iPod Time Machine
Today's hot take: I like music
So many of my memories from childhood, my teenage years, early adulthood, and now (as I approach *gulp* middle age) are tied to specific songs. A long, long time ago I can still remember my parents driving us back to the apartment I lived in from ages four to six while Don McLean's "American Pie" played on the radio. I made sure to wait in the car for all 8 minutes and 42 seconds to end before going inside. I don't remember almost anything from that apartment, where we were coming from, what I did after I got inside, but that almost nine minutes plays like a video seared into my brain whenever I want.
I recall waking up in the middle of the night and hearing "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" for the first time (I used to sleep with the radio on). I frantically ran to the bus stop in the morning to see if anyone knew what song I heard based on my dreamlike recollection of lyrics.
There was the dark weekday morning while I was being driven to high school and the chills I felt upon my first listen of "Jesus Christ" by Brand New.
Honestly, I could sit here and list dozens, if not hundreds, of experiences like this. I can go through my music library and probably name where I was and the mood I was in for at least half of the songs. That is how powerful music is to me.
Music also has the power to bridge generations. I've always been well-versed in, and enamored by, many bands, albums, and songs that came out well before I was born. That has always given me a leg up when building relationships with those older than me. Being able to discuss and cite the albums and lyrics of Fleetwood Mac, Steely Dan, and Bob Dylan made it easier to connect with the parents of my friends, older coworkers, and even managers. As a bonus, when I could name every song on the album "The Stranger" by Billy Joel, I was able to shut up a bar regular and started getting bigger tips.
Songs act as a aural time machine. Some songs I listen to are linked strongly to people I've known. Hearing them allows me to see those people in my mind that I don't often see, or will never see again.
Whenever I desire I can be driving around town with my friend right after he was dumped by his high school sweetheart while we blast "Somebody That I Used To Know."
I can relive sharing the song "My Blue Heaven" by Taking Back Sunday with a girl from my 10th grade class on my iPod (each of us with one earbud in—very mid-2000s vibes) the day before she tragically died.
I can go back to the moment I was biking and the song “With Me" by Sum 41 came on and I realized I had fallen in love with my girlfriend. Naturally, that song was played at our wedding.
All of these memories and experiences are foundational to who I am as a person. Others may cherish an item the received, a place visited, or a holiday spent with someone. Those are all nice, but if you share a musical experience with me, you'll be inside of my brain forever.
Music also lets you know who someone is as a person. People don't often share their most intimate selves to you through words, but you can tell who someone is by the songs they want to share with you. Do they listen to a lot of nu metal? Run. Do they listen to a lot of Elliott Smith? Give them the number to the suicide hotline. Do they still listen to R Kelly in 2025? Suspect.
Receiving and sharing mix CDs back in the day was the ultimate experience. Aside from the great benefit of hearing new music you might not otherwise have heard, you also got to form an intense bond with another person.
A little background for you younger folks, giving someone a mix CD was like sharing a playlist except you had to go on LimeWire and find songs to download. Then you had to use a computer program and a writeable disk drive to get the songs onto a physical disk. If that disk got scratched, God help you. More background, LimeWire was kind of like Spotify, except it was free, songs were never labeled correctly, and 20% of what you downloaded gave your computer digital syphilis. I guess I should also explain what a computer is just in case. A computer is like a phone, but bigger, and it sits on a desk. Now, some background for you older people, a mix CD was basically a mixed tape, but you didn't have to wait for WZY103.4 to play "Welcome to the Jungle" in order to make it.
Attending concerts can also be a transcendent experience, if in the right venue. There's something special about being up close to an artist you care about as they sing the songs that mean the world to you. Shows in bars and small clubs are my favorite, but an arena or amphitheater can still offer a lot. Just this year I saw my favorite band play their first show after a long hiatus. I drove 700 miles by myself to get there. I ended up going alone, but instantly met four like-minded people in line to share the experience with.
What are some songs that you have deep memories of? Perhaps you had a concert experience that changed your life. Maybe you were tripping balls on shrooms and a song had new meaning. Let me know in the comments. Also please feel free to share a playlist you have that means a lot to you.
As a bonus, please enjoy the below playlist that I spent way too much time making a few years back.
The entire Me, Myself, and Irene soundtrack brings back great memories for me. (And I don’t even think I ever watched the movie?)
Most of my music taste comes from your influence… so thank you. I’ll never forget the best Mix CD Ever made: “Mom’s Monster Mix”.
I remember many nights listening to Tik Tok by Kesha while scream singing and dancing with family. Those were the days!