70s Soothe
let's bring back macrame
I am one of those Yoga teachers who plays music during her classes. I do this because early on in my Yoga teaching career I learned that silence scares the shit out of a lot of people. My motto is “don’t stress out the Yoga teacher.” It logically follows to not stress out the Yoga students.
I am extremely proud of the playlists that I have curated on Spotify over the last 15 years. Most have evolved, simmered, and aged well, and some still occasionally come freshly baked out of the oven. One of my students likes James Taylor, so about a year ago I curated a few playlists made up of chill songs from the 70s. We need more James Taylor, Bread, John Denver, Cat Stevens, Jim Croce, and Crosby, Stills, and Nash singing over our shoulders right now. If things get much worse in the world, I am going to start streaming playlists based on The Carpenters.
Like many kids in the 70s who did not have an older sibling, I grew up listening to my parents’ records. Their Christmas albums were phenomenal. Along with a few classical records there was The Eagles, Cat Stevens, John Denver, Arlo Guthrie, Melanie (Safka), Neil Diamond, and Barry Manilow, which was definitely my mom’s. One summer when my dad drove us all out to California from Nebraska to see my Uncle Al and his family, he played an Arlo Guthrie 8-track tape in the car all the way there and back.
When I began buying my own music around the age of 11, I loved Donny Osmond, Shaun Cassidy, Cher, the Bee-Gees, Donna Summer, and those mixed pop rock albums you bought at Target. (What was that, Ronco?)
After playing a 70s playlist during a recent Vinyasa class, I asked my students what images or memories come up for them when hearing these old and mostly comforting songs from our childhood (The Gordon Lightfoot song The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald isn’t particularly soothing, nor are most of the Eagles mostly misogynistic lyrics, come to think of it).
One of my Yogis recounted that when hearing 70s music they think of being a kid checking out Jim Croce albums from the library. Remember when we could check out albums? Another of my students remembers sneaking into her older sister’s room to play a 45 of a certain song over and over again, hoping she wouldn’t get caught. When hearing a certain Bread song, I think of a macrame plant holder hanging from the ceiling, shag carpet underfoot, and filmy drapes blowing in the breeze from an open window. I am looking for that apartment. If you know where it currently exists, please let me know.
Spotify Playlist: 70s Songs to Soothe
Blessings & Love,
