As the leaves begin to turn and fall and the air begins to chill, calendars flip to reveal the spooky joy of October. Class is in full swing, homework is piling up and exams loom over the heads of many. Autumn has officially arrived.
While adjusting to the shift, members of the Impact took a moment to reminisce on their summers, carefully selecting the song that defined their summer. Let these selections serve as one last fleeting glance at the freedom and warmth of summer, and remind you of what awaits us next June.
To listen to our 2024 Songs of the Summer playlist, check out the link at the bottom of this article. But first, feel free to reminisce and reflect with us, if you so choose:
Ashe Burr – “The Kids are Alright” by Ayra Starr
Every summer seems to have its own theme. Mine, for all three of these articles at least, has been wild. My first summer was spent stressing about my friendships scattering across the nation. Last year, I was fighting a losing battle with a manager who didn’t seem to care about the state of my mental or physical well-being. Little did me a year ago realize that my summer’s themes were the first two stages of grief. Denial and anger were so prevalent that I anticipated bargaining would be the one for this year. Or at least depression. But nope, it was acceptance.
In my mixtape, Crying on the Subway Halfway Across the World From Everything You Know, I mentioned how sitting on the subway from Chubu Centrair International Airport to Nagoya Station, I finally came to terms with the fact that I was quite literally on the other side of the planet from all of my friends and family. But what I didn’t mention is that I was listening to The Year I Turned 21 by Ayra Starr at the same time. As soon as “The Kids are Alright” came on, I finally came to terms with my situation.
The opening monologue that Ayra’s mother said reflected a conversation between my dad and I a couple of days before I left for Japan. I swear, hearing it in Nagoya gave me a stronger sense of déjà vu than anything I could imagine. And then the closing conversations. The messages between Ayra’s siblings to her deceased father, telling him about how they are doing and what their lives have been like really just hit in ways I couldn’t even expect.
Comfort can come from so many different places, even when it isn’t intended. Ayra wrote this song to help come to terms with her father’s passing. I had just landed after my third flight to my final destination, at least for the week. I don’t really show emotion, yet this made me cry like a waterfall. On the subway. Halfway across the world from everything I knew.
Ryan Wilbert – “Timeline” by hey, nothing
Oh, where to begin? Coming off the heels of my first year at college, I confidently set foot into what would be the longest summer I have ever experienced — literally. Sweatshirts and jeans plague the memory of my early summer weeks in April, something that seems completely foreign to my exhaustion of shorts and t-shirts in the scalding weeks that rounded out August. Therefore, it feels like the life I experienced at the start of the summer is an entirely different chapter than the one I am ending now — somehow.
So, what song really captures the entirety of my summer? Initially, I figured it would be any track by my recent obsession, Jake Minch, and his ability to be somberly reflective yet utterly immediate in his songwriting — but I wasn’t that blue (I hope). Maybe it’s my personal song of the year, “Next Semester” by Twenty One Pilots, a track that captures both pop-punk energy and the classic ukulele lamenting that only Tyler Joseph can pull off. But it would be wrong not to consider something like “Easier to Love You” by Porter Robinson, a little-too-close-to-home song with synth lines both 12-year-old and 18-year-old me go feral over.
Ah! Damn me for feeling too much this summer! If only there were one song that had just the right amount of longing and melancholy, yet general optimism for the future! Yeah, if you didn’t figure it out by now, here’s where “Timeline” by hey, nothing comes knocking on the proverbial door of my summer.
Indie-folk influences with simple chord progressions used so masterfully it won’t leave your head? Check. Beautiful vocal harmonies with a little rasp? Check. Lyrics that convey a deep desire to be more for yourself and in the eyes of another? Check. This song is like my child; I feel responsible for protecting it. If I don’t listen to this song at least once a week, I think I’ll go insane. That slight twinge of bittersweetness we taste in the fleeting moments we have with the people we meet, the very people we yearn to get closer to, combined with the inherent dissociation of the present that arises when traveling — this song nails these themes down into the ground with such clairvoyance, it’s upsettingly impressive.
I think my issue is that I like to fly among the clouds more than I like resting on the ground. Sometimes I just can’t let go of the little things. Chapters bleed into one another when they all consist of the same dreams I become bedazzled by. The only way I can distinguish the months these days is the length of my hair. So, as I pray for the summer heat to leave my sight, it’s clear this song will continue to pepper my fall semester with a general yearning I am incapable of escaping — and, hey, if it’s this catchy, I’m boarding the plane to my headspace, no questions asked.
Sky Curtright – “OTHERSIDE” by Bladee & Sickboyrari
One would think that an album with the word “cold” in its title wouldn’t be the best for summer listening, but Swedish rapper Bladee’s most recent release COLD VISIONS, ended up being my soundtrack for the hottest days of the year. I’ve been a fan of Bladee’s uniquely icy and atmospheric take on hip-hop since my freshman year of high school, so his dropping an album reflecting on his decade-long career as I prepared to enter my freshman year of college felt like something of a full-circle moment.
