music

Music as Memory

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Sunday funday… wait, what day is it? Oh yeah, it’s Sunday… phew

Here in Los Angeles, we’re on this permanent lockdown of sorts, so pardon me…

But yes, let’s return to Sunday Funday even though days of the week don’t matter that much to me right now…

Anywho, my husband and I are preparing to BBQ so randomly, I decided to listen to some music I used to listen to ALL THE TIME, and when I say all the time, I mean it. My iPod was permanently attached to my ears from ages 25-28, which would explain my hearing loss but I digress.

Music was everything to me then. I was single, living alone and working my ass off in post production and filmmaking. I had little time for anything else but music was my constant. And listening now to some of those songs that comforted me then, ones I listened to on repeat like Death Cab For Cutie’s “Transatlanticism” or “Fool on the Hill” by the Beatles or “Goodbye to Romance” by Ozzy or any LCD Soundsystem album, is like a blast to the past.

Music is a time capsule unlike any other.

I flashed to the walks I would take to the bank and having an answering/fax machine or printing directions when I was going far… it all came crashing back and it was a wave of love… love of another time, another way of living, a younger me who I think would be proud of the 42 year-old-me, though if I told her about this pandemic and Donald Trump was president, she would have laughed like I was crazy…

And speaking of crazy, music is a God send, no? Pardon me as I go listen to Flaming Lips “Do you realize??” and remember Silver Lake days of indie rock music, Barefoot wine and MNRC – Monday Night Record Club.

 

My first concert

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The year was 1994. I was sixteen years old and had been immersing myself in music – cassettes at the time were the big thing. CDs were around but hadn’t yet caught on enough to knock out tapes. We all owned portable tape decks. The sporty yellow ones were really cool at the time.

Today, I was transported back to that time period because Dolores O’Riordan, lead singer of The Cranberries, died suddenly at the young age of 46.

She was my very first concert ever, where she was lead singer and guitarist for The Cranberries and they had just released their album No Need To Argue.

I’d venture to bet most people remember their first live music concert.

Mine was magical. The band played at a venue in Los Angeles that wasn’t incredibly large so there weren’t many “bad seats.”

The night was dark – it may have even rained earlier – and a friend and I had parked my Toyota Tercel in the over-priced parking lot before heading inside.

I vividly recall the energy of the room. I have no memory who opened for them but I do remember when The Cranberries took the stage, the crowd jumped to their feet and the room was captivated. The walls pulsed from the original rock music we all were witnessing. Dolores and band did not fail to deliver.

In hindsight, I realize why I liked her so much. She wasn’t like everyone else. She sang about the voices in our heads and looked the way she wanted to. She was so cool to me.

It’s incredible how music can transport us back in time.

Perhaps the power of memory is magnified when music is involved because there is definitely something about it that can stir the soul deep down, getting to a place not much else can.

As I watched the clip below of The Cranberries performing on Dave Letterman’s show, only a few months after I saw them live in 1994, I found myself not only taken back in time but also profoundly moved. Dolores’s voice had helped me through dark teenage times and was a source of enjoyment during a time period I didn’t much enjoy. (I didn’t care for highschool…)

Thank you, Dolores, and The Cranberries, for being a large part of the happiness of my youth. You’ve since remained a classic album among my favorites of favorites.

May you RIP.

The Cranberries on Letterman 1994

#thecranberries #doloresoriordan