Sometimes we simply forget about some of the songs we grew up with. Or we take take them for granted, since they’ve been with us for such a long time.
Sometimes we recognize the music and all of a sudden, we listen to it as if for the first time. Maybe because we weren’t into it when it came out. Or maybe because we didn’t listen to the lyrics, were exposed to it too much, or didn’t want to admit back then that it was, in fact, very good music.
This thought occurred to me this evening, when the homecoming concert of Gloria Estefan and The Miami Sound Machine was aired on TV. This 1989 concert recording is one of those special time pieces that prove how many songs are in our collective memories.
I have always liked the music of Gloria Estefan and The Miami Sound Machine. It was far away from my usual underground genre selection, but it always made me feel happy and ready to get up and dance. Moreover, it’s been part of my growing up.
Conga, Dr. Beat, Rhythm is gonna get you, Oye mi Canto. All songs that hit the charts. But also the ballads found their way into my memory. And while watching the concert, a melancholic feeling washed over me. A mix of excitement, recognition, love, loss, and that non-specific looking back, or rather, “feeling back”, where you know exactly who you were at that moment in time.
Funny thing, music memory. It’s a time portal. A wayback machine. Could be that one specific moment where you kissed your first love. Or the first break-up. Could also be a stretched period, when things came together; your first job, your graduation year, the sickbed of a loved one, a couple of holidays lumped together as one sentiment of events.
I watched the concert and saw the musicians having fun, the crowd going wild, I listened to the beautiful voice of Gloria Estefan, and I got caught in the rhythm of the Miami Sound Machine. A solid performance. One I would have loved being in the audience to experience it live.
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