I celebrated my birthday this past Friday night. Although most of the night is pretty fuzzy between playing the arcade game at Wando's and singing about religion and heroin in Qdoba, I started thinking about songs that act like time machines - the songs that instantly take you back to a specific moment. I started making a list of songs that do this for me.
The first song I thought of was Hand In My Pocket"" by Alanis Morissette. I can remember exactly where I was standing in my orthodontist's office the first time I heard that song. I remember that, being a junior-higher with a discerning taste in women, I felt cheated that all my assistant hygienists were ugly. I also remember that this song sparked my obsession with female singers, an obsession that has brought me the good (Leslie Feist), the bad (Vanessa Carlton) and the ugly (Amy Winehouse).
I find it ironic that most of what I came up with were songs and groups I would never listen to now. Some great examples are the songs on the list that take me back to past relationships, like ""Rocket"" from Yellowcard, ""One Slowdance"" from Rufio or ""The Best Deceptions"" from Dashboard Confessional's second LP. That was when Dashboard Confessional was just Chris, a guitar and a messy breakup. That was when I admitted I listened to emo.
There is music I love simply because of the lyrics or the drumming or the sound in general. But there are other songs I love just because they have a specific connection to my past. A few weeks ago I wrote about going to an Okkervil River concert and how experiencing their music live changed the way I saw the music. In a sense, this column is about the exact opposite experience - how my life changes the way I experience music.
I'm sure I've heard ""All These Things That I've Done"" by the Killers a thousand times, but when I hear that song, I'm standing in some redneck bar outside of Youngstown, Ohio, shouting ""I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier"" with a dozen guys that had just come back from Iraq with me.
There are some songs I can't explain. I don't know why Wu-Tang's ""Bring Da Ruckus"" takes me to the deli counter at Woodman's. I don't have a good reason why Savage Garden's ""Two Beds and a Coffee Machine"" brings back such great feelings.
The thing is, everybody has these songs. Everyone has a song that reminds them of that one time their uncle got drunk on Mother's Day, or the time they almost lost their virginity. Weezer's ""The Sweater Song"" reminds me of getting kicked off a mini-golf course, but I'm sure it makes you think of something entirely different. So go ahead and debate this column's larger psychological meaning or its significance to the modern musical economy, I won't be paying attention. I'm going to be listening to the Wallflower's ""One Headlight.""
Upset that you'll now forever associate ""Hand in My Pocket"" with Dale's pubescent lust? E-mail your own own list to him dpmundt@wisc.edu.
