Wow.

[feuervogel]

So, with the 90-minute commute I've had the last month or so, I've been going through my CDs and listening to ones I haven't in ages, or just don't listen to enough in general.

Yesterday it was Pretty Hate Machine, which I played the hell out of in high school (that and the Downward Spiral.)

Sitting in my car with Nine Inch Nails blasting out the speakers, it was almost like I was 16 again. I could see why the younger me was so drawn to it, and look at that little bit of history like an interesting rock I picked up off the ground. I mean, damn but Trent Reznor spoke to my teen angst. (What? I had angst as a teen! I just never really thought I did at the time, I guess.)

Is that what people who associate X with Y feel when they experience X again? It's a completely new thing for me.

Comments

[quinfirefrorefiddle]

I still can't listen to Billy Joel's "Goodnight Saigon" because I listened to it over and over again when I thought one of my best friends was getting deployed and it brings all the fear back- but I'm not sure that's the same thing. I've always mostly listened to classic rock, so the stuff I listen to now I have memories of hearing as an 8 year old.

[feuervogel]

I've never had strong associative memories. Of course there are things that remind me of other things (the smell of diesel is inextricably linked with my truck-driver father, for example), but nothing as, I don't know, visceral? as listening to that CD and it being 1992 again. I mean, I don't walk past an 18-wheeler idling in a parking lot and am suddenly transported to 1989 or something on a trip with my dad. It's just nostalgic.

(Then it reminded me of the quote war a friend in college and I had. He'd leave Tori Amos lyrics on my door, and I'd leave NIN lyrics on his. It should be noted that I don't dislike Tori; it was a mutual teasing thing.)

My best friend from HS listened to the classic rock station, and we played the heck out of a couple Beatles cassettes on a work mission at Red Bird. And REM.

[quinfirefrorefiddle]

There are certain songs that I specifically remember listening to in certain circumstances- in my parents' cars, while driving between houses after the divorce, for example. Those are generally good memories, because listening to music meant I wasn't getting grilled about whatever. (And a few are happy memories, like singing along to "Werewolves of London" with mom.)

There are other songs that have different associations- Santana's "Why Don't You and I" has memories of riding around in my best friend's car, laughing so hard pop was coming out of my nose. Or singing "Lean on Me" at a Wednesday night church service in college, arms around my friends, giggling at the band's antics.

[tsubasa.livejournal.com]

This happens to me with smells. I have some old bottles of lotion that are almost empty and a half-emtpy thing of lipgloss that I used in high school. Open them up and take a whiff, and I am 17 again. So I sort of know what you mean.

[feuervogel]

Yes, just like that! I've never been particularly introspective or had anything resembling associational memories before. It's very weird.

[anacoluthon.livejournal.com]

YES. Oil of Olay has this body wash that smells like my first boyfriend. I don't really want to smell him, and I don't buy their stuff really, but sometimes I'll be visiting someone and will smell it and it's like I'm being hit in the head with a memory of Matt Kelley.

I have many many music/scent triggers like that. I could probably list several dozen.

[tsubasa.livejournal.com]

Black Cherry lipgloss from the Body Shop smells like winterguard practice to me. In the lower gym at my high school.

Diesel exhaust from buses smells like band trips. I actually *like* the smell of diesel exhaust because of this fact.

I have an ancient tube of Mary Kay eye makeup remover that smells like both winterguard but moreso Rocky Horror. That scary changing room up behind the screen where I would descend from in my Frank heels during the Time Warp...

I am trying to think of more but failing at the moment. Music reminds me of things, but it doesn't really transport me in time/place the way smells do.