Courtesy of New York Times.

When I first picked current events as the theme of my column it seemed rather simple. Just talk about what‰’s happening right now. But sometimes that isn‰’t so easy. Sometimes really horrible, dark, morbid, things are happening right now. Things you don‰’t want to be happening. Things that you don‰’t want to be current.

What‰’s ‰current‰’ for me is the sudden death of my best friend‰’s father. I‰’m not one to name drop but I can assure you this is not the only article written about him. It is more likely the 500^th. In fact, there was one above the fold of the front page of the New York Times last Friday. So if you are the kind of person that is interested in names, you wouldn‰’t have to look too far.

In an ironic twist, “The Current” doubles as the name of Minneapolis Public Radio, which serves the town where my best friend‰’s family is from.

While there‰’s a lot of ways this amazing man is memorialized (his best-selling book, his Monday column, the documentary he starred in, his beautiful daughters and wife). My favorite tribute is seemingly far less impressive, a Spotify playlist of his favorite songs. A mix between Beck (who my best friend and I actually have a vendetta against since he‰’s taking over the world), Dixie Chicks (my dad loves them too), Wilco (my best friend and her dad have seen them multiple times), and Tegan and Sara (who expressed their condolences for him on twitter). His musical friends, Ike Reilly and Amy Cook, are also included. These tracks emanated from his beloved Jambox at his wake and the lunch after his funeral.

At the wake, one of his many, many friends, spoke of his last memory with him. It was a kitchen serenade, choreography included, to ‰The Ghost in You‰’ by The Psychedelic Furs (acoustic Robyn Hitchcock version). That‰’s a memory that he‰’ll cherish forever. He‰’ll be able to listen to that song and never forget.

‰Always Love‰’ by Nada Surf has been on my repeat, both on my phone and in my head, for the past week. Both because I can so clearly picture him jamming hardcore to this in the car, head bopping strong even though he was troubled by his neck, and that the song just has an appropriate. “Always love, hate will get you every time.‰” It seems so obvious, but it is easy to forget. It‰’s easy to get angry, especially about death, but you’ve got to try to love and that’s just what he would‰’ve wanted.

The music someone listens to speaks volumes (pun not intended) about them. This leads me to question what it means that my best friend‰’s father once woke us up at his cabin in the Adirondacks with the strident rap of Eminem blaring through the walls.

Hearing a song you‰’ve heard before, no matter how many years later, always brings something back. It may not be an event you felt had significance, but that moment will stick with you, even haunt you. In the same vein, my roommate and I sang ‰Fifty Nifty United States‰’ from heart last night though we hadn‰’t sang it since 5^th grade – lyrics just stick with you.

I didn‰’t realize he had a sweet spot for Bright Eyes. When the weather was the antithesis of January 12, my best friend and I would drive around our suburban life, collecting cigarette butts, to Conor Oberst‰’s vocals. We would also do this to Chance the Rapper, but that didn‰’t have the same effect. Both David and Conor had had gruesome battles with alcohol. (Bright Eyes lyrics: “I found a liquid cure to these land-locked blues‰” and “I’ve got a flask inside my pocket we can share it on the train. If you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same‰Û). I hadn‰’t put together the significance of these lyrics to his life. But now I‰’ll adore those songs all the more.

When someone leaves, you want to hold on to them in whatever way you can. Any piece of them you can grab onto and never let go of. For me, and countless others, music is the best, and honestly easiest, way to do this. All you have to do is hit play, and the memories will play too. (I realize that was incredibly cheesy but a little cheese tastes good sometimes).