Music, how do you do it?
Today, as I drove down the street on my way to work, I put my iPod on shuffle. “Endless Summer” by Zwan came on, and immediately I was brought back to the Summer after my junior year of college. Instead of driving down a highway, I’m in the Pump House Surf Shop on Cape Cod, MA talking with the owner Matt about what kind of board to buy for the summer. Zwan comes on, and I immediately recognize Billy Corgan’s distinct voice come over the house speakers. The side project was short lived, and had very little success, but this particular song resonated with me. Now, every time I hear that beginning riff, I can see the surfshop, I can feel the fiberglass on a new longboard, and I can smell the freshly waxed boards, ready to go out on the ocean.
Later on in my work day, the shuffle brings me to Third Eye Blind’s “Darkness.” Once again, I’m transported from behind my desk in Atlanta, to behind the wheel of my black ’92 GMC Jimmy (this car was so old and beat up that when it finally needed repairs, we sold it for parts instead). It’s the summer after my junior year of high school, and I’m driving down Route 6 towards Sandwich Downs. I have a trunk full of tennis balls and racqets, and I’m going to teach the kids of some family friends how to play. I can see the inside of my car, and I can TASTE (yeah, how crazy is that) the Snapple Fire drink that I have in my hand. I don’t even think they make this stuff anymore; I check every grocery store and every convenience store hoping that somebody would have one left. I don’t care if its from 2003, I’ll still drink it. Dragonfruit can’t go bad, it’s made out of dragons, right? That’s not healthy.
These are two examples of hundreds. Guster’s “Homecoming King” puts me at the high school soccer field during the fall of my senior year; the temperature dropping as the sun goes down and the smell of Fall gives way to Winter. Collective Soul’s “Dandy Life” puts me on the bus driving home at night from an away JV basketball game, snow falling outside and everybody asleep. Kenny Chesney’s “Anything But Mine” (shut up) sends me out to San Diego on a Monday afternoon, where I’d walk Crystal Pier in Pacific Beach and then along the shore, people-watching, wave-scouting, and wondering how I was going to survive on the West Coast.
Although everybody else might not have memories as vivid as this (my mind chooses to remember the most minuscule of details for certain things), you can surely associate a song or two with a single moment in your life. Good or bad, these associations happen subconsciously, triggering a memory months down the road, and then stay with you forever.
Let’s hear your stories, they better be good!
-Steve