One of my favorite Spotify playlists is titled “heartbreak girl block,” where its description perfectly encompasses the songs in it: “my episodic memory kicks in when these [songs] start playing.” Your episodic memory is your memory of past and personal experiences that one experienced throughout their entire life, in specifics. My playlist title “heartbreak girl block” is one example of this. It reminds me of September 2021, when I’d gone to my first concert post-COVID, and saw one of my favorite bands who’d written a song called “Heartbreak Girl.” The bassist had presented a large hatred for the song and had blocked someone on Twitter (now X) for expressing their love for the song, hence the playlist title.Â
Music and sound, in combination with each other, are one of the only ways I remember memories. As a baby, my dad would blast his favorite Latin Rock songs while driving. Those same songs are the ones that help me remember four-year-old me in my dad’s vintage red Mustang, along with our small family at the time, driving down the Pacific Coast to Malibu Beach. But now, I put on those same songs and fight memories of January of this year when that same Pacific Coast was fighting wildfires; some of the homes I passed as a child were now burned to ashes. Not every memory is a pleasant one, but that’s what I enjoy about my episodic music memory. The sound always brings comfort and warmth when the memory can’t.Â
My high school years were filled with an abundance of music. I had a social media presence that revolved around sound and my interpretation of it. At times it left me feeling tired or bored, but at other times, when I heard a new song for the first time, it took me back to different moments in time that I didn’t think I could ever remember, let alone forget when they were happening. A song doesn’t need to play during an event for you to associate the two. Sometimes the lyrics or the emotional connection of a new song can bring you back to a moment in your life. “DtMF” by Bad Bunny denotes how they wish they had taken more photos with their ex-partner, whilst regretting not soaking in the memories they shared together at the time. As mentioned, I share a special connection with Latin songs, and this one has special connotations. The classic Latin instrumentals (drums and backing vocals) remind me of my time in Mexico, where I grew a close connection to my family and origin. The lyrics have me grasping for every moment I shared with my grandma when I was younger, who only ever lived in Mexico but managed to leave a beautifully long-lasting impact on me. The song as a whole is a love letter to Mexico for me, reminding me not only of my roots but the memories I have with the country and the memories I still have left to make.Â
As I write this piece, I have a song playing in the background. “Don’t Forget You Love Me” by Calum Hood, as of now, reminds me of this point in college where I feel useless. There’s nothing for me to do but write this article, and once this is done, it’s just going through the motions for me until May hits. This song may be taking an odd and sad form of memory for me, but in a few weeks as the school year ends, and summer kicks up, I’m sure new memories will be made. These memories will leave my brain spiraling between hardships and the happiest moments of my life. A memory is your connection to your life, and no matter what form it takes to remind you of it, I find that it always leaves a lingering smile. Whether for better or worse, having this gateway to reminisce is something I wish to never give up.