The Soundtrack Of My Year
By: Kae Smith
Tags: Time, Spotify, Life, Illumination, Music

The Soundtrack Of My Year

Even the abhorrent Apple music users are well versed in the yearly pilgrimage of the yearly Spotify wrap-ups; the ones that migrate from one’s individual app to the stories of each and every one of your high school friends social medias so that the world can know how cool and cultured they are based on their top 5 artists.

It’s my favourite time of year.

I like seeing other peoples posted playlists — it’s a little peak into the lives of others. The eyes aren’t the only windows to the soul these days.

You listen to how many minutes of music? You discovered that many new genres? It’s impressive, my guy. I love it.

I’m want to see exactly what myself and others listened to throughout a year — you can track the moods you were in, what spoke to you, how you felt.

And damn it’s intuitive. I can look through that list of 100 songs and pick out the moments I listened to each one. By the Month! I can tell what moods I was in. Remember what I was doing when that song was on repeat until I finally got sick of it.

January

“Movement” Hozier

The year started with fateful optimism. This song was first streamed on January 1st — and I hit 50 listens before the month was up. You can tell who stuck by my side this year.

Hozier wrote this song in self-inflicted solitude, so it’s only natural that it was my introduction to the year. If I am alone, I will blast this and dance throughout my kitchen. If I am not alone, you can put good money on the fact that this will be creeping through my headphones.

When you move

Honey, I’m put in awe of somethin’ so flawed and free

February

“Sunbleached Girl” Shag Rock

My dad and I explore La Crucecita. We look for cheap sunglasses and cheap beer, and find them both before 11am, settling in at a coffee shop and bar that overlooks a park, and a church. We watch the locals ride by on motorcycles.

I take off down the dusty road for a walk, a little tipsy off my beer and tortilla chip breakfast, admiring how the sidewalks in Mexico are a solid 2 feet higher than the road.

Pour a little sugar she knows

I got a sweet tooth for her ways

I’m addicted to her gaze

March

“Toss A Coin To Your Witcher” Sonya Belousova

God, I wish I was joking. This was a month of Tiger King and sourdough bread, the beginning of the end of times, the start of 7000 hours of binge watching material. We watched the Witcher over the course of two days, and fell briefly in love with this song (or at least, I did).

I never played it after the month of March, but clearly it left enough of an impression on the algorithm.

This month was back when all the weirdness of the world still had an air of fun to it, a bit of mystery. The whole it-will-all-be-over-soon mentality coincided with online university courses and the freedom of doing nothing. It seemed a bit like a joke, then. It was only funny for a little while.

At the edge of the world

Fight the mighty horn

That bashes and breaks you

And brings you to mourn

April

“Like a Stone” Audioslave

A month of mountain biking and head banging on the drive to the mountains. Driving past grocery store line ups a mile long, we make our way to the mountains, far, far away from the rest of the world.

It’s here I fall in love with the oldies again; Jeff Buckley and Pearl Jam fill my ears as I grind up the mountains.

I like to watch you sing along, making the perfect harmonies to all those 90s grunge tunes. In another life, I could picture you up on those stages making music. I like to think about that sometimes.

In your house I long to be

Room by room patiently

I’ll wait for you there

Like a stone

May

“Sundown” Gordon Lightfoot

The world winds down, the second-to-last university semester of my life closes and we drive far, far away from the ocean and back to our valley cocoons and the protection of our parents. Shelter us, we say. Protect us from this storm.

Back in my childhood bedroom I listen to this on repeat, the soothing melody letting me forget about the faded yellow paint I chose when I was 14 and the fact that I’m back surrounded by it.

I start up school again and get a job part time, but it’s the one I had in high school and I feel like I’m living my life in reverse.

I can see her looking fast in her faded jeans

She’s a hard loving woman, got me feeling mean

June

“Mountains” Moontricks

I spend every day that I can on a mountain bike and I manage not to think about my body. It’s a blessing and a miracle.

I find this song on a playlist made by guys who run a Youtube channel about bikes. I get very into bikes. I purchase stickers from these Youtube men, and also socks. For biking.

I can listen to this now and remember falling in love with a new sport. Folky, electronic music with beautiful harmonies and the coolest beat. Just close your eyes and let it wash over ya.

Let me be free,

Let me be free,

Let me be free

July

“No Ceiling” Eddie Vedder

For the past 3 years either Eddie Vedder or Pearl Jam has taken up at least a month of my year in terms of listening time.I always get sucked into an obsessive phase — although usually it’s in October. See, that’s the thing about global pandemics. They really mess with your body’s natural rhythm.

