In Continuum.

One of the most amazing things about songs is that, for some reason, you don't quite forget the circumstances in which you first heard the song. Also, there are certain memories that come along with certain songs that make it so special and worth listening to over and over again. You know that feeling, when you are listening to a song you haven't heard of in a long time, and you start to wonder how it is possible for you to remember every single word in that song, despite all the other songs that have come along since then. I was going through some blogs when I came upon Naz's, who recently posted a old music video from 98 Degrees, a song called Invisible Man. I pretty much grew up in the boy bands era, not really because I chose to be a part of the hype, but because my sister was already around to influence my musical taste. That was before I decided to break away from the trend and seek my own path in music, which ultimately led me to where I am now, after trotting through the realms of Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park. I was there before, and I do not deny that of course. It all start, though, back in the days when boy bands were genuinely cool, and I remember all the little details that went on when I would sing along to that song on MTV as a child. I was such a fanboy back then.

Songs that that do that to me, you know. Songs from the boy bands, and all those one-hit wonders that came in the 90s, they've all made such a deep impression in my life that it has become such a part of me as an identity. It is somewhat embarrassing to revisit those days, with the boy bands dressed in a strange way and their band hairstyles, not to mention the pathetic efforts by me to imitate them one by one. But songs like that remind me of the times when I had a lot less knobs to turn, and when I had a lot less important decisions to make. It's not that I do not like the kind of life that I lead right now, but it's just that there are some things that you cannot relive anymore, you know. It's like that feeling after you've walked out from an awesome movie for the very first time, and you know that you cannot get the same first-time feeling again no matter how hard you try, even if you decide to buy the DVD when it is released to try to relive it - you can't find it back. Boy band songs do that to me somehow, though I am talking about the ones that mattered enough to be remembered. Like the Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, 98 Degrees, and some of the boy bands that came along afterwards.

The best friend in a heartache, they say, may not necessarily be the shoulders of a friend or the advices that one may give. In the event of the breakup, you know how it may seem like to the people around you. All the concerns and all the questions, it almost seem like that see your breakdown as some kind of entertainment, and they are validating their own pathetic relationship by comparing it to your broken one. It's like a boy comparing his lousy toy to some other kid's broken toy - at least one is working properly. Songs are not judgmental, and they are just there when you need them. Pick the right song, and it speaks about everything that you are going through, so much so that it can become rather creepy at times. Songs do that to you sometimes, it creep you out by being so familiar. It isn't your voice over the speakers or your fingers on the guitar, but the similarities are uncanny. It is the same story all around the world, hearts being broken for the very same reasons all the time everywhere. Someone else out there has went through the same thing, and someone else has written a song about it. I love the way I relate to a song, and claim it to be special to me, in my heart. There are songs like that for me, songs that I used to tune in to when I needed that extra comfort that told me that it is OK, because somebody else went through the same thing - they understand.

I have so many of such songs, because I went through a particularly dark period of time when I would remain in my room for days on end, just listening to these songs and then lying on the table. There were times when the side of my face were turn red after lying my head on the table for too long, but I'd never be able to go to sleep. Always, the attention to the words, I'd be paying attention to them all, and then conjuring up images of how the perfect things in my life back then came crumbling down. Wheel by John Mayer is one such song, and a very potent song that speaks to me about every facet of a heartbreak. Because I Told You So by Jonatha Brooke is another one of those songs like that, bringing up very specific memories of mine that are directly related to aspects of my past that is best left in the past. I remember the emotions that I went through while listening to these songs, that one particular night for example when I tore pages out of a notebook and took pictures of it to validate my anger. Then there was that long walk in the middle of the night without really knowing where I was going. There was a period of time during that walk in the neighborhood when I played this song in my ears, and then the wave of emotions that came over me. Little things like that, you know, and all of this from a button away.

I was on my way home just now after a long conversation with some friends, and the song Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy came up in my ears. It used to be a perfect song for that period of time, a song that represented that painful agony right after the breakup. It used to, but it doesn't anymore. It's interesting how certain songs lose their grip on you, contrary to how they choked you up in the past. That song used to be a kind of anthem for me, a song played on repeat because of the relevance it had in my life. Now that I am happily attached to somebody, though, the song hardly mattered anymore. I still love that song, and I still think it was beautifully written. But it doesn't represent any part of my life right now, and the realism is gone now. Other songs have a better luck at being attached to a brand new set of memories that are completely different from how they were back then. 9 Crimes and Rootless Tree, for example, were two songs that gained a lot of play on my iTunes last time. Rootless Tree, in particular, is an angst charged song with the words "Fuck You" probably repeated about thirty times or something. To think that it is coming from someone like Damien Rice, you know that it is only natural for his love songs about heartbreak to be charged with anger and frustration.

Yet, Rootless Tree has been replaced by the image of Neptina punching people, for some reason. She has recently taken a liking to that song, and she tells me that it is her battle song somehow. So I picture her punching people with the song in the background, and gone are the images of the past. 9 Crimes, too, has receive a similar treatment of sorts, with the past replaced by the image of Neptina playing the song on her keyboard with those colorful buttons. It was one of the first few songs she actually learned on her own on the keyboard, and I remember the image of her practicing on the keys to the video tutorial on YouTube that afternoon one day. So we have meanings being replaced by meanings in songs, interpretations changed by circumstances, and some memories becoming completely lost in the process. It is somewhat ruthless at times, but that is the dynamics of songs, or music, that I love and hold so dearly. It is beautiful, how the same song can represent different things to so many people, much like how a poetry could be interpreted differently without a definite and correct answer. Every song speaks to me somehow, and it brings to me memories related to the people that mattered in the past or matters right now.

Somebody Told Me by The Killers reminds me of Neptina because we used to bang our heads to this song. I'm not sure how we figured out that it is the anthem for us to go crazy to, but we have done it so many times that it has become a routine. Like, if one of us decides to play the song, the other would automatically go crazy and start dancing around the room. I remember this time when we Skyped to this song, and the both of us went absolutely crazy because, well, I don't really know why. Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez reminds me of how it feels like to be with her, delicate moments that'd be blown away by a sudden gush of wind. It is the progressiveness in the song, the peace in his voice that takes me to my happy place with her. It isn't a song that she has heard before, or a song that she particularly fancies. But to me, it reminds me of the feelings evoked when I meet her in a MRT station, at the front door, or wherever we decide to meet. It's just such a beautiful song that I cannot help but picture her in her red Snorg Tee, holding that yellow balloon and standing in the platform of a train station. I'd approach the balloon with my phone all over again, and then brush the balloon aside to reveal her smiling face staring straight back at me.

Yeah, songs do that to me at times. To be in a different place at a different time, over and over again, with the same special person.