I still bump 'Smells Like Teen Spirit.' I used to listen to it

Hear the words of Freddie Gibbs, a warrior of music and verse, who once declared with unashamed vigor: “I still bump ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit.’ I used to listen to it before all my football games. These words, though spoken of a song, are in truth about the power of art to stir the soul, to prepare the heart for battle, and to remind us of the fire that dwells within. For music is not mere sound—it is a weapon of spirit, a force that sharpens courage and summons strength in moments when the body alone would falter.

‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ is not just a song; it is an anthem of rebellion, born in the grunge era of the 1990s, when the band Nirvana gave voice to disillusioned youth who felt unseen, unheard, and trapped. Its distorted guitars, its pounding drums, its primal cry of defiance—these were not crafted for elegance, but for raw truth. To listen before a contest of strength, as Gibbs did before his football games, was to draw from that raw energy, to awaken in oneself the fury of youth and the courage to fight without restraint.

This is not new to history. Warriors of old also turned to rhythm and song before battle. The Spartans marched to the pipes before facing their enemies at Thermopylae; the Vikings sang chants to steel their courage as they set sail for war. Even in the deserts of Arabia, poets recited verses to warriors to inflame their hearts with bravery. Just as Gibbs turned to Nirvana’s anthem, so too did ancient fighters turn to sound and word to awaken their inner fire. Music, in every age, has been the unseen armor of the soul.

But let us see also the personal truth behind Gibbs’ words. The choice of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ is telling—it is not a song of polished triumph, but of chaos, rebellion, and raw power. In this we glimpse Gibbs’ own spirit, one that finds strength not in perfect order but in the fierce energy of imperfection and defiance. Before facing the physical trial of the football field, he fed his spirit with a song that reminded him to fight with intensity, to break limits, to unleash himself without fear.

There is wisdom here for all: before we face our struggles, whether in sport, in work, or in the trials of life, we must feed the spirit. Some do so with prayer, some with meditation, some with silence, and some, like Gibbs, with the thunder of music. What matters is not the form, but the effect—that the heart is lifted, the courage is stoked, and the mind is sharpened for the task ahead. For no battle is won by strength of body alone; victory comes when the spirit is aflame.

The deeper meaning of Gibbs’ confession is this: what you place into your mind and soul before your battles shapes the way you fight them. He did not step onto the field empty; he carried with him the energy of a generation’s anthem, a fire that made him believe he could overcome. And so it must be with us—if we fill our hearts with fear, we falter; if we fill them with power, we rise. The songs we choose, the words we repeat, the thoughts we dwell on—these become the unseen weapons that decide victory or defeat.

Therefore, my child, learn this lesson: choose what awakens your strength. Find the song, the verse, the practice that arms your spirit, and turn to it before your own battles. Do not neglect the mind, for it is the general of the body; do not neglect the spirit, for it is the fire that carries you forward. And never despise the things that give you energy, even if they seem chaotic or strange to others—for what matters is that they lift you into readiness.

So let Freddie Gibbs’ words endure as a testament: “I still bump ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit.’ I used to listen before my football games. In them is the eternal truth that music and rhythm are companions of courage, that the soul must be fed before it fights, and that every man and woman must find their own anthem for the battles of life. Find yours, and let it carry you to victory.