This song stirs nostalgia and longing in me. I heard it the first time during my 5-week-stint in Nova Scotia. It was frequently played by the radio stations there and I bought the band's album as well after returning home.
Reading about your deep connection to your girls with music as intensifying bridge is elating and envy-provoking at the same time. BUT: That was one of the fun things my Mom and I made a habit of doing, too.
She would share her love for Rod Stewart, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, Eurythmics/Annie Lennox, Bonnie Tyler, Eva Cassidy, etc. and I would share my love for The Verve, Amy Winehouse, Amy Macdonald, Spice Girls, No Doubt, and such. I always agreed with her, but she only on the two Amys with me.
It's weird, but I never imagined using songs as ringtones... pre-installed ringtones, yes, but no songs. Still don't do it... but I choose a different song every few weeks for my alarm.
I also smile every time I hear a song that reminds me of someone, either dead or alive, and I will definitely pass it on to my future kids. Okay, I'm already 37 and corona confines us to our houses, but hope is still alive that someone considerate for the task Olivia will come along and join me for the project kids.
Honestly, I knew the moment I first heard that one that it wasn't originally from Cher. Just not her cup of tea. However, it's one of my faves by Cher, just because she manages as well to create this almost innocent, elated Sixties mood. The original is cool, too! Just am listening to it.
Whoa, I'm so sorry that your mom was so turned off by the real-live (intended, no spelling error) Cher. But sometimes when reality meets our image of someone, the latter can get shattered pretty quickly sometimes.
I was 16 when that song came out and it was a real ear worm... still is!
I cannot not dance when I hear it - or at least tap the wheel - which looks like I'm suffering a seizure. But who cares?
Did you know that Lou is from Munich where I studied? (There are so many cool singers / bands no one would consider being German.)
Oh, I know the music limbo. Mom and Dad had very special tastes - it was always a tug war when we went on car trips, like driving across Germany from the Rhine Valley to Munich to my Grandparents. Thank God they got me a walkman and later a discman, and so could listen to my own music. (Yup, guilty! I wasted my whole pocket money on music and books. Veeeery good "investments".).
It's interesting - but even more moving - that this song is tied to such a crucial time in your life. Its positivity crashes so hard against the cruel reality. I'm so sorry to read that. How must it have been to have your daughter come along so short after your great loss. BUT: it's SO AWESOME when parentandchild share such a musical cord over the generations and decades, isn't it?
I mean with Dad and me it was Lana Del Rey and Coldplay. Lana Del Rey... a guy in his Seventies, go figure!
The world is wonderfully weird. And music keeps this fact alive.
Wow - I did learn something new. I didn't know this song was by Talking Heads. The first time I heard it was on the 1995 album "Medusa" by Annie Lennox, which is awesome, too: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUt23gnC4mk.
Content-wise...
... it is sad when a friendship slowly goes sour because part of the clique can't expand their range, geographically and probably also personally. It stirred some nostalgic feelings reading about your relaxed companionship at first, but sometimes, at some point, things go wrong and you have to take action, even if it's sad... and sometimes even hurts.
I'm in the process of ending two formerly very important friendships. It took me long and caused a lot of suffering beforehand, but now I can let go. It's better for me. I'll find other - and more honest and decent - friends when we may go out again ... and until then I'll stick with the handful friends I already have.
Maybe some things should rest in the past. Maybe they don't survive the present or the future. But in the past they mostly stay good... and stay vivid in nostalgic moments. }
This is a cool song and I always sing along when it comes on - much to the horror of my company.
Since I'm born in 1983, I didn't do much dancing to it, neither alone nor with company, except on my Mom's arm!
My Mom was a lot into these guys with raspy voice and guitars, piano and drums. I have that from her, I guess. Guess, not everything was bad in our often violent Bipolar lingo.
Whoa, you met soldiers so young!? That's a shocking surprise, honestly. Not many German gals would do that, but so people in the different countries around the world have their customs. (Oops, I hope I didn't step on your toes here. That wasn't my intention.)
I'm actually listening to the song right now - and singing along. Hopefully, my neighbors don't call the police!
Funny enough it's one of my earliest memories. Back when my family and I still lived in Cologne, my Mom used to hear it and dance to it when she couldn't sleep at night and my Dad was on business trips. She used to pick me up and whirl me around to it - yup, I guess I was the only kid in history who could - or not - sleep whenever she wanted. A miracle I developed a relatively healthy sleep pattern nevertheless.
Until the bipolar disorder raised its dirty head and I'd wake through whole nights, barely sleeping two or three hours at night when hypomanic. Funnily, history repeated itself, and the two years before I discovered WDC, I would do weird things at night, like doing the dishes, washing my laundry at 3 in the night, watching TV or - well - listen to music and sing and dance along... until the neighbors complained about me having loud parties through the night!.
It was like "You spin me round" - and "Insomnia" by Faithless - were ingrained in my DNA during those study years back in Munich in the 2000s / 2010s.
But enough babble about me now, sorry!
I felt bad for you for being ripped out of your circle of friends, from your usual environment and forced to live in a place that was alien to you. That hurts, especially before such an important day like a birthday where you want your gang with you. Not to mention having no Skype or Zoom or Facebook or WhatsApp to at least exchange congratulations or see each other while talking. Imagining your isolation and aloneness was only too relatable.
Parents can be such insensitive and selfish pissers. They think they know what's best for you, but that can spectacularly backfire at them when the ungrateful brat doesn't like their ideas as much. Of course, something's wrong with the immature kid, not them.
I had such a set, too. You reviewed "The Chainsmokers: Something just like this" . It was true what I wrote especially about my mother. It was hard to love her when she still lived (it was easier with Dad who was more "accessible"), but I never stopped trying.
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BUT: That was one of the fun things my Mom and I made a habit of doing, too. 
, No Doubt, and such. I always agreed with her, but she only on the two Amys with me. 
But sometimes when reality meets our image of someone, the latter can get shattered pretty quickly sometimes. 
BUT: it's SO AWESOME when parent and child share such a musical cord over the generations and decades, isn't it?
