I’m thinking of dedicating my memoir to The Civil Wars for the number of times I listened to their new album while working on the Fucker.
But the additional, and possibly embarrassing, truth is that I listen to a lot of REM while I write. I haven’t listened to REM in years, but “Automatic for the People” is the very fabric of my junior year in high school, and “Reveal” was on steady repeat when I worked at the bookstore.
So it brings me back like the sound of my mother’s coffee grinder (which I use daily), the incessant sawing of cicadas, and blue line of mountains on the horizon.
What reminds you of home?