Friday 8 April 2011

A Piece of the Past

I grew up listening to The Beatles. My mom was a superfan, and when I listen to albums like Rubber Soul and Revolver, I am taken back to our living room in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan in the late 70s. I can see the red carpet and red crushed velvet curtains, our brown velour furniture, the shale rock on the wall flanked by sections with mirrors that had gold designs over them. In front of the rock and mirror wall was our huge brown wood console stereo that contained a built-in 8-track player and turntable, where my mom would play her Beatles vinyl when my sisters and I were kids.

When Apple announced that The Beatles' tunes would be available on iTunes, I think a lot of people, myself included, were like, "Yeah, and...?" I mean really, if you couldn't get something on iTunes, you'd get it from somewhere else, even if that means buying a *gasp* CD and downloading it.

I actually have never owned digital copies of Beatles songs, I thought if I came across an album in the store I'd buy a CD and download it, but it just never was a priority. Plus, there's a part of me that has this weird resistance to doing what everyone else is doing, and if everyone else is downloading Beatles' songs because they're newly available on iTunes, I'm not going to, for some stubborn reason.

Anyway, last night I happened to overhear Girl, one of my favourite songs by the Beatles. I suddenly had a hankering to get a little nostalgic, and I downloaded Girl, Across the Universe, Something, Come Together, and A Day in the Life. My favourites. Listening to them, I was taken back to my childhood, with cousins and grandparents living down the street, Sundays at Nana and Grandad's house, playing in my cousins' backyard, my green swing set by the side of my house (I always wished it had a slide), my Mr. Turtle pool (that my next-door-neighbour, Karen, stepped in with her sandals on and cracked it, and I never forgave her,) and so much more.

Funny how music can take you straight back.

No comments:

Post a Comment