ANNE MARIE TO STEPHEN:

AM: What is your favorite song?

SB: Lemon Myrtle by The Jungle Giants. Don't know why, but I love songs with this type of sound. It's up tempo and still has a raw, not over-produced feeling that makes it feel like they were in a garage somewhere mixing their guts out.

AM: Have you heard any of these tracks before?

SB: All I Want by Kodaline is the only song/artist I've heard before. Outside of that, you got me.

AM: You're on the moon. Yes, you've finally arrived in life. Which of these songs do you play?

SB: Alright, there are so many possible choices for this. First, let's assume that SpaceX's Tesla roadster stopped by on its way to Mars and now I'm cruising around the moon's surface with the top down and the oxygen up. Based on lyrics/title alone, you might assume tracks like Never Be the Same or Oh My Dear Lord would be fitting.

Instead, I'm going to go with Don't Like Dancing because it would be the perfect jam to just dance on a planet all by yourself and imagine that someone on Earth would be looking through a really strong telescope and slowly scanning the surface only to eventually pan across me just grooving with nobody and nothing around me. I would kill to see the reaction on their face. This might be a new bucket list item for me.

STEPHEN TO ANNE MARIE:

SB: What is your favorite song?

AM: The correct answer is Static by Brasko. My friend Hilary and I often talk about how even when we're dating people, we're thrilled by the idea of dancing our faces off -- without any guys around -- at a divey club somewhere. There's something liberating about that experience. This track immediately takes me to that fantasy. Someplace that's sweaty and grungy. The kind of place where you shouldn't touch anyone but end up touching everyone because the groove is too high and you can't stop the beat from taking over. 

SB: Have you heard any of these tracks before?

AM: I've heard Alright by Mike Yung and I'm definitely into The Sh-Booms, but otherwise no. 

SB: If you were leaving the hospital after just delivering a child, which of these songs would you use to introduce your kid to Uncle Stevie's crazy taste in music? Why? 

AM: This is a tough one. My knee jerk reaction was Ansel Elgort's Thief because I can see 14-year-old you just taking that song so seriously. Speaking of which, I've been thinking a lot recently about how love - or the idea of the opposite sex - was such a dramatic thrill back then. Whether it happened or didn't happen, it felt like life and death. It felt taboo. Then you wake up one day and realize all of those experiences strung together over the years make up more of a comedy than a drama or a tragedy. HAH. I like being in the comedy now.

I'm going with Paralyzed by Hanni El Khatib -- because I'd want my imaginary kid to know you're a little bit funky and unpredictable. I'd use it as a teaching moment to tell them that one of your best qualities is your uncanny ability to able to take a really mundane or rough moment when someone is feeling low and turn it around with one push of a 'PLAY' button and a few minutes of letting yourself act nuts. I have quite a few memories from our youth where you did this and five minutes later the problem still existed but somehow it was a little bit smaller than it was before the dance break or drive break.