Memories Evoked in Music

“…Catching teardrops in my hand,
My heart is drenched in wine
But you’ll be on my mind
Forever…”

-Norah Jones-

I’ve loved Norah Jones since she first came out, and this song or any one off her first CD will forever remind me of working late nights at Barnes and Noble, when the bulk of the customers cleared out of the store (the few stragglers remaining in chairs quietly reading a book or even sleeping), and a co-worker of mine named Angie. Late nights at Barnes and Noble were an interesting phenomenon, with a few of our regular oddball customers that haunted us late at night sometimes being exceptionally creepy, and a very pensive atmosphere that settled in as the sun went down. One of my co-workers, Angie, had a rough life behind her already, especially considering her young age, and she adopted a tough exterior to match the scars she carried inside. But contrarily, she listened to the romantic, beautiful Norah Jones incessantly. I always thought that was pretty revealing about the softer side of her that she tried so desperately to hide.

Music is such an integral part of who I am and has always played such an important role in my life. Anyone who knows me is aware of my somewhat odd habit of singing to myself pretty much all the time. There are very few genres of music I am not interested in and I am always looking forward to learning more. I often find myself lost in the past when I hear a song that meant something to me.

Sometimes, a lot of times, I wish I could stop the memories. I don’t want to relive the car accident when I broke my ankle and totaled someone else’s car, every time I hear “Here Comes Your Man” by The Pixies. Or remember the tragic death of a loved one when I hear Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel”. I can’t describe the pain of listening to anything by Willie Nelson, which sucks because he is one of my favorite musicians. His songwriting and nasally voice reaches down deep inside me and fills me with bittersweet stillness. But for now, as much as I try, I just can’t listen to him. His CDs sit in a drawer in my nightstand, gathering dust.

As with everything, there is another, better side to this. I also have incredibly special, amazing moments forever captured in time with a single song. I can’t listen to “Don’t Stop Believin”" or “Wheel in the Sky” by Journey without remembering my crazy friend Laney and riding in her muscle car, music at full blast, singing these songs at the top of our lungs, smiling ear to ear and living life a little dangerously. “Oye Como Va” by Santana will always remind me of a very happy and silly moment with my first boyfriend. An early song by John Mayer rockets me back to an incredible, purely spontaneous moment years ago, where I danced alone in the first snowfall of the season at a BK drive through, catching snowflakes on my tongue. The Judds will always be a monument to my best friend, Kiki, and Randy Travis’s “On the Other Hand” brings to mind a childhood memory of sitting in the back of my parent’s van and staring out the window at a dark, star-filled sky rushing by and my breath fogging the cold glass with snowflake-like patterns.

I could go on and on. So, one thing I’ve learned in my life from all this? To be very careful what memories I create with my favorite music…or really any music, as far as that goes.