Randy and I had one of those conversations that he usually won’t indulge in. The ‘what if ‘ conversations.
For instance, one night I woke him up to tell him that I had a dream that I was William H Macy and asked him if he would still want to have sex with me if I looked like William H Macy. He just threatened me with butt stuff and went back to sleep.
He did indulge me by participating in a version of this game when I asked him if he had to give up one, would he give up his hearing or his vision. Without hesitation he said he’d give his vision up. He said if he could never listen to music again, he didn’t think he’d want to continue his existence.
I get that. I can’t imagine a world without music. I would still give up my hearing over vision though, just for practical reasons. One of us needs to be able to see the dust bunnies gathering in the corners of our house.
I’ve met a few people in my life who have expressed a distaste for ALL music. They don’t like it.
I don’t get that. I suspect they must be dead inside.
Randy and I nearly always have music playing in the house and if there’s no music, we both have a 24 hour internal jukebox. Unfortunately for me, I have no control what my jukebox plays. It’s been stuck on Winter Wonderland for a few days now.
I’ll probably drink tonight. That should fix it.
Anyway, we were discussing the albums we’ve had or heard throughout our lives where we knew every single song on the album. Either because we loved it or because it was forced upon us.
Usually, when I profess to love an album the truth is I love a handful of songs on the album. Still, there are a few where I still know every single song.
When I was a little kid, my dad listened to The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem At Carnegie Hall about a million times. I’m reasonably sure I still know every word to every song on that album, even though it’s been decades since I’ve heard it.
I suspect most women my age had the soundtrack to A Star Is Born. I was 13 years old when that movie came out and I’m pretty sure my mother would still shudder if she ever had to hear it again.
When I was in high school, my dad was obsessed with Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson. I heard the Waylon and Willie album as many times as my mother heard the Barbara Streisand and Kris Kristofferson album.
When I was in the 8th grade, we lived in a townhouse across the street from a Rink’s department store. I got high every morning before school and every evening I went to my neighbors house, put her big cushy headphones on and listened to Aerosmith’s Rocks and Toys In The Attic.
I fell in love with Hole’s Live Through This when I was with my second husband and sang every song on that album over and over. I can’t sing…but it still made me feel good.
I discovered Richard Thompson and listened to Rumor and Sigh and never got tired of it. Every song on that album is wonderful.
London Calling. I can listen to Joe Strummer crow all day long.
Full Moon Fever by Tom Petty.
Flowers In The Dirt by Paul McCartney and Elvis Costello.
All of these albums whether I still like them or even ever liked them still make me feel something very specific. They are part of me.
What albums make you feel? What albums do you still know every word to every song?
edited to add: I have NO idea how I forgot to include The River by Bruce Springsteen. That was such an important album to me.
DAMMIT..and Purple Rain. Every song. Every word.
Also, there was this compilation album I had when I was little that I played a zillion times. I don’t remember the name of the album but it had songs like My Grandfather’s Clock and The Cat Came Back on it.
My very first record was Dizzy by Tommy Roe. I was 5. I fucking loved that song.
Little Earthquakes by Tori Amos
Doolittle and Surfer Rosa by The Pixies
Bad Music for Bad People by The Cramps (Joey LOVED The Cramps at 5 months old)
The Ramones by The Ramones