Music is my memory. The pseudoscience of the mind would tell us that our memories are intertwined with sentimental rhythmic pulses from life experiences. I know that certain records do better than pictures and court certified transcripts to bring back the vivid, palpable stage pieces from long past scenes in my life. Some of them well up very happy memories, like flipping a switch, and others are predictably painful. It’s as though my brain were an instrument that I could use to play out a performance in recalling a lifetime by leafing through my CD collection. These albums trigger very specific sensations from those times like sight, emotion, and even taste. These occur to me without intention and the recollection is unmistakable.

Some of my records are off-limits; maybe I really like the songs but the baggage is too heavy. I wince just seeing the cover and I don’t want to go there. Fortunately there are many more that I love queuing up because they connect me to special friends and the definig times of my character. I didn’t necessarily appreciate some of the bands at first, but they grew on me (despise, tolerate, love). So there are bands I have tagged with special friends: Matt = Cocteau Twins and Love & Rockets, Jenny = Deee-Lite and Luscious Jackson, Mido = Gus Gus, Kim = Siouxsie, Josh = Hole and Public Enemy, Seza = Peter Gabriel and Depeche Mode, Guy = Nirvana, and so on. You’ve really accomplished something if I’ll go out and buy a record because of how you’ve affected me.