I Don’t Remember Your Name

I just had a long conversation with someone who didn’t remember he’d met me.

I’m not good with names, but I’m great with faces. I remember conversations. And it’s always so creepy, especially with girls…do I let on that we have history or do I just play…dumb.

Happens all the time. I run into an old schoolmate, someone I shared dinner with, and they’ve got no idea what transpired.

I used to explain the connection. But that never worked, it never brought us closer together. I told the story, they’d nod their head, and then we’d be further apart than before.

And after tonight’s encounter a song started to go through my brain, the Records’ “I Don’t Remember Your Name.”

There I was in the middle of a crowd
At a party I didn’t want to go to

This actually happened. In the heart of the San Fernando Valley. It was the night I met my ex-wife. We’d been at a party at the house of Martha Davis of the Motels, and we stopped by at this other party to see our friend Jeff who never arrived. And when I whipped up all my gumption to speak with a woman who instantly rejected me, the Searchers’ version of “Hearts In Her Eyes” played on the stereo.

The Searchers never could come back. Even though the album got a good review.

But the original, on the Records’ “Crashes”…I played that incessantly in the interim between breaking up with my law school girlfriend and cohabiting with the woman who ultimately became my wife.

This was a different era. There was no YouTube, you had to buy it to hear it. And when I found the well-reviewed “Crashes” in the promo bin of my favorite store in Westwood, I bought it, and fell in love with it.

“Hearts In Her Eyes” was the opener. But the follow-up, “Girl In Golden Disc” was better.

Save your heart
All for the girl in the golden disc

That’s what all we music nerds have in common, unrequited love. We see a girl and we become fixated. It happens just that fast. They become ours. And they don’t even know it.

And then there was “Hearts Will Be Broken”:

I’m in no doubt
From your plans I’ve been excluded

Does this still happen anymore? In this hyper-connected world where every kid in the class is invited to the birthday party? Some of us are born to be included, others fear being left out. Gets to the point where we believe we’re behind a glass wall, wherein we can see them but they can’t see us, we’re observers, we just can’t participate. And no one seems to know but us.

I don’t remember your name
I think it’s best that I level with you
I don’t remember your name
I know the face, won’t you give me a clue
I don’t remember your name
And I’ll opine you don’t remember mine

But we never say this. We just fumble along.

And songs play in our head. Especially ones that radiate intelligence, that only we seem to know.

And we wander the universe looking for people to get the references. And when we find them, they become our best friends. At least it was this way back before everybody was a winner, when records were not merely hits or stiffs, when music was more about sitting alone in your home dreaming as opposed to bumping butts in the club.

Spotify playlist

P.S. You should play these tracks. You’re going to be stunned by the thin vocals. But if you give them a shot, the lyrics and the changes will enrapture you.

P.P.S. The Records actually had a hit. Entitled “Starry Eyes.” A breezy composition that ran up the chart in the pub rock/power pop era of 1978 England.

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