For me late August is a time of transition. A suburban summer comes to a close with a farewell to friends and a warehouse of memories to forever cherish. Months of parties, late night talks reminiscing about high school, hours of nothing to do are over and the time has come to move away from the community that served as a bittersweet stomping ground for innumerable adolescent antics.

A final moment comes to enjoy the last warm, humid breezes of the fading season before returning to campus: Another night at the smoke-filled Friendly's, one more look at the stars under the cool midnight blue sky, a last conversation about the inane worries of post-adolescent life. Although a fresh new batch of faces, soon-to-be explored relationships and an invaluable education-in and outside class, of course-await, I can't help but long for the summer to go on just a little bit longer. To have a simple but impossible extension of time to keep the smiles in sight, the conflicts tangible and the bonds within reach would be great. Yet from our closed community to bustling college cities we must go. The time to move on is here.

The inevitable physical separation does not mean an end must come to the emotions and inside jokes we share. If these moments crumbled into oblivion, my self-definition would fall alongside. Fortunately there is an inescapable medium in American culture, which I hold particularly dear, that helps serve as a carrier of memories-popular music. Yes, pop music. Top 40, Billboard, Kasey Kasem, whatever you'd like to call it. Music spilling out of apartment windows, pumped up bass beats from cars cruising around, dance tunes plaguing the club scene. Popular music is a universal language for everyone from early adolescents to the middle-aged to enjoy.

In an instant, a pop tune can jump-start the retrieval of a mental picture or reenergize a certain feeling clamped to an unforgettable experience. Just as memories of childhood may come flooding back with the sound of The Cure, Jesus Jones, early R.E.M. or LL Cool J, the most extraordinary times spent with my friends are immortalized through summer of 1997 songs, which seemingly characterize every moment of elation, melancholy and inebriation we experienced.

Let me share some of these with you and the same songs may also have a certain significance for you.

"When I was young and knew everything..."

Yes, you guessed right! How could anyone escape this opening lyric from the Verve Pipe's overplayed "The Freshmen"? This is not to say I'm complaining-the infectious, melancholic ballad will always be welcome wherever I go. It speaks of the naivete that saturated every waking moment of my summer vacation and holds within its simple, emotional guitar lines flash frames of countless good times I had with friends.

At first, however, I wasn't so appreciative of this fine tune. Returning home late last May, I knew my dormancy from pop radio at school would make me Top 40 illiterate. The first song I heard, one which would eventually become such a dominant force in my summer music catalog, was "The Freshmen." Initially I resisted any peer persuasion, dismissing the sappy song as uncharacteristic of this rock band's previous repertoire. Thankfully the walls soon came crashing down when I actually absorbed the lyrics and let the beautifully moody music seep in.

On the radio, the song has been inescapable these past few months for several reasons. Most importantly, every second is infused with an essential pop musicianship that rightfully brought the tune right into Billboard's Top 10. With lyrics that tell of youthful tragedy and tug at the heart strings but aren't overbearing, the song is instantly identifiable within American teenage culture.

Along with an interesting if not mystifying tale, "The Freshmen" succeeds musically. The charged bass precisely complements the guitar with a brightness in each note that at once reinforces and rebukes the lyrical subject matter. Paralleling this double-edged musical sword, the song can identify both with sad moments (saying goodbye) and happier instances, such as journeys out on the open road with a crisp breeze cutting across your face and the somber song ambling along on the radio.

My experience with "The Freshmen" has gone from denial to excitement-the latter manifesting itself when the first few plucks of that familiar guitar line come marching out of some nearby speakers.

Falling Into the Pop Stereotype

Summer 1997 was witness to a few undeniable and unforgivable overproduced pop groups. Can you say Hanson and the Spice Girls? I hope so, because if these names aren't permanently placed within your internal musical file cabinet you've missed out on a few essential ditties that earned deserved spots on the pre-millennium pop rock landscape.

And before you go trailing off to the next section of the article to obey some sort of personal musical standard that keeps you from reading about these captivating groups, please patronize me for a few seconds. A new-found respect for these songs may be in your future.

Like some of you reading this article, I was an ardent disliker of the Spice Girls from the first mention of them coming out of the English press. The problem began for me, like most people, before any benefit of the doubt or exploration into their songs. Most people who deny the Spice Girls' social and musical presence have allowed the overwhelming candy-coated energy of the chipper female quintet go underappreciated for all the wrong reasons. The names, personalities, voices, Girl Power motto-they are all packaged, glossed and ready for consumption. Any objection to the perfectly prepared merchandise is absurd. Looking beyond the bright colors and flashy presentation will uncover the Spice Girls as a corporate fantasy turned real. Feel free to chuckle. Proceed to spin "Wannabe" or "2 Become 1" a couple of times on the CD player for relief. Remember to leave a few minutes open for "Say You'll Be There." Turning on the radio will probably work, too.