When my husband and I first got together we spent a lot of time messaging and asking each other fun questions because we were long distance. One night I asked him: If there was a playlist that “felt” like you which 20 songs would it include. The list he sent back the next day felt like a hug because a lot of them I had never heard before and I listened to it often as a way of feeling close to him. Nine years later I still have that playlist - saved as just his name - and it still feels so comforting to me to listen to it when he’s far away. He didn’t take the challenge lightly. It does “feel” like him. We also have an “Us” mix that includes the song that was playing the first time we danced together, our wedding song, songs we’ve sang together on road trips in the car, that we’ve
Waltzed to in the kitchen and listen to separately when we’re apart that remind us how special our relationship is. We both add to it when we hear songs that remind us of each other and we now think it feels like all of the magic the “us” of us is.
As far as music to share that I think you might like - Joshua Radin. I discovered him around the time I discovered Gregory Alan Isokov and both touch my heart in similar ways. Check out “ Everything’s Going to be Alright”, “Winter” and “What If You” on his We Were Here album. You might love him too. Also a Sleeping At Last song called “North” is the song I walked down the aisle to. It feels like love.
I get that soundtrack feel when I’m driving down a dark back road, in the summer, with the windows down, playing Pink Moon by Nick Drake. It is the perfect late night to I’m-the-only-car-on-the-road feel. Similar to your Frightened Rabbit experience, the first time I heard A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley, I cried and replayed it over and over until I could scream the lyrics, because it was the first song I heard that so accurately depicted how my depression and anxiety felt, and I highly recommend it to anyone who struggles with mental health, or just feels sad sometimes.
Music has been a huge part of my life. I started taking piano lessons at 6 and my sister and I studied it very seriously, practicing hours every day - both of us have music degrees and she continues to perform occasionally on the side. I listen to a huge variety and for different purposes - music to run to, to drive to work (to wake me up), to drive home from work (to calm me down), when I’m cooking, sitting outside with a drink/ many drinks, music that I associate with particular people or feelings, etc. I have also thought about soundtracks to moments in my life. I recall a time years ago when I lived in Toronto, walking along a main street listening to Barber’s Adagio for Strings so loud that I couldn’t hear the traffic or anything except the music. It was completely surreal, especially when it got to the intense climax, if you know the piece (has been used in several movies e.g. Apocalypse Now), this glorious music soaring through me while all around me was mundane traffic and people hurrying along, huge stores and tall buildings. I often find that some pieces of music can totally capture, encompass a moment, thought or feeling more than my consciousness can ever express with words, as if the music has opened a window of sudden understanding.
By the way, I, too, was a bit of a weird kid and am still a bit of a weird adult (but I’m good at hiding it, I think). But I don’t have a playlist called “Sleepy Toots”… did you mean to call it “Sleepy Tunes”??
My soul is shouting from the rooftop right now with how MUCH I relate to this!! I have always wished for this exact thing! My connection to music is deeper than probably anything else. This list of music that has changed my life is endless. But I will say, "Can't Love, Can't Hurt" by Augustana is one of my all-time favorite albums. It immediately settled into my soul the first time I heard it many years ago, and has since seen me through so many phases of life. I keep finding little nuances, understanding the lyrics more deeply. Most of my favorite music goes years back...because nostalgia is huge for me when I think of meaningful music. Music that has seen me through ups and downs, the albums I go back to over and over, never tire of...those are the ones that linger. That give me the strength to carry on. That make life somehow make more sense, even amidst all the chaos. I love so many kinds of music, so many sounds of so many voices, so many instruments. Music can capture the full range of human emotion and the human experience. It is quite possibly the closest thing we have to magic (aside from love, haha). That is why it calls to us so deeply.
I fell in love with disco music back in the 1970s. Such a happy genre, it always makes me smile and has seen me through the vicissitudes of life. My life soundtrack, however, would probably be a lot of Dave Grusin.
I have always contained another world inside myself. Words and music give voice to this world. Music brings me back to particular memories. Music also creates an acknowledgment that someone else has felt as I have. I am in love with symphonic arrangements, as the instruments bring voice to my emotions. When played I hear different emotions with every instrument. When they are all together, welcome to my inner world with every emotion bouncing off one another. When current artists like Gregory Alan Isakov or Brandi Carlile sing along to these symphonic arrangements the effect is heightened. If you have ever heard the instrumental symphonic ending to Pride and Joy by Brandi Carlile, you have heard the auditorial representation of the inner pathways of my emotions. The crescendos. The decrescendos. Like heartbeats. When my soul sings, it sounds like Brandi Carlile’s voice. Lyrics also play a major role in my musical tastes. I am a sucker for a poetic line. My favorite lyricist is Chris Pureka. She brings voice to my darkness, or in her words “We’re in love with our sadness sometimes”. Her song Blind Man’s Waltz is pure genius. I wouldn’t be able to be a productive member of society without musical release. Whether by purging or by recharging, music is the most useful tool in my mental health toolbox. A necessity of epic proportions.
