Tuesday, 8 February 2011

Where there’s a Crib, there’s a way

I’ve always wondered if it is just me who associates certain songs (or a certain genre of music) to memories, or past events, people and places. They can be both good and bad associations. For example, all I can really remember listening to from the age of seven to eleven, were The Spice Girls. I suppose that’s typical of a 90’s child. Then my father introduced to me to Dire Straits and the musical genius that is Mark Knopffler. Listening to Brothers In Arms for the first time was like awakening from a coma; everything I was hearing was so new and fascinating. Now, whenever I think of my dad, that album always comes to mind. Sub consciously of course, I’m not a total weirdo.

I am currently going through bad associations. I cannot listen to The Cribs without wanting to stab someone.

Fortunately for me this is socially unacceptable. But until I find a way to remove only certain songs from my iPod without wiping the entire thing, my soothing solution is to quickly put on some Iron and Wine, or if I’ve had a million cups of coffee, some Tim Minchin.

As much as I love Tim, it really is not the best idea to listen to him on a commute to London at 9am. British people are prudes by nature, and do not really appreciate having someone uncontrollably laughing with hysterics sitting next to them. Especially if they can faintly hear the lyrics to a ‘Peace Song for Palestine’ coming out of your headphones. Not exactly PC is Tim. Trying to suppress a laugh mid flow is even worse. You know when you do that bent over double act, and your face squishes up tight. Not exactly the most attractive thing commuters want to see just after they’ve eaten breakfast.

I am hoping, however, that this is merely a phase I am going through, and will end pretty quickly. The Cribs are an amazing band and I seriously want to have their metaphorical babies. Move over Kate Nash.

Saying that though, I still can’t listen to Ash without wanting to throw up (some real bad memories there), and that’s almost been four years. This hasn’t actually been a tragic loss, and is a blow that I have actually embraced, more than anything, with open arms. To lose The Cribs however, would mean that one of the only British Indie bands that I genuinely appreciate would be missing from my life, and I just cannot allow that.

My long term solution: deleting them from my iPod would be like stabbing my own eyes with a fork, and then pouring salt into the wounds. Instead I intend to force myself to listen to them until I have re - associated them with different memories; ones that don’t potentially involve being arrested for GBH. I am not, by nature, a violent person.

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