Trivial Pursuits: Don't touch that dial

Music is magic. 

Scanning FM radio in my car and landing on some 70s soft rock gem can take me from quiet mulling to high-volume singalong in seconds. 

I don’t know if I know more song lyrics than the average listener or that I’m just more likely to sing along, but a ride with me tends to involve bouncing between oldies stations until I find a tune I love, at which point I accompany Franki Valli, Paul McCartney, Carole King, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye – often to the dismay of my passengers, but hear me out. (How do you hear “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” and not sing along?)

The radio delivers delightful surprises. When my boyfriend, Bryan, and I are bored – or not – we pull out our laptops or smartphones and play deejay.

While deejay isn’t technically a game, having neither winner nor loser, it feels like one in that there’s a sense of pride in pulling the right song out of your pocket at the right moment (for me, anyway; Bryan’s less competitive).

Players pick a theme for each session: one-hit wonders, songs with a girl’s name in the title, songs with a mode of transportation in the title, TV show theme songs.

You then take turns playing songs that meet that theme, typically keeping a mental list (my boyfriend) or scratch pad (me) of what’s on deck but, like listening to the radio, a lot of what you hear is a surprise, and pulling an obscure one out of your pocket earns bonus points in this scoreless activity. (Obviously you can’t do a color-themed song session without someone playing “Paint It Black” or “Brown-Eyed Girl”). 

Your on-deck playlist is always evolving, too, because you’re feeding off each other’s momentum, or that of the song last played. While it may sound like a stretch, there’s an art to not only coming up with a playlist, but also ordering it. If the last song played is the high-energy “C’mon, Eileen,” for instance, juxtaposing it with a ballad or switching genres can make for more interesting deejaying. Like listening to the radio, surprises are key, and the only rule is that the song meets the theme. Of course creativity is always welcome; If you know “Last Train to Clarksville” is a must-play for songs with a mode of transportation in the title, albeit obvious, throwing in “These Boots Were Made for Walking” is considered creative deejaying. “Tiptoe through the Tulips” by Tiny Tim would get you bonus points.

The best moments are hearing a fantastic song for the first time – one you love enough to download and incorporate into your own MP3 collection (for times when the radio is not up to snuff). With his immeasurably deep pockets of music knowledge, my boyfriend has pulled out several that have stuck with me (10CC’s “Dreadlock Holiday” comes to mind). However, no matter how hard I try, the only song I’ve introduced him to during deejay is “Pink Cadillac.” (Who doesn’t know “Pink Cadillac”?) 

Deejay satisfies my need for trivia and nostalgia. I have a tendency to glom onto torch songs and get made fun of for my commitment to them, as well as cheesy, catchy tunes from my childhood (a la “Islands in the Stream”). Despite his refusal or inability to dance, Bryan remains loyal to disco and dance hall. So at least one of us jams. And inerrably, one of us ends with “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” whether it fits the theme or not. It’s just one of those songs you need to hear every so often. 

It’s been a while since our last deejay session – we used to do it while puzzling, but putting together a 1,000-piecer on the floor is difficult with a beagle puppy sneaking up on you and stealing, then devouring, key puzzle pieces. But as soon as Bryan finishes building our floor-side puzzle table with the super high sides, I’m pulling out the MacBook.  

“Guilty Pleasures” was a good session, perhaps deserving of a part two. Then I’ll have an excuse to play some Stephen Bishop and Air Supply – not that one ever needs an excuse to play Air Supply.