Musical moments and memories

The other day I put on an album I hadn’t listened to for some time: Natalie Merchant’s Ophelia. By “put on an album” I mean stream on my iPhone. Back in 1998, the year it was released, I would have removed the shiny CD from its case, placed it on the tray of my CD player, gently pushed it shut, then pressed the play button. Click. I loved that CD/cassette combination player with matching boxy speakers. It took up a large portion of the living room shelving unit in the house I rented in Ottawa with two roommates. We played that CD often. It was in regular rotation along with The Cranberries’ Faithfully Departed and Jamiroqui’s Traveling without Moving.

Natalie’s deep voice is as soulful as ever coming out of my compact Wonderboom speaker today.

♫ You’ve been so kind and generous
I don’t how you keep on giving
For your kindness, I’m in debt to you ♫

All the sudden I am in tears. I am remembering my roommate. My dear friend who died far too young. She was kind, smart, a wicked writer, and loved fine wool sweaters and tall boots. The melody brings it all to the present. The good times we shared and the pain of her loss more than 12 years later.

The power of music is fierce.

Sadness or longing aren’t the only emotions set off by music. I have many “happy songs”. I only need to hear Allan Doyle sing the opening bars of Ordinary Day to feel a smile creep on my face.

♫ It’s an ordinary day
And it’s all your state of mind,
at the end of the day, you’ve just got to say it’s alright ♫

If I need a pick me up, a little inspiration, I put on The Strumbellas. The album Rattlesnake is a good one.

♫ I like to dance under street lamps and walk upon the clouds
I like to shout from rooftop and surf on top of the crowd
For many years, many years, I was scared of the person I was
And I’m not perfect, they say, but I know that I was born to be loved ♫

There is some scientific backing to this. Music can help regulate emotions. In an episode of the Happiness Lab (Sight and Sound: How to Joyfully Awaken Your Senses), happiness expert Gretchen Rubin tapped into the emotions her favourite songs evoked by creating an “audio apothecary” or playlists for different moods, like contemplative or up-lifting. Some upbeat music, like my “happy songs”, are a great way to provide a quick hit of energy. The music will shake you awake!

You may even want to dance. Free-flowing movement can also help creativity, if you need another reason. It can help pacify the left-side of the brain that gets in the way of putting something on that blank page for fear it’s too messy or no good. It’s hard for me not to get up and dance in circles when the drums kick up the beat in Home for a Rest by Spirit of the West.

♫ We arrived in December, and London was cold
We stayed in the bars along Charing Cross road
We never saw nothing but brass taps and oak
Kept a shine on the bar with the sleeves of our coats ♫

Speaking of dancing, Bailando is on regular rotation in preparation for Enrique Iglesia in concert later this month. Enrique dancing in the flesh. Now that will set off a whole other set of emotions…

♫ Ya no puedo mas ♫

A memory in the making.

Certain songs remind me of different phases of my life. Nirvana’s release of Smells Like Teen Spirit in 1991 coincided perfectly with my teenage angst. My early concert memories are prompted by songs: Tom Petty belting out And I’m freeeee, free faaalling ♫ or Black Crowes’ quick fire chorus Hey little thing let me light me your candle, ’cause, mama, I am sure hard to handle now, gets around ♫ My university days in Kingston have a strong association with the Tragically Hip and the magic of Gerry O’Kane at the Wellington Pub serenading us to the rocky roads of Dublin and the shores of Nova Scotia. Listening to a live recording of his Irish tunes today (aptly named the Nostalgia Tapes) I can practically smell the beer sloshing over the pint glasses.

♫ Farewell to Nova Scotia, your seabound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
For when I am far away on the brimy ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me? ♫

I even have songs from chapters of my work life. Kathleen Edwards’ Empty Threat transports me to a 70s style boardroom in the Lester B. Pearson building and it was to the beat of Mounties’ Headphones that I blocked out the mass of people, dressed in dark and somber colours, bolting up Bay Street to the office. ♫ I got my headphones on from the minute I’m up til the minute I go bed ♫

It’s amazing how songs can bring back the feeling associated with a memory. Please don’t go recollects the sense of freedom of my first backpacking trip. It’s better than a photo. The Andalusian band Triana evokes my first solo trip to Spain walking in the mountains around peaceful Alájar.

Songs are a memory trigger to people too. When I hear What I wouldn’t do by Serena Ryder I have an image of jumping up and down with my daughter when she was younger in the hallway of our house in Toronto. She would greet me as I walked in the front door from work and we’d start dancing.

♫ I’ll carry the weight
I’ll do anything for you
My bones may break
But I’ll never be untrue
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa ♫

Around this time period, Van Morrison’s Moondance album was my Sunday morning relax fix. It was my daughter who reminded me recently: “Mom, I think of you whenever I hear that song … you played it all the time!” I have unwittingly infiltrated her memories. My husband will play All Summer Long by Kid Rock at the cottage all summer long. Belt out every single word: ♫ Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long. My brother and I were so intrigued by Bohemian Rhapsody as kids we played the vinyl over and over on the turntable in our childhood home. The Everly Brothers calls to mind my Dad.

This post could go and on. BBC Desert Island Discs invites (or challenges) guests to select a mere eight tracks they would take with them to a desert island. It’s all about travelling back in time through song as guests connect music with scenes from their lives, milestones, meaningful relationships.

I asked a good friend, a huge music lover, if she could choose eight favourite tracks.

“Impossible,” she replied without hesitation. “How do you even pick a single Led Zeppelin song?”

I don’t know! Black dog, Immigrant Song, Going to California, Bron-Y-Aur Stomp, Ramble On, Hey Hey What Can I Do …??? Whole Lotta Love??? I can’t choose.

Cannot.

Still, it is an enjoyable romp down memory lane matching songs to memories. Within my desert island mix would have to be “happy songs” to keep my spirits up as well as some chill and soulful music to contemplate life I suppose. Be melancholic. Definitely some dancing tunes. Nobody will be watching!

My desert island might have the rhythmic sound of lapping waves on a beach, however without some varied beats it would be dull. Even cast off with a decently long playlist would be tough. I would miss the delight of discovering new music. A new album dropped by a favourite artist. I would also miss those musical moments that grab your heart unexpectedly.

Even when it aches, it’s a beautiful thing.