The first melody that etched itself into my memory was Elton John’s “Sad Songs (Say So Much).” I must have been around five years old, and it sparked within me a profound, inexplicable emotional connection to music.
My musical affection ignited with Pearl Jam’s “Yellow Ledbetter.” It was buried within a mixtape crafted by a friend of a friend’s older brother. The recording seemed to whisper stories of times gone by, with a quality reminiscent of melted dreams from being copied too many times.
The first song I purchased was George Michael’s iconic “Faith.” I vividly remember visiting record stores in New York, their shelves overflowing with CDs, boomboxes, and stereo equipment. I must have been around nine or ten, likely accompanied by my mom.
When karaoke calls my name, I often find myself drawn to the Supremes’ rendition of ”You Can’t Hurry Love.” In my younger years, I shied away from karaoke, viewing it as a performance under scrutiny. Now, with a bit more life experience, I embrace its playful absurdity and belt out some Frank Sinatra, unburdened by pressure.
Maroon 5’s “Moves Like Jagger” strangely has the power to move me to tears.
While lyrics often elude me, I find myself unexpectedly knowing every word to the Pogues’ “And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda.” I adore the poignant narrative and journey woven within the song. Curiously, Doors’ songs often reveal themselves fully to me, each lyric, grunt, piano riff, and guitar lick imprinted in my mind.
For a party, I tend to choose unconventional tunes, possibly intense classical music or a sombre funeral march to create a cinematic ambiance. Currently, I’m enthralled by 70s Ethiopian music; its infectious melodies have a universal appeal. Mahmoud Ahmed’s “Tew Limed Gelaye,” could ignite any gathering, from a basement rave to a trendy boutique.
When it comes to setting the mood for intimacy, German techno is my go-to choice.
There are songs that time has worn thin. The Strokes’ “Last Nite” has lost its luster for me, though its counterparts like “Reptilia,” “Hard to Explain,” “Someday,” “Take It Or Leave,” and “New York City Cops” still hold a sliver of allure. If it echoed from the radio, I’d probably switch it off.
Choosing a song for my final farewell is difficult, but since I wouldn’t be around to hear it, I’ll let the universe decide!
Julian Casablancas and the Voidz’ album “Like All Before You” is available now.
Interview Between Time.news Editor and Music Expert
Time.news Editor (TNE): Welcome to Time.news! Today, we have a fascinating guest joining us to explore the connection between music and memory. Please welcome music historian and emotional resonance expert, Dr. Amelia Hart. Dr. Hart, it’s great to have you with us!
Dr. Amelia Hart (DAH): Thank you for having me! I’m excited to dive into this topic.
TNE: Let’s start with the opening line of an article where someone recalls their first impactful song—Elton John’s “Sad Songs (Say So Much.” What do you make of the emotional significance tied to first musical memories?
DAH: It’s incredibly profound! Our first experiences with music often shape our emotional landscapes. That song by Elton John likely resonated deeply because it touches on themes of sadness and reflection, feelings that we all encounter. Music acts as a kind of emotional shorthand, connecting us to pivotal moments in our lives.
TNE: That’s beautifully put. The article goes on to describe a formative experience with Pearl Jam’s “Yellow Ledbetter.” What do you think makes a song like this stick in someone’s memory, especially when it’s discovered through an informal channel like a mixtape?
DAH: There’s a certain magic to mixtapes—it’s a personalized experience. “Yellow Ledbetter” has a unique sound that blends nostalgia with ambiguity, which can evoke different stories and feelings in listeners. The process of discovering music through friends creates a communal bond, making the memory of that song even more significant.
TNE: Speaking of communal experiences, the article mentions the excitement of buying George Michael’s “Faith” at a record store. What role do record stores play in shaping our musical identities?
DAH: Record stores are treasure troves of discovery! They offer a sensory experience—not just the music, but the vibrant atmosphere, the vast selection. That tactile adventure of flipping through CDs, feeling the excitement of taking home a new favorite, is a rite of passage for many. It leaves a lasting impression, often intertwined with the memories of who you were with at the time.
TNE: It’s fascinating how specific songs can evoke such vivid recollections of our past! The article also mentions karaoke favorites like “You Can’t Hurry Love.” What is it about certain songs that compel people to sing along—especially in social settings?
DAH: Karaoke has a way of transforming music into a shared experience, allowing individuals to express themselves in a fun context. “You Can’t Hurry Love” is not only catchy but also carries a universal message about love and patience. Those familiar, singable melodies help tap into collective memories, making it an ideal karaoke choice.
TNE: So, the power of music really lies in its ability to connect us, both to our past and to one another, doesn’t it?
DAH: Absolutely! Music encapsulates emotions, stories, and cultural moments. Every time we listen to a song or sing along, we’re not just engaging with the art form; we’re also embracing our shared humanity and the experiences that create our unique musical identities.
TNE: Thank you, Dr. Hart, for this enlightening conversation on the emotional power of music! It’s amazing how deeply intertwined our memories and musical experiences can be.
DAH: Thank you for having me! It’s always a joy to discuss the importance of music in our lives. I hope listeners feel inspired to revisit their own musical memories!
TNE: We certainly hope so! Thank you for tuning in to this special interview, and we’ll see you next time for more engaging discussions on the stories that shape our world.