Earworm

Published on 06/10/2024.

I have written a playlist about my Father. I have written a playlist about my Mother. I have even written a playlist about my Sister. With my family-inspired musical suggestions out of the way, I can think only of one other important person in my life that deserves the playlist treatment: my lovely girlfriend, Julija.

There are quite a few different songs I could have chosen for this article. Having, however, been threatened with the end of our relationship for any inclusion of Vaidas Baumila’s Kunigunda – God knows why when it is a brilliant song! – I have decided to go with a safer approach to this list. Safety or not, I feel my choices perfectly encapsulate my memories with my darling Julija.

Suggested Music Listening

Maggie M’Gill – The Doors

I dare say that I had only heard of The Doors by name prior to meeting my wonderful belle. Julija was the one that made me listen to the Californian outfit, and after a slow start with them, I became quite fond of Jim Morrison et al.

The first song that really got me on The Doors’ bandwagon, arguably one of my favourites, was Love Me Two Times. For memories of Julija, however, I had to go with Maggie M’Gill, if only for the fact that you can often catch the two of us singing it around our apartment. It is a jumping little bluesy number from The Doors’ 1970 album Morrison Hotel, and it does well to showcase the frontman’s gruff vocals and Robby Krieger’s ability to turn the simple into the sublime on guitar.

Maggie M’Gill is also a special memory for us because we visited Cimetière du Père-Lachaise in Paris in June of this year and saw Jim Morrison’s grave. I will be bold enough to say that the lack of grandeur of his final resting place seemed ill befitting of such a larger-than-life character that contributed so many great works with The Doors. My biggest take-away, however, was a feeling of personal embarrassment: I had rendered myself blind with trying to rub the rain from my glasses, and in the process, I tripped on one of Jim’s neighbours. It is funny how much a single loud word can reverberate in a solemn place. I just wish the horrified ears of gathered fans and mourners had not have heard me yell ‘shit!’ as I was falling.

I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself – The White Stripes

I like The White Stripes, but I would say that most songs on their albums sound like filler to me. I would even go as far as to say that Seven Nation Army was the only song I truly knew and liked before Julija set me straight.

This song became a meme in my relationship with my beautiful girlfriend due to a throw-away joke she made. I was prodigiously bored one day and uttered ‘I really don’t know what to do’ for her to respond in song ‘with myself’ and pat her legs in time with the guitar that follows this line in the song. She exclaimed in disbelief when she saw my expressionless face, realising I had no idea what she was referencing. About five minutes later, I was up to speed.

I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself is not exactly a complicated song, but what it does, it does well. It is a slow, chirpy number that builds to a tempestuous chorus in true alternative rock style. I may not be looking to buy tickets to see The White Stripes any time soon, but I am quite pleased to have this gem in my music collection.

Penguins – Babyshambles

Saturday night turned into, to Sunday morning
Just like it’s supposed to.
Everybody’s gone, it’s just me and you.
You can do what you like, go to the zoo.

We could see monkeys, we could see snakes,
We could see penguins – penguins are great.

I knew about Penguins since the album from which it hails, Sequel to the Prequel was first released in 2013. Despite for years enjoying screaming the bridge of ‘I really don’t like your boyfriend’s face/So I am going to try to take his place’ with thoughts of previous unrequited lovers of mine in my head, this song did not draw any proper meaning for me till I played it for Julija.

The first reason it is special for us is that our mutual nickname for each other is Penguin or Pingvinas/ė in Lithuanian. This trend in our relationship started because they are my favourite kind of animal and I find it adorable that they mate for life, bringing each other little pebbles as gifts. They also poo on average every 27 minutes, as I learned at Kelly Tarlton’s Aquarium in Auckland, but that fun fact is unrelated to the nickname.

Penguins is also special to us because it harks back, again, to our trip to Paris this year. We were both getting ready at the hotel to go to the zoo, dreaming of scarfing croque monsieurs for breakfast on the way, when she stopped for a second, looked at me quizzically, and asked why there were no songs about the majestic black and white creatures. She was pleasantly surprised to find there was, but I was more so intrigued to find we were in the rare situation where the lyrics to the song were poignant. Since that day, she has often asked me to remind her by whom Penguins is, so she can spend three or four minutes reminiscing about our day trip.

Žilvitis – Antikvariniai Kašpirovskio Dantys

Žilvitis is a belter of a song from a polka, punkish, mariachi-esque band with a name longer than time – a name for which I still have to take a few moments pause before trying to pronounce it. (The name roughly translates to ‘antique teeth of Kashpirovsky’.) Julija being a fiercely proud lass from Lietuva, it seemed only fitting that there be a few Lithuanian songs on this list. Žilvitis comes from the band’s 2017 album Problematika, which is a whirlwind of a listen for those interested in discovering non-English-speaking music.

The song holds a special place in my heart because it reminds me of the first time that my Penguin and I visited Vilnius together. We spent a magical, albeit near-freezing February day looking around Vilniaus Katedros Varpinė and Gedimino Pilies Bokštas, which culminated in a short walk by the river, not a million miles from where the music video for Žilvitis was shot. Julija played the song for me for context and explained the background. Now every time I hear this song, it whisks me back to our travels in 2022 and all of the wonders I saw in Lithuania.

Trys Millijonai – Marijonas Mikutavičius

Galbūt per daug ir per ilgai mes kariavom...

The country of Lithuania has its official national anthem; Trys Millijonai is the unofficial one. The song is about their population of three million facing highs and lows in sport, striving to be champions. It is essentially the equivalent of Three Lions or Swing Low, Sweet Chariot for the Baltic state’s basketball religion. In fact, I propounded what I term the ‘Trys Millijonai hypothesis’ – one I have tested to much success so far – whereby you can sing the word Galbūt in just the right way and cause every Lithuanian in a 25-yard radius to burst into a roaring rendition of this song.

Of course I learned all about this from my darling Julija, and I witnessed all of the passion behind the song and the sport with which it is most associated when we visited her native land. It is an incredible country, and I think hearing Lithuanians sing Trys Millijonai gives you that impression. You hear the passion, the hope, and the dogged determination that go along with this anthem, transforming the simple yet powerful words of this Mikutavičius epic into a cultural phenomenon of the best kind.

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About the Author

Lewis Brown

Lewis is the founder and Editor-in-Chief of Earworm. His deep passion for music is what inspired him to create Earworm as a music magazine for lovers of all genres.

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