I have a soft spot for love songs, which is a damn good thing considering it’s the single most popular theme in popular music. All my love affairs have songs or entire albums dedicated to them – which is probably one of the reasons that I have such a great deal of fondness for the movie High Fidelity with the incomparable John Cusack – who I probably relate to more than any modern actor because of certain similarities in age and aesthetics. In High Fidelity Cusack, after breaking up with his girlfriend, reviews his failed love affairs in terms of the music of his life. He makes a list of his top five breakups.
In a way I could put together my own play list of failed relationships. I’m not even going to share some of the teen angst ones – but I can tell you that I can still feel a catch in my throat and catch the long ago scent of a lost sweetheart from some golden oldies. I am particularly amused, in retrospect, by my choice of You’re the One by Paul Simon for a passionate affair I had some time back – primarily because I ignored the lyrics (you’re the one, you broke my heart) and I applied it optimistically to the living breathing relationship because she was, you know, the ONE (you are the air inside my chest). I have found the same strange flip flop of emotion from hope to loss in many of my choices – almost as if I anticipated the end at the start.
What surprises me now is that no song or album has spoken to me in my current love. This time love came sneaking in on softly shod feet and wrapped warm arms around me and refuses to let me go. It’s not the love of a young idealistic fool anymore and instead there are many songs, many moods, but not one song needs to be sung. I don’t find myself moodily attached to a particular refrain because it’s expressing my longing to be more complete with my loved one, it’s also a good thing she doesn’t get jealous when I slip an old lover on the stereo and reminisce some old pain I had.