Science Behind the Song By Rebecca Zhong All I Want by Joni Mitchell is the one that does it for me. I first heard it playing when I walked into the music room in intermediate school and was immediately taken back by how rich and painfully detailed each moment was. All I Want is the first track on her 1971 album Blue. And like many other songs, it treads the well-worn territory of what is often described as a ‘personal’ record. While the emotions and sentiments explored seem to be a universal experience, they are also imprisoned by surroundings known only to Mitchell. As a 13-year-old, I wanted to fill the ambiguity left by Mitchell herself and make the surplus of expression my very own. When I listen to that record now, I remember lying on the speckled carpet at my best friend’s house, playing balderdash and deciding what love felt like for the first time. I remember the tungsten lights that framed my high school bedroom and the smell of lemongrass candles burning as I rushed to finish last minute internals. I remember parking outside McDonald’s and talking to my friends for hours as my fries slowly grew cold. However, whenever I try to recall any of these memories under the absence of the song, I find it almost impossible to decipher the immediate memory itself, or the weight of the emotions that came with it. I don’t think I am entirely alone with this thought. The interconnectedness of music and memories is a universal experience. Without getting too technical, the part of the brain that is associated with memory is reliant on two areas, the hippocampus and the frontal cortex.