And, more importantly, why? R.E.M.'s Nightswimming makes me squishy inside. I grew up on a rural, underpopulated island on Lake Champlain, where everyone I knew either had beach access, or had an agreement with their neighbor’s to be able to use thier beach. Therefore, I had a lot of great memories of nightswimming, and that song just translates the magic of the experiance to music. It reminds me of slumber party sessions of Truth or Dare, where the dares had progressed to “I dare you to go swimming. Now.” and we’d all go for a midnight dip in solidarity. Of spending the night at my best friend’s house, which was disfunctional to the max, and needing to escape the madness for a while, and loose ourselves in the lake. What about the rest of you?
The curse of growing up in the Seventies . . .
“Love Is All Around” reminds me of dancing with John R______ at Gerard’s in Baltimore.
“Tuxedo Junction,” which Keith taught me to dance to on his moonlit balcony.
“Rinky Dink,” a cha-cha my divine Aunt Mary taught me to cha-cha to, c1962.
“Cohen Owes Me Ninety-Seven Dollars.” Ukelele Ike . . . Let’s always think of that as “our song.”
K-C and Jo-Jo’s All My Life. Even with its mushiness and religious overtones, the song still makes me think of how I felt when I first met Houseman.
And, to wash off that icky wholesome feeling, Jumper by Third Eye Blind. You don’t have to know someone literally standing on a ledge. I’ve got a few friends who I’d wish would step back and cut ties, if you know what I mean.
I’m not going to go into the *why,*since I prefer not to be thought of as crazy, but the song that really makes me squishy inside is Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On.
(Attention wannabe music critics who hate Celine Dion in general and that song in particular–go jump in the nearest body of water. Thanks for your cooperation.)
“…Levy Brothers don’t get any credit…
They owe me for one hundred yards of lace…
If you promise me, my son,
You’ll collect from everyone,
I can diiiiiiie with a smiiiile upon my faaaace!”
{sniffle}
Okay back to business. I get all squishy when I hear the old leftie ballads and protest songs. The anti-war ones, of course, but especially the labor ones.
It’s a political…no, a humanitarian thing. I just wanna rise up and crush the Bosses. Or at least knock them over the head with my git-tar, like El Kabong.
“I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night”
“The UAW-CIO Makes the Nation Roll and Go”
“The Work of the Weavers” (boy, do the Clancy Brothers squeeze every note outta THIS one)
“Winnsboro Cotton Mill Blues”
“The Farmer is the Man”
“There is Power in a Union”
That sort of thing. You could say that they make me all Wobbly inside.
“You could say that they make me all Wobbly inside.”
—Ouch! Orange you ashamed of yourself?
Any song with a fading tremolo steel guitar (retro alt.country is full of it – Dwight Yoakam, Gary Allan) makes me want to cry. There’s just something about the high lonesome sound of a guitar set like that which really makes my insides go all squishy.
The song “Greenfields” by Gary Allan (not released as a single, but it’s on his Smoke Rings In The Dark album) makes me want to cry. It reminds me of a Canadian guy I had a huge crush on, who was killed last year.
“The Dance” by Garth Brooks is my all-time favorite song, and when I remember to pay attention to the lyrics instead of just singing along and enjoying the music I get chills down my spine, because of the message I guess. Goes back to my Canadian, and some other people I’ve lost for various reasons over the years – losing them hurt, of course, but I’d rather have the memory of them and the pain that goes with it, than to never have known them at all.
“Smile” by Lonestar. Again with that Canadian; I was mildy depressed all of last year, and after his death I became almost suicidal and withdrew from life. My friend called me and sang “I’m gonna smile, so you can find the courage” from that song, on my voice mail. It meant a lot to me.
And in a HAPPY way now, to escape the shadow of Canadian death: The Righteous Brothers’ “Unchained Melody.” The tune makes me want to cry, but the memories it induces are good: dancing with my friend Not-jim. For some reason we always end up dancing to that song. Same with “Amazed” by Lonestar.
Main and Broadway by Cub. It’s kind of a cuddlecore punk ode to a failed romance. It doesn’t really remind me of anything specific, but there’s an eloquent bitterness in the lyrics and the music is upbeat enough to keep it all from sinking into despair.
“The Dance” by Garth Brooks. Reason: Pretty much the situation described in the song. ::sniffle::
Celine Dion’s My Heart Will Go On makes me all squishy inside too. Kind of like when I’ve eaten bad clams.
:: jumping in Pacific Ocean at MysterEcks’ request ::
I hate this ! “Brown-eyed Girl” by Mr. Van Morrison! It makes me think of past times…my youth…a joke someone played on me and kept the punchline to for years (which is why I loved him).
Tender by Blur.
As I lay me down by Sophie b Hawkins.
Jack Batty said:
See? Jack knows how to follow directions.
Follow them? Yes.
Ask for them? Never!
I’m the same way, I can’t help it, that’s how my mother raised me. Of course here in Ireland there is a huge repertoire of protest ballads; the one that really - and I mean really - gets to me is called Grace. It’s a love song from one of the Easter Rising heroes to his new bride on the eve of his execution and under the right conditions it really does make me cry.
Then again, I’ve also been known to cry at Puff The Magic Dragon…
Wind of Change by the Scorpions.
Ecstacy (when you lay down next to me) by Barry
White - There was this girl Monique I met in San Antonio, we flirted with each other a lot and then…
Another REM song: Perfect Circle. I transferred to a different college (UMass Amherst) my sophomore year and my best friend came to visit after not having seen him in a long time, and we had one of those perfect evenings where you’re like “Wow, some things don’t change.” We were playing CD’s and when Perfect Circle came on, he got all pensive and I asked why, and he said “I love this song–it always reminds me of you.”
Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Waters: I remember when I was little, my mom’s friend’s fiance was killed in a car crash the day before their wedding, and we were all at her house… I’ll never forget that; she was singing along.
Here’s a rather odd one, it doesn’t make me “squishy” but it always brings a smile to my face: Possum Kindgom by the Toadies. Me and a good friend from college have this thing for that song, not sure why or how it started, but it still holds to this day–hadn’t seen him in 2 years and we got together a couple of weeks ago, and as I was driving home it came on, and I called him to play it over my cell phone.
Ike and Ruadh: Ditto on the Leftie/anti-war protest songs… Joe Hill and anything with bagpipes… I can’t hear Amazing Grace even without welling up! Molly Malone and Danny Boy get me too.
SPLASH
I have a fine example right here. A song that makes me feel melancholic at some times, yet triumphant and joyful at other moments.
Don Henley - Boys of Summer
Oh, man. What a great song. Cruising in the summertime. Windows down. Slow, on a boulevard, or at high speed down a highway. It’s a driving song that will affect me the same now and in 20 years as it did in 1986.
It makes me think of long gone girlfriends, and the lessons I learned from or because of them. I think about times of youth, times of glory.
This is definately one of my top 20 Best Rock Songs of All Time.
I can name 100 songs that are musically better, and I can name 500 songs that are lyrically better. But somehow, the combination is just right in this song to make me all squishy, to use Swiddles’ words.
Ohmighod, don’t get me started on the IRISH protest songs.
Oooooooh, these are the spine-tingliest of all, for a third-generation Mick living in New York City.
“And the black and tans, like lightning ran, from the RIFLES OF THE IRA…”
“And their old rusty rapiers we flung in the tide…‘Now pick them out, divils!’ cried Arthur McBride…”