Good music and good songs can take a sad mood to a happy one and vice versa. The sounds and rhythm can jack up the energy or mellow one out. And no doubt songs and albums can transport you across memories, especially when so specifically tied to events in one's life. (Perhaps, too, the band No Doubt carries that ability, if it suits the soul.)
Song or album, artist or band, these might not even be related to the first time in hearing the piece of music, though those occurrences are special, too. Memories of music can range from all sorts of events; from a concert with friends to late-night parties, heartbreak and love, and as far (and simple) as the days driving around in a car, jostling loose hidden memories from youth.
A catchy song may stick with you for days or years, whether they are good, annoying, campy, or anywhere in between. There's a reason jingles stick with a person like an annoying itch in the middle of the back that can't be bothered to be scratched. Or lyrics can randomly pop into the head, out of nowhere and years removed from popularity or familiarity.
Music, the fantastic, brilliant and beyond, finds ways to stand the test of time. Songs often played over and over again, day or night. Albums on repeat, giving over to the story telling of 10-15 songs to sway to and learn from. Above all else, sending the listener back in time to memories attached to the soul, forever linked between the bars.
*To be clear, the discussion below is not intended to be a complete journey of my music tastes. The idea is to bring forth a handful of songs/musicians/etc. that evoke something in me to this day, and hopefully bring to you a recognition of songs personal to you that may affect you in some way.
Rock on
Rock and Pop music span a vast genre, with a multitude of subgenres layered to elicit emotional responses. Was I child who rocked out with exponential delight? Probably not, unless running into a room whenever The Muppet Show theme played counts.
There are artists and bands I was raised on I still love/like/dislike to this very day. Naturally, memories span decades, whether rocking to the Huey Lewis and the News album Sports on a road trip with my dad to softball tournament or singing "We Didn't Start the Fire" on the same trip.
And it can be as simple as the vinyl albums of Cat Stevens, The Beatles, and Simon and Garfunkel played by mom in the family living room.
Of course, too, there are oddities mixed in, like when hearing "Bad Medicine" by Jon Bon Jovi or "Born to be Wild" by Steppenwolf. Both take me back to Friday and Saturday nights in the high school gym, where the Elko High School Pep band blasted both as I watched my dad coach high school basketball games (and being able to follow the team out of the locker room, even at an early age, was something that gave me chills).
Somewhere around this time is when (as memory serves) I received my first actual grown-up cassette tape, when Michael Jackson's Bad appeared in my Christmas stock. It must have been around the same era in which I possessed Whitesnake's self-titled album, with such hits as "Still of the Night", "Is This Love" and "Here I Go Again" (a song that I've always joked haunts me, because after losses in my life, love or otherwise, I tend to hear this song randomly after going years without hearing it).
Songs off the Dead Presidents soundtrack (artists include Isaac Hayes, Aretha Franklin, Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, Marvin Gaye, and James Brown, to name a few) take me back to later high school years, listening to the CD on repeat. And Brown's songs, these days, remind me of the chance in getting to see him live in concert, close friends by my side.
I truly began to really appreciate music in college. And college is where many music memories tie to. To this day, hearing "Piano Man" draws me back in to those parties where friends would close the night in a circle, drunk and swaying to the soulful sounds of Billy Joel.
Of course, there are also memories I wish I could forget. Like the former boss who decided to sing "follow the wiener down" in the song "Seeing Red" by Unwritten Law (rather than the correct "follow the leader down").
Rock and Pop, with all its offshoots and branches, collectively could fill up an entire book of my life, especially as it bleeds over into the next category in this post.
Love & Heartbreak
Love songs, sad songs. Ballads to make you cry, swoon, and dance to; to reminisce on and reflect upon in so many ways.
In this regard, even with a widespread range of emotions, I am not only speaking of relationships involving romantic love, loss, and heartbreak, but those dealing with family and friends as well. (The good times, the bad times, and so on.)
A little of this was discussed in a post about Ben Folds a few months back. And Folds has many songs spanning his albums that are tied to specific memories of my life.
