THE PLAYLISTS OF MY LIFE – TEEN EDITION

Music has always been a huge part of my life. I get it from my dad. He loved music; had a pretty great vinyl collection at one point too. He was always singing, and so passionately; he made you just feel the music. My love and appreciation only grew during my teen angst years. I had an anthem for every infatuation and heartbreak, as well as for every perceived parental infraction.

The first song I remember that took on a personal meaning to me was “Cool it Now” by New Edition. Now mind you, as I said, even at the tender age of 11 years old I was a pretty well-rounded musical connoisseur thanks to my father’s eclectic tastes. So, you might think why this bubble-gum pop song caught my heart? Well, let’s face it, it is very catchy, and there’s something about the whole feel of the song that just embodies the essence of that first pre-teen crush. I challenge anyone listening to it, to not picture their first crush, the rush of emotions when you saw them; the pure giddiness at the thought of your first kiss. I remember standing on the ledge of our huge old stone fireplace, as my stage. I had my brush microphone in hand, singing with all the emotion my eleven-year-old little heart could muster; all the while picturing him. Abe, one of the boys my mom babysat. Every time I hear this song I’m transported back to that innocent crush. How my stomach was filled with butterflies at the thought of holding his hand. Even though I subsequently had my very first heartbreak when Billy accused him, (on the playground in front of everyone), of “like-liking” me and he responded, by saying vehemently, “No way! She’s the ugliest girl in the class!”. Wow. Dagger to the heart. Not going to lie, that one did some serious damage. Nevertheless, it didn’t take away from the nostalgia of the song that captured the moment of my first crush. And that’s how music softens and heals our life, our soul.

Two years later, when I’d grown out of my pre-teen awkwardness and grew a pretty decent set of boobs; I had my revenge when Abe realized he may have missed out, and awkwardly tried to kiss me in our old laundry room, outback. I rejected his advances with a wicked smile in my heart. That night, I broke out my dad’s old Gloria Gaynor record, “I will survive”, and imagined his face as I sang my power. It is arguably the best “I’m over you, revenge song” ever created. Every woman from boomer to gen Z should know all the lyrics to this song and relate to its message. As I stood in front of my bedroom mirror in my guess jeans and Madonna-eques lace top and sang the lyrics to this song… I could feel my girl power grow by the second. I felt strong, beautiful, and independent.

There are so many songs that make me relieve a memory, especially, from my teen years. One song I would return to throughout my teen years whenever I was upset with my parents for hindering my independent growth was “My life” by Billy Joel. I know the song probably wasn’t really intended to be sung from the point of view of a teenager to a parent. The first few lines don’t’ fit, but if you listen to the lyrics of the chorus, it’s a teenage freedom anthem if ever there was one:

“I don't need you to worry for me cause I'm alright

I don't want you to tell me it's time to come home

I don't care what you say anymore this is my life

Go ahead with your own life leave me alone.”

And I would blast my stereo and belt out those words as loud as I could when I was mad at my parents. There was a definite kind of satisfaction of singing to them what I could never actually say to their faces, especially my mom’s; not without a death wish anyway.

Then there were the feel-good rebellious anthems like “girls just wanna have fun” by Cyndi Lauper. So many sleepovers at my best friend’s house dancing in pajamas as we scream-sang those lyrics. Oh how, that song still makes me crank up the radio and long for the days when all my heart desired was a little freedom and my worries were as serious as my “D” in English.

Then there are the songs that just captured the essence of an era like a kind of musical time capsule. One that always stands out for me was “Supersonic” by JJ Fad. For me, it represented my introduction to the rap genre. These were female rappers. Strong, cool, free. That’s what they represented to me. My two best friends and I spent hours upon hours learning a dance routine to this song: memorizing every word, even the speed rapping at the end. Of course, we only ever performed it in our living rooms, but it didn’t matter when we did, we knew we were “the bomb”!

A few years later, we did a similar thing to Janet Jackson’s song, “Control”. This time we ventured into the public arena when we proudly memorialized our musical debut at the county fair at one of those music video recording booths, complete with music video special effects. We knew we crushed it. That song still makes me remember how great it felt in front of that camera with my two best friends singing about taking “control” of our lives and the freedom that was just around the corner.

For me, it never really mattered how old a song was or what genre; the only thing that mattered was whether it spoke to me on some level. It could be that I can relate it to a specific situation, or maybe it just makes me connect with a certain feeling or it makes me daydream about scenarios I long for. To this day I have so many songs on various playlists. Some songs remind me of an event in my life; others evoke a familiar feeling or a daydream from the past.

For example, every time I hear “The lady in red” by Chris De Burgh, it conjures memories of a daydream I used to have for my sweet sixteen. Me in an amazing gown; the center of attention. My current crush, taken with my beauty and all the attention I’m receiving. It culminates with us dancing intimately while the world falls away. It never actually happened but the essence of what this song makes me feel and remember is my desire to feel special and to be noticed.

Another example is the song “The cars that go boom” by L’trimm. "What song", did you say? I know it’s not one of the most famous, but the sound of that song brings back vivid memories of “cruising” on Whittier Blvd Saturday night. Driving in our own car with my two best friends blasting the music and flirting with guys in nearby cars. Was there anything better? the pounding bass that you could “feel” in your chest. The essence of youth, freedom, and bad-ass bass is captured in every pounding beat.

Some songs don’t provide any connection to the lyrics, but the event that occurred when you first heard the song marks your memory branding it forever. “Poison” by Bel Biv Devoe, is like that for me. When I hear this song, my mind immediately goes to the day I met what would be my future husband. I can see myself there at skate junction, in my daisy dukes, skating like the wind around the rink. No parents in sight. Just me and my girlfriends looking to scam. All that meant to us was maybe a kiss in the parking lot. I remember seeing him clumsily skating, one foot pushing like he was on a skateboard. I remember the feeling of elation when his friend skated over to tell me he thought I was “fine”. I remember how sweet that blue icee he bought me tasted, filled with the promise of first love. It all comes back in miraculous detail when I hear that song.

Then there are the songs that speak directly to you as if the artist had some telepathic link to your emotions. One song that captures the essence of a major event in my life is the song “Papa don’t preach” by Madonna. I think of this song as almost the theme song for the official ending of my childhood. I remember cry-singing this song in the bathroom after finding out I was pregnant at 19 years old. The lyrics spoke directly to my fear of telling my parents, especially my father, who I adored. I was his princess. He understood me and encouraged me in a way that no one else did. When I saw myself through his eyes; I was beautiful, I was smart, I was enough. The idea of disappointing him was overwhelming. However, all that fear was a waste of time; my father didn’t disappoint. His response to my “I’m pregnant” statement, was “It's ok”, “I love you”, and “we will figure it out”; underscored with a kiss and a long hug. I can’t listen to that song, without being transported back to that moment. First the overwhelming feeling of fear of disappointment, then ultimately, the feeling of standing in my father’s arms, safe, completely accepted for who I was; I was perfect.

That’s why I know that music will always be a part of my everyday life. It breathes expression, vitality, love, rage, passion, and inspiration into my soul by giving my deepest emotions a voice, a meaning, a song, and sometimes an anthem. It captures moments and memories as well as any picture, better even because you use all your whole body of senses including your imagination. I have a lifetime of songs etched in the memories of my heart; they tell the story of me in perfect musical harmony. The playlists of my life.