Written by Emma Weber
A recurring theme in my life is music. My mom loves to tell people that on the way to my first day of kindergarten, I was hyping myself up with a CD of “The Best of the ’70s” when she had to inform me that I wasn’t allowed to sing “Le Freak” in school. I was obviously distraught with this because it was my favorite song of the group. From that day on I had to wait to sing my tunes until I was home.
When I was around the age of 9, I became obsessed with Adele’s album “21.” I had never been through any kind of heartbreak, especially a messy breakup with a semi-famous photographer, but somehow she verbalized the feeling of longing I felt in my heart but didn’t know how to say. She painted pictures of ideas I had felt before. I was struck by the thought that someone could say so clearly what had been floating around my mind.
Spotify Wrapped coming out this week reminds me again of why I love music. For those who don’t know, Spotify Wrapped is an annual event in which the music streaming app Spotify releases your music-listening data with funky illustrations, probably so you don’t question what other data they may have access to. During this time, music lovers everywhere are reminded about their experiences of the past year through the music they listened to. Spotify even creates a playlist in which one can reminisce on the songs that have become like old friends.
This year was no different. Listening to the songs I loved this year, I was able to be transported back to specific moments, conjure up specific people and reconnect with feelings I had long since disconnected from. “Simulation Swarm” by the band Big Thief put me back on my bike on the Harding trail for the first time with friends who graduated last spring. “Peace” by Taylor Swift transported me back to the sticky Michigan mornings where I got to water gardens while working at my internship this summer. “The Night Josh Tillman Came to Our Apartment” by Father John Misty invokes a clear image of my excitement to find a song written about a woman like me — loud, frequently speaking before thinking and hopelessly ironic.
I have a love language of telling people “This song reminds me of you.” There is no greater honor than hearing the experience of an artist and having someone think of their experience with you. If I tell you I am thinking about you when I hear something, I am cementing your importance in my life. Sometimes that can be tough, such as the experience for the person I associate with the song “Secrecy” by Ethan Regan, but it is also beautiful to have a marker of feelings. It’s a way to say, “Whatever we become, I can always remember you this way.”
I had the opportunity to hear Stevie Nicks and Billy Joel live with my parents this year. When “Landslide” played, my mom and I got to experience our song together, and I remembered when we played it the first time my parents dropped me off at Harding. Stevie Nicks spoke about the mountain my mom and I choose to climb, the relationship we are building together throughout age and changes. I could only smile at the new moment we could share.
I spent 72,413 minutes listening to music this year. Maybe I am afraid of under- stimulation, or maybe I like feeling known. Whichever it is, I challenge you to let the songs you love remind you of the people who shape you. Check out the songs people say remind them of you. Be known by others, and try to remember the past every once in a while.
