated church constructed in 1885. During this song’s bridge, it feels like you are standing, suspended in each crescendo. I found myself tearing up. It was raw. It was expressive. Surrounded by the community that I had leaned on at my darkest times, I was overcome with emotions. It’s a song that reminds me to be resilient through all the ups and downs in life, and to never regret any mistakes, but rather to learn from them. To this day, it remains the best live music set I’ve been to. 

Stay Gold — Stevie Wonder

Stevie made “Stay Gold” for the soundtrack for the film The Outsiders, a film adaptation of the book that my immediate family has consumed so many times that it’s become a little obsessive. But the reason for its inclusion in this list is to share Robert Frost’s poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” I find myself going back and reading this poem during my ongoing dance with anxiety, as it describes the importance of impermanence and evolving as people.

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

Palisades — Childish Gambino (Donald Glover)

This list wouldn't be complete without Childish Gambino. Donald Glover is truly a 21st-century Renaissance man. Everything he touches turns to gold, carving out successful careers as a comedian, actor, filmmaker, and musician. My brother introduced me to Gambino back in 2013. I remember huddling around his iPod Touch or the household PC that sat in our family room, watching Gambino’s captivating music videos for hours on end, trying to memorize his lyrics like they were times tables in grade school. My siblings and I have tried to see him live twice now. In 2018, we had tickets for his Seattle show, but he broke his foot performing in Dallas just five nights before. Then, in 2024, we were ready to try again, only to have him cancel most of his tour dates due to health issues. But our love for his music hasn't wavered. If — ideally, when — we finally get to see him live, the delayed gratification is sure to make it all the more special for us.

Memory Box — Peter Cat Recording Co.

Memory Box, with its tapestry of longing and vulnerability, has become the soundtrack to the shared dreams of my college roommates and I. The song reminds me of late nights in our tasteful apartment — a surprisingly well-curated space with a Matisse print on the wall and a well-maintained fiddle leaf fig tree — musing about our dream to reconnect in an isolated commune. We’ve talked for hours about raising our kids together, growing our own food, and building an ecovillage of love and community. Just as the song's lively instrumentation intertwines with its introspective lyrics, our conversations are moved by our dreams. I can still see that shared vision so clearly: a place where we all live side by side, creating the kind of interdependent lives the song speaks of. It has become our anthem, as it highlights vulnerability and connection — the foundation of my relationship with my friends.

Landslide — Fleetwood Mac 

This song means everything to my family. My mother, in particular, has an indelible tie to it. Stevie Nicks said she wrote the track in just five minutes while looking at the mountains in Aspen, Colorado, but its impact on us has lasted far longer. I can't remember a time when this song wasn't part of our lives. When Stevie's soft, tender vocals appear in the song, they mirror my mom's aura, the same warmth and vulnerability she carries with her. My mom always lets us know how much she loves us when it comes on, and half the time it moves her to tears. To her, it feels like the song tells her story: a first-generation college graduate raising three kids and building a successful career, but always, always being Mom first. She's made countless sacrifices to get us where we are today, and for that, I will forever carry my appreciation for her. Love you, Mom.