Oh, Nostalgia

Title of this blog post quotes a lyric from Patrick Stump’s single “Spotlight (Oh Nostalgia)”. You should totally go and listen to it.

I wouldn’t say I was a particularly ‘musical’ person (I dabble in playing the ukulele and was once spent a brief time being a snare drummer in a marching band, as every aspiring dork must), but I take great joy in filling my life with the musical offerings of others.  Whilst discussing my absolute favourite song with a friend (‘Waterloo Sunset’ by The Kinks. I’m not going to bother going into how much I love this song, it won’t be enough) I started thinking about how someone’s love for a song can be tied to their nostalgia of the time they first heard it.

Some of my favourite songs and artists are ones that are less often come across in popular culture. I don’t say this in an obnoxious, “you’ve probably never heard of it”, Hipster Kitty sort of way. It is through no fault of my own that I came across these songs, as they were favourites of my mother during my childhood and were often heard in the car or floating from Mum’s bedroom. It was as a result of this influence that when my sister and I received a mix tape of children’s songs such as “Agadoo” and “The Music Man” for Christmas, the first two songs were our ultimate favourites… “I Love You (Always Forever)” by Donna Lewis and “You’re Gorgeous” by Babybird (which I now realise was probably an odd choice for a three year old).

The previously mentioned “Waterloo Sunset” is a song which I can attach to a certain batch of childhood memories. This song, amongst other of my favourites, was on one of the rarely rotated holiday CDs that would blast through the car anytime my family went camping, in the UK or later France and the Canary Islands. A portion of these holidays would be spent driving round and round and round looking for the perfect secluded beach. I can only assume we never succeeded, because we never returned to any of the beaches we visited. But I digress. The point is, although I have many wonderful and eventful holiday memories, there are also the memories of being stuck in the car bound by the law that asking “are we there yet?” was punishable by being dropped at the side of the foreign road. So what was I to do? Loose myself in the music. I believe it is these holidays that infected me with the deep love of 70s/80s music that I still harbor today.

And it’s not just the old songs I have attached events to. Various events through my teens, for example attending the Royal International Air Tattoo (RIAT) with Air Cadets, come flooding back to me whenever I hear a particular piece of music, in this case “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” by Panic! At The Disco. I can’t hear this song without envisioning the packed mini-bus trundling down the motorway, being squashed up in the front with my then best friend and sharing her mp3 player. Good times.

There are possibly some songs in my long list of favourites I may not have liked under different circumstances. Would I be such a huge Sweet fan had that CD not been playing in the car every time we drove somewhere? If it had been The Smiths instead of The Beach Boys playing on every childhood camping trip, would I be able to name more than none of their songs? While it baffles me when people do not immediately drop to the ground and proclaim their everlasting love for my favourite song, maybe this is because the first time they hear it is in the university library surrounded by revision as opposed to on holiday in the South of France.  

Here’s a list of some my nostalgic songs that I think are absolutely brilliant. Have a listen to the ones you haven’t heard of, and I’d be really interested to know in the comments what you think about them without the nostalgic attachment.

Waterloo Sunset – The Kinks

I Love You (Always Forever) – Donna Lewis

Windy – The Association

Friday On My Mind – The Easybeats

California Dreaming – The Mamas and Papas

Itchycoo Park – Small Faces

Carrie Ann – The Hollies

You’re Gorgeous – Babybird

Sunshine Superman – Donovan

59^th Street Bridge Song (Feeling Groovy) – Harpers Bizarre