Ala Steve Almond: 5 Songs that Saved Me

Which is not to say they are my favorite or even good, though I happen to think some of them are-- in their own sort of way. The fact of the matter is, as Steve Almond points out in his book, Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life, these songs make me feel and smell and taste the time in which I heard them. These songs are the songs that transport me, almost immediately, to another self.

1. The Judds, Mama He’s Crazy

In the early nineties, my mother drove a metallic blue Buick with a barely functioning cassette deck and velvety blue seats. Riding shotgun, I cranked the volume knob as far right as it would go while my sisters, still in car seats, covered their ears in the backseat. The sultry harmonies of mother and daughter filled the car, the bluesy voices of The Judds wafting out the open windows, the sweet smell of springtime wafting in.


2.Matchbox 20, Girl Like That
I was sixteen when I went to writing camp and the kind of student who, at sixteen, spends her summer at writing camp. Embarrassed by my perceived lack of taste, musical and otherwise, I packed just one CD in my big round player and listened to it for two weeks straight, during which time I lusted after a boy who wrote poetry and made me watch the sun rise. The effortless vocals of Rob Thomas lulled me to sleep and to write and for the first time in my adolescence, I came to see myself as a writer.

3. Alanis Morissette, You Outta Know
When I was fourteen and virginal, I listened to Jagged Little Pill in my bedroom, scribbling my rage onto the legal pads I used primarily for debate. When Morissette’s melodic screams screamed “fuck,” I turned the volume down so as not to alarm my parents, but I mouthed it with growing pleasure. After I turned twenty-one, You Outta Know became and remains my number one choice for karaoke, followed closely by Ironic—

4. Oasis, Wonderwall
which is ironic, given the reason Oasis makes the list. It was like
raaaiiin, on my wedding day, except it was rain, and the DJ couldn’t set up. Matt never dances, but had learned a series of fancy dips he wanted to show off. Our friends gathered in a circle and sang the only song they knew most of the words to, which happened to be Wonderwall. They sounded the way all groups of people sound when they sing together, beautiful and whole.

5. The New Pornographers, Challengers

In 2008, I became part of my first music festival, Sasquatch, at the Gorge. For three days, I didn’t shower or sleep, instead sipping cheap beer from plastic cups and questioning Canadians about their health care system (a topic I cared deeply about, I’ll note, before it became “cool”). When Neko Case stormed the stage, the audience became one, which seemed significant despite the copious amount of substance abuse happening around me. I felt bigger than my sweaty self, more profound, more complete, more music loving.