While driving back from the city a few months ago, I scanned through radio stations as they floated in and out of range. I’m somewhat fickle when it comes to sticking with one channel, but something caught my attention: Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe.” I hadn’t heard the song in years, but to my surprise I still found myself singing along. It’s the sort of music I might normally overlook— pop music often feels too derivative to be considered a ‘serious’ art form by many— but I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for the FM radio of the early 2010s. 

I grew up with a constant soundtrack: whether it was through my mum’s iTunes tracks or my dad’s Beatles CDs, something was always playing. It wasn’t until I was seven, however, that I paid any mind to the radio. My family had just moved from coastal Australia to the suburbs of Washington, D.C., and I was struggling with the differences between my old life and my new one. The environment around me was totally foreign. My family, who had once lived within walking distance, was now only accessible over FaceTime. Even the natural world, that had been a constant source of mystery and delight in the tiny town I’d grown up in, seemed to have been consumed by the concrete and plastic of the suburbs. Everything was new, was different, was alien— or rather, made me feel like an alien, inside and out.

What surprised me, then, was the music I found all around me— it was different in an exciting way. Even on the night we drove home from the airport, I can vividly remember “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus playing over the radio, the lyrics mirroring my own feelings in that moment. Here was another person arriving at LAX, unsure of herself and her new surroundings, looking for understanding. Something about hearing that song made me feel like I was “gonna be okay” in this foreign country, just like Miley.

Throughout those first months of living in the United States, I continued to find more songs that made me feel a similar way. Often, the lyrics went over my head— particularly the double entendres too advanced for my age— but these songs taught me invaluable lessons about America. Concepts that were too difficult to explain to a first-grader— the drive for success, the fear of growing old, finding and losing love— were all condensed and disseminated into three-minute journeys with backing vocals and a catchy hook. 

As I grew up, I also stopped listening to the radio as much. Maybe it was the music that changed— less songs about parties and good times— or maybe it was me that changed, getting older and less naïve. I only started really listening to pop music again this summer after all but neglecting the genre since those first few months in America for more ‘serious’ music. Initially it was an urge born of nostalgia, as I remembered just how fun some of the music I enjoyed all those years ago was, but I realized there were some real gems in the music I’d been ignoring, particularly in a certain Canadian musician who I was reintroduced to that day in my car. Perhaps it was originally somewhat of an ironic venture, but I quickly listened through the rest of Ms. Jepsen’s discography, and to my surprise, it was great stuff. In my relatively unbiased opinion Emotion and Dedicated are some of the 2010s best pop albums— there’s something about the nostalgic aspect of Carly’s songwriting and pure-pop synths that remains constant throughout her music, but nevertheless makes for thoroughly enjoyable listening. It’s fun, it’s upbeat, and the lyrics are more than solid— what more could you want from a pop star? 

I kept listening to Carly Rae Jepsen all summer, somewhat to my own surprise. It was a full-circle moment, of sorts, coming back to the sort of music that I’d loved as a kid and now loved again. So of course, when Carly played in Houston last month, I made sure to be there. There’s a certain tradition with Carly Rae Jepsen shows— for whatever reason, she’s associated with swords, and concertgoers often bring inflatable swords to her shows. On the way to the concert, then, I took a quick detour to the nearest Spirit Halloween to pick up a discounted pirate sword, which I carried with me throughout the show, to equal parts excitement and embarrassment. 

The show was amazing, of course, and I was surprised by how much the people around me seemed to know and enjoy the songs being played. Perhaps they also found a nostalgic quality in her music, in the seemingly bygone era where pop songs were short ventures into a disco-drenched eighties-inspired fantasy land. Or maybe they just enjoyed good music. In either case, the concert was a blast, and my feelings about coming around on pop music were justified— especially when, in the encore (“Cut to the Feeling”), as Carly ran around the front of the audience, she hoisted my sword in the air, as confetti swirled in the background. A truly magical moment, and surely the highlight of my year. 

In a sense, then, I think we’d all benefit from a touch more pop in our lives, especially in revisiting the music we listened to back in that golden age of early 2010s pop— songs about having a good time and living life well, songs that don’t need to be heady or groundbreaking to be enjoyable, as long as it’s fun.

I for one recommend starting with the playlist below: