I'm terrible at letting my guard down, and showing people that I'm not always the cheery, giggly person I appear to be. By sharing these songs, I'm leaping out of my comfort zone to share one of the deepest, innermost aspects of my being. These selections encompass who I am and get me stuck in my emotions in a way that almost nothing else can. They have a level of artistry and vulnerability that I have found unmatched by any other. That is why they must be shared.
1. "The Scientist" by Coldplay
This track is... heavy. The song opens with intense, pounding chords on piano that imitate the density of the song, its message, and its mood. Then the lyrics begin. "Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard..." seizes the heart and, through the lyrics and the music behind them, summarizes what a person feels when they're going through something: that is is hard. It's impossibly burdensome. That you knew life wouldn't be easy, but you didn't expect it to hold such gravity, either.
The song culminates with substantial, dark electric guitar chords. They constantly reinforce the mood. As the song starts to die, haunting "oohs" fade out. It's like a final shrug- something that was too uncertain for words, so it didn't try to be. You don't know where you're at, and you don't know where you're going, and you don't know when it'll be okay again.
Songs can bring a lot of emotion by sheerly listening to them, but they bring that much more depth and feeling when they interact with the world. Your world. This song always hit a chord for me, but it didn't gain its full level of knock-over impact until the beginning of this year, my freshman year of college. I was singing and playing guitar one night, when my friend Jon entered and started harmonizing with me. I don't know what it is about harmonies that is so transcendent: something about two people working together in opposite yet perfectly together ways producing such a fulfilling sound. Then, another girl, whom I had never met, came in and added a third level of harmony. The first song ended, and I suggested this one, "The Scientist." By then, we had a group of about 15 people congregated in my small dorm room. The song began, and shortly after, the lyrics. Our three voices culminated to a place that I'd never ventured to before. The song pulsed through the veins of the room. It was the most vulnerable intimacy that I had ever experienced in a group setting- and we were a group of near strangers. As the music faded, the room was visibly left changed. My resident mentor, with whom I had a relationship that didn't extend beyond knowing each others' first names, was still emotional when she left moments later. A wave of emotion, of sheer vulnerability and translucence, had washed over the room, over our voices, over all of us. And everyone had felt it.
Songs can bring a lot of emotion by sheerly listening to them, but they bring that much more depth and feeling when they interact with the world. Your world. This song always hit a chord for me, but it didn't gain its full level of knock-over impact until the beginning of this year, my freshman year of college. I was singing and playing guitar one night, when my friend Jon entered and started harmonizing with me. I don't know what it is about harmonies that is so transcendent: something about two people working together in opposite yet perfectly together ways producing such a fulfilling sound. Then, another girl, whom I had never met, came in and added a third level of harmony. The first song ended, and I suggested this one, "The Scientist." By then, we had a group of about 15 people congregated in my small dorm room. The song began, and shortly after, the lyrics. Our three voices culminated to a place that I'd never ventured to before. The song pulsed through the veins of the room. It was the most vulnerable intimacy that I had ever experienced in a group setting- and we were a group of near strangers. As the music faded, the room was visibly left changed. My resident mentor, with whom I had a relationship that didn't extend beyond knowing each others' first names, was still emotional when she left moments later. A wave of emotion, of sheer vulnerability and translucence, had washed over the room, over our voices, over all of us. And everyone had felt it.
2. "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" Original Song by The Proclaimers// Cover by Sleeping at Last
The original version of this song has the same lyrics, but I can not stress enough how completely opposite the tempo and mood of it is. It's vibrant, and exuberant, and fast-paced, while the cover is morose, and lingers over the lyrics. The version of the song I'm talking about, for the purposes of this post, is the cover of "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" done by Sleeping at Last.
The song opens with similar heavy, banging piano chords to "The Scientist." When the lyrics begin, the listener almost gasps in awe at the sound of pain in the wail of the artist's voice. It sounds intense, I know, but it kind of is. Don't be scared of the intensity. Embrace it. The effect it'll have on you will be powerful.
