The scary part about the whole thing is that you can't always choose which songs end up on the soundtrack. I've got some powerful memories associated with songs I'd frankly never listen to but for those memories.
On the other hand, whenever I hear CCR, I'm instantly transported back to the fun feeling of driving fast on summer nights with the windows down and the freedom that used to be summer vacation, but its more a generic feeling than a concrete moment. I've got some pretty specific memories associated with the 2nd side of Kate Bush's The Dreaming, but can't get into that on a "G" rated forum.
In this vein, there was a book titled Songbook a while back by Nick Hornby (who also wrote Hi-Fidelity, made into a movie starring John Cucsac (sp?)) that cataloged the relevance of certain songs in his life. Its not exactly the same thing, because it isn't just this-song-was-playing-when-I-kissed-my-first-girl, but its an interesting and easy read.
The thread also brought to mind a quote by one of The Doors (can't remember which one). I gather JM did something weird in the sense that all members of the band own equally in the song rights (odd in that in most bands the writer gets the sole rights to the song), which means the three remaining members have to sign off on any requests for use of the songs. This particular member was basically saying you will never hear a song by THe Doors in a commercial, because they don't want to dilute people's memories. He was relating how powerful it was to him to have people shake his hand and say "I'll never forget Light My Fire/Strange Days/whatever" because it was the song that way playing when I stepped off the transport plane in Vietnam/kissed my first girl/whatever. I think the dilution concept has some validity, myself.
Oh yeah, and a hearty Bronx cheer goes out to all those women in my prior life who managed to indelibly stamp bad memories on great albums that I can now never listen too again...
On the other hand, whenever I hear CCR, I'm instantly transported back to the fun feeling of driving fast on summer nights with the windows down and the freedom that used to be summer vacation, but its more a generic feeling than a concrete moment. I've got some pretty specific memories associated with the 2nd side of Kate Bush's The Dreaming, but can't get into that on a "G" rated forum.
In this vein, there was a book titled Songbook a while back by Nick Hornby (who also wrote Hi-Fidelity, made into a movie starring John Cucsac (sp?)) that cataloged the relevance of certain songs in his life. Its not exactly the same thing, because it isn't just this-song-was-playing-when-I-kissed-my-first-girl, but its an interesting and easy read.
The thread also brought to mind a quote by one of The Doors (can't remember which one). I gather JM did something weird in the sense that all members of the band own equally in the song rights (odd in that in most bands the writer gets the sole rights to the song), which means the three remaining members have to sign off on any requests for use of the songs. This particular member was basically saying you will never hear a song by THe Doors in a commercial, because they don't want to dilute people's memories. He was relating how powerful it was to him to have people shake his hand and say "I'll never forget Light My Fire/Strange Days/whatever" because it was the song that way playing when I stepped off the transport plane in Vietnam/kissed my first girl/whatever. I think the dilution concept has some validity, myself.
Oh yeah, and a hearty Bronx cheer goes out to all those women in my prior life who managed to indelibly stamp bad memories on great albums that I can now never listen too again...