The 2010s were the roaring 20s for me. A decade of adventuring, growing, ebbing, flowing, and ultimately, loving. In a twisting path that took me to cities I had never dreamed of, never had the breadth of knowledge to even conceive of dreaming of, I crossed paths with many who left lasting impressions. In the backdrops of these foreign lands, what shaped me most were the deep personal connections I made. While some people have turned into short anecdotes, a story of a few hours compressed now into a few sentences, others have become vital to how I perceive myself and how I relate to the vastness of humanity.
As I listen to my decade in music, I’m flooded with memories embedded in the melodies and words of these songs. Bits and pieces jumbled together:
Hearing “Little Bit” by Lykke Li, I can feel the rush again of a budding crush during my last year of college.
All of the early songs by Alt-J immediately take me back to the fresh breeze drifting in floor-to-ceiling windows in a Roman apartment, Stephanie and me sitting on the floor following the conversation of a motley crew of European men.
“Gooey” by Glass Animals puts me back in Akvarium, a music venue in Budapest, grooving on the dance floor with Ilona.
The experience of many transatlantic flights merge into one when I hear “Flying Overseas” by Theophilus London, a long-time personal plane classic. I can feel the fuzzy fabric of the seat, see the clouds floating past, and slip back into daydreams with this song.
Singing along to “Pilgrims” by Johnny Lloyd, I snap back to my small room in Budapest. Dancing and belting out the song, I’m putting on make-up, gussying up for a night out with the gang – inevitably at Telep, our preferred meeting spot.
As soon as I hear Aaradhna’s voice, I feel a lazy Sunday morning coming on, brunch cooking up at Ashley’s old flat in Clapham, just outside London proper.
To hear “Home Again” by Michael Kiwanuka, I feel Michael is singing for me. In our early days discovering love, we bought a record player – in fact, it was the only record player available at the electronics store in Budapest. New equipment in hand, we bought a record to test out the new machine. Michael Kiwanuka came home with us, and for a long time, this record stayed on repeat as one of only three records we owned. It was the sound of our mornings and late nights, a soothing record to make us feel warm and safe at home. In this new decade, we still have the Michael Kiwanuka record, along with countless others added to the collection. Now in Copenhagen, we’re still at home together.
This playlist is a collection of the sounds that took my wandering feet to surprising places and people. A break from my usual playlist tradition, this is one best heard on shuffle. The order should jump around, mixing years and styles in the same way that these memories drift around in my head. Listening back to these songs, do you have any memories screaming to be remembered for a moment?
ET-Kids Playlists 