The Nostalgia Playlist

A lot has happened since I last wrote... which if you actually know me well enough to talk to me on a semi-regular basis, you probably already know about.  Some good, mostly bad, but it's ok.  I always find that I'm stronger than I give myself credit for, and lately I've been feeling good again (I also have new work that I'm excited about, so that always lifts my spirits).

But that's not what I'm here to talk about.  I'm going to take a break from the present for a moment.

It's always struck me how closely certain songs can be tied to certain memories.  Music has always been a very big part of my life, but I know I'm not alone on this--there are some songs that, when I hear them, have the power to instantly transport me back to a specific time.  And I can remember everything: the sights, the smells, the way I felt at the time... if I close my eyes, I can almost replay it exactly, like a little movie clip excerpt from my life.  The Nostalgia Playlist is a little writing project I started for fun years ago but never finished because it was time consuming haha.  After scouring my entire iTunes library, I came up with a little over 200 songs that I could think of specific memories for, but I narrowed it down as much as I could to the ones that were either particularly vivid or particularly significant.  There are lots of significant songs that get no mention, and lots of significant memories that get no mention, so this is far from a complete list, but it was fun to put together.  :)

In no particular order, from the sublime to the ridiculous, with the sad, the happy, the neutral, the sexy, the painfully awkward, and everything in between... here we go.

CHILDHOOD

• "Flamenco Sketches" by Miles Davis – The first jazz song I ever loved.  It was on a mix cassette tape my dad used to play a lot when I was very little.  The dark green carpet, which I adored and my mother detested, the smell of the wooden coffee table I used to fit under.
• "Modern Dance" by Lou Reed – Dancing around to this song with my cousin in France when I was 10 or so.  I still vividly remember lots of things about that trip—what the house we stayed in looked like, playing ping pong in the back, cicadas on EVERYTHING (jewelry, tablecloths, salt & pepper shakers… everything), lavender fields, swimming at Pont Du Gard and being kind of freaked out at the lack of buoyancy since it was a freshwater aqueduct.
• "What I Am" by Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians – AKA: “cat music” (I used to refer to it as this because the cassette cover had a drawing of a cat on it).  One of my favorite songs when I was little.
• "Solsbury Hill" by Peter Gabriel – Running around under the dining table and in between chair legs to this song when I was little.  The yelling and whooping at the end of the song made me feel wild, so I would pretend I was a creature in the jungle.
• "Ne Nehledej" by Iva Bittová – A song my parents would put on occasionally when I was little.  I was intrigued by the haunting melody, and it would always conjure images of witches dancing in a forest.  Honorable mention to "Hungarian Sketches" by Béla Bartók, which always reminded me of The Hobbit for some reason.
• "Mr. Tambourine Man" by Bob Dylan – Sitting next to my dad’s speakers and harmonizing to this song when I was maybe 6 or 7.
• "Don’t Tell Me" by Madonna, and "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None The Richer – Driving down the scenic route to Los Osos for dentist appointments with my dad.  I didn’t fear going to the dentist quite as much as most kids because my dentist was an incredibly kind man who I sort of looked forward to seeing (also his office was beautiful and had a big fish tank).  He had a very tragic life though, and I still think about him sometimes.
• "Little Wonder" and "I'm Afraid of Americans" by David Bowie – Drives to L.A. with my parents.  The landscape on the album cover reminded me of some of the valleys we'd pass about an hour north of Santa Barbara, and I didn't understand why David was afraid of Americans (I assumed he was one, I didn't realize he was British).
