It’s funny how a song can take you somewhere faster than any car ever could.

One minute you’re driving down the road in 2026, and the next minute you’re 10 years old again, sitting in the backseat of your parents’ car. Or you’re back on a school bus, headed to a softball game out of town, with a CD player skipping every time the bus hits a pothole.

Music has a way of bookmarking our lives.

Lately, my husband and I have been listening to a lot of ‘90s country music — the kind of country that filled the radio when we were growing up: songs with steel guitars, real storytelling, and voices that felt familiar the moment they started singing.

Artists like Alan Jackson, George Strait, Brooks & Dunn and Randy Travis created songs that didn’t just play in the background. They painted pictures. They told stories about small towns, hard work, family, heartbreak and home.

Somehow, those songs still feel just as good today.

Recently we’ve also been listening to Zach Top, and I love that his music feels like a time machine. His sound brings back those same ‘90s country vibes — the kind of music that reminds you of riding along with your arm out the open car window, or sitting in your friend’s bedroom with the radio on while you do your nails or practice makeup in the mirror.

While country music holds a big place in my heart, there are so many other genres that bring back a flood of memories.

Like a lot of people who grew up in the early 2000s, I also have a soft spot for the hip hop and rap songs released during my high school years. They instantly transport me back to days after school, riding around with friends, or warming up before softball practice with someone’s playlist blasting nearby.

They remind me of dancing at middle school dances and, later, high school prom.

Play any song by The Eagles, and I’m immediately transported to my childhood home, or my dad’s truck, singing along to their classics.

Play Hank Williams Sr., and I’m instantly 8-ish years old, dancing in the living room at my Granny and Papa’s with Papa while the old cassette plays, or riding in the truck with my Aunt Jennie to visit Papa’s grave after he died. We always played those songs as a tribute to him.

If you play “Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple, I’m going to have to choke back a ball of tears. You might catch me singing along, but you’ll probably see me tearing up. That song was played often during poker games with my Aunt Jennie and Uncle Charlie and family friends, and, later, my husband. Charlie always liked that song, and it reminds me so much of those poker games and how much I miss him.

Play Nickelback or Linkin Park, and I’m immediately thinking of the high school boyfriend who introduced me to Nickelback. Then I’m remembering riding in Jodi’s Blazer on dirt roads on the weekend, singing at the top of our lungs, just cruising and singing.

NSYNC and Backstreet Boys bring a flashback to my bedroom as a kid, my sister, Abbie, singing along with me to their best songs. I even had a VHS of NSYNC, and we learned some of the dances.

That’s what’s funny about music. It doesn’t just remind you of the song itself — it reminds you of the people who were there when you heard it.

You remember the car rides. The teammates. The friends you spent every day with. The places you went without realizing those moments would someday become memories.

Sometimes it’s the smallest things that bring it all rushing back: a drum beat, a guitar intro, even just the first few words of a chorus. Suddenly you’re not just hearing the music — you’re remembering a version of yourself from that time.

Maybe that’s why so many of us keep going back to the songs we grew up with. In a world that moves faster every year, music is one of the few things that can slow us down long enough to revisit where we’ve been.

When you hear a song you loved as a kid, it reminds you of who you were before life got complicated — before responsibilities, before schedules and deadlines, back when a Friday night might mean riding around town with friends, a radio turned up too loud, with nowhere particular to go.

Those songs stick with us because they were there during the moments that shaped us, when we were figuring out who we were going to be. They played through first heartbreaks, big wins, late-night talks, and the everyday moments we didn’t realize we’d miss one day.

That’s the real power of music. It connects the past and the present in a way nothing else really can.

You might hear a song you haven’t thought about in years, and suddenly you’re remembering exactly where you were when you first heard it — who you were with, and what life looked like back then. For just a few minutes, it’s like stepping back into that moment again.

And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.

So lately, when my husband and I turn on those ‘90s country playlists or discover a new artist who sounds like the ones we grew up listening to, it feels a little like rediscovering an old photo album.

The songs are familiar. The memories are still there. And for a little while, we get to revisit the places and moments that helped make us who we are today.

The soundtrack may be different for everyone, but the feeling is the same.

Music takes us back. And sometimes, that’s the best trip we can take.