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How did any of us live before Pandora (or Spotify, SiriusXM, etc)? Being somewhat frugal, I still use the free version of Pandora but that doesn’t dampen the effect of hearing a collection of songs that is tailored to my very soul. It is, quite simply, absolutely joyful.
A big part of the joy comes from my not listening very often. Music has always been integral to my life but as I’ve aged and taken on more responsibilities, it has somewhat fallen aside. Like novels. And poetry. So when I find snippets of time to indulge in any of them it just feels that much more special. Magical.
Karen Carpenter has always had a special place in my heart. That voice, those songs, her story. Damn, right? Everything she sings is so compelling to me and so beautifully sweet and simple. So obviously I created a Carpenters station. With that comes James Taylor, John Denver, Bread, even some Fleetwood Mac (love me some Stevie Nicks). Because these songs and artists were on the radio when I was a teenager they return me to that time in my life every time I hear them. And what a strange but buoyant feeling it is.
It’s sort of like I’m that age again, but now I know better. The song Waitin’ on a Friend, by the Stones, is a perfect example. My fiancé had to work out of town for a few months shortly after we became engaged and I remember the absolute life-ending heartache I felt. That song was new during that time and played on the radio constantly. It became my theme song. The piano, the simple lyrics, Mick’s characteristic but classic style. Every time the song played I felt like it was pressing on a bruise in the center of my heart.
We were only apart for a few months at most. I don’t even remember exactly how long, but when you’re nineteen and in love every moment apart feels like eons. The first time I heard it after he had come home I remember how different it was. I used to feel so lonely and sad when I heard it; it actually intensified my loneliness and vulnerability. After we were together again, however, it was not the same. Instead it was like an old friend reminding me that things were hard for awhile but now it’s all better. Nothing to worry about.
It occurred to me that really it’s like that with nearly all the songs I hear when listening to my “old” stations. As in those that play songs from previous eras of my life. I don’t always have as obvious a connection or memory as with Waitin’ on a Friend, but I know that subconsciously some part of me returns to the time when an old song was new in my life. And as I listen now, I’m safe on the other side of that adolescent chasm. It is an undeniable feeling of satisfaction, like I made it out. I’m okay. Nothing from that time can hurt me anymore.
Plus, there’s something protective that comes up at those times. Like I’m my own big sister or best friend. There to tell that teenage me, “Don’t worry. In a few days it’ll all be over.” And at some point, years from now, it would be completely forgotten. In fact, you’ll be awesome, strong, and bullet-proof. It’s true.
As I write that I have to admit it looks silly and sentimental, but it’s true. Really. And you know what? I love it. All of it. Sometimes it’s probably because of the emotional stirring I experience. Other times it’s because the songs themselves are so beautifully written and performed (hello Rocky Mountain High). When I sing along I usually do the harmony; that way I don’t ruin the experience. I prefer to imagine I’m right there on stage or in the recording studio performing with Karen. Or Carole King. Or Linda Ronstadt. I feel like a god singing all the harmonies with perfect pitch and dynamics. Often I add new ones. It’s fantastic!
And yes, there are times when I listen to new artists (or more current ones) as well. That’s cool because Pandora’s algorithms shield me from stupid crap that a radio station might spit out. But none of the more recent tunes compare to the old stuff. The melodies that resonate in my DNA like Sara Smile. Or Ready to Take a Chance Again (Manilow). And if something by Gladys Knight finds its way into the rotation, fuhgetaboutit. Who wouldn’t soar over all the typical little hiccups and headaches of her day with Midnight Train to Georgia as a soundtrack?
That music soothes and heals the soul is well known to most people. It’s power is scientifically proven (music therapy is real). It’s fortifying, joyful, and yes: fun. And when the right songs are chosen it’s even more than that. Try soul quenching. Enlightening. Even transcendent.
Exaggeration? Nope. I’ve always believed in the magic of sudden (and not so sudden) insights. Of moments in which something important or beautiful is discovered. When joy peeks through and says hello. Who’d ever think that such moments could come from an app that automatically and algorithmically generates playlists of emotionally and artistically relevant old tunes?
It’s nothing short of miraculous.