When I asked my daughter Sophia to name her favorite One Direction song, she thought for a second and replied, ‘What a Feeling.’ I thanked her and withdrew, having decided on my Song of the Day for today, her 16th birthday.
Later she asked me why I wanted to know, and when I told her, she bristled, saying something along the lines of “Wait, that might not be the song I want to define me.”
I generally have an uncannily good memory when it comes to music. I can remember when I bought an album, when I first listened to it, when I first played it for somebody else. I remember throwaway comments my wife or kids or other family members make about specific songs and artists.
Yes, I generally have a very good memory when it comes to music. But sometimes I find myself at a complete loss. I have a dozen or so artists in my CD collection who may well have found their way there via magical elves as far as I’m concerned, so little recollection do I have of their origin.
Meet Me In Montauk 