• "Empty Box" by Morphine – Long drives to L.A., back when I measured out time in “Costco trips.”  I always loved the story in this song, particularly the line, “I crossed into a valley so dark that when I look back, I can’t see where I began.  I can’t see my hands, I don’t even know if my eyes are open.”
• "What’s He Building?" by Tom Waits – Similar to “Empty Box,” I always enjoyed the creepy narrative of this song because it was so descriptive.  My dad used to play it a lot when I was little.
• "Sharkey's Day" by Laurie Anderson and "Like A Possum" by Lou Reed – Two particularly quotable songs my dad used to play a lot when I was little.  "Sharkey's Day" was on a record, and I remember the smell of the dust jacket.
• "Silver and Gold" by Neil Young – Driving along Highway 1, overlooking ocean around the Big Sur area.  I never particularly liked Neil Young’s nasal voice, but I always thought this song was beautiful.
• "By The Way" by Red Hot Chili Peppers, and "Without Me" by Eminem – Two songs I vividly remember watching on MTV with my older cousin Marko in Croatia at my aunt and uncle’s smoke-filled apartment in Zagreb, while eating bread and honey.
• "It’s Been One Week" by Barenaked Ladies – But really, who DIDN’T try to memorize this song and recite it as fast as possible to impress friends?  Chickety China the Chinese chicken…
• "Are You Still Mad" by Alanis Morissette – This song always reminds me of my dad’s friend’s daughter Iris for some reason.  She was older than me, had beautiful curly hair, and had a simple tattoo of a circle on her chest, which I always thought was kind of random but cool (I vaguely remember her explaining that it was symbolic for karma—like what goes around comes around).  I only met her once or twice but somehow she made an impression on me.
• "Hallelujah" cover by Rufus Wainwright – My parents were big Leonard Cohen fans, and my dad loved this cover when it came out in Shrek.  He made a recording of it from the movie, which included sounds from the actual movie (characters shuffling, the dragon moaning, etc.), which always made me giggle.
• "Subterranean Homesick Alien" by Radiohead – Driving down to L.A. with my dad and stopping at this beautiful, tucked away restaurant called Cold Springs Tavern in the mountains a little beyond Santa Barbara.  I loved the smell of the place—hickory and redwoods, and that place had the BEST chili.
• "Tom’s Diner" and "Luka" by Suzanne Vega – Two of my favorite songs when I was little.  "Tom’s Diner" was probably the first song I ever memorized.  Honorable mention to “Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman, which I always felt was heartbreakingly beautiful, but which I didn’t fully understand until I was much older.
• "Mambo No. 5" by Lou Bega – This was on a CD that Megan Clark brought to our 5^th grade class on Valentine’s Day (back when Valentine’s day was awesome and all you did was design paper bags with little hearts, exchange silly cards and eat chocolate all day).  It’s kind of one of those songs that you look back on when you’re older and more mature, and wonder why the grown ups let you listen to it.
• "She’s So High" by Tal Bachman – That brief period when I took French lessons at Arisa’s house.  Arisa was big into ancient history and mythology, and she loved the line about Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, and Aphrodite.
• "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton – The 6^th grade trip to Catalina Island.  Snorkeling, garibaldi, the plush sea lion I bought at the gift store.  The day the teachers gathered us in a circle to tell us that the Twin Towers had just gone down.  Not fully understanding what that meant.
• "Bosnia" by The Cranberries – Trips to Avila Beach with my parents when I was little.  Vaguely understanding this song’s significance to my mother (who is Croatian).
• "Youth of the Nation" by P.O.D. – This song was playing a lot on the radio when I was reading The Transall Saga by Gary Paulsen.  To this day, hearing it still makes me think of red sand.

