(Note: This originally appeared in March 2004 on my old site, Swizzle-Stick. I’ll be digging into the archives once in a while to bring you content that is worth sharing)
Ever hear a song/album/band that reminds you of a very specific time and/or place in your life? The following was written by Shearwater’s Jonathan Meiburg:
Pink Floyd. On the 45-minute bus ride to and from the ninth grade in North Carolina they were just about all I listened to, especially a cassette that had Animals on one side and The Final Cut on the other. The trip was a perfect album-length. As soon as I plopped down in the seat (my house was the first stop on the route in the morning, and the last in the afternoon) I crammed the earbuds into my ears and pressed â€œPlayâ€ on my little Walkman, and the first strum of Roger Waters’ acoustic guitar on â€œPigs on the Wing, Pt. 1â€ or the muted French horns of â€œThe Postwar Dreamâ€ gave the school parking lot – or my cheerful, suburban neighborhood – an elegiac, desperate feeling that thrilled me. In the wintertime the windows would fog up and I’d rub a blurry little porthole away with my glove, watching the interstate, the endless stretches of pine trees, the crawling morning or afternoon traffic, and the bus driver’s creased, long-suffering face in the mirror.