The Music That Got Away

By Kylie Lam

Music is a blessing; music is a curse. It has such a massive impact, even in the most trivial ways. Every song resonates uniquely with one’s encounter, memory, and emotional linkage. However, its bittersweetness could be overwhelming, with bitterness occasionally overpowering sweetness a tad too much…

There is a prevalent association between music and memory. Retrieving memory is not always easy. However, music provides melody, rhythm, ambiance, and sometimes alliteration which unlocks both implicit and explicit memories with cues. 

Pop music, often found to have a stronger correlation to memories, represents the present. Whether we select it or not, this type of music is played in the background in our daily lives. The contemporary key to memories is often attached to a particular time, unlocking an unconscious familiarity within us. Within the topic of familiarity, music correlated to one’s ‘reminiscence bump period’ provokes more intensity and passion, as it is an especially important and exciting time, when one starts blossoming in aspects such as romance, travelling, career, independence, etc. for the first time, hence becoming the music that got away. 

Music evokes emotions, but it doesn’t necessarily define one’s feelings. A sad song could be associated with a happy time, a happy one with a sad one. Without a doubt, one’s reliance on music is irreplaceable. Yet, with great power comes great responsibilities — as influential as music is, the more one relies on music in terms of reliving certain memories, the more it heightens one’s emotional intensity. The higher you are, the harder the fall. Reminiscence and nostalgia could be associated with negative emotions, such as regret, poignancy, bleakness, etc. This is why the cute indie playlist you put together for your situationship hits especially hard when things have ended.

Like millions of people, music has a huge impact on me — both positively and negatively. I’ll admit it— sometimes I get toxic and I intentionally listen to music that provokes sorrow that is so intense that I physically cannot endure its entirety. It is sort of like exposure therapy, but it is definitely a dangerous game to play. Regardless, I think I am just not over some of the heartache I have experienced in my reminiscence bump. My efforts of intentionally burying the grief are in vain, so now I do the complete opposite. Instead of suppressing them, I intentionally unlock these memories with music to not only desensitize myself but to also give a new meaning to these songs. Quite empowering if you ask me. 

I have chosen several incredibly sentimental songs. As much as them being related to heartbreak, they are not entirely painful. Rather, it is a musical ‘bittersweetness’ that got away from me but also remains taunting.

7월 7일 (One Of These Nights)—Red Velvet

This R&B song is definitely underrated in the K-pop genre. I would like to applaud the ballad for its duality, its ethereal jazz infusions enhancing the dreaminess of the song. The song reminds me of my first love. Unrequited as it is, it means so much to me because it was my first time knowing the difference between ‘liking’ and ‘loving’ someone. You know how they say ‘first love never dies’? I vouch for its validity—like the lyrics in the song, my love for said person lingers forever, quite literally transcending temporal and dimensional constraints. The instrumental of the song is absolutely elegant, and the strings, bar chimes, and synth bells really enhance the celestial ambiance, exactly paralleling the surrealism of my first love—a memory that I’ve never possessed, yet never fades.  

An old story and me who stopped on that day
오래된 story와 그 날에 멈춘 나
We've been parting for longer than the time we loved
사랑한 시간보다 더 오래 이별하는 중인걸
Far away beyond the Milky Way
은하수 너머에 아득히 먼 곳에
I cross our white memories
하얀 우리의 기억을 건너는 나

Because it's okay even in a dream
꿈속이라도 괜찮으니까

we meet again one of these nights
우리 다시 만나

Don’t Think Twice—Dolly Parton

It was only when I was dating said person that I started appreciating Parton’s artistry and brilliance since she is the ultimate Parton fan. Nevertheless, I never identified as a fan of hers, though I enjoy her music. Maybe it has always foreshadowed our incompatibility.

I have mixed feelings about her favourite song. I cannot bear myself to endure the full track—it still triggers traumatic experiences that make me hyperventilate and physically nauseous (oh, the power of music). Regardless, it’s incredibly self-empowering. When I was still dating said person, I was never aware of the lyrics, assuming it was a run-on-the-mill love song. However, the more I listen to it, the more insight I gain.

Walking down that lone lonesome road, babe
Where I'm bound well I can't tell
But goodbye is too good a way, babe
So I'm gonna say thee farewell

But I ain't saying you treated me unkind
You could have loved me better, but no, I don't mind
But you just kinda sorta wasted my precious time
Don't think twice, it's alright

I’ve struggled to accept I got stabbed in the heart by someone I was besotted with. Yet, the song enlightened me—I am not accountable for mending a relationship if I am not the one who broke it off. My desire for closure was not reciprocated, and it has remained troubling. It made me understand a lack of closure is closure—seeking farewell from said person is too good a way for me. Accepting the truth in order to re-love myself is a better way to go in the long run, rather than resentment.

So no, I don’t hate you because I love myself.

Queen of High School—Hana Vu & Willow Smith

My associated memory has nothing to do with the song’s lyrics. Rather, the bittersweetness is derived from its inherently nostalgic ambiance. The indie song restores my faith in being able to ‘feel’ amid life’s shambles. The night consisted of incessant midnight conversations, with the smell of cigarettes lingering in the inclement air. The violet lights of St Salvator’s lawn barely lit up the place—it was in fact perfectly dimmed. The tension of anticipation could be cut with a knife, no one dared make the first move, especially being immersed in this particularly unsettling, yet euphoric tranquillity.

Specifically, I remember these particular lyrics made me ‘gain conscience’ when our lips finally collided:

 Maybe we'll have a good kiss
Maybe we'll feel the abyss
And maybe look at the stars and we'll cry

As much as I have dated, that night felt incredibly different—I felt safe. Although the timing is horribly wrong, I really like her. Despite meeting said person very recently, the connection feels refreshing and magical to me. I know I would do anything to make her happy—she deserves the world, and she is precious. Whatever yields as the future unfolds, seeing her happy is my ultimate wish. The song rekindles my courage to care for someone. Love is a losing game, but it’s okay—after all, caring is what makes us human.

It is insane to me that music can emotionally evoke so contrastingly. Likewise, one’s views could differ polarly depending on their perspectives and circumstances. To me, music is my guardian angel in the sense that it supports, comforts, and enlightens me. The intimacy everyone develops with music is unique, and it is such an incredible support system for self-growth. Hearing music, and remembering various experiences. help recall the more complex experiences. Although it’s not always positive, music heals.