 JUNIOR HIGH – HIGH SCHOOL

• "The World Is Yours" by Andy Grammer – Sitting around a campfire at Bosch Baha’i School in Santa Cruz with Lara, watching Andy perform this song.  We were both very taken with him and bought his EP.  Four or five years later, he got huge when “Keep Your Head Up” came out.  We’re both still kind of proud that we knew him before he was big.
• "We Are Nowhere And It’s Now" and "Poison Oak" by Bright Eyes – The first non-classical concert I ever attended.  Sitting on fog-soaked bleachers at the Santa Barbara Bowl with Max and Julia, shivering partly from cold and partly from delirious excitement.
•  "Suga Suga" by Baby Bash – 8^th grade dance: Jenna jumped up on stage, grabbed the microphone, and dedicated this song to Morgan and me (so inappropriate on so many levels).  We’d been “together” nearly a year, but we were still much too awkward to go any farther than holding each other at arm’s length and avoiding eye contact.  He won me a stuffed dolphin at an arcade game later that night, which became one of my most prized possessions until he broke up with me on my birthday the following year.
• "Girl’s Not Grey" by AFI, "Émigré" by Anti-Flag, "Unholy Confessions" by Avenged Sevenfold, "Under The Knife" by Rise Against – Oh, teen angst.  Largely the result of a 4-year unrequited crush on Chris, the charmingly chivalrous punker kid in the Youth Symphony with an ever-chameleonic mohawk and a heart-melting smile.  Specifically, blasting these on my blue iPod mini in my black, safety pin adorned hoodie on the way to school, or on the brick wall waiting for Youth Symphony to start, and thinking I was hot shit.
• "Nice Day For a Resurrection" by Nekromantix – My first mosh pit at SLO Brew (with Chris, of course).  A similar experience to my first roller coaster (which he also introduced me to): terror, followed by ecstasy, followed by jittery excitement and exclamations of “I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!”  The catharsis, the fascinating juxtaposition of raw aggression and civility (a whole mob helping you to your feet if you fall, when they were only moments earlier physically pushing/punching you with actual force).  Nekroman standing on his coffin bass as he continued to play, flinging sweat from his perfectly coifed pompadour.
• "Caress Me Down" by Sublime, "Anarchy Camp" by NOFX, and "She Has a Girlfriend Now" by Reel Big Fish – Singing these on the bus with Chris on the Canada tour with the Youth Symphony.
• "Zoot Suit Riot" by Cherry Poppin’ Daddies – Senior prom with Chris.  He swung me around the dance floor to this song, and I felt closure.
• "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" by The Darkness – P.E. with Jim and Katie.  “Grassy knoll,” “curve it next time!” and Jim-isms (obvi, totes, ridic, etc).  The off-campus lunch “date?”  Still not sure what that was, but I remember we went to Splash Café and I was wearing my long, brown gypsy skirt a sky blue beaded camisole.
•  "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin – Foggy night with Jenna in Shell Beach.  Tagging an abandoned house in her neighborhood (actually, I was too much of a goody-two-shoes to partake, but I felt like a badass for being present for it).
• "Sandstorm" by Darude, "Zombie Nation" by Kerkraft, and "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" by Daft Punk – every junior high and high school dance ever.
• "Bring Me To Life" by Evanescence – Oh yeah.  You know you all have memories of this song.  Hanging out with friends in the choir room in junior high, singing along to this song and feeling proud that I could reach all the high notes and hold out that long note at the very end without needing to take a breath.
• "Seven Deadly Sins" by Flogging Molly – 24-hour relay.  We were pirates I think?  The second worst sunburn I ever got because I fell asleep in shorts and a tank top on the couch in the middle of the field.  Hating life as I sleep-walked that stupid mile at 3 in the morning, and getting hypnotized for the first time.
• "In The End" by Linkin Park – I loved this song so much I recorded it on my mom’s tape recorder from 107.3 The Rock so I could listen to it whenever I wanted (oh yeah, ANALOG, BITCHES).  You can hate on Linkin Park all you like, but Hybrid Theory was a bloody brilliant album.  No shame.
• "Forgotten" by Linkin Park – Lazy summer days in Croatia, watching dust swirl in sunbeams while laying on my grandparents’ bed and listening to this song on my Walkman.
• "Such Great Heights" cover by Iron & Wine – Mitch, the dreamy, soft-spoken senior from high school choir, singing and playing this song on the ukulele.  His dog, Gustav (after Mahler, naturally).  Calling out chords with the other choir geeks when his sheep bleated together at his going away party.
• "Our Truth" by Lacuna Coil – Hiking up Bishop’s Peak with Garrett.  The smell of his red Pontiac that he swore he was going to sell for like 6 subsequent years.  The worst sunburn I ever had because I was out from 10am until sunset in shorts and a tank top in the middle of summer with no sunscreen (I passed out the next morning from it).  The bear fountain by the Mission which someone had poured dish soap into.  The resulting foam fight.
• "Boten Anna" by Basshunter – Amazingly nerdy Swedish EDM that Lara and I used to sing along to in her car on the way to Linnaea’s or Tacos De Acapulco when we went off campus for lunch in high school.  Honorable mention to "Jooneh Khodet" by Black Cats (hilariously cheesy Persian electro-pop).
• "Lady" by Regina Spektor – Love at first listen.  This song was coming softly from Lara’s earbuds underneath her pillow as she napped on the top bunk at Bosch Baha’i School, where we were helping out her dad for the weekend (he was the head chef).  I was so entranced by this song that I carefully took the iPod out from under the pillow and replayed the song—6 times.  It was the first song I learned to play/sing when I discovered that I could find sheet music for pop songs on the internet.
• "Let Go" by Frou Frou – Jenna, lying on my floor with her arms outspread, saying this song made her feel free.
• "Californication" by Red Hot Chili Peppers – On the long bus ride to Reno, Nevada with the Youth Symphony.  I was listening to this song when we passed by a meat farm (the kind where there’s about an inch of space between each cow, and they all stand and sleep and eat in their own muck).  I was used to seeing cows freely roaming wide pastures and green hills, and as a big animal lover, this was kind of traumatizing.  Probably influenced my decision to become vegetarian a few years later.
• "Sleep" by Eric Whitacre – Still, to this day, one of my most cherished memories.  Singing this song with its original lyrics (Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost) in the sonorous hallway of the old English building under the direction of our beloved choir director, Mr. Lamprecht.  Choir had that unique ability to melt away social differences, and on that particular day, for whatever reason, we were especially united.  Everyone was so focused and in tune with one another, and as a soprano, hitting that high D at the climax of the song and then coming delicately back down was the closest to a religious experience that I’ve ever had.  There was not a dry eye in that room when we finished, and we all had to take a moment to regain composure.

