When I was (I think) 14, 'Jagged Little Pill' by Alanis Morissette was released. My friends and I were instantly obsessed with it. It, like, spoke directly to us. We were in love with Alanis and her silly lyrics and her long her and her leather trousers and her anger at boys.
Then we carried on getting a little bit older and Alanis' stopped making such good songs and we lost interest. Not only that, but the songs on 'Jagged Little Pill' - the ones we had loved so much - now seemed, well, embarrassing. They were so of the moment, encapsulated a brief time so perfectly, that they dated very quickly. We threw out our copies and were faintly ashamed to have been fans. We moved on and didn't want to look back at our past selves. So immature, so uncool.
Then, earlier this year, one of my girlfriends asked me when I last listened to 'Jagged Little Pill'. It's actually really good, she said. I didn't believe her.
Then we listened to the entire album together, sang along, found we still knew all the words and were filled with a peculiarly nostalgic sort of joy. We have repeated this several times since. The joy is still there every time, as are the songs.
I love it when things come full circle.
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