As I listen to my Spotify playlist on shuffle, a familiar song begins to play: “Sparks” by Coldplay. The moment the mellow guitar begins to strum, I’m instantly brought back to a cold winter day at the end of January 2015. The temperature is about 30°F and although there is a light dusting of snow on the pavement of the roads, there’s not much ice. I’m sitting at a stoplight with this song playing through the speaker of my phone that stands in the cup holder when a car behind me abruptly rams into mine. Because of the thin layer of ice, my car slides into the vehicle in front of me, and it takes me a moment to process what is happening. My heart is racing and my body is shaking—this is my first accident and I’m terrified. Meanwhile, “Sparks” is still playing. Now, I cannot listen to the song without being brought to that exact moment.

All of the senses I experienced in those moments come back to me from the sound of that song. This is a common occurrence that can be connected to a flashbulb memory.

Flashbulb memories are defined as “a highly detailed, exceptionally vivid ‘snapshot’ of the moment and circumstances in which a piece of surprising and consequential (or emotionally arousing) news was heard.” I was listening to this song during a traumatic event, thus the song causes me to have a vivid recollection of the accident.

However, the power that songs hold in preserving the feelings and memories of a moment in time is not reserved only for traumatic or significant events. I have found that simply listening to a song a lot during any time in my life will result in that song being linked to that period, and listening to it months or years later brings me back.

For instance, they have the power of reminding me of bad times.

“Close To You” by Rihanna, “Where’s My Love” by Syml, and “Obstacles” by Syd Matters were three songs that I listened to on repeat in late April of this year. I was going through the hardest period of my life where absolutely nothing was going right. Every time I would tell myself it couldn’t get worse, the universe proved me wrong and showed me that things can get worse beyond your wildest imagination. These are good songs so I still listen to them, but I do so gritting my teeth and shuddering as the bad memories wash over me.

I sobbed listening to “Somebody Else” by The 1975 when I saw them live at Lollapalooza. It’s already a sad song by itself, but the experience of weeping uncontrollably on my best friend’s shoulder as I heard it live will be an experience I’ll never forget. I was in a terrible place emotionally at the time which definitely led me to break down during the song. It’s hard for me to listen to this song (especially after midnight) without crying a little bit.

Songs don’t bring only bad memories to me, though. They remind me of a lot of good memories as well.

“Let’s Be Birds” by Jacob Whitesides was being soundchecked when I walked into the venue that Fifth Harmony was playing at for their Reflection Tour. I had a wonderful experience at the concert and was able to reunite with so many friends that I had made through the fandom at that concert, as well as meeting the girls. For some reason, because that was being soundchecked the moment I entered the performance area, it’s the one song that makes me reminisce the most about the concert.

The summer after my sophomore year of high school, my high school orchestra flew to California. We spent half of a week in Los Angeles and the other half in San Francisco. On the bus in San Francisco, the driver played “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie. Listening to it now reminds me of the warmth present in California—warmth that took form not only in the climate but also the vibes of the city itself and its residents.

When I visited my best friend in California last November, she played all of Halsey’s “Badlands” album. The songs remind me of going to Disneyland, seeing Halsey in concert, and just driving around Los Angeles in general. I long for these memories the most when I listen to “Badlands.”

However, sometimes songs don’t have to be tied to any feelings. They don’t have to make me grin from ear to ear or clench my fist and hold in tears. Sometimes they are neutral and simply remind me of years past.

I have a folder of playlists on my Spotify called “High School Nostalgia.” In the folder are four playlists, each dedicated to a year of my high school experience. “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons will always bring me back to the start of my freshman year when I was a young, naïve freshman who was scared of everything. “American” by Lana Del Rey instantly throws me back to my sophomore year when I would listen to this song on repeat in the Spring. “Eyes Shut” by Years & Years is a staple of my junior year (which I consider to be my best year of high school academically, socially, and emotionally). And finally, “4u” by Blackbear brings me back to October of my senior year.

I love music. I always have. I love creating themed playlists. I love discovering new artists and genres, but I also love blasting the catchy pop tunes on the radio. Music has always been a huge part of my life, and the fact that songs have this incredible, surreal ability to bring me back to an exact time of my life adds an entirely new dimension to music listening.

So here’s to all of the songs that I can’t listen to without crying because of the bad experiences that I have accidentally linked to them. Here’s to all of the songs that remind me of my formative years, and here’s to all of the songs I listen to right now that will remind me of my freshman year of college in a year or two.

Here’s to music shaping my life every day.