COLLEGE

• "I’ve Got A Feeling" by Black Eyed Peas, and "Disturbia" by Rihanna – Two of the most overplayed songs during WOW week freshman year of college.  Feeling young and reckless.  So many jello shots. 
• "Stiff Kittens" by Blaqk Audio – Witnessing the psychological damage of boot camp on a very drunk friend from high school at a party he hosted freshman year of college after intentionally failing a drug test and getting a less than honorable discharge.  Things got ugly and loud, a table got broken, his girlfriend left in tears.  Before I left, he pulled me aside and slurred an apology, saying that he’d always looked up to me and that he hated that I was seeing him like this.
• "Slam" by Pendulum – Going for drives in Dylan’s Scion box car.  Walking MacGyver (his greyhound) on the beach near Cayucos.  A couple stopping us to ask us about “our” dog.  Blushing.
• "Not A Crime" by Gogol Bordello – The band Kris and I almost started (him on accordion, and me on violin) after becoming friends first through choir, and then the Arab Music Ensemble.  We would have been terrible together for a multitude of reasons, but he always made my heart skip a beat (the guy spoke 4 languages, had that kind of brooding German thing going, and he played accordion for god’s sake, can you blame me?).
• "This Time" by DJ Antoine (Klaas Remix) – Not exactly sober, watching Kris do his tecktonik dance at Bob’s birthday party up at his gorgeous house in the mountains.  Falling all over myself.
• "Hi" by Psapp and "My People" by The Presets – Two of the many (but two of the most memorable) songs I added to my iTunes library on that fateful night I met Barry… on Chatroulette. 
• "The Parachute Ending" by Birdy Nam Nam – Driving down a specific country road that was on a steep hill on the way to Barry’s house in his blue 280ZX.  He’d accelerate along with the music, and try to time it so we’d hit the bump in the road at top speed in time with the drop in the song.  Feeling infinite.
• "Sweet Love" by Ghinzu – Driving around Guadalupe with Barry at some odd hour of the morning.  It was a new friendship which was rapidly turning into something more, though neither of us were able to admit it yet, and this song felt so perfectly, inappropriately appropriate on that foggy night.
• "Where Is My Mind" piano cover by Maxence Cyrin – Sitting on a ledge at the top of a parking structure downtown with Barry late at night and talking for hours.  He taught me a method to get digital “double exposures” in camera by setting a long shutter speed, and covering the lens while the subject moved to a different spot.
• "Odessa" by Caribou – Staying out into the early morning with Barry and walking in the middle of the street because it’s a small town that goes to bed early, and no one was out driving that late.  Pretending we were sitting in a car, making engine sounds, miming turning the wheel and putting on the blinker whenever we turned.
• "Una Musica Brutal" by Gotan Project – It was a rainy weekend, and Barry and I had the house to ourselves, so we cooked a feast together and danced around to Gotan Project (sexiest cooking music ever, in case you were wondering)
• "Lights" by Ellie Goulding (Bassnectar Remix) – My brief and confusing friendship with a local swimsuit designer.  Things were awesome until they got weird.  Lots of wine and yerba mate.
•  "The Parting Glass" by The Wailin’ Jennys – The song my best friend performed at Dan’s funeral.  Memories of going to Paris with them when I was 15.  Remembering his smile, the incredibly insightful advice he used to give, the warmth he seemed to exude… wondering what could possibly drive such a beautiful person to self destruction.  Fighting back tears.  Failing.
• "Help I’m Alive" by Metric – Going down to the painting studio at 10 at night to start and finish my self portrait assignment that was due the next day.  Leaving 8 hours later as the sun was rising, exhausted, but victorious.
• "Yeah Yeah ft. Luciana" by Bodyrox – The reason for the burn hole in my comforter.  That’s all I’m going to say on that one.
•  "Strobe (Radio Edit)" by Deadmau5 – When the rave scene got big in SLO (back when they were held in the middle of nowhere in a forest out in Santa Margarita and everything was passed on by word of mouth—before all the bros invaded and the cops caught on and crashed every party before midnight).
• "We No Speak Americano" by Yolanda Be Cool & Dcup – Pretty much THE song of the summer of 2010.  Danielle introduced it to me when we spent a week in Italy together, and it became our go-to song for every party we hosted at the Lincoln house when we lived together in college.
• "Do You Feel Me" by Tiesto, ft. Julie Thompson – Watching the Italian landscape fly by on the train from Rome to Florence.  Listening to this song in between chapters of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, and trying to ignore the pressure in my ears from the speed of the train.
•  "Twice" by Little Dragon – My first internship in New York, assisting celebrity photographer Timothy White.  On set for a shoot with Rachel Ray.  Lifting/moving/setting up heavy equipment, running errands at Chelsea Market, chatting with the cute set designer who looked like Jean Michel Basquiat.  After a 12-hour day of exhausting physical work, I was still so energetic and high on life that I walked nearly 60 blocks in Manhattan just for the hell of it, listening to music, seeing the sights, and grinning like an idiot.

