Nearly everyone can agree that the power of music is undeniable; it can bring people together, aid the development of the brain, and act as an antidepressant. But what is most fascinating is how music can bring back memories from the past as if they happened only yesterday. We’ve all had instances where we’re driving in the car and suddenly a song from a specific time in our life starts playing. We are instinctively pulled back to the time and place we associate that song with, and the exact emotions and surroundings it brought. Maybe science hasn’t figured out time travel yet, but listening to ‘that song’ comes very close.
We see it all the time when our parents hear songs from their youth on the radio. “I remember listening to this song in college!” is the most frequent phrase I hear from my mom when tunes from Salt-N-Pepa come on, or when DJ Kool’s ‘Let Me Clear My Throat’ comes up on her Facebook feed. I always laugh, because she gets so excited about the fact that it’s playing, but the more I grow up, the more I understand where she’s coming from. In fact, every Millennial feels the same way when they hear a High School Musical song, or when we hear any of the TV theme songs we grew up with.
(Don’t lie, every one of us still knows the lyrics to that entire movie; there’s no shame in it.)
Personally, anything from the band Sugarland takes me back to being a kid. I still remember being around six years old in our little yellow kitchen with my mom. I remember hearing her sing the lyrics and knowing that I wanted to sing like that one day. It was what drove me to be the vocalist I am today. When I hear ‘Mayberry’ by Rascal Flatts I’m back in the first house my family lived in, the one I consider to be my childhood home. I can describe the entire house; how my bedroom was blue and yellow, how the backyard was full of moonflowers, that the air smelled like rain in the summer and the sounds of trains were always in the background, that the sky right before a tornado warning hit was always an eerie yellow. And of course, I can’t listen to the Red Hot Chili Peppers or Sublime without being back in the car with my dad, laughing and singing with him even though I didn’t understand any of it. Suddenly I’m five years old again, and everything comes flooding back. The fact that something so small can be so powerful is magical in its own way; it’s a magic that no one can rob you of, that lingers forever.
Of course, sometimes it’s overwhelming. Sometimes I can’t help but feel the tears in my eyes because those memories are so precious. But other times it’s exactly what I need. If I miss my best friend while we’re at different schools, I can put on a playlist and remember the crazy antics we were up to while listening to that song. When I want to remember the summer before my freshman year of high school, the winter my uncle passed away, the fall I started third grade, all I have to do is press ‘play.’
The beauty of music, of any song, is that there are powerful memory cues in the melodies and lyrics. As if a switch was flipped in your mind, suddenly everything clicks. The details, the feelings, the time and place; they all settle in, as fresh as the day they were made. I’ve heard so many people say that they wish their lives came with soundtracks like movies do, without realizing that they really do. It’s just not playing for everyone to hear.
