Luonut: roberto.c.alfredo huoneessa philosophy-corner
I hadn’t listened to ZZ Top since I was a kid, but the other day, out of sheer curiosity, I dove into their This Is ZZ Top playlist on Spotify. My mission? To find out whether the band’s hit songs—you know, those catchy tunes constantly playing on the radio in the ‘80s—are genuinely their best, or simply the ones I’ve learned to love.
As I listened, something immediately became clear: the hits still slapped. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting that. I thought I might discover hidden gems, deep cuts clearly superior to their radio singles. But, surprisingly, “Sharp Dressed Man” still dominated with its relentless groove. “La Grange” still had that magical ability to transport me back to carefree days, cruising in a hot car without air conditioning, enjoying a greasy burger under the summer sun.
This led me to a deeper question: Is a song “better” because it’s masterfully crafted, or because I’ve grown accustomed to hearing it associated with good memories? Am I objectively responding to the musical structure and artistry, or simply reacting to the memories and emotions woven into the song?
Things become even trickier when considering that popular songs might become hits precisely because of this positive familiarity. It’s like classical conditioning—we hear a song during happy moments, and our brain registers it as a masterpiece. But does this make the song objectively superior? Or does it simply confirm that our love for certain songs is an endless loop of nostalgia and emotional association?