POST-COLLEGE / NEW YORK

• "Before You Go" and "Swelling" by Sarah Jaffe – Cold, dark winter mornings in New Jersey when I had to get up at 5am and take the bus at 6 to get to Milk Studios in Manhattan by 8.  The smell of the radiator in Elan’s room, breakfasts at a café in Port Authority, watching the sun rise as we crossed the bridge into Manhattan.
• "I Follow Rivers" by Lykke Li – Finding opportunities to go to the bathroom just to sit on a toilet for 5 minutes while working at Milk because I was on my feet so much and for so long that I literally wouldn’t be able to take it anymore (and as an intern, you’re not really supposed to sit, ever, so I had to hide it).  Hearing this song at least 6 times a day and thinking that it was by Santigold until I found out otherwise.
• "Sweet Talk" by Kito & Reija Lee – My summer anthem in New York, when I lived in Bushwick.  Walking to the DeKalb stop to go to work, with this playing on repeat.
• "Feel It All Around" by Washed Out – Ricky’s 50s Pinup photoshoot party on a balmy summer day on a rooftop in Greenpoint.  Making new friends, feeling so alive and adult with lipstick on and a cigarette in my hand.  Walking home barefoot on the gross New York concrete because the heels I was wearing were giving me blisters and I’d made the foolish mistake of neglecting to bring flats.
• "In For The Kill" by La Roux and "Heads Will Roll" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs (A-Track Remix) – Heard these songs about 80 times a day while assisting for Luke (the fashion photographer).  He would put on Pandora for photoshoots, and it was always either the La Roux station or the Pet Shop Boys station (which was so awful it made me want to cry).  Both had a surprisingly limited selection, so we’d hear the same 7 or 8 songs on loop every day.  “Send Me An Angel” by Real Life would have been just as relevant, but I’m trying to block that song out of my memory.
• "Breathe Me" by Sia and "Breathe" by Télépopmusik – Location scouting with Bradley (Luke’s other assistant) in the DUMBO area, and sharing a pizza at Grimaldi’s.  He was very energetic and fun to talk to, and I’m still kind of bummed he had to go back to California.
• "Off To The Races" by Lana Del Rey – Moving from my shitty apartment in Bushwick to my wonderful apartment in Prospect Heights.  Exploring the park.  Sweating in the summer heat.  Smells of cooked leaves, pavement, and trash heaps that, mixed together, reminded me of Croatia.
• "Constellation" by Bird Courage – Found this guy busking in a subway station in Greenpoint, one sweaty summer day in 2013 when Barry was visiting.  I was absolutely entranced by him and bought an EP.
• "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood – My brief, strange and intense friendship with an older sound design professor.  Café-hopping until 3 in the morning.
• "Palace" by Wild Beasts – Attending a short, intimate little free acoustic show by two of the members of Wild Beasts with Tyler at a record store by Cooper Square.  Watching Hayden Thorpe croon into the microphone and suddenly feeling an intense love for everybody and everything.

