music, music, music

I’ve been thinking about my life’s soundtrack — the songs that have played in the background as I lived through various eras in my life so far. My still new car still has it’s free trial satellite radio connection, and I find that the only station I really listen to is the 1950s one. With each song, my being remembers the feeling of when I heard it played all those decades ago. I don’t necessarily remember events; I remember feelings. That’s the magic of music.
I have discovered that many of the songs from subsequent decades that I still like to listen to are the ones written by Leonard Cohen. Not sung by him, but written — or co-written — by him. They seem to generate the most visceral emotional response.
I’m thinking particularly of the songs on Jennifer Warnes’ Famous Blue Raincoat all-Leonard-Cohen-album, which was a gift from Myrln.
Simon and Garfunkel were major players in my 60s and 70s head — poignant and soulful and melancholy: “Cloudy,” “Bookends,” “Patterns,” “America.”
And Don McClean with his “And I Love You So” and “Winterwood” and “Vincent.”
Judy Collins singing “Suzanne” and”Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye” and “Sisters of Mercy” ….. — music that took me through bittersweet 70s.
Over the past decade or so, especially those years taking care of my mother, I haven’t been listening to much music. There is no stereo in her rooms, and I spend a great deal of my time there with her, watching television.
Occasionally, in my own space, I listen to Josh Groban. “Vincent,” again.
I’m finally starting to download songs into my MP3 player, but it’s not any new music that I want to listen to. I want to hear the old songs, the ones that bring me to remembering when I had a real life.