If scent is the sense most closely tied to memory, then hearing must come in at a dangerously close second. The ailing logician in me is constantly inventing new ways to measure time, and one of my tried and true methods is through music. Once my roommate remarked how I listened to the same exact Taylor Swift album every single morning. At first I was embarrassed, but eventually I had to admit that he was totally right. In the same OCD way I develop routines and throw three-year-old-like temper tantrums when daily life strays from them, I seem to always have a soundtrack lined up to coincide with those routines. The weeks leading up to and following losing my virginity in high school it was the same song over and over on repeat– “Casimir Pulaski Day” by Sufjan Stevens, which is an interesting choice considering that song is about someone dying from cancer (the heart likes what it likes!). In Paris I listened to nothing but the Mountain Goats and Yelle. This semester it has been a heavy rotation of Metric/Emily Haines, Cat Power and Liz Pappademas, and last semester it was Taylor Swift, Ingrid Michaelson and Hurts to Purr (I am apparently a sucker for badass ladies with sultry voices).
I tend to mark each important time period in my life by the band that I was listening to then, and there rises an overwhelming desire in me to do this now that I am officially an NYU graduate (though I’ll get to that in more earnest terms in a later post, natch). When I think about my tenure at NYU, four specific songs come to mind that illustrate my experiences here–for better or (mostly) for worse. If we’re friends IRL, you’ll probably find yourself nodding in agreement. I mean, song number 1 is:
“Heartbeats,” by The Knife
Techno power anthem of freshman year, the badass beat was the perfect soundtrack to the pounding of candy-flavored vodka shots we so favored. They played this over and over again at Ruff Club. Yes, I used to go to Ruff Club.
“Parentheses,” by The Blow
What NYU student drunkenly fumbling their way through the city in 2006-2007 didn’t know this song by heart? We spent many a night drinking and belting this at top-volume until the RA’s came a-knockin. The lyrics are representative of the kind of humanity we came to New York hoping to find: “If something in the deli aisle makes you cry/Of course I’ll put my arm around you/And I’ll walk you outside through the sliding towards/Why would I mind?/All of the babies they can feel the world/That’s why they cry.” Of course, there is none of that here, but we wouldn’t find that out until much later.
When The Blow played a show at Kimmel and it was nothing but one girl, a mic and a boombox, we silently stopped listening to “Paper Television.”
“Young Folks,” Peter, Bjorn & John
Towards the end of freshman year and the beginning of sophomore year we drank less but kept going out. New York was starting to lose its gleam, but it was too subtle for us to notice, except sometimes when stumbling home from the Lower East Side around dawn. The summer before sophomore year was hellishly hot. I lived in LA for half of it and when I came back the whole city stunk of garbage. Even at night the humidity refused to wane. Everyone was playing this song–in clubs, on their iTunes, in Urban Outfitters. People’s voices always gained volume when they sang, “We can stick around and see this night through.” I think we thought there was something wise in that phrase, but really it was always 4am and we should’ve gone home hours ago.
“Time to Pretend,” by MGMT
I think I was abroad when this song came out, but when I got back to New York it was still a local anthem. You couldn’t escape it. With lyrics that rail against what one might call the “mainstream,” there is a youthcentric “fuck you” undertone that New York twenty-somethings can’t help but cling to. “This is our decision to live fast and die young/ We’ve got the vision now let’s have some fun/ Yeah it’s overwhelming but what else can we do?/ Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute?” We’re different, we’re special, we hate your suit, we’re New York youth.
There are more. There are so many more! Songs/albums that I myself put on repeat but didn’t necessarily listen to in a crowd. They include:
And on and on and on.
When I move to San Francisco I expect my tastes to migrate from annoyingly indie/feministy to All Cat Stevens All the Time.