Winter songs

I've written often about how songs bring me back to a certain memory or, a general time and feeling around when the song was popular. For example, I've been hearing "(Your Love Is Lifting Me) Higher and Higher" by Rita Coolidge on the oldies station lately, and it's reminding me of the going to Milwaukee with my dad to see a Brewers game in 1977. I can't remember exactly where I heard it, but likely, somewhere in our journey to County Stadium and back, it came on the AM radio (probably more than once) and forever embedded in my brain as a memory of that day.

My brain doesn't just connect songs to a specific day or occasion. "Welcome to the Jungle" reminds me of my first semester of college; "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" ruled radio in the spring of 1985; and "Beautiful Day" by U2 will always be connected to fall 2000 after we moved to Utah. Granted, everyone feels these connections, to other things besides songs, too. Yet, I reach back to music to try to recapture those feelings. I create playlists, collect old episodes of "American Top 40," and dig up old music videos to take myself back.

Enough for the exposition and onto the revelation: When I hear songs that I connect to winter, the mental image that pops into my head is hearing those songs at night. Consider:

• "Running with the Night" by Lionel Richie -- a winter song with "night" in the title.
• "Take the Long Way Home" by Supertramp -- I can remember getting picked up from basketball or some other evening event and hearing this; it's perfectly moody for a winter night.
• "Wrapped Around Your Finger" by The Police and "Here Comes the Rain Again" by Eurythmics -- even moodier for a winter night.
• "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure, "Loverboy" by Billy Ocean, "Livin' on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi, and "Go Home" by Stevie Wonder -- songs, among others, that take me back to studying in the evening in my room.
• "Blinded by the Light" by Manfred Mann, or "Turn to Stone" by ELO, or "Pump Up the Volume" by M/A/R/R/S -- as a passenger in a cold car, driving through the city.
  

I guess the winter playlists being night playlists makes sense: I was mostly listening to the radio after dark, which, in Chicago, comes really early. Being in school all day, I wasn't in a car much in the daylight between November and March, so any radio listening there would be in the evening. I could never do homework or study right after school but liked having music playing when I did, so that meant absorbing songs while night dragged on outside my window.

There are exceptions to my winter/night playlist theory. On our vacation to Florida in 1982, most of the song memories are from driving through the night, but "Turn Your Love Around" by George Benson played a few times during the bright sunshine as we traveled across Indiana. And for some reason, "Life in a Northern Town" makes me think of a cold, icy morning and being driven to my high school.

With February and, by extension, winter winding down, I've come to a conclusion about the winter playlists: They're nice to listen to once each year, but then I'm done with them. Frankly, cold, dark winter nights suck. The worst funks I've ever been in my life, going back to grade school, have been in winter and mostly amplified at night. There are plenty of awesome songs on my winter playlists, but few remind me of sun and cheeriness and optimism. And that's the whole point of my playlists -- to take me back. Why go back to be continually reminded that we're stuck in winter?

I think I'm just ready for spring. I'm like that every year, but the pandemic really has me in an anti-winter mood. The winter hasn't even that cold or dragged, but it's still dark, and it's still leaving me lethargic, un-creative, and gloomy. I walked the dog tonight and looked at all the playlists on my Amazon Music account ... and decided I didn't need a winter collection. I'll save them for next year.

The spring playlists await. Are you ready for "Rich Girl" and "Automatic?"