-  -  -  -  -   UPDATED 4/2/15   -  -  -  -  -

• "All You Deliver" and "Save Your Day" by Jose Gonzalez – Driving back to Mulo from our Istria trip after nightfall in the summer of 2014.  Reflecting on how everything was the same, but different.  It didn't feel like 4 years had elapsed since the last time I was in Croatia; it smelled the same, looked the same, felt the same.  And yet the friends I grew up with were all scattered, everybody suddenly had adult concerns, and my grandparents, both of whom had been alive the last time I visited, were both gone.  It still felt like home, but it felt inexplicably empty.
• "Perfect" by Robert DeLong – Windy and cold at the pier off of Kent and 5th in Williamsburg with Mitch.  It was the end of our fourth date, and he was telling me that he wasn't ready to pursue anything romantic because all that stuff he'd slowly revealed to me over the course of the last few weeks (renouncing his faith, his divorce) had only happened 4 months ago.  Realizing I'd been blinded a bit by the familiarity of his demeanor, his mannerisms, even the way he dressed--and how I had misread his openness in discussing his newfound existentialism as a mark of a deep thinker as opposed to the raw reflections of someone in pain.  Feeling heavyhearted, both for him and for myself, and wondering how long it was appropriate to stand there and stare off at the Manhattan skyline before thanking him for an otherwise wonderful night and parting ways.
• "1998" by Chet Faker – Clubbing with Tyler and the the Kellys at Kinfolk Dome in Williamsburg.  Nate, Tyler's Adam Sandler lookalike friend from California took a liking to me, and we danced the night away like giddy teenagers.
• "Nara" by Alt-J – Halloween, 2014.  Still reeling from Anna's death a few days prior.  Feeling ridiculous in my Jessica Rabbit costume, standing outside Up & Down waiting for Ryan.  Dancing with some guy named Mustafa.  Feeling a little empty.
• "Twenty Four Hours" by Joy Division – Late nights with Nico.  Flickering candles, glass clatter, gin, tattoos, interlaced fingers, carpenter's hands.  A newfound brazenness.  Not knowing, but not wondering either.
• "Wrong or Right" by Kwabs – Scouting for the Uniqlo shoot during an obnoxiously windy day.  Missing Ryan.
• "Can't Say No" by April Smith and the Great Picture Show – Back and forth handwritten calligraphy messages over Whatsapp with Ryan while he was in Brazil.  My heart leaping every time I got that damned little white light notification on my phone, because I knew it was him.  Hope, then disappointment for a return date that always inevitably got pushed back.
• "White Lies" by Odesza, feat. Jenni Potts – Watching Jenna do poi in her living room after a wonderful day at the beach during my visit home in November.  Laughing over old memories with her and thinking to myself what a beautiful person she's become after all her various incarnations over the years.  Heavy clouds, the smell of rain on parched earth, sand in my hair.  Seeing Barry right after, and learning that he had a new girlfriend.  Noticing the subtleties in how different our interaction was from the last time I saw him, but not feeling nostalgic for it.  Not really feeling any particular way about it, actually, except for a mild boredom.  Feeling generally detached from everyone and everything in my hometown.
• "Emkay" by Bonobo – Train rides from Oxford to London in January.  Watching the landscape fly by, thinking how it seemed to sync perfectly to this song, and feeling absolutely free.
• "Ransom Notes" and "Paralysed" by Sohn – The train ride from Oxford to Holyhead on my way to Dublin.  Passing through Wales and being so completely overwhelmed by the beauty of it that I was actually getting choked up.  Bangor seemed especially charming from afar.  The windmill farm off the coast and the Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch sign were also memorable sights.
• "Bloom" by Talos – Wandering around Dublin.  The images and feelings this song brought to mind were somehow in line with my impressions of Dublin, which I suppose is appropriate given that Eoin French (Talos) is from Cork.  There was a layer of condensation on everything; the air itself felt heavy with moisture, but in the way that it does around a waterfall: refreshing and alive, instead of oppressive like in summer heat.  Dark fog interrupted by the bright Dublin doors and storefronts, like geraniums in a sea of gloom.  "Bloom" has an unmistakably sinister tone to it, which I do not associate with Dublin, but there is something foggy and mysterious about it that links the two in my mind.
