There are a few things that help me get out of bed in the morning: the way that first sip of coffee tastes as it hits my lips (and how I subsequently mumble an expletive as I spill it, just as I do every day); the possibility that after I step out of the shower, my hair will magically alter into something manageable; the thought that I will run into a supermodel who will find me “normal” and “not like other guys” and want to marry me; and finally, the chance that I will be able to reflect on something.
You see, I love reflecting. Not in that tantric yoga, summoning-of-the-Aztec-God-Centeotl-who-will-tell-me-if-I’m-having-a-child-anytime-soon kind of way, but in the sense that I can compare things against each other. I reflect on small decisions like restaurant choices or the types of communication I have (or don’t have) with baristas at coffee shops I visit most often. I reflect on how certain types of weather can affect my mood. I reflect on whether this year was better than last, and if last year was worse than the year before.
When conjuring up my thoughts of any month or year, I tend to remember meaningful events based on music. I remember the song I had on repeat when I was riding the 38 for job interviews in February. I remember what I listened to on my iPod as I drove to work on November 5th. I remember the songs I played when I was loving life, and my go-to sad songs when I was having rough days. I remember buying certain albums and not remembering what life was like before them.
I remember my life as a series of playlists: april 2008, consistently inconsistent, chill music, jamz and naughty november.
Because of all this, I want to present my Top 10 Songs of 2008. Before I explain what has defined my year, let me explain my methodology. These songs did not have to be created in 2008, nor are they the best songs I listened to this year. This is a list of songs that, for whatever reasoned, defined my year and when I hear them, I immediately think of something that happened or a way I felt. These are 10 songs that years from now will always be associated with 2008.
Below is my list. Enjoy.
HIP-HOP SAVED MY LIFE — Lupe Fiasco (feat. Nikki Jean)
This album (and specifically this song) started my new-found love for hip-hop… and specifically the mini-genre of suburban hip-hop which Kanye West has championed and Lupe Fiasco has created his own unique version of it. I listened to this album continuously at the beginning of this year. It makes me think of driving to SJSU, parking my car in the garage north of campus and walking to my office. I love the story within the story in this song and although Superstar is the stand-out song from Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool, this song will always be my favorite.
SAN JOSE — Joe Purdy
I moved from San Jose to San Francisco back in February and this is the song I listened to as I geared up for the big change. Kind of weird since I probably should have played “Sittin on the Dock of the Bay” or something else SF-related, but I kept jamming to Joe Purdy. As trite as it is, I enjoy putting this on anytime I drive back down there. It’s great for belting in that rough-voiced-manly kind of way.
M79 — Vampire Weekend
I honestly can’t believe that Vampire Weekend has only been a part of my life for less than a year. This is one of those albums for which I don’t remember what my musical life was like before I heard it. My friend Jason introduced me to them, assuming that I already had fallen head-over-heels. But when I responded “who’s that?” he made sure I checked them out. And this is me officially thanking you. This is one of those rare “perfect albums,” an experience where every song is amazing and I never find myself skipping tracks. I’m scared for whatever they may produce next because I truly find this album to be remarkable. Why this song? It makes me think of the spring and walking through Golden Gate Park and the Haight as I explored my new neighborhood back in April and May. It reminds me of discovering, growth and starting anew.
LA FOULE — Edith Piaf
One weekend I rented the movie La Vie en Rose, the biopic of Edith Piaf. I thought the movie was going to be uplifting and full of fun French music and the story of a media darling from the first half of last century. I didn’t know much about Piaf except she was a singer. Well, this movie was dark and her life was often extremely depressing and frustrating to watch. But the performance by Marion Cotillard was by far one of the best acting jobs I’ve ever seen. And these songs permeated my existence for months. I bought the soundtrack and listened to it relentlessly. I played my strange french music as I cooked dinner for friends and they often asked me to put something on more contemporary. Fair enough. But you really need to listen to this album. And this song, about seeing a love in a crowd and them being swept away before you can reach them, is the epitome of the hope that lied somewhere deep within Piaf, but the sad reality that was her love and life.
