Play it Again...and again...

Some songs were only meant to be heard a finite number of times before being shelved, only to be heard every few years thereafter. Other songs we wish had gone forever unheard. Then there are those songs that no matter how many times we hear them, we never tire of them. If we're driving and they come on the radio, the volume is going up and the gas pedal is going down. I could easily get carried away with this topic and list dozens, if not hundreds, so I'll limit myself to five songs, in no particular order, that I never tire of, and why they stay with me.

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I was in college, setting up with my school's pep band at Madison Square Garden before a basketball game. It was common that the big screens over the court would play music videos. Thus was I exposed to the video for Guns n' Roses' You Could Be Mine, prominently featured in the film Terminator 2 as well as on the album Use Your Illusion II. While I was familiar with the song from the other sources, I never had Cable and never saw the video, even on friends’ televisions. These days, I'll crank just about any G n' R song from the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, but I guess this one stands out based on the geek factor of the science fiction connection as well as the memory of seeing the video so huge. At their height, they were one of the most technically skillful bands out there, and I wish I'd caught them live at some point, especially this rendition of The Godfather's theme by Slash. Wow, it so doesn't sound like that when any of my bands play it.

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I haven't heard or really thought about Groove is in the Heart by Deee-Lite in a number of years, until the Interactive Pipecleaner Dancer from this week's Phantasmic Links got my neck moving and brought it back to the forefront of my consciousness. It was among any number of songs a high school friend and I used to make fun of, especially the bit with the slide whistle, but I mocked it out of love for its camp value. It's catchy, makes me move, and has an old school rap breakdown in the middle of it that's sorely lacking in today's music. Remember when songs did that? Groove is in the Heart takes me back to high school, watching videos at my friend's house and admiring a psychedelic babe that could move and groove as well as wail.

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I used to hear AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long driving to college in the morning and driving home in the evening. I remember hearing it more than once at various parties, barbecues, and other social events this internet recluse actually ventured out to during the more adventurous years of his life. In my twenties, it became a karaoke favorite as well, and the strength of the rhythm of the song itself gave me more courage and momentum than the alcohol already coaxing me out of my introversion. It also has one of the best openings of any rock song I've ever heard, the beckoning guitar riff setting up the bass and the beat to enter with noticeable presence. I definitely crank the bass and shift everything to my car's back speakers when this comes on. I might not be cool, but blasting this makes me feel cool for about three minutes.

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One day in high school, in my Junior or Senior year, a friend gave me a plain brown cassette tape with a single word written in pencil: Nirvana. “What is this?” asked a geek who'd never purchased a record, tape, or CD in his life and only taped bad music off the radio. “Just take it home and play it. Loud. You need to hear this.” My friend often knew what he was talking about, and the first track on the dubbed cassette, Smells Like Teen Spirit breathed life into me, and revealed what rock music really was. You can not sit still when this song comes on; the guitars and drums scream, “Get the **** out of your chair NOW.” The lyrics don't make all that much sense, but that doesn't matter. I don't care that there are only three chords. The simplest structures work and are often the hardest to conceive. It was the song that forever changed my musical tastes and led me into the dangerous limb-flailing waters of more than one mosh pit. Pearl Jam might have become my favorite Grunge band, but Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit will always be the most significant. I can't tire of it, and it's always a gift when it comes on the radio. It's a shame that idiot had to go and shoot himself, although there is still some dispute about whether he was in fact murdered. I’ve since bought the CD, but I still have that old dubbed cassette too.

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About a week before I started college I had to go in for a few hours for orientation. I was a little nervous. Starting a new school had never been my forte, and it was especially hard when I didn't know anyone. The transition from middle school to high school was tough, not only because I was going from a public school system where I'd had some friends as long as 8 years to a Catholic school where I knew no one, but because there would be no girls in my high school. Going to a coed university, I felt a bit like a convict released from a four year prison sentence. I had been shy before, and a spaz that always seemed to walk into things or get himself beat up around cute girls. Without the anchor of my reputation as the town nerd, could I overcome my self consciousness as The New Guy? Would I be a suave talker, thinking on my feet and not realizing hours later what I should have said?

The anticipation was excruciating, but my only saving grace at the orientation was the crowd. “Why do you think everyone is looking at you?” my mom would ask me when I was younger and concerned with my every action in the public eye. There were so many kids at the orientation that I could relax and blend in. We learned about the campus, and the diverse racial and cultural groups that coexisted there. There was an overview of the various buildings as well as the process of selecting classes. When it was done, we were invited to come up to a table for cupcakes and refreshments. One of the student advisors popped in a CD, and for the first time I heard Summer of ‘69 by Bryan Adams. Yes, apparently I had been living in some sort of cave between 1984 and 1992. At that moment, through the crowd, I caught sight of a beautiful girl. At first I mistook her for my old crush from Middle School, and wondered if fate hadn't finally reunited us. Further scrutiny showed me that it wasn't anyone I knew. She was thin, with curly, dirty blonde hair, dark eyebrows, a soft smile and a piercing gaze. She still hadn't seen me. As the music continued to play I made my way to the table, standing beside her pretending to be interested in cookies while I tried to think of something to say. She didn't know who I was, or my reputation as the guy that got beat up, said stupid things, and knew far too much about the Transformers. I had a clean slate, a fresh start, and all I had to say was “hello”. The song ended, and I looked around the room, but while I stood there in my brain, time continued in the outside world, and she had left. All I had was a plate of cookies and a first name from her name tag: “Katie”(I think). In the next four years I'd always keep an eye out for her around school, but it was a big campus, I had no idea what her major was, and as time went on I wasn't even sure I was remembering the right name from the sticker. Still, that song conjures up images of the heroic moment in any romantic movie, when the guy finally runs to tell the girl how he feels, and she reciprocates. I'm still waiting for that part of my movie, but I've often seen many versions of it, especially when I hear Summer of ‘69. Lyndon posted the video last week, and I definitely played it more than once, and thought about that day in the Summer of ‘92.

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There's something about specific sounds of instruments, certain chord and drum combinations, that reach something in our personalities. I tend to think of a lot of these songs as “inspirational”, but that's not quite the right word. I just know that the sounds I click with can me feel excited and motivated, and sometimes giddy. The other important factor toward repeat listening, besides the songs themselves, are the events we associate them with. Our memory, when combined with our senses, is that much stronger. Sights, sounds, smells, and textures can transport us instantly back to other moments, good moments, and better moments.

What songs do you listen to over and over? Why? Today's post is being contributed to Janet's Tell It To Me Tuesday; feel free to click on over and tell her too.