When my husband and I first got together we spent a lot of time messaging and asking each other fun questions because we were long distance. One night I asked him: If there was a playlist that “felt” like you which 20 songs would it include. The list he sent back the next day felt like a hug because a lot of them I had never heard before and I listened to it often as a way of feeling close to him. Nine years later I still have that playlist - saved as just his name - and it still feels so comforting to me to listen to it when he’s far away. He didn’t take the challenge lightly. It does “feel” like him. We also have an “Us” mix that includes the song that was playing the first time we danced together, our wedding song, songs we’ve sang together on road trips in the car, that we’ve
Waltzed to in the kitchen and listen to separately when we’re apart that remind us how special our relationship is. We both add to it when we hear songs that remind us of each other and we now think it feels like all of the magic the “us” of us is.
As far as music to share that I think you might like - Joshua Radin. I discovered him around the time I discovered Gregory Alan Isokov and both touch my heart in similar ways. Check out “ Everything’s Going to be Alright”, “Winter” and “What If You” on his We Were Here album. You might love him too. Also a Sleeping At Last song called “North” is the song I walked down the aisle to. It feels like love.
I get that soundtrack feel when I’m driving down a dark back road, in the summer, with the windows down, playing Pink Moon by Nick Drake. It is the perfect late night to I’m-the-only-car-on-the-road feel. Similar to your Frightened Rabbit experience, the first time I heard A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley, I cried and replayed it over and over until I could scream the lyrics, because it was the first song I heard that so accurately depicted how my depression and anxiety felt, and I highly recommend it to anyone who struggles with mental health, or just feels sad sometimes.
Music has been a huge part of my life. I started taking piano lessons at 6 and my sister and I studied it very seriously, practicing hours every day - both of us have music degrees and she continues to perform occasionally on the side. I listen to a huge variety and for different purposes - music to run to, to drive to work (to wake me up), to drive home from work (to calm me down), when I’m cooking, sitting outside with a drink/ many drinks, music that I associate with particular people or feelings, etc. I have also thought about soundtracks to moments in my life. I recall a time years ago when I lived in Toronto, walking along a main street listening to Barber’s Adagio for Strings so loud that I couldn’t hear the traffic or anything except the music. It was completely surreal, especially when it got to the intense climax, if you know the piece (has been used in several movies e.g. Apocalypse Now), this glorious music soaring through me while all around me was mundane traffic and people hurrying along, huge stores and tall buildings. I often find that some pieces of music can totally capture, encompass a moment, thought or feeling more than my consciousness can ever express with words, as if the music has opened a window of sudden understanding.
By the way, I, too, was a bit of a weird kid and am still a bit of a weird adult (but I’m good at hiding it, I think). But I don’t have a playlist called “Sleepy Toots”… did you mean to call it “Sleepy Tunes”??
My soul is shouting from the rooftop right now with how MUCH I relate to this!! I have always wished for this exact thing! My connection to music is deeper than probably anything else. This list of music that has changed my life is endless. But I will say, "Can't Love, Can't Hurt" by Augustana is one of my all-time favorite albums. It immediately settled into my soul the first time I heard it many years ago, and has since seen me through so many phases of life. I keep finding little nuances, understanding the lyrics more deeply. Most of my favorite music goes years back...because nostalgia is huge for me when I think of meaningful music. Music that has seen me through ups and downs, the albums I go back to over and over, never tire of...those are the ones that linger. That give me the strength to carry on. That make life somehow make more sense, even amidst all the chaos. I love so many kinds of music, so many sounds of so many voices, so many instruments. Music can capture the full range of human emotion and the human experience. It is quite possibly the closest thing we have to magic (aside from love, haha). That is why it calls to us so deeply.
I fell in love with disco music back in the 1970s. Such a happy genre, it always makes me smile and has seen me through the vicissitudes of life. My life soundtrack, however, would probably be a lot of Dave Grusin.
I have always contained another world inside myself. Words and music give voice to this world. Music brings me back to particular memories. Music also creates an acknowledgment that someone else has felt as I have. I am in love with symphonic arrangements, as the instruments bring voice to my emotions. When played I hear different emotions with every instrument. When they are all together, welcome to my inner world with every emotion bouncing off one another. When current artists like Gregory Alan Isakov or Brandi Carlile sing along to these symphonic arrangements the effect is heightened. If you have ever heard the instrumental symphonic ending to Pride and Joy by Brandi Carlile, you have heard the auditorial representation of the inner pathways of my emotions. The crescendos. The decrescendos. Like heartbeats. When my soul sings, it sounds like Brandi Carlile’s voice. Lyrics also play a major role in my musical tastes. I am a sucker for a poetic line. My favorite lyricist is Chris Pureka. She brings voice to my darkness, or in her words “We’re in love with our sadness sometimes”. Her song Blind Man’s Waltz is pure genius. I wouldn’t be able to be a productive member of society without musical release. Whether by purging or by recharging, music is the most useful tool in my mental health toolbox. A necessity of epic proportions.