The ache of a love song hit me at an early age, involving a song I'd forgotten about for upwards of 12 years. It wasn't until the great Lochlyn Munro sang the song "At This Moment" by Billy Vera in the film Duets in which I was reminded of being in the second or third grade and hearing this song and being sad for some reason. Was it very youthful heartache? A dream of finding a great love? I cannot tell you.
(To venture on a side journey, in writing this post, I learned that the song was featured heavily in the sitcom Family Ties. So, maybe I heard it back in the day more often that I remember).
Elliott Smith contributes much more to my music aesthetic than simply belonging in this category but there is a certain sadness tied to heartache. Smith first caught me when hitting the mainstream with the Good Will Hunting soundtrack. Then, my love for him grew. The first album I bought of his was XO, at a now defunct record store in Boise, Idaho (a record store I cannot remember the name of, as I was new to the city, but remember walking downstairs to get to it, in downtown Boise). Most times I play this CD, I think back to that day and that store.
Smith also contributed to Sad Sunday mixes over the years, in which time was reflected on lost loves, lost opportunities, and potential partners. Music that also included the stylings of Tom Waits, another favorite who sits with me in a variety of ways.
To top it off, American Hi-Fi, Sheryl Crow, Mazzy Star, the Avett Brothers, Daft Punk, Ben Harper, Joshua Radin, Third Eye Blind, and Band of Horses are among the plethora of musicians and bands who have provided the backdrop for love and heartbreak over the years.
Music in this category tends to lean to the sad side of things but is tied to happy memories. And there's always the next category to balance things out, if needed.
Shout out to the Rap Gods
Once mentioned in an earlier post regarding Dr. Dre and the Detox album, I really began to dig into Rap music in the ninth grade. Prior, the top hits of Vanilla Ice, Kriss Kross, and MC Hammer filled my brain, owning the cassettes of each. And the Beastie Boys fighting for their right to party kept me alert. And there was point in the late elementary school where I was introduced to 2 Live Crew and the song "One and One" during a winter afternoon outing with friends.
But to this day, when I hear Snoop Dogg's "Gin and Juice", I am transported back to hearing that song in the bleachers while waiting for a basketball game to start. Thus, beginning my true love of rap music.
Taste in the genre grew, digging into its origins and style (which was still somewhat fresh at the time, Hip-Hop even now celebrating only its 50th anniversary). The poetry and lyrics by these stars of the 1990s could lift me out of a sad mood, mostly in part because listening got me to rap along. The energy and enthusiasm helped brighten my mood, if only temporarily.
The multitude of Rap and Hip-Hop artists enjoyed over the years means the memories run deep. There's 2pac's "Changes", bringing forth the time a good friend and I listened to this song on repeat in my car while a party we were attending raged on in a nearby house. We sat there on the cold night, discussing the storytelling and impact of the song; a memory I look back on with fondness.
The same can be said, too, about the song "Slump" by Outkast and its accompanying album Aquemini. Music that stands the test of time and takes me back to a night in the late 90s, home on college break and a good evening spent with friends from my high school days.
Eminem burst onto the scene when I was in college, so there is an attachment to whenever I hear "My Name Is", taking me back to a dorm room, watching the music video at all times of day. And, to a lesser extent, the memory of buying The Slim Shady LP at the local Circuit City. (There is also something intriguing and nostalgic about tying memories to establishments that no longer have retail stores).
Many of Eminem's albums, when listened to in the present day, have my mind drifting to specific instances where his music filled my ears. Long drives, playing The Eminem Show on repeat. And The Marshall Mathers LP 2, once blasting in my car on my way to work overnight shifts at Toys "R" Us.
The list of Hip-Hop and Rap music tied to specific instances in my life is a long one. While I remain stuck in the past in many ways with this genre, I do venture into the newer artists on occasion. But there is comfort in the music of yesteryear, as it were, especially when it comes to the likes of Jay Z, Biggie, the Wu-Tang Clan, and many, many more.
The intricacies of music and memories are woven together, fine-tuned and played on repeat. Though personal to me, I hope this post has you digging into your own music personal history. What musicians and/or songs evoke specific memories for you? Feel free to comment, whether those artists and bands, songs and albums are mainstream or not. Because who knows, sharing music not known to some may eventually provide a memory for others. A memory to be absorbed for a lifetime.
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