Due to its lengthy 30-song tracklist, picking just one song from COLD VISIONS for this article was something of a challenge. I felt a lot of strange, conflicting emotions during this gap between high school and college, but what song would best define those? Would it be a song like “KING NOTHINGG” or “TERRIBLE EXCELLENCE,” with their apocalyptic bass and desperate flows? Those songs certainly connected with me, but would the ethereal synths of “LUCKY LUKE” or the emotional lyricism of “FLATLINE” better represent the bittersweet ocean of feelings I found myself in? Ultimately, I landed on “OTHERSIDE,” a song that I believe brings together all of these elements into one of the most compelling tracks of Bladee’s entire career.
With a beat produced by F1LTHY and Lukrative — two figures who have pushed the sound of modern hip hop to new futuristic heights — “OTHERSIDE” immediately grabbed my attention when I first heard it. While many stylistically similar songs have failed to take advantage of this initial intrigue, Bladee effortlessly carries the momentum provided to him by the instrumental. His verse is characteristically introspective, delving into his troubled mental state with a sense of urgency that was seldom seen on previous releases of his.
“Nothing works, but sleep don’t hurt /
Dirty life, baptized in dirt /
In my soul, a growing hole /
Void that spreads out of control /
Panic, that became the norm /
Out of fear, a child is born /
Only calm once in the storm /
Faith in stars I can’t afford /
Time pass by and brought me more /
Yet, I’m weaker than before.”
This combination of a pounding beat with semi-poetic lyricism makes up the bulk of the track (and of COLD VISIONS as a whole), but Bladee’s frequent changes in delivery and eccentric ad-libs make sure the song never feels static. Further shaking things up, fellow cloud rap pioneer Sickboyrari (A.K.A. Black Kray) contributes a verse that, while being much briefer and more superficial than Bladee’s section, still acts as a welcome addition and a strong close to the song.
If I’m being totally honest, I didn’t really do that much over the summer. I spent the first few weeks decompressing from my senior year of high school, and the second half was largely dominated by a job that I mostly got because I didn’t have anything better to do. Through this time period that was simultaneously boring and filled with anxiety, “OTHERSIDE” seemed to speak to me no matter what mood I was in. Whether it played while I was driving to work, while I was lying aimlessly in my bed, or during the occasions when I was able to combat my social inertia and actually do anything, it grounded me, acting as a mental refresh of sorts. No matter what mental state I was in when I was listening to it, one thing always remained true: it went hard.
Abby Cheng – “Mango Tree” by Zac Brown Band feat. Sara Bareilles
A hot summer day’s best friend is a good country playlist. While that may be an unpopular opinion amongst many, I firmly believe that driving with your windows down when it’s 80 degrees out and not playing country music is a criminal act.
My summer consisted of leaving work and driving home with my windows down on the highway, blasting a country artist’s discography. It was this randomized shuffle of an artist that led me to hear “Mango Tree” by Zac Brown Band featuring Sara Bareilles. At first, I thought my Spotify had glitched, as this song immediately begins with a jazzy instrumental featuring blaring trumpets. Instantly, I was hooked on this song, and the lead singer, Zac Brown, had the country rasp paired with an upbeat melody. Then Sara Bareilles joins in, bringing a higher pitch to the song which would get anyone obsessed with this song if they weren’t already.
As someone who had never listened to jazz music before, this song was something different, unique and the perfect summer song. I restarted the song before it even finished to take it in again. Since starting college, summer feels more like an extension of school rather than a break. It gets filled with internships and resume-building events rather than hanging out with your friends at all times of the day. This song would help me unwind after a long day of work while also exciting me for plans that brought back the fun part of summer. Regardless of your love or hate for country music, this song will change your mind on country artists, so give it a listen on your next drive with the windows down.
Brooke Racine – “Back to Oz” by Sufjan Stevens and Angelo De Augustine
My summer was great, don’t get me wrong, but it had a hectic start. An unsuccessful search for a summer job — because apparently I need a Ph.D. to make a cup of coffee — my best friend moving to New York City for the summer, and a reconfiguration of hometown friendships left me in a mindset I had never experienced before. I was the type of kid who couldn’t wait to grow up; I would cry in a restaurant if given a kid’s cup. I was suddenly hit with the realization that this was my last summer of no obligations, the last summer of genuine freedom before a future of internships and grown-up jobs. This loss of childhood consumed my every thought.
