when i was a freshman in college, “pulp fiction” came out. i didn’t see it until late winter at a cheap-seat theater with this guy named K, who started out gold but quickly turned to shit. my friend A had the soundtrack and i borrowed it relentlessly to listen to “let’s stay together” by al green. i didn’t have a cd player at the time but my roommate did; i listened to that track 4 on repeat over and over and over again. i couldn’t get enough. A thought i was weird. she said, i never listen to a song over and over— maybe a whole album, but never a song. strange; i repeat songs like i blink.
i’m more of a tunes girl than a lyrics girl. i can sing any tune but can’t tell you what most of the words are. i don’t get words wrong necessarily, i just don’t bother with them. i’m batting an 8-word-per song average and they’re usually in the chorus. it’s all about the mood for me. there are certain songs i can no longer listen to though, not because i burned out on them but rather because they represent a very specific time in my life that i can’t bear to think about anymore. like “picture perfect morning,” the first solo album by edie brickel. a lovely record but it’ll always remind me of the november dreariness of freshman year when i was all wrapped up with J, the neurotic piano player from los angeles. parts of “trainspotting” are ruined for me because they remind me of D (specifically, the blur song, dommage). fiona apple and sarah mclachlan? nope, sorry, played more times than i care to say after S dumped me. now elliott smith, on the other hand, also got me thru the S dump, and i still listen to him. but i think that’s because it’s simply impossible to burn out on elliott smith.
the song i had on repeat today was “everybody’s changing” by keane. so heartbreaking. it has momentum and lilting desperation that speaks to me. tom chaplin and his sexy, piggy face. i know i’ll burn out on it like i did with “soul meets body” by death cab but i don’t care. (incidentally, one of the things i love about “soul meets body” is the part where instead of words it goes “dah dah dah”— that’s my kind of song.) keane keane keane. all day long on my ipod: walking to work, walking to the post office, walking home, doing dishes, packing for the weekend. i first heard it in france- perhaps that’s why it feels so good.
repeat songs from my past include “ego tripping at the gates of hell” by the flaming lips (not quite finished with that one yet), “golden” by my morning jacket, “haiti” by arcade fire, “hard to explain” by the strokes, “swear” by moby, “age of consent” by new order, “let down” by radiohead (i think i came close to meeting god once when i heard that one for the 154th time), “anyone who ever loved” by dionne warwick (gets me every time), “float on” by modest mouse, “the model” by belle and sebastian. to name a few.
i’ve noticed lately the large number of ipod users. they’re ubiquitous: on the bus, in the grocery store, joggers, walkers, drivers, even a schmuck at the sushi bar a few weeks ago. but i totally understand. i, too, have to tune out most days. i need to get out of my own head and get away from noisy traffic and inane bus conversations the the general confining sounds of the city. keane will take me home every time.