Music and Memories

I have this annoying, savant-like talent to take anything that anyone says and connect it to music. Like last night, Christine and I were having dinner and I asked her how was she able to tell which was the saltshaker and which was the pepper. She pointed to the holes in the shape of a “P” on the peppershaker and I immediately broke into a rousing rendition of, “You down with OPP? Yeah you know me!” (Needless to say, Christine picked a winner and my ability to go from “P” to “OPP” is the stuff legends are made of.)

I’ve been trying to figure out why this always happens to me. Aside from the obvious suggestion that I’m a tool, why do I immediately seize on a tiny, innocuous part of someone’s phrasing and immediately break into song? After much deliberation, I’m willing to reject both science and a certain Old Spice commercial’s belief that scent is the strongest tie to memory. For me, it’s definitely sound.

As a high school student (and probably my first year or two of college), I was able to relate everything anyone said to various Simpson’s quotes. Those were the days when I used to watch a minimum of two Simpson’s repeats a night. Now that I’m a working-man, I don’t have time to watch my beloved Homer and company, instead, I commute nearly an hour to and from work everyday and my car’s stereo is my closest companion. Music has become my teacher, mother, secret lover.

In addition to being able to relate nearly anything to a song, I rarely hear a song that doesn’t evoke some memory. Obviously some are stronger than others. “Tears In Heaven” is a vivid memory of the first time I ever slow danced with a girl (FYI: she was hot). Any song on the Widespread Panic album “Space Wrangler” instantly makes me nauseous; it was the album I listened to as I tried to fall asleep after throwing my first house party (think Beastie Boys’ “Fight For Your Right” video). Medeski, Martin, and Woods’ “Sugarcraft” always reminds me of the insanity of my buddy Paul and his drug-induced, wonderful antics the morning after our prom party at Vein’s camp. Neil Young’s “Sugar Mountain” makes me tear-up every time I hear it, as I longingly recall past days of Jew Camp glory.

The list could go on and on. Nearly any song has some story or brings about some feeling or memory. I’ve often thought about imitating “High Fidelity” and trying to organize my music collection biographically, but I’m lazy and it requires too much time. There’s also the thought of making a mix of the stuff you’re into every month or two and in doing so, creating a musical journal (so to speak). Again, this is a little too ambitious for me. Instead, I thought this would be the first of several nostalgic music posts. There’s nothing better than re-discovering music you loved ten years ago. It brings about all these crazy memories and emotions, and sometimes you have all these wonderful insights into the stuff you used to love but had no idea why. My CD binder is my photo album and I’m looking forward to a trip down memory lane.