The first car I was ever in was a 1999 dark green Jeep Cherokee. Like any car in 2006, there was no Aux, only a CD player.

Therefore, my parents had an extensive CD collection with the Beastie Boys, Janis Joplin and several other guest appearances. But the most memorable CDs were the most obscure; put them all together, and they make the craziest yet uniquely childlike playlist known to man. 

As winter break ends and returning to college provides excitement and chaos, I wanted to look back at four of these absurdities and re-evaluate their legacy. 

The Blues Brothers Soundtrack

The Blues Brothers was a 1980 musical movie that featured two fictional brothers, Jake and Elwood Blues, played by John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, as they fall victim to various maladies while trying to save an orphanage. The film features performances with stars like Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles and James Brown, solidifying this movie as musically iconic. 

The Blues Brothers characters were developed by Belushi and Aykroyd, and the pair used these personas in iconic SNL skits and comedy shows. The Blues Brothers later expanded into an SNL-independent band. 

It was only recently that I found out that The Blues Brothers were not real people, and instead were two comedians singing ridiculously on stage, pretending to be jazz gangsters. 

By the time I was four, I could sing this entire soundtrack. Thank God my childhood memories have lasted to this day because I would never want to forget any of these songs. My favorites were “Theme from Rawhide,” a song about a cattle rancher, and “Think,” featuring the undisputed G.O.A.T., Aretha Franklin. 

When I visited home over Thanksgiving break, my Dad wouldn’t let my sister and I use the aux. I offered, as any amateur singer would, to acapella something. I picked a familial classic, “Minnie the Moocher,” by The Blues Brothers. As each of us added our own components, we were united in a way only a nostalgic song can bring. 

If you’re looking for an album that’s technically sound, has Blues influence (duh) and makes you want to tap your foot, play this one.  

The Curious George Film Soundtrack, Jack Johnson

It’s safe to say they don’t make albums like this anymore, sparing Coco and Encanto. It feels more nuanced than the kids’ movie soundtracks we hear today. The Curious George Film Soundtrack talks about childhood crushes, city living and existential questions with such depth that it feels like it’s not a kids’ album at all.

Because of the larger childlike appeal of this album, songs like “Wrong Turn” and “Upside Down” reminds me of jumping in puddles in ill-fitting cotton leggings and bright rain boots. It’s the happy nostalgia – one that ignores the physical fighting and annoying bickering my sister and I mastered by five and seven respectively. 

At this soundtrack’s most basic level, it’s objectively happy music capable of stirring joy and childlike wonder. At its most complex, it’s a beautiful dive into what it means to grow up.

Raising Hell, Run-DMC

This 1986 album was purchased by my father when he was an underclassman at Michigan State University. This specific CD was bought because my Dad already had a Run-DMC collection, and Raising Hell was the latest album release. His allegiance to the band started after hearing “Hard Times” on WJLB, his hometown radio station. Even then, my dad believed that Run-DMC was a staple in music history.

Raising Hell’s addition to our car’s lineup may feel odd to some. Why introduce explicit songs and topics to toddlers? But for my dad, and I completely agree, this was an opportunity for exposure to what he said were “the roots of hip hop.”

For me, it was an instant classic. Run-DMC’s flow is crisp, with simple yet intriguing backing tracks. A personal favorite of mine, then and now, is “Walk This Way” featuring Aerosmith. I love the guitar riff that starts this four-minute perfection.

It feels like all of the CDs in my parents’ car weaved through my childhood, and are as monumental to me as learning how to read. I remember the covers of each from my four-year-old perspective, with the unfocused, hazy filter memory put on things. I was babbling all the songs in these albums before I learned how to talk. 

Swamp Ophelia, Indigo Girls

When my senior year of high school was winding down and I knew my looming freshman year of college was a finality, I would go on coffee runs with my mom. It would be late at night, and something urged me to leave the aux cord in the glove box. Instead, my mom played this CD. 

She told me stories about the singers, Amy Ray and Emily Saliers, and how one allegedly taught the other to harmonize. Their ballads in this 1994 release are simple in production, but not in quality. The pair found a way to mimic my mother and me, or the other way around – two women stuck for better or worse in a moment, enjoying it nonetheless. 

Upon re-listening, the only way to describe Swamp Ophelia is kooky. Its strumming guitar, unique melodies and beautiful lyrics make you lean in and ask for more. Listening to songs like “Least Complicated” and “Fugitive” makes you feel like you’re spinning around in a flowy skirt, without a care in the world.

My first semester of college has been nothing short of insane, and as I go home for winter break, I’m sure the craziness will only spiral. But it’s nice to know that the basics, rapping Run-DMC with my family, listening to Jack Johnson while reading, going on a walk with the Indigo Girls and belting The Blues Brothers will never change. Sure, change is coming. But the foundations of my life, good music, good family and holidays, remain a calming constant. 

Edited by Ava McCluer | amccluer@themaneater.com 

Copy edited by Natalie Kientzy | nkientzy@themaneater.com

Edited by Emily Skidmore | eskidmore@themaneater.com