Sound of Music
Everybody has songs that they associate with a certain time and place. Or at least I think everyone does. I do. Which must mean everyone does!
It’s not just “oh, this song was on the radio when I was in college.” I can specifically picture my dorm room, or the section of road I was on when I heard it, what car I was driving, or what I was feeling.
When I was in college a friend was asking everyone what their earliest radio memory was . . . the first song they could consciously remember hearing on the radio. His was Angel of the Morning. Most people couldn’t tell him their earliest memory, but I consciously remember hearing Celebration, by Kool and the Gang (who have showed up twice in three blog posts now) while sitting in the back seat of my parents’ car. I was probably about four. Celebrate good times . . . come on!
“I like this song,” I piped up.
My parents laughed.
Even though this is my earliest radio memory, I don’t immediately get taken back there when I hear Celebration. But I’m listening to the Garden State soundtrack right now. (I purchased this soundtrack in an attempt to introduce myself to music other than what is played on the radio, as well as to try to be cool. Because I’m so not, when it comes to music. One of my presets is an AM station that plays songs from the 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s . . . but not rockin’ songs. Mostly songs like Angel of the Morning . . . a lot of melodramatic weepiness. Which I love and can’t get enough of. There'll be no chains to bind your hands/if my love can't bind your heart . . .)
But . . . even though I’ve had this CD for less than a year, I’ve got my associations. When I play it, I get taken back to my office five or six months ago.
My office five or six months ago didn’t look much different than my office does now. I was here, by myself. But it still feels different. What was happening, what I was thinking about. The way the sunlight came through the windows in October and November. The way the music struck me then. It doesn’t strike me the same way anymore, but I still love it, because it brings back the feeling.
Maybe some music is meant for a particular time and place. Or it just gets so tied to that place, that time, that feeling that there’s no untwining them.
It’s not just “oh, this song was on the radio when I was in college.” I can specifically picture my dorm room, or the section of road I was on when I heard it, what car I was driving, or what I was feeling.
When I was in college a friend was asking everyone what their earliest radio memory was . . . the first song they could consciously remember hearing on the radio. His was Angel of the Morning. Most people couldn’t tell him their earliest memory, but I consciously remember hearing Celebration, by Kool and the Gang (who have showed up twice in three blog posts now) while sitting in the back seat of my parents’ car. I was probably about four. Celebrate good times . . . come on!
“I like this song,” I piped up.
My parents laughed.
Even though this is my earliest radio memory, I don’t immediately get taken back there when I hear Celebration. But I’m listening to the Garden State soundtrack right now. (I purchased this soundtrack in an attempt to introduce myself to music other than what is played on the radio, as well as to try to be cool. Because I’m so not, when it comes to music. One of my presets is an AM station that plays songs from the 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s . . . but not rockin’ songs. Mostly songs like Angel of the Morning . . . a lot of melodramatic weepiness. Which I love and can’t get enough of. There'll be no chains to bind your hands/if my love can't bind your heart . . .)
But . . . even though I’ve had this CD for less than a year, I’ve got my associations. When I play it, I get taken back to my office five or six months ago.
My office five or six months ago didn’t look much different than my office does now. I was here, by myself. But it still feels different. What was happening, what I was thinking about. The way the sunlight came through the windows in October and November. The way the music struck me then. It doesn’t strike me the same way anymore, but I still love it, because it brings back the feeling.
Maybe some music is meant for a particular time and place. Or it just gets so tied to that place, that time, that feeling that there’s no untwining them.
posted by Melanie at 3:27 PM
