This Story is a Love Story
“Every Story is a Love Story” claims the musical Aida. So let me introduce you to one of my recently rediscovered loves with the help of Spotify data.
The first time I heard the Aida soundtrack I was in 5th or maybe 6th grade. The original cast recording was older than me. I had a dream of stardom, hopping from community theater show to community theater show. I couldn’t sing (I still can’t), but you never would have guessed from the smiley, curly-haired dork under-enunciating in the back of the chorus. I bought the CD so I could practice at home, but I don’t remember listening to it outside of the car. I played the soundtrack on loop for the entire duration of the three-month-long production and even longer afterward.
Singing the music from Aida made me feel grown-up. In part, because of the show design—I was the second youngest cast member, so rehearsals meant getting to ‘chill’ real-life teenagers. Plus, in my favorite song, “My Strongest Suit,” I got to wear bright orange lipstick, like a real adult.
But the bigger reason I kept listening was that my mom loved that soundtrack. She has a story about how she got to see the show on Broadway with her mom and was surprised to see Elton John, the composer of the show, playing the piano. Back then, I was still in that darling phase where I wanted to be just like my mother. Being in Aida, listening to the music she loved, meant one step closer to growing up and becoming like her.
As with all many childhood phases, it faded. My obsession with my mother quickly became ‘lame.’ I entered a new phase and in this one when my mom played the soundtrack in her car, I rolled my eyes and groaned; “Mom we’ve heard this a million times” or “I wanna listen to my music” or [insert countless other angsty teen soundbytes].
Eventually, my mom stopped trying to play the soundtrack, and I forgot about it. I assumed it would become another one of those childhood things you just grow out of. That is, until this past fall when my mom’s mom passed away.
I jetted back home for the weekend of the funeral, and in the car leaving the family hour, my mom played the Aida soundtrack.
“Grandma and I used to listen to this in the car,” she announced firmly, anticipating our disdain. We wouldn’t dare say anything, so instead, the rest of us glanced around and tried to cut the awkwardness with a conversation, but eventually we were left with just the hum of the music in the background.
I’ll admit it was weird hearing it again. Familiar but foreign. I felt eons away from the last time I had heard the album. But when “How I Know You” switched to “My Strongest Suit” I felt the urge to sing along. I failed to remember most of the words, so singing sounded more like mumbling and stumbling through the song. My mom joined me in mumbling along.
“This was grandma’s favorite,” she interjects during the dance break. That's not surprising. She was the most fashion-forward person I knew, and as the song says, “not to strut your stuff outrageously is a crime.” Hearing those lyrics again, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she helped Elton write the song.
Eventually, the car ride ended, as did the weekend and I traveled home. In hindsight, I was still grieving and a little homesick, but I was nowhere near realizing that. What I did instead was listen to Aida. Actually, whenever I was stressed, sad, or angry I found myself slipping back to those familiar tunes—sometimes for days at a time.
In the 6 months since my grandmother's funeral, Aida has taken over my streams. Spotifiy’s ‘top track’ calculation measures my affinity for certain songs based on my behaviors while it's playing and how often I play it within different approximate time intervals: the past month, the past 6 months, and all time (for me that just over a year’s worth of data since I started using spotify regularly in January 2021).
At the 6 month interval, 60 percent of my top 15 tracks are from the Aida soundtrack. That domination is only possible because Aida displaced many of the songs on the all-time top tracks list. But perhaps my obsession is fading. This month's data suggests a potential rebound of the classics; Aida songs are still concentrated at the top, but others are beginning to creep from to the bottom. We’ve even displaced one Aida track altogether.
Does this mean my music is normalizing? Is Aida my new normal? Am I healing from the loss of my grandmother, and preparing to pack away my musical comfort blanket for another 10 years? Or will the next hurtle bring it all back?
Yes.. no..maybe? If this is a love story between me and Aida, I’ve yet to see if it ends in happily ever after. But I know when I listen to the soundtrack, it doesn't make me feel grown-up anymore. Instead, I feel warm, comforted, like being held in a nostalgic blanket. And with me under that blanket is my mom and her mom, and they both feel closer than ever.