“Back to Oz” was written by Sufjan Stevens and Angelo De Augustine after watching Return to Oz (1985). As the title implies, Dorothy returns to Oz but finds it in shambles. Stevens and Augustine use the movie as inspiration for a song about lost innocence and the fear of forgetting a former self — a self that’s protected from the mundane, humdrum and harsh reality of the world. The song reflects a desire to return to a time of childlike wonder and to experience that same joy that once seemed normal.
I find myself relating to Dorothy and her shock returning to a decaying world that once was tremendous. It seems as though childhood and its associated memories are slipping away, and it’s almost impossible to recapture that former essence. Though I reminisce on the past and wish that things stayed the way they were, time moves on, and I must as well.
Though the song deals with somber concepts, it also, in contrast, features a whimsical guitar and a relaxed and groovy instrumental that distracts from the heavy lyrical content. I threw this song onto so many collaborative and personal playlists, which I associate with a wide collection of amazing and beautiful memories I made this summer. Strengthened friendships, late-night drives alone and stupid, but ultimately worth it, decisions defined my summer. I can look back and yearn for the past, but I have a lifetime of memories to look forward to. I’m not fully over this infatuation with the past and the fear of growing up, but this summer has taught me to embrace what’s to come.
The future is unwritten, and that’s a good thing.
Ashmi Ranjan – “Murder of One” by Counting Crows
I graduated from high school this summer. The days just kept on coming until there were no more left. I worked with a dear friend at the art center in my hometown. We were counselors looking after spoiled children, some of whom became dear to me. The center is housed in what used to be a water purification plant surrounded by lush greenery. The sunlight poured through the huge classroom windows. I felt lucky to be there.
My friend and I supervised the kids during their recess. We laid on the impossibly green grass, talking about our dreams and fears. The kids would sit around us when they got tired of running around. They’d ask to braid my hair and sit in my lap. For some reason, I felt as though I had no future, but I felt a vast emotion for the children and what life held for them. When I remembered I would soon be leaving all this behind — these streets I memorized, the park where I fell in love for the first time — it became clear that my life is only beginning. I couldn’t help feeling like I wanted to reject the rest of my life and stay on the grass with my friend and these kids.
You may know Counting Crows best from being included on the Shrek 2 soundtrack, which is kind of perfect because Counting Crows is reminiscent of that cozy early 2000s nostalgia, like old Barnes & Noble and Zoup! Lead singer Adam Duritz’s voice is like your uncle telling you everything is going to be okay after your mom yells at you. But “Murder of One” specifically is so soulful and desperate for a long-gone past. When I drove home from work listening to this song, I always cried. Sometimes, I feel horrified at how I’ll never be 16 again. Duritz sings:
“All your life was a shame, shame, shame. /
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream”
Reading it on your computer the words might feel cold and mean, but when Adam sings it to me, I feel seen and held. I say, yes! Yes, my life feels like a shame and my love feels like a dream! But Adam assures me, “you don’t wanna waste your life” Oh, but it is a daunting task to turn all this nothingness into something.
At the end of art camp, we had a show. I got up on a ladder and hung up what we spent the whole summer creating. It was hard to see it all up like that, knowing they’d all leave and I’d never see them again. It was kind of magical, too. And when it was all over, I hung up my name tag and signed out for the last time. I walked past the grass we laid on all summer long, listening to “Murder of One.” I thought, how can anyone let go of anything? Surely, I can’t walk through my life with everything I hold precious on my back, knowing I’ll never have it again. At the end of “Murder of One,” Adam Duritz just sings the word “change” over and over again. In a way, he’s lamenting and grieving this painful thing we all must face, but he’s also telling us, begging us, to change. It’s the only way we get through this life.
TJ Peterson – “Houston” by Still Woozy
Still Woozy, over the years, has been with me through thick and thin. Without fail, his tracks always manage to be the highlight of one of my dramatic internal transformative periods. To put into further context how awkwardly obsessed I am, I can confidently say my favorite song in general — currently — is “Pool” (2022) by Still Woozy and Remi Wolf. I have listened to it countless times and in a complicated way, it means the world to me. So, I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when I heard Still Woozy was not only releasing a new album this summer, but going on tour! You couldn’t find someone more excited. I nearly singlehandedly crashed the ticket website.
Because this is meant to be personal, I will share that at the time, I was in a long-term relationship. I was also in the midst of my internship, researching weather and forecasting, which occupied a lot of my summer. Once the album was finally released, I would play Loveseat from the start almost religiously on my way home from research. I looked forward most to the upbeat tracks, such as “Again,” “Baby,” or “All Your Life.” But, my unlikely song of the summer, “Houston,” stood out from the album for its shift in tone.
I find it funny that not until recently did I really care much for the song, but weirdly, it stuck with me throughout the summer. I vividly remember one afternoon pondering over the song’s last verse:
“I’m always coming back /
To places that we sat / When we spoke of our future /
May not have ended up / How we dreamt it up /
But maybe that’s ok.”
