Growing up, it was pretty standard to have ""Seinfeld"" blaring on the television at certain times. When I was young, I liked Kramer because he had a funny name and George wore a fanny pack sometimes, so the show had me at Scene 1.
Before the finale of the show, ""The Chronicle,"" Jerry recognizes the fact that his show has been airing for nine years, and if you count up the experiences they've had, it amounts to countless instances of the joys and problems life brings us.
Jerry and his friends must be sending us some kind of message. The significance of this montage to me is the fact that it's set to the ""Superman"" theme song. As Jerry's favorite superhero, it's only fitting that nine years of such a culturally relevant show is remembered through scenes of super proportions.
The final montage of ""Seinfeld"" of course features other music by Michael Jackson and the cliché ""Good Riddance"" by Green Day. It was the end of an era, and it was appropriately celebrated with everything from Kramer walking a rooster down the street to Elaine being pissed at Jerry.
How is music so essential in marking moments in time? I'd call you a huge liar if you told me you'd never been asked to name a song that would be on the soundtrack to your life. I hate answering that question, but really I can't help but think how we mature and become constructional listeners and critics of music. Music can't help but define our lives.
Describing our lives from ""Party Rock Anthem"" to ""America"" by Simon & Garfunkel, the lens through which we view and scrutinize music is directly correlated with our crazy, stupid, brilliant lives.
One of my favorite things about how music is shared today is that it's so easy to send something along to anyone with the line ""I think you'll like this."" It creates a conversation that has a power in and of itself to stir as much emotion as a song can evoke. What a great feeling it is to know that passing music on wraps you up in the experience digital music and its effect on audiences.
I get pretty frightened when thinking of time passing. Often it leads to some minor (and probably overdramatic) existential thoughts and a wave of anxiety that only subsides when I give myself a dose of reality. Time goes on and like the ""Seinfeld"" montage, the memories we have impact the present.
Music has a special quality for me that makes me think and obsess. I'm often overwhelmed by music; I never think I can keep up. But after a while I've learned that it's not about keeping up with what is leaked first and what Pitchfork has to say about it. Like a soundtrack, I meticulously choose what to listen to and when for the feeling they evoke rather than their popularity.
""Seinfeld"" ran for nine years. Nine years ago, I was a fickle sixth grader thinking I was the bee's knees for listening to Ben Harper like my sister told me. Today I still listen to Ben Harper, albeit less pretentiously and for myself.
If you gain anything from reading my silly column about the inevitable passing of time and the montage of music that accompanies it, I hope you will start to think about the beauty and creativity of music. We're not all poets, so it's only necessary for us to indulge in the treasures of others to diversify our memories.
Whether you're thinking of the time you embarrassed yourself at a Mallard's game this summer or simply eating a meal with a good friend, there's a song for that. The phenomenon of music is that it reminds us of our best and worst times and their true merit.
Agree? Disagree? Want to share your personal soundtrack? E-mail Aimee at alkatz@wisc.edu
