This songs matters to me, because: (your explanation here)

Great Thread, I have enjoyed all of it and thanks to those who have bumped it up.

I have a couple that while not particularly moving mean a lot to me.

My then girlfriend and I traveled to west coast for a late summer wedding of a distant relative. It was a big road trip from Manitoba to the Sunshine coast of B.C. which is an absolutely beautiful spot. My girlfriend was leaving to do her post-grad at another school in a few weeks and I would not be joining her. Because of her upcoming move and the uncertainty around it we had been somewhat out of sorts with each other.

We left after the wedding and were driving on the coastal mountain roads and the day was absolutely perfect, sunny, great temp, windows open and the music cranked.

I had the cassette (hello early 90’s) of REM - Out Of Time playing and the track “Belong” played. We both started singing along but making up our own words and cracking on people we knew. This kept up for about 15 minutes and it was a perfect moment. Regardless of what was going on, in the right now, we were real happy. In Swimming to Cambodia Spalding Gray speaks of having those perfect moments, to this day this is still one of them.

Fast forwarding about 18 months I decided to travel instead of going with her for her second year of grad school. As things go we ended up with a break up over the phone with me in Australia and her Edmonton. I was bummed but pretty resigned to what had happened as had I wanted to save the relationship I could have gone back to Canada. That night I was at a club on the Australian Gold Coast that catered to the surf crowd in the 18-21 set. As I was neither a surfer or in that age bracket I was out of my element but I knew the owner so I stood with him pounding drinks.

My memory is somewhat hazy but I went from having a conversation to a drunken make-out session with a hot little surfer girl while Rage Against The Machine’s “Killing in the Name Of”, was pounding. When the song ended so did our make-out session. In the moment right after, basking in the glow of the ridiculousness of making out with a surfer chick in a packed bar I had that sense of well being that no matter what happened my sense of humour and outlook would let me be all right.

Jumping ahead a few years and the ex GF is the maid of honor at the wedding of mutual friends where I am the best man.

Her – newly engaged and the cool chick from out of town.

Me – the underemployed looser who does not have a date for the wedding.

The wedding turns out to be a massive party, great time had by all. The after party continues for about 20 of us in a hotel next door where everyone is having a great time.

I end up singing along with Chumbawumba’s “Tub thumping” which gets played over and over and becomes the song of the night with me improvising lyrics and being the center of attention at the party. One of the other groomsmen tries to draft off my heat/JDV but can’t win over the crowd of my friends. Again, another one of the moments when you know that things are going to be all right.

3 songs that to this day instantly take me to other places and make me smile.

 

There are songs that get me choked up and teary-eyed, but Sting's "Fragile" and The Church's "Under the Milky Way" are both brilliant. They're well-written and the guitar melodies are beautiful.

When I think of songs that matter to me I think of two things: I want to dance my ass of or get emotional.

If I'm gonna dance, I would prefer "Getting Jiggy with It" by Will Smith or "Everyday is Halloween" by Ministry.

 

I guess U2's "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own" is another one for me. Bono wrote the song about his late father, who despite their sometimes rocky relationship, really influenced him. The song always makes me a bit misty anyways, but about a year ago it started to have even more meaning for me when my late grandfather died. My grandfather was the kind of man who you wish you could just be half the man he was and you'd be happy. The funeral home where the wake was held said they had never seen so many people at one of their wakes before. He insipred me, and his memory still does, in so many ways, and I guess this song was sort of a soundtrack for that realization at the time. I played the song afterwards and it reminded me how much he influenced me, and I remember him in almost all of life's pursuits.

"And it's you when I look in the mirror, and it's you that makes it hard to let go..."

 

That's really cool, Chet. Although, I've never thought of "Killing In The Name" as a make-out tune. ...

But, hey, maybe that's just me.

 

I just got five stars on that on Guitar Hero last night.

 

Listening to this song right now reminds me of a story about Old Time Rock 'n' Roll by Bob Seger and The Twelve Pains Of Christmas:

It was the winter of 1990. I and other members of my high school's senior class were planning our senior class Christmas skit. We'd decided to do The Twelve Pains Of Christmas for our skit. My role was to be "Five Months Of Bills."

The guy who'd eventually be the school's valedictorian was sitting at the piano for our rehearsals, and he patiently went through the rehearsing. I'd written "BILL" on a few pieces of papers and I planned to yell out "I'm filing for Chapter 11" at one point during the song. Anyway, during a brief break in the action, the guy at the piano looks at me, smiles for a second, turns to the piano and suddenly starts playing the opening piano to Old Time Rock 'n' Roll. I don't know if I'd completely switched over to classic rock as my favorite musical genre at that point, but it was a funny moment, even in its brevity.

