Life in 10 Tracks with Laura Saglio
Life in 10 Tracks is a feature series that is all about being injected into a moment in someone’s life through music. In it, passersby reminisce on the tracks that remind them of bad haircuts, breakups, and all of the joyful, poignant moments in between.
For Laura Saglio, a born and raised Parisian, music was always her first love. The lifelong relationship was kindled from a young age—in middle school, she covered Metallica with her band Redrum—but quickly sprawled over to other kinds of art. Later, she dabbled in touring as a traditional folk singer and acting in film and TV before landing a multifaceted career in fashion, editing magazines and managing stores for labels like Lemaire, Surface to Air, and Tom Greyhound. Beyond that, she’s run photo studios and is now at Musée Rodin.
Here, she recites the “ballsy” symphony of songs that take her back to poignant moments. As she tells it, “I grew up a tomboy. And I think my capacity to think like a man has played a little trick on me here. I could have chosen songs by Sade, Nina Simone, Björk, Breeders, The Knife, Maria Callas, Electrelane, and Laurie Anderson… all of these amazing women. But here you go.”
♫ listen to laura's playlist
As a little girl, I often felt blue. To soothe myself, I figured out how to use my mom’s record player and would lie on the carpet with my ear to the boomer, and the album sleeve spread open before my eyes. I managed to reach some meditative trance this way.
Oxygène by Jean-Michel Jarre is one of the first albums I recall listening to and looking at. I didn’t make out the image on the cover, I saw a bird, so I called it “l’oiseau.”
“Oxygène, Pt. 4” by Jean-Michel Jarre / Listen to the album Oxygène (Sony Music Entertainment Company Germany,1976)
I have three anecdotes linked to MJ’s Thriller.
When the video was released, I was five years old and in my mom’s bed with the flu. She had set the mini black and white tv for me to watch, and I remember being super scared, maybe even more so because of the fever. But I loved it, obviously. So she bought the album, and I would listen to it on loop, running to my bedroom every time the song ended to escape from Vincent Price’s terrifying laugh with my head under a pillow rather than stopping the record. When I finally overcame this fear, I brought the album to school for show and tell.
“Thriller” by Michael Jackson / Listen to the album Thriller (MJJ Productions Inc.,1982)
“Losing love is like a window in your heart. Everybody sees you’re blown apart, everybody sees the wind blow.”
This is exactly how I see it. A beautiful song about being heartbroken that is both melancholic and optimistic, just like me. Paul’s voice is masterful to me, and Paul is my musical father. Heck, Paul IS my father. Just like my other Paul, McCartney, his music is part of my DNA. From the cradle to the grave.
“Graceland” by the Paul Simon / Listen to the album Graceland (25th Anniversary Deluxe Edition) (Sony Music Entertainment, 1986)
My cousin Romain, who is older than me, was really into music. He played the guitar and had a band. I had a major crush on him. One summer in Bréhat, he gave me his copy of a James Taylor compilation CD. It was my first CD, and I listened the shit out of it.
Later in life, my boyfriend took me to see a film at an old cinema theater in Paris as a surprise for my 31st birthday. Running On Empty by Sidney Lumet. There’s a beautiful scene where the whole family dances to this song.
“Fire and Rain” by James Taylor / Listen to the album Sweet Baby James (2019 Remaster) (Rhino Entertainment Company,1970)
When we were teenagers, my best friend Deniz and I were obsessed with Metallica. Our favorite was their ex bass player, Cliff Burton, who had died in a bus accident while they were on tour in Sweden. He had super long hair, a sick headbanging game, very cool denim suits with bell bottoms, and a big Misfits fiend tattoo on his shoulder (which is how we discovered the Misfits <3). Deniz played the bass in our band Redrum, and we were in awe of this bass solo from their first album. I’m pretty sure we did a few ouija sessions to this track.
“(Anesthesia)--Pulling Teeth” by Metallica / Listen to the album Kill ‘Em All (Remastered) (Blackened Recordings,1983)
I was desperately in love with Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder all through middle school; it was exhausting. I also really liked Soundgarden (who I first saw open for Guns n’ Roses in Bois de Vincennes in 1992). So when I heard about a side project mixing both their bands called Temple of the Dog, I was mind blown. It also reminds me of all these afternoons after school spent eating croque-monsieurs in front of MTV. Some friends in high school did a cover of this song, and they needed me to sing all the intense high-pitched Chris Cornell vocals because they weren’t able to reach them. I hope they won’t mind me saying the result was probably very painful to hear.
“Hunger Strike” by Temple Of The Dog / Listen to the album Temple Of The Dog (A&M Records Inc.,1990)
Back when I hadn’t identified toxic masculinity and bad boys were a mysterious, exotic island I thought I’d never visit, I was fascinated by this French rapper, Booba. His edge, his brilliant—and ultra problematic—lyrics, and the fact he was half Senegalese (where I have family ties) made him incredibly attractive to me.
“Repose en paix” by Booba / Listen to the album Temps mort (Tallac Records, 2002)
This song by Deerhunter only brings back pleasant memories and is forever tied to a happy time in my life. It reminds me of turning 30, sharing perfect moments with my loved ones at concerts and sunny outdoor festivals, the birth of my son (“Nothing Ever Happened” was on the compilation we had prepared for that night), and singing the amazing, melodic ending at the top of our lungs with a lover during a car trip in the countryside surrounded by beautiful landscapes…
All this joy comes back to me at once as soon as the first bass chords are hit.
“Nothing Ever Happened” by Deerhunter / Listen to the album Microcastle (kranky, 2008)
When I asked Béla, my 12-year-old son, “Et si j’étais une chanson” (if I were a song, what song would I be?), he thought about “Good Song.”
When he was younger, I decided to show him some of my favorite music videos. Music videos were so important to me growing up, so I wanted to share that with him. Among the Radiohead, Nirvana, Björk, Pharcyde, and many more memorable ones, this Blur video, drawn by David Shrigley, comes to mind. It cracked him up, and it still cracks us up every time we watch it. He asks for it once in a while. If you haven’t seen it, please do, and stick around until the very end.
“Good Song” by Blur / Listen to the album Think Tank (Parlophone Records Ltd, 2003)
I used to love Brian Eno until this song took it to another level. It’s like a gateway to my adulthood and broader grown-up feelings. It’s like an acquired taste for emos. I’ve been listening to it on a super regular basis for eight years now (yes, I became an adult at 35) like it’s going to teach me something.
“The passage of time is flicking dimly up on the screen, I can’t see the lines I used to think I could read between”… Those lyrics, though. I know they hold a secret.
“Golden Hours” by Brian Eno/ Listen to the album Another Green World (Virgin Records Ltd,1975)