• "Hot Sand" by Shocking Blue – A song I heard and liked in a funky thrift store in Dublin, which led to a conversation about 1960s protopunk with a tiny Irish chick with 3-inch thick eyeliner and drawn-on bottom lashes.
• "Milk" by Sea Oleena – Finding out that my grandmother passed away.  The tearful Skype call to my parents, sequestering myself in Bob and Melissa's room in an attempt to find what little privacy I could in their small Dublin apartment.  Thinking of her the next day when I went to see the Book of Kells and the Long Room at Trinity College, and trying to find a way to honor her in my travels by living as she would; asking questions, getting lost, and turning everything into an adventure.
• "Whiskey In The Jar" and "Molly Malone," Irish traditional songs – Two of the songs that comprised our soundtrack for the drive up to Northern Ireland with Bob and Melissa.  Passing by beautiful pastoral scenes of sheep on rolling green hills, lighthouses, Norman castles, and quaint towns by the sea.  Drinking hot chocolate with Bailey's by the fireplace in the gigantic 4-bedroom house we stayed in for ₤63 a night in Bushmills (Ballylinny Cottages) right by Giant's Causeway.  The place seemed to be deserted except for us, it was in a very remote location, and the house was so homey and luxurious for the price that it was almost a little creepy.  We watched Over The Garden Wall and joked that the house must be haunted.
• "Rocky Road To Dublin," Irish traditional song – An infamously difficult song, performed by a couple of guys at a pub in Dublin on one of the most memorable nights of my trip.  It wasn't an official performance or anything, it was just three dudes with a guitar, a banjo, and a voice who decided to jam in the back room of O'Donoghue's.  They played a bunch of traditional songs, which nearly everyone there knew by heart, so the whole pub was singing along.  It felt very authentic, and I got a real sense for the community and the warmth of Irish culture.
• "Paris" by Little Dragon – A brief sojourn to California for my grandmother's memorial.  Long walks with my cousin.  Dry heat.  Feeling a deep love for those I am surrounded by, but watching it become increasingly difficult to express it or hold onto it in any way that feels meaningful.  Disconnectedness.  Looking through old photos.  Closure, kind of.
• "Push Pull" by Purity Ring – Getting to know Ian after returning from my trip (we met on New Years).  A promising first date.  Lots of music talk, a similar temperament, an instinctual attraction.
• "Bees" by Warpaint – Up until sunrise.  Crazy adventures.  Mix tapes.  Palpable chemistry.  The train ride back from Astoria, grinning like an idiot.
• "Starstruck" by Santigold – Candles, wine, music, electricity.  Hair in my mouth, breath in my ear.  Bliss.
• "Dawn" by Garth Stevenson – Climbing over a barbed wire fence to break into a sculpture garden in Astoria with Ian at 3 in the morning.  My torn glove.  The way he knew exactly the right moment to tell me I looked beautiful.  Exploring rusty sculpture parts in the scrap yard, drinking wine by the river, pouncing on each other in the snow.  Going back to his place, laying on his bed listening to this, looking at him, feeling a kind of deep happiness and satisfaction like I hadn't felt for years.  Then, practically in the same breath, having all of that torn down in a matter of minutes by a brutal conversation about things I should have been made aware of sooner.  Shaking.  Sleeplessness.  Incense, cigarettes, socks on the radiator.  The curve of his shoulder in the moonlight.
• "Endless Sleeper" by The Raveonettes – Trying unsuccessfully to bend my rules, against my (and everybody else's, including his) better judgement.  All feels right again, temporarily, but it's stunted now, and it's not long before he notices and puts an end to it.  Knowing it was coming, just not that soon.  Rounding the corner (inconveniently right outside my work), and losing it.  The awkward cab ride back home which was half as much as it should have been because the driver took pity on me.  Seeing ghosts of myself and him at that corner every day when I go to work.

To be continued (this is, after all, a project that doesn't really end until I do).