Saturday, March 7, 2009

i LOVE that song!

how many times does the miraculous connection between music and memory stop you in your tracks, dumbfounded at the resurgance of imagery long forgotten?

for me it's usually about once a week.

most recently i was driving, alone, singing along to a favorite tune from those awkward transition years between junior high and high school. mid-riff, i was instantly watching my life at 14 flash past me: the thrift store clothes shopping (because that was the cool thing to do), the trips to the mall where you ditch the responsible parent to hunt for boys with your very bestest friend, playing dress up in a mature way (i.e. wearing your mother's old hippie clothes to school just to be a little bit different).

every once in a while, a real gem emerges from these foggy bits and comes together at just the right time to create a moment more endearing in it's recollection than it ever could have been when it occured.

for me, this time, the moment was chris cornell's spellbinding voice leading into billy longfingers approaching his 'girlfriend' of the week at the bottom of the big hill, clutching spring dandelions in his unfortunate hands. the weeds, desperate to pass for real flowers, sagging despondently as he crushed their stems, forcing the yellow petals to look sullenly downward. it was tragic, humorous, and captivating all at the same time.

how memory actually works is a topic i have no desire to touch, but i will say that the fact that i can remember every word to a song i haven't heard in years yet can't leave my house without forgetting at least one essential item, speaks to the astounding way which we define our very selves with a musical soundtrack. to me, this is truly a remarkable form of theraputic release, aligning your current state of mind with someone else's words put to song, or perhaps i just want to justify playing 90's rock at a deafeningly loud volume. after all, who wouldn't?


Kristine said...

Oh, Billy. Those were some unfortunate hands. At least they distracted from the face?
Oooh, I took that one too far.

Laura said...

no you didn't!