It’s that time of year again: Song of the Summer time. Summer songs are big deals. And I’m not talking about the one (the ubiquitously driving-us-nuts-since-April pop ditty) that Billboard Magazine inevitably crowns “Song of the Summer” – I’m talking about our own personal song of the summer. The song which immediately transports you back to that particular summer in your life, including the sights, the smells, the friends, the heartbreaks—an entire cinematic-like memory montage—with just a click of a Songza shuffle.

If I were to create a playlist of summers past, this is what a snippet of mine would sound like.

1985 – “How Will I Know” (Whitney Houston) – Two years old. OK, so I don’t really remember this song when it debuted, and I also don’t remember that I attended Whitney’s concert at the Ex that summer (which sucks because, according to Mom and Dad, she was in full-out “arriving two hours late” diva mode), but this song stuck with me throughout my childhood. It has a danceable beat, Whitney’s pipes are flawless, and it was my first glimpse into what love actually feels like: sleepless nights wondering if the guy you love actually loves you back, taking every “Does He Like Me?” web quiz and reading every “21 Signs That He Likes You” article until you’re satisfied that he might kinda like like you back, causing your heart to soar to the clouds above.

1991 – “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” (Bryan Adams) – Eight years old. Kevin Costner’s handsome mug and messy, blond locks in “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves” stirred something new inside of me (E.L. James would most likely deem it my “inner goddess” awakening), and his butt shot in the flick definitely clinched it: never mind that he was older than my dad, I wanted Kevin Costner baaaad. This song brings back memories of ripping out Kevin Costner pics in People Magazine, pasting them on my bedroom walls, and reenacting his kissing scene with Maid Marion over and over again. Bryan Adams’ heart-wrenching ballad was also a staple at the pre-teen dances held at my local rec-centre, but pre-pubescent boys and their zits and scratchy voices were nothing in comparison to the godliness of Kevin Costner. Bring on the Electra complex!

1994 – “Mr. Jones” (Counting Crows) – Eleven years old. This was my first summer at camp, and my first summer completely on my own, away from my family. My camp counselors, Jory and Meg, pretty, tanned and adorned in tons of DIY bracelets, would blare this song almost every morning to wake up our cabin. Adam Duritz and crew were my first introduction into what “cool teens from Toronto” were listening to, a.k.a. people who were much cooler than me, a shy kid from the suburbs. Camp was the place where I transformed from wallflower to baller; I returned home from camp to the ‘burbs as this totally confident and independent young woman – the kind of girl that Beyoncé would love to sing songs about. So, whenever I hear this song, it always makes me want to get up and dance, and embrace the moment when I realized it’s OK to wave your freak flag high and be all, “I woke up like this” (even if I still don’t know who Mr. Jones is).

1999 – “Livin’ La Vida Loca” (Ricky Martin) – Sixteen years old. 1999 was an awesome summer for music (even BuzzFeed says so), but I chose this one because a) I danced to it with my school crush at prom and it made my night/life (for a few weeks anyway). And OK, maybe it was a group dance session, but we held hands and physical contact is what muscle memories are made from.

b) It reminds me of taking my mom’s Suzuki Sidekick for joy rides with my friends, the windows rolled down, the tunes blaring, ending up in random destinations like…Uxbridge. I also travelled to Paris that summer where I’d experienced grown-up formalities that I (mis)took as luxuries (grocery shopping, booze, a flexible bedtime), and it was also where I went to a Ricky Martin autograph session and nearly died, so I was flying high with the feeling that my emerging life, like the song (and Ricky), was colourful, loud and loca.

2003 – “Crazy in Love” (Beyoncé) – Twenty years old. Bey’s and Jay’s song dropped during my first-ever summer job as a grass cutter for my hometown. The summer of the Bunny Massacre, in which I killed (accidentally!) a family of unsuspecting bunnies with a weed wacker. The summer in which Brianne Almost Died From Consuming a Mickey of Canadian Club Within 30 Minutes. ‘Twas the summer of blood, barf and Beyoncé, and I never forgot it.

There are so many songs that sing “summer” to me, so I compiled a playlist of ‘em. Happy listening!