For some reason, this past fortnight has been full of nostalgia for me. I think the strange holding pattern we’re in has skewed my perception of time. Given the uncertainty about what lies ahead, I’ve been looking back…

This has been reinforced by a trip down memory lane via some of my favourite tunes from a particular period in my life - that period when your identity is still entirely malleable, and your cultural references are a perfect blend of those around you.

In my case, this was the first handful of years of a new millennium, when the music industry was still booming, and the general vibe (at least in my own surrounds) was oh-so optimistic. Music from this period of my life feels like the perfect metaphor for my attitudes at that time. The time before adulthood, when I had friendships based almost entirely on shared musical tastes. (Of course, because music was such a deep and profound thing for me, these were consequently very deep and profound friendships.)

Give me any song on this list and I could almost pinpoint its direct source from one of the following categories:

plenty of commercial pop and rnb from a specific time before tastes were fragmented by streaming
stacks of local talent via the radio on Triple J 24/7 (much to the delight of my mother, and no doubt my college roomie)
my obsession with Top of the Pops which gave me a bit of uk garage, a bit of britpop, a bit of ambient, a bit of eurotrash
late night and early morning Rage viewing that opened my eyes to the taste of my favourite artists
burned cd compilations of torrented songs from obscure acts, crafted for specific road trips with friends old and new
seemingly universally beloved songs from slightly before our time, sung at the top of our lungs at college turns
movie soundtracks bringing to life fictional worlds that at times felt more vivid than my own reality
the dear friends and boyfriends who introduced me to a new collection of bands and influences
those few formative summers when gigs and festivals were an essential slice of my social life
solo travels and travels with friends, surreal moments in far off places and cultures that weren’t really mine, but I borrowed bits from anyway,
tunes that signalled compulsory dance floor activity with specific groups of friends from the very specific summers between adolescence and adulthood
songs and albums that are so much of a particular cultural moment that they take me right back there whenever they’re played like a sonic time capsule.

This was a time that moments (soundtracked by this collection) became memories. I was not-quite-aware that this would happen - that I would one day look back at this period through rose tinted glasses and remember it as the absolute best of times.

This was the time just before I met my husband - which I realise now created a firm before-and-after line. Everything before then feels inherently like “my youth”, and everything after blends with present day, and is part of my (ongoing transition to) adulthood. Many of these songs are so strongly linked to that before time that they are not necessarily still a part of my listening habits these days, which only serves to reinforce their nostalgic value. Rather than timeless classics, these so perfectly encapsulate those years where everything felt simultaneously transient and light, but also important and possible.

I’ve been thinking about why these songs have felt so precious to me over the last week or so. It is something the wonderful Sandi Sieger captures beautifully in her piece here, and this Anna Spargo-Ryan piece also articulates. All of these moments - and their associated soundtracks - are precious to me because of the people they include. Old friends, new friends, temporary friends, fictional friends, friends like me, friends completely unlike me, groups of people who despite our differences felt like me because we were all experiencing the same thing at the same time.

I think the kind of grief I’ve experienced over the last month or so is the sadness that COVID-19 means that I’m missing out on forming new memories. Instead, days go on and on, each one feeling as unremarkable as the last - perhaps that will be my prevailing memory of this. Any moments with friends and family are mostly happening virtually (and let’s be honest, that isn’t quite the same) and tinged with a sense of sadness and disbelief for the current situation, a nervousness that this reality might extend for longer than we’re prepared to come to terms with, particularly for those of us in Victoria.

Almost all of my closest friends have young families and are no doubt forming new memories with their little people during this time. I can’t even begin to understand how challenging that must be in this environment. I always wanted my new memories to be about travel rather than kids, but with that on hold like so much of our lives, these songs bring back such visceral memories that they act as a substitute for the new ones we’re not able to form together now.

In a time of individualised content, streaming and political fractures, collective cultural experiences like the one we’re all going through together are so rare. One day, we’ll look back on this time as an extraordinarily unique thing we all went through together - a strange mix of loneliness and isolation, and global solidarity. Whether we like it or not, this will stay with us - memorable experiences or not.

In the meantime, I have these songs - a direct connection to the time of our lives when everything we did was a memory waiting to be stored away for a future moment, ready to be recalled and treasured with the slightest reminder - sonic or otherwise.

This little walk down memory lane has reminded me that even in this strange eternal unknown that seems to stretch on forever I can cultivate precious moments, connect with friends old and new, and find ways to form new memories that I’ll be reminiscing about in years to come.