In an eerie way, the verse felt like a precursor to something ahead, which to this day I find so odd since at that time everything was fine. Unfortunately, as I’m sure you can guess, summer started to wrap up, and things changed. Perhaps the future outlook granted to me by the verse was something I felt deeply, coming inevitably. Yet, when it happened, it was still a surprise. It’s unfortunate that just days before the breakup was the concert, which we attended together. Thankfully, at the time, I enjoyed it, but now it is a little hard to think back on. But like I said before, Still Woozy is with me through thick and thin.
I don’t need a lie tonight /
Might not be your fault /
But it’s not mine /
Maybe I’ll stop tryin’.
Today, I don’t find myself going back to this song; maybe it’s too soon. I do find it interesting how much the song parallels the emotion at the end of the relationship. So even if it wasn’t a song I had on repeat back then, when I do think of this last summer, I’m always drawn back to this oddly fate-filled melody.
Ryan Beylerian – “Do Nothing – Single Version” by The Specials
My summer vacation was soundtracked by two distinct sounds: The Beach Boys and ska. I had been introduced to ska music in the past through the outburst of popular ska tunes in the UK during the post-punk era, but I hadn’t immersed myself within the scene entirely; I had barely cut my teeth on the giant imprint that Jamaica had left on the musical world. The Beach Boys’ easy-going tunes would’ve been perfect to write about, but The Specials, a ska band originating from the UK in the late ‘70s, and their song, “Do Nothing,” takes the pedestal as my track of the summer.
“Do Nothing” has a particular sense of lethargy about it. A laid-back tempo floats along the bars with guitars springing out on upbeats in classic ska fashion. The drum groove is mostly kept to a light shuffle, aside from some energetic flourishes here and there. The groove of the track makes me want to simultaneously jump around in a half-time skank — an ‘80s ska dance staple — and laze about on the couch. I like the mix used for the single over the album release because it adds a soaring synth that fills in the emptier spots of the instrumentation, as well as a layer of melancholy to the overall upbeat tune. The synth pairs well with Jerry Dammers’ piano part, which weaves in between synth phrases. The piano poses questions to the other groups of instruments in the ensemble, which they respond to with an air of fluidity that suggests the player has performed these sorts of bluesy lines numerous times. It reminds me of some ragtime player riling up a crowd in a bar on a weekly basis. Halfway through the song, Rico Rodriguez is provided a verse-worth of bars for a soulful trombone solo, which rides behind the rest of the instrumentation, adding color here and there in a Harrison-esque manner.
Coinciding with the apathetic mood of the music, Lynval Golding’s lyrics express a discomfort in the passivity he finds himself and his community in. He communicates a tension in trying to find a purpose in our lives amid the stasis of indifference. The lyrics ring true for me, especially during a time like the dog days of summer, where thoughts of school or my future career are set on the back burner. I find myself in that same frame of mood, that nothing ever changes when I’m walking around aimlessly in my neighborhood during the middle of the day, or driving home from my job after the same weekly schedules. The song is cathartic in that sense and perfectly encapsulates the moods or thinking one might experience in the middle of an uneventful summer.
Noelle Simonelli – “Tokai” by Taeko Onuki
Thinking back on my summer, it felt nearly impossible to encapsulate it all in one song. I spent time with friends, went to concerts, worked and did online classes, but the most significant thing I did this summer was spend a month completely immersing myself in Japanese culture through study abroad. From the sweeping mountains and vast rice fields of the countryside to the bustling and electric cityscapes of Tokyo, Japan enthralled me and welcomed me to a whole new world of exploration and learning I couldn’t be more grateful to have experienced. So, I thought this song would be a lovely pick to highlight the bright and upbeat joy my summer was painted in.
Taeko Onuki was wildly successful in the Japanese ‘70s and ‘80s city pop scene. Blending the electric energy of Japanese city pop and the mellow jazz melodies, this song travels across Japan, finding a way to connect with each location we explored.
While in Japan, I focused my studies on music and the customs and traditions surrounding it in Japanese culture. I dove into the music that defines each region, whether it be the traditional drums and bowls played at Buddhist temples in southern Japan, or the fast-paced city pop enveloping busy cities such as Tokyo and Osaka.
Although there was an abundance of songs I considered for my selection, I landed on this one for the fond memories it will forever carry. My summer of 2024 will bring back memories of lush, mountainous landscapes, camping by the sea, cooking with Japanese students and running around Japanese cities and towns attempting to discover every special nook and cranny. I’ll always have fond and unforgettable memories from this summer — even if I never got my mixtape out to show it — and I’m excited to see what memories next summer brings to the table to challenge this one.
