STOP FORWARDING ME EMAILS composed by some anonymous person about how much women love their sisters-friends. Do not do that. I know you’re busy. We’re all busy, so that’s no excuse. You want to tell a sister you love her? Fill her heart with song. Send her the song that you shared, stomach down, ankles crossed, lying on her canopied bed while you wondered aloud if someone would ever ever ever love you like James loved Suzanne. Send her the song you learned to teach one another your dance steps, or while you practiced making out against the mirror, or driving back to college. Or…
…the one you danced to together in front of your husbands one night not long ago that made those grown men retreat to the nearest wall and simply stare.
Send her the memory of the way you both learned to leave those bad boyfriends and move on to the now of your lives.
Send her the soundtrack of your sisterhood. It’s never been easier.
I put together the song track of some important friendships in my life, those songs we listened to that either one of us could hear and nod, and laugh and say, “Oh yeah, that’s us.” Of course, it begins with Margaret, my sister, and the Christmas we were given not only a record player, but 45s to play on it. And the very first of those? You’ll have to play it to hear it, and then you can imagine those little Roach girls dancing in our shared bedroom, there between the twin beds. The record player and 45s were accompanied by a manicure set that Christmas. So we did our nails, we danced, and life was very good, indeed.
Not long after that, things changed, though these songs are forever, aren’t they? And that’s what’s wonderful: that, and the visuals that travel across time on the music.
For me and Coconuts it was her newly married sister’s gold deep pile wall-to-wall carpet that I see when I think of our song. Even the smell of that carpet comes back as I write this. It was my first teen party, and her sister’s only admonition was that we be sure to dance away the new-carpet look of the place. We obliged.
What would your chronological sisterhood playlist look like? And where in the world would we be without it? A few years ago, I had the great good fortune to meet and talk with James Taylor, and was able to thank him for providing a nearly lifelong soundtrack. It felt really good to say, and since I cannot thank the other artists, I’ll say thanks for the music, sisters.
My ultimate playlist: 10 women, 10 songs, in chronological order:
Big Sister Margaret: Ricky Nelson, Travelin’ ManKerry: Cyrkle, Red Rubber Ball
Coconuts: Young Rascals, Good Lovin’
Kathy: The Monkees, Daydream Believer
Priscilla: James Taylor, Fire and Rain
Sooze: Cat Stevens, Wild World
Pats: Fleetwood Mac, Go Your Own Way
Dr. Jane: Allman Brothers, Loan Me a Dime
See how this works? It’s free, it’s easy, it’s oh-so-very Glee to do this, and Glee is, after all, hands-down hipper and happier than some chain e-mail. So send me no more of those. Go on, sisters: Send me a song. (TSP Sister Paige already did.)
Related posts:
- The Sisterhood Holiday Sing-Along YOU KNOW HOW WE LOVE US SOME SINGALONGS. I mean,...
- How to Get a Guy, Vintage-Style WHEN I READ SISTER ANASTASIA’S “Tips for Single Ladies (c....
- Sister Fiction: Tania James WE LOVE TANIA JAMES. Her beautiful bikini-waxing, husband-avoiding, vibrant sisters...
First time here? Here's the idea: 
{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
aka Dr. Jane here. Less than 48 hours ago someone asked how we met, and so I told the story of how you burst into my dorm room without knocking (I was shocked) when you heard ‘Somebody Loan Me a Dime,’ saying you couldn’t find any recorded version of it. By the way, it was Boz Scaggs on vocal, and the track was included in ‘The Best of Duane Allman, Part II.’ Brain cells still working here. I’m pretty sure you copped my last cigarette while explaining just who you were. Sistah!
Music was such a huge part of those SLU days, and in addition to the above I would relate our good times, in part, to lots of Todd Rundgren, Orleans, and Bonnie Raitt. Doobie Bros., and Stones, of course. Geez, I could go on forever. Sorry, Beff, but the song I think of first when I think of you is that awful ‘You Are the Woman’ that you kept playing on the jukebox while we were trying to kick some butt on Foosball. For many nights, mind you. And what about ‘Babe?’ Not that you didn’t rock! But couldn’t you have kept these your guilty secret pleasures? ;^) Oh man, I just now flashed on Julie and the endless playing of ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’… I’m going to go crank up Dire Straits for a few hours. I do like your list, Marion!
The doctor is in the house. And we all feel better. Thanks, Dr. Jane. I, too, told that story recently, which may be what got the brain cells moving in this direction. Of course I copped your last smoke. I was famous for never having my own. Last time I was at St. Lawrence, I walked that hall and that song came roaring back in my head, and I found my self outside your door again. It was sweet–very, very sweet indeed to be there. Thanks, Doctor. So glad to find you here again on TSP. Come back and we’ll sing some more.
Big surprise, huh, that your list sounds so different from mine, little sister? I do remember those first records (Ricky Nelson, yup, exactly). I need to make my list, which veered quickly into Motown and other places like Doors, Stones, Hendrix, Traffic….I could go on.
Sister music *must* include Kate and Anna McGarrigle!!
Sadly, Kate McGarrigle (mother of Rufus and Martha Wainwright) died last week… Canadians are still in mourning.
Here is one of their funniest, The Log Driver’s Waltz:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upsZZ2s3xv8
Not sure if i can link it here, but Cris Williamson’s whole album, ‘The Changer and the Changed’ is my sister-playlist, the album my friends and I *crank* whenever we’re together in the presence of a CD player or stereo system.
