just because you came across it, and lost it

Listening to the postal service always makes me think of sunny march mornings in new york. Wearing sandals out of season, strolling down 23rd to fetch some coffee and look at books and people watch as commuters descend below the streets into subway stations, hail cabs, curb their starbucks cravings. The only souveniers I brought back from that city were music. Album upon album. So many I had to reconsider my luggage....where was the room? The postal service is move-your-feet music. I can’t listen to it without dancing or wiggling, or needing to walk around. It’s too perky to stand still to.

Turin Brakes reminds me of early summer mornings downtown, though there were few. But they always remind of the empowering sense of freedom that being alone gives you. The one where things are really giddy and fun and new but still remain a choose-your-own-adventure. Life just doesn’t feel like that enough.

I’m always put into a bit of a trance listening to Tarkio. It has this knack for being upbeat and quiet at the same time, gets me mellow and excited all at once. I love to sing along to it in the dark, to echo the broody undertones, the shoe-gazey rock vibe. I’m looking forward to the rerelease of all of this material

Elliott Smith’s Fond Farewell always makes me miss my grandfather. It’s strange – I’m usually not at all impacted by the death of a celebrity figure, but losing Elliott Smith left me crying at my desk. His music has been present for years at nearly everything I’d deem to be important. The year I discovered his music, my grandfather died. There were some very long road trips that year, all of which saw Either/Or cranked on my headphones. It was because of him that I discovered Nick Drake (I know, I know....behind the times). But as always, one amazing songwriter leads to another, and another. I had no idea that picking up that first album would change the landscape of music for me forever.

I’m listening to a lot of music today, and revelling a bit in the sentimentality and familiarity of it all. Just like sights and smells, music is the best memory trigger. Everything, but everything, has a soundtrack. Even if it’s only in my head.