There's something about the beginning and the end of every summer that inevitably triggers nostalgia for me. For me, summer is warm nights holding hands, hot days lounging on the beach, cool beer, sweet wines, bright lights, and carefree months of bliss. And ice cream. Sweet mercy, don't forget the ice cream. When summer comes around again, I'm flooded with memories of happy times.
This year, I've been returning to the albums that I was head over heels for this time last year, and reveling in the memories of everything that I was doing while those songs played in the background. Hint: it was usually totally legal. For me, these albums just sound better when the weather's warm. Albums like My Morning Jacket's Evil Urges, Backdoor Slam's Roll Away, and Fleet Foxes' self-titled Fleet Foxes.
I'm sure I'll be touching on all of these albums in the weeks to come. But when I was in B's car the other day scrounging through the stacks of our CDs that weren't scratched up to hell, I came across the Kate Nash album that I probably haven't listened to since last August. Let's just say I'm a sucker for the subtle violin.