To be honest in July it was basically just the entire Into The Wild soundtrack, but this is my favourite song. (Actually, I like The Wolf. It’s just Eddie Vedder howling. Sometimes I think about setting it as my ringtone.)

Really, whenever Eddie pops up I just know I’m going through another existential crisis about life and society. I think in this case it was a combination of a restless summer and the subsequent completion of my final semester of university. A fairly fitting way to spend my last month as a sociology student if you ask me.

As I walk the hemisphere

I’ve got my wish to up and disappear

August

“Lake Shore Drive” Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah

It’s driving with five people in the cab of a two-seater beat up pick-up, mountain bikes rattling in the truck bed, strapped to the makeshift bike rack we slid in the back.

The late-summer sun beats down on the pavement, the sky is a flaming orange, and there’s just enough daylight for late-night shreds after work.

I like those long summer evenings, when it seems like the sunset lasts for hours. We can look at the water and the mountains; the light bouncing off the lake and off our sun-kissed skin. We smell the summer scents of the valley: dust, smoke, and dry pine trees.We’re soaked in sweat, we’re covered in dirt, we go out on the town for beer after 10km of sweet, sweet mountain descents.

I always come back here thinking I never will again, and I always leave wanting more while trying to escape.

And it’s Friday night and you’re looking clean

Too early to start the rounds

A ten minute ride from the Gold Coast back make sure you’re pleasure bound

And it’s four o’clock in the morning and all of the people have gone away

Just you and your mind and Lake Shore Drive, tomorrow is another day

And the sunshine’s fine in the morning time, tomorrow is another day

September

“Iffy” Caamp

I’ve never found moving to be scary. In fact, I kind of like it. I think you can blame my parents for that; their constantly migratory habits. We never actually moved outside of our hometown but we did move houses seven times within the city limits, and at one point almost moved across the country. We once moved into one house and moved out nine months later. It’s like packing is my natural state.

This move felt no different, just another experience. Sometimes I forget that some people aren’t as used to change as I am. Aren’t as content being the odd ones out, the new guys.

I kind of like the anonymity, the freshness. I want to walk for hours with music playing and rain falling, exploring all the new places. I want to see the trees, the rolling grey fog filling in the spaces between them. It’s salty here, and I love it.

Locked up all your windows and bolted all your doors

And I’ve had some trouble listening my ears are glued to the floor

And oh no you wont see me again, least a year or more

Said my bags are all packed and my shoes are by the back door

October

“Nights in White Satin” The Moody Blues

I’m not saying you need to belt this one out while washing dishes, but I’m also not, not saying it. (You should)

Do you ever doubt every choice you’ve ever made? Sing, then sing louder. It doesn’t matter that you’re not good, only your neighbours can hear you and you don’t really know them — should I have gotten to know them? Ah, it’s too late now.

Moody blues is right.

’Cause I love you

Yes I love you

Oh how I love you

Also,

“Season of the Witch” Donovan

#spookyszn

Oh no, must be the season

Oh no, must be the season

Oh no, must be the season of the witch

November

“Drowning” Radio Company

A lot of things ended in November. Nothing big or important, but a lot of little things. Sometimes little endings hurt more than the big ones; life still goes on in a way as if nothing really happened. You only notice the little endings sometimes, and then it hurts a little more than you’d expect.

I turned 22 quietly. I love being born in November but I don’t really like birthdays. Maybe I just feel attached to the scorpion, all spiky and untrustworthy. Untrusting.

Hold the day

Oh we pray

To make it through the night

December

Here’s where Spotify’s year end wrap up fails: you get sent your data at the beginning of December. That’s a whole month of music in the year that you’re not even counting.

Part of me wants it to believe they do it that way so that Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You doesn’t end up being everyones #19 song of the year every. Damn. Year.

Despite it being early in the month, but current top song would be:

“Riveria Paradise” Stevie Ray Vaughan

The last weekend of November we took two ferries to get from the coast to the Island, and spent the weekend hitting the mountains for hours.

I rode shotgun with a friend of a friend on the morning drives to the trails, and we talked about life, and travel and the beautiful west coast. I followed him on Spotify after three minutes in the car. Like music soulmates, I grooved to every tune he threw on.

I asked him to play Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd and he asked which live version was my favourite. Man had more than one live version cued up and ready to go.

He said I would probably dig this song. I do.