Sing Me a Memory

Scientists have proven time and again that smell is the sense most closely linked to memory. In fact, I think I blogged about it awhile ago. But have you ever noticed that music seems to come in a close second? I’m not talking sound, I’m talking turning on the radio and being zapped back to 1991. Picture it: You’re driving in your car and the opening strings of a Peter Gabriel song fills your four-door sedan and instantly you’re at your Senior prom…better yet, don’t picture it. Prom sucked. But our prom song was In Your Eyes (what can I say, has any Gen-Xer officially gotten over Say Anything yet?). And to this day whenever I hear Gabriel sing, “the light, the heat; I am complete” I feel like I’m 17-years old all over again and really and truly excited (and frightened out of my gourd) to graduate and start college. Ahh, silly girl.

This, of course, is not the only song that sends my spiraling back. Forever Young by Alphaville reminds me of Senior Night, while Barbra Steisand’s The Way We Were reminds me of every Sports Night slideshow Mr. Greenleaf ever put on. Funkytown reminds me of my mom teaching me how to do the bump in the living room. Baby Got Back? Becky Cawely. “Oh. My. God. Becky, look at her butt…” Ice, Ice, Baby reminds me of Grace Ferraro because she desperately wanted to use it for a cheerleading routine, while Can’t Touch This reminds me of cheerleading camp. (I think I remember a couple of moves from it, too. Scary as that is.) Jesse’s Girl reminds me of two different 1AM phone calls from Audra Robinson at some bar somewhere listening to a live band playing a cover of the Rick Springfield tune and having her yell in my ear over the cacophony of snare and electric guitar (love ya, Aud). The Beastie Boys’s Paul Revere reminds me of Gina Circo who was able to recite every line word for word and how she floored me one night when she proved it. AC/DC’s Back In Black reminds me of my stepdad playing air guitar in the living room while Jen Waite and I sat on the staircase and laughed. Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi is Rebecca Horwitz at Culture Club on Varrick Street in the Village. Same Auld Lang Syne by Dan Folgelberg reminds me of a New Years Eve I wish I could forget, and Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin reminds me of the day that I sat in my dad’s dining room and copied it onto a tape realizing how appropriate it was that I found this song here.

There’s more, of course, a lot more. Some bring me back to a really happy time and others not so much. And while I do have some of these songs in iTunes, I always prefer having them sneak up on me on the radio. With the amount of driving one does in California, it’s nice to go from today’s traffic jam on the 405 back to Grandpa’s living room with my mom teaching me a groovy 70s dance and consists of bumping our hienies together. It’s a better place to be, I tell ya.