Breaking out in song while in one's cups is perhaps a distinctly British custom because in my life I've only experienced it once in America.
It was in the late 90's in San Francisco. The remake of "Killing Me Softly" was at the top of the pop charts. I was visiting with an out of town friend, who had never seen S.F. After doing requisite sightseeing during the day, we caroused at night.
The last night we were there, it was nearing closing time at the bar we were in. (Don't ask me the name, I never remember such things. After all a bar's a bar.)
The DJ played one last song. It was "Killing Me Softly". The crowd erupted and leapt to their feet. We spontaneously joined together swaying along with strangers singing "our lives" with our words at the top of our lungs. Nothing else existed for those three minutes. The magical concoction of the hour, the libations and the song took us all to a place of eternal brotherhood. A perfect moment.
The hair still stands up on my neck when I hear that song.
5 comments:
Amazing how music affects each of us so differently based on experience. It's a perfectly good song that, at the very least, should have a benign effect on me. And yet it irritates the snot out of me every time I hear it, just because I happened to hear it once at the wrong moment, and I associate it with that memory. Funny, that.
I have songs that bring good memories, but not "strong" one. This said, I got one last week that I will probably remember forever ;)
Killing me softly is always so good.
Sit Down by James gives me the same timeless crowd rejoicing feeling!
or any Queen songs which tend to get everyone going ;-)
PS: have always fancied going to San Fran
I'm thinking Nancy Sinatra now!
Don't get me started with music and what it means to me.
The song I first remember making me feel that feeling, the one you describe, is "Black Water" by the Doobie Brothers.
I was in the choir in high school, and we had just been Christmas caroling at an old folk's home downtown (yes, I know that's not the politically correct term).
Anyway, Ritchie, who ended up being a professional opera singer, had this amazing tenor, and started singing it. We all chimed in. What was so amazing about it was that the parking garage we were in made us sound like rock stars.
Those moments are why we put up with all the shit in our lives.
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