LOVE IN THIS CLUB/FOREVER/NO AIR — Usher, Chris Brown & Jordin Sparks
No judging. These three songs are all on my playlist from May and remind me of that turbulent month. This May was probably one of the worst months of my life. Although it’s usually the highlight due to amazing things such as my birthday and graduation, this May was filled with food poisoning, stomach viruses and my car getting broken into… all within a span of three weeks. These songs provided me an escape from everything going on, especially when all I wanted to do was listen to Elliot Smith and wallow in my sadness.
GIVING UP — Ingrid Michaelson
This is the perfect female, folksy, featured-on-Grey’s-Anatomy type of song that somehow struck a chord with my cold, bleak heart. She talks about all these fears she has in a (potential) relationship. “What if I fall further than you?/what if you dream of somebody new?/what if I never let you in?” are some of the questions she asks. THIS IS WHAT I THINK ABOUT TOO, INGRID. Marry me, k?
DON’T STOP THE MUSIC — Rihanna
I have two memories related to this song. The first is that my friend Annalyn went to a gay club with a bunch of dudes one night, including a friend of hers from grad school. Her friend met another guy and they were dancing and grinding up on each other. When her friend went to the bar, this new guy (David) walks up to Annalyn and says in his heavy hispanic accent “ohhh, you’re friend is so cuuute. What do you think we’re going to do tonight?” Annalyn asks “what do you want to do tonight?” David then says “Evvvverything.” Minutes later, this Rihanna song comes on and as the happy new couple is dancing, David starts singing “please don’t stop the music, na na na na na.” He couldn’t remember any of the words. But rumor has it he remembered how to take our friend home.
Memory number two involves my brother and Jessie coming out to visit me in April. This song was playing on the radio all the time, and one time we found ourselves waiting for the 33 in the Mission and we couldn’t stop singing it. I may or may not have given my brother a lapdance at the bustop to this song.
FEELING GOOD — Michael Buble
I have the original version of this song and electronic version called How I Feel by Wax Tailor. Both are good, but neither has captured my love for these words like the Michael Buble edition. This is the only song I own by this dude and I can’t help but think it would be great music to which one can perform a stripping routine. But the real reason this song is on the list is because I discovered it on October 29, almost a week before the election. It’s a song about optimism and a new tide rolling in. I played it as I drove to an election that party that night, and once again while I was coming home. At one point, he says “well freedom is in mind and I know how I feel/ it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me/ and I’m feeling good.” And that’s how I felt. And that’s how America felt. It was our new dawn, our new day and our new life when Obama won.
YOU KNOW I’M NO GOOD — Amy Winehouse
I first listened to Amy Winehouse’s CD sometime in late fall of 2007. I thought Rehab was an instant classic and that Tears Dry on Their Own was perfectly dark. I would have defined the album as “cool, retro and jazzy.” I put it away for a few months and during that time my life took a roller-coaster of events. In late April, I put Back to Black on my rotation again and this time I got it. I understood everything Amy Winehouse was saying. Her pain was my pain. Her longing and despair were mine as well. This was one of those albums that I wasn’t ready for during my initial listening. I understood it on a superficial surface and it wasn’t until a crazy series of events concluded that made me finally relate. And although I have many favorite tracks and could listen to each song on repeat for hours, You Know I’m No Good just struck a chord with me. And when she sang it at the Grammy’s, it was as if she was saying “I told you so.” You were right all along.
BUTTERFLY — Jason Mraz
I would let Jason Mraz make sweet, sweet love to me solely because of this song. It’s one of the sexiest songs I’ve ever heard. And at first, I didn’t think I was going to like it. What’s up with these weird 70s funk sound in the background? What exactly is he referring to when he’s talking about a butterf…. oh. Oh. Wow.