The title track, ‘Wild Things,’ ‘Waterfall,’ ‘Hurts like the Devil,’ and of course the perfect track for this thread: ‘Sister.’
http://www.criswilliamson.com/about/music/the_changer.html#
This reminds me of you and my dad everytime! Remember driving somewhere (skiing? Lake George?) with my portable record player on the seat between us???? We played this over and over and over again–poor dad… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMj7UcjPZ0U
And the the night we stayed up to the wee hours of the morning dancing to this–I was (and still am) a terrible dancer; you, of course, were wonderful.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bJI5QDfglk
Hi, Monica: Oh, I love the reminder of the McGarrigle sisters, particularly The Log Driver’s Waltz. That video is astonishingly fun. Thanks so much. The Canadians are not the only ones who mourn the loss; Margaret and I have been very sad, indeed.
Hi, Pat: Ooooh, Chris Williamson. How kind of you to turn us on to your turntable. And yes: Sisters. That’s perfect. Thanks so much. And please come back soon for more.
Hey, Priscilla: I was just telling the story of the battery-powered turntable to my family the other day! Everyone thought I was out of my mind, insisting there never was such a thing. I remember that drive up–and your father’s pipe smoke!–like it was yesterday. Yes: Five hours in the car with us. Oh my. Poor man, though the music was great. And still is. I love those videos you sent. And yes, of course I remmeber dancing and dancing and dancing with you in the room with your canopied bed. But my fondest memory is of James Taylor, and you giving me the gift of his music. I remember writing the lyrics to “Fire and Rain” on a sheet of loose leaf paper, and putting them in the front pouch of my overalls (of course), and carrying them with me when I had to go off to a sailing meeting. I probably still have them in a diary.
Too wonderful.
Thanks for the memories, sister. Let’s make some more.
The song I associate with my sisters is “Band of Gold” by Freda Payne. It came out the summer my little sisters and I spent every day at my grandfather’s store in an urban center. He’d had surgery that summer so my mom would drag the the three of us there every day as she was minding the shop for him. We spent most of our time with the girls who lived in the apartment building next door…going up to the roof of the building and playing the transistor radio for hours. We played games, sang to the tunes, and danced. “Band of Gold” was everyone’s favorite and being tuned into AM radio we must’ve heard it 100 times a day but it never failed to get us on our feet…dancing and pretending we had microphones and singing along with Freda.
Hi there, Jane Anne. Margaret and I loved that song, as well. In fact, in my first draft of that post, I had her in 2 spots–first, with Ricky Nelson, and later on with Band of Gold, but decided in the rewrite to give another sister a chance. What’s most vivid for me about the song and the time in which we danced like wild maniacs to it, is how is how Margaret, older sister that she is, realizing that I did not understand the lyrics, sat me down and explained to me why it might be that “that night on our honeymoon/we stayed in separate rooms.” I was shocked. SHOCKED! Ha ha ha ha ha. Thanks for bringing Freda to the sisters. Please come back soon for more.
Thank you for including me in your sisterhood playlist. All I can say Marion, is that it was probably a good thing that we didn’t meet until the disco revolution was over.
As you, I have spent most of my adult life dancing. I’ve enjoyed engaging in total reckless abandon – alone in the privacy of my living room, out until the wee hours at dance clubs in the late 70′s (you’re the only person who remembers my favorite disco classic “Cream Always Rises to the Top” ), undulating to tribal music at my favorite art bar “Flaming Colossus” in LA in the 80′s, and for the last two decades doing the dance with my husband (usually I’m trying to lead). But undoubtedly, the most uninhibited and elevating dance moments have been those shared with my sister friends.
Marion, our daughters and husbands have witnessed things between us, however unfortunate for them, they’ve never tried to stop. Ricky Martin, She Bangs was one of those things.
Sharon, that we didn’t meet during the disco years is probably the single reason why we’re both here to tell about it. I nearly put Cream Always Rises to the Top for your song, except for the fact that times we’ve bopped to it is when we’re singing it aloud; we never seem to have a copy to play. So I found us one. No matter: the Ricky Martin night still wins out. And I think I still have the bruises to prove why. Dance on, sister. We love that about you.
Looking down my Ipod playlist, I found 10 songs for 10 sisters, in no particular order, that delayed sitting down to write something for at least 3 hours. I had them linked to youtube videos, not sure if the links came through:
1.Mary Beth—April Come She Will (Simon & Garfunkel)
2.Mother-in-law Sadie—I’ll Tell Me Ma, aka The Belle of Belfast city (Tommy Makem)
3.My sister Kathleen—Chicken Soup with Rice (Carol King)
4.Linzi—Dancing Queen (Abba)
5.Connie—Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)
6.Sharon—It’s Raining Men (Weather Girls) BTW, the video is hilarious!
7.My sister Joanna—Never Die Young (James Taylor)
8.Irene—Sunshine on My Shoulders (John Denver)
9.Francesca Bella—Io Canto (Laura Pausini) And you thought concerts in English were huge….
10.Jocelyn—Ballady (Arabic version by Lelia Forouhar) The music is good, the video a bore.
Oh, DJ. We love this. We are busy dancing right now to your playlist, as well as thinking about those fortunate women you love enough to include on that list. And what a cool, diverse set of songs. That’s sisterhood, isn’t it? Thanks so much. And do come back soon.