When it was finally time for our class to perform its skit, we went through it, and of course, I included my ad-libs. By the last time through the song, the ENTIRE AUDIENCE was singing the "five months of bills," which I found amusing. It got even more amusing just a couple seconds later: The guy who was the "Hangovers" guy also ad-libbed: He put his arm around me and said, "forever_town."

Every time I hear The Twelve Pains Of Christmas it reminds me of the good times at that high school. In particular, that skit.

 

*Nudge*

 

I wonder if anyone who's read this thread has stories about what they've done after reading these stories.

Anyone gain a new appreciation for a song they hadn't paid much attention to because Double Down waxed so eloquently about it? Anyone go looking on iTunes for My Bloody Valentine? Anyone decide now is the time to listen to Nessun Dorma for the first time?

I know Double Down's post made me dig out my copy of the Ally McBeal soundtrack so I could listen to and rip "Maryland" onto my computer. GBNF's story about Nessun Dorma made me seek out Aretha Franklin's version. I've also got plans to see if I can get a copy of My Bloody Valentine.

Oh, the Saturday after I posted my story on it, I sang Go Your Own Way with the kind of force I haven't mustered in a long time.

 

I would love to see some more stories.

 

I'm bumping this so I can find it when I have to write about last Sunday. An amazing experience musically and spiritually that was the birth of "This song matters to me".

 

I was borderline not going to post this, but I figure I am comfortable about who I am, so it doesn't matter.
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About two months ago, I went into the local city with a friend to a nightclub. I knew it was going to be a bad place. You could tell it was going to be seedy from the outside with the 45-year-old men looking to take home a 18-year-old piece of eye candy. Come hell or high-water, they were going to try.

But we got into the club and it was $1 shots of tequila and I wasn't going to turn that down. So I imbibed a little bit and we went down to the dance floor. We each had success, but it wasn't going anywhere. My friend began dancing with a woman who's boyfriend was right behind them. I tried to defuse the situation because I didn't feel like dying.

The night progressed and Flo-Rida's song "Low" began. Now, I like to dance, so I pulled my friend down and we looked for two women with whom to dance. Well, I enter a group and I begin dancing with a woman, who was quite beautiful and it wasn't the eight shots of tequila talking.

We began dancing closer and I feel her hand leave the back of my neck and proceed down my side. I guess she wanted to take a trip to the hardware store, so I decided "OK, we'll see where this goes."

I move my hand in the general direction and it gets slapped away. I thought things were going well, but maybe the Aunt decided to visit or something, so I thought nothing of it. The song ended and my friend wanted to get another drink, so I walked up to the bar with him.

I didn't get one, but I was hanging out around the bar. I see another woman standing alone and I go up to her and starting talking with her. Midway through the conversation, she said "You seem like a really nice guy, so I am going to tell you the truth about something." I said "OK, what's up?" She said "You know that girl you were just dancing with? She's one of my good friends. And well, I don't know how to say this, but she's a he." I said "what?" She said "Yup, but I bet he thinks you're cute though. He usually doesn't dance with white boys."

I grabbed my friend and ran out of the club. I can never think of the song the same way again and turn the station when it plays. I can laugh the situation off now, but yeah, not at that moment.

 

OK. Christmas break, senior year of high school. We're in south-central Pennsylvania and 18; drinking age in Maryland is 18.

Our high school basketball team is playing in a little town called Boiling Springs that Friday night. So Friday afternoon, four of us go down to Hagerstown in my car and buy two cases of Coors -- the good OLD Coors, with the pop-top cans. We drink one case when we get back to town. Then later on, we head down to Boiling Springs.

When we get there, we put a coat over the case of Coors in the back and go into the game.

After the game, we go out to the car -- and one of my tires had been slashed. Take out the jack and have the job just about done when a rent-a-cop comes over and says, "Need any help, son?"

I tell him I don't, but of course, he flashes his light into the car to take a look around and asks, "What's under the coat, son?"

No point lying. Case of beer, I tell him.

"You can't be 21, can you, son?"

No, sir. But ... my parents will take my car away if I get busted here. We were just saving the beer for somebody else. We got framed. Something.

The guy yells over to his rent-a-cop buddy ... "Hey, Homer, we've got some kids here with a case of beer in the back. Should I call it in?"

Homer yells back, "Nah, Bruce. Let's have some beer."

Bruce the rent-a-cop takes our case of beer, says "You boys behave, now," and puts the beer in the back of his pick-up truck. Drives away.

The four of us mutter a prayer of thanks. I turn the car on to head back home. And of course, the song that was playing at that moment?

"I Fought The Law (And The Law Won)."