Take Me Back

What does an old song say about the old you?

Here’s a question: What does an old song say about the old you? 

Imagine this: You're in aisle 3 of the grocery store reaching for a packet of orzo pasta when a song on the speaker—a song you haven't heard in a while—worms its way into your head. 

You freeze. 

You're no longer reaching for pasta—no. It's 10, 20 or even 30 or 40 years ago and you're back slow-dancing in the high school gym. The love of (what you thought was) your life is pulling you close, the lights down low, the disco ball spinning above your heads. You're filled with longing then: the sadness, the joy, the nostalgia for innocence lost, or for the one who got away, or for that kid you used to be. You can see the swaying dancers, smell the sweat, hear the words of that old familiar song.

What song is it? Who's it by? And why does it have the power to transport you from the Italian aisle at Sobeys to 30 years ago in a muggy high school gym?

That song for me…

That song for me is Elton John's 1970s Someone Saved My Life Tonight. The scene is a summer sailing club not a high school—outside, August stars are bright in the sky and waves are lapping against the transoms of boats. "You're a butterfly," Elton sings. "And butterflies are free to fly..." I know every word, can sing the entire song. 

…Or maybe it's later, in the '80s in university. I'm in a bar on campus, too much tequila, and Dead or Alive is thumping You Spin Me Right Round, Baby...

…Or it's the '90s, slopeside at Whistler, apres-ski, and we're dancing in our ski boots to INXS New Sensation. "Live, baby, live.  Now that the day is over..."

I could go on and on. The memories are many, and most are bittersweet.

The point here is that music has a way of triggering memory and emotion, often taking us by surprise. One minute we're middle-aged parents trying to decide what to cook for dinner. The next we're back in that gym, our more youthful and unfettered, unsuspecting selves.

In writing my novel I was obsessed with this idea, of the songs that shape our past. I was trying to work out what old songs say about the old us; why they mean so much. I went as far as making a Summers with Miss Elizabeth playlist on Spotify that includes the songs featured in the book. Found with a QR code at the front of the novel, the list is eclectic, for sure—different characters of different generations are moved by different generations of songs. On that list, there's everything from Louis Armstrong to King Harvest and The Who.

Music, it’s like your DNA

Tim, one of my most treasured characters, plays a game toward the finish of the book. It's the end of summer. He's with his closest teenage friends, they're lying languid by a waterfall in a boat, when he challenges them to name their song. "Music," Tim says, "it's like your DNA. It's defining. What you listen to is you... If you died and they had to play a tune at your funeral, what would it be?" In the scene, his best mates go on to try and define their song. In doing so, they're trying to define themselves. The songs they name give the reader a little more insight. It's telling, for example, that Tim chooses The Weight.

So, I'll ask again: What does your old song say about the old you? 

There’s no easy answer…

Warning: there's no easy answer. If you were hoping Tim or I could answer for you, either here or in the book, we can't. I'm not even wholly capable of answering it for myself. I don't know exactly why a lyric like "butterflies are free to fly" has the power to send me backward in time. Do you?

Maybe I'm  missing the days when I had no mortgage and few worries about orzo pasta, or anything much. Or maybe the answer's not that deep. Maybe those songs are just reminding me about stuff I forgot to remember, like how much I love butterflies and the sounds of waves, and how much I really love to dance.

What I do know is that if I hear that song unexpectedly—in the grocery store, or the elevator, or on some rando '70s playlist—I'm warm and cozy and 16 again, if only for as long as it takes Elton to sing "and someone saved my life tonight...sugar bear..."

How about you? What's your old song? And what's it telling you about your old self?

Drop an answer in the comments.

Now let’s play a game…

If we haven’t already, let’s follow each other on Instagram or Facebook and let’s play a game. Once in a while I’ll post an old song lyric and ask you to name that tune. No Googling, just memories of all those steamy nights in sailing clubs and high school gyms.

Where you’ll find me…

October 11: Port Carling Public Library, 10:30 am

October 24: Huntsville United Church, 6:30 pm

November 9: Vendor Market, Canadian Raceboat Hall of Fame, Bracebridge

November 16: Holiday Market, Thornbury, Ontario

November 23: Christmas Market, Bracebridge Rotary Centre

I Hope…

I hope you read my book, Summers with Miss Elizabeth, and I hope you love the story as much as I do. Canadians can order it in E-Book or Paperback from Amazon HERE. US customers can order here. If you’re in Muskoka, pick up a copy at one of the shops listed on my website loriknowles.com.

www.loriknowles.com

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT here on Substack (below) or on Instagram or Facebook, I’d love to hear from you.

Lori Knowles is a writer, author, journalist, co-editor of Ski Canada magazine, and editor of MuskokaStyle.com. Her first novel, Summers with Miss Elizabeth, was published May 1, 2024. See loriknowles.com for more information, and stay tuned to LORI’S STORIES.