The song is about a man saying he'll do whatever he has to do to reach his love. The wail of his voice and the burdensome piano are enough despite the lyrics, but if the listener is missing someone, the effect is even more powerful. The thing about this song is that even if you're not missing someone, it'll make you miss someone. You feel fulfilled in that others feel what you're feeling, but you feel a growing hole at the absence of someone you love. The song fills one void in your heart and makes another.
When I originally wrote this post, I kept trying to go to where I explained the impact of this song, but I never quite got to that point. Gaining some distance and perspective being at college has allowed for me to better understand why this song is so powerful.
"I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" became a favorite for me, and I played it around the house a lot when I lived at home. My dad eventually heard it, liked it, and added it to his own playlist. It quickly became one of his personal favorites. My dad and I don't have a great relationship. A lot of history stems back to when I was younger, and our relationship still stands on an incredibly rocky foundation because of it. Hearing him love and appreciate this song so much was difficult because we could both gain so much out of listening to it, but never had we achieved that sort of depth in conversation with each other. That just goes to show that this song can be impactful for anyone, regardless of background or age or anything in between. It can unite people and make them appreciate what they have-- and miss what they don't.
When I originally wrote this post, I kept trying to go to where I explained the impact of this song, but I never quite got to that point. Gaining some distance and perspective being at college has allowed for me to better understand why this song is so powerful.
"I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" became a favorite for me, and I played it around the house a lot when I lived at home. My dad eventually heard it, liked it, and added it to his own playlist. It quickly became one of his personal favorites. My dad and I don't have a great relationship. A lot of history stems back to when I was younger, and our relationship still stands on an incredibly rocky foundation because of it. Hearing him love and appreciate this song so much was difficult because we could both gain so much out of listening to it, but never had we achieved that sort of depth in conversation with each other. That just goes to show that this song can be impactful for anyone, regardless of background or age or anything in between. It can unite people and make them appreciate what they have-- and miss what they don't.
3. "I Go to the Barn Because I Like The" by Band of Horses
In all honesty, I came across this song on Netflix in an episode of Psych. The show is about a jokester guy pretending to be a psychic and working with the local police department, and is consistently light-hearted and comical. In this episode, however, it was different. Juliet, a lead character and the head detective's partner, gets taken captive by a serial killer. The clock is literally ticking down to her death; she is tied to a clock tower and when the hands finally tick down just so, she will plummet helplessly to her death. There is nothing Juliet can do to save herself. Her mouth is taped, but her eyes show fear to their farthest depths. Her partner makes it to her with seconds to spare. Then, this song begins to play. Through silent action, with only "I Go to the Barn Because I Like The" audible, Juliet is seen distressed talking to an officer at the scene. Then her partner walks over to her, and shoos the officer away. Juliet moves in a way to show that she's fine, that she doesn't need him, that she'll be okay. But then Juliet, who had always been strong and never shown an ounce of vulnerability, breaks down and weeps helplessly into her partner's arms. It made me feel something so entirely and fully and deeply and intensely that I watched the scene over and over and over again.
The song actually opens somewhat lightly. The guitar is acoustic and light and airy. But then the lyrics begin. The song is sung with a falsetto melody and a dark, gruff yet not raspy harmony. The melody is sung with the same vocal quality as Ryan O'Neal of Sleeping at Last. There's a wail and a pain there beyond what the lyrics are saying. As a listener, you can feel what the artist sings. You don't have to relate exactly to what the lyrics are saying; you can relate to the pain in the voices. The blend of the anguished voices and the more sanguine acoustic and electric guitar holds a powerful message of the facade that people are okay when they really aren't.
The most impactful part of the song is the final verse. It is repeated three times, and each time, it grows denser. Deeper. Weighs more on your heart. I think it's repeated that many times to really let it sink it-to really let it take its effect. By the end of the song, it's like an icy breath has touched you that you've never felt before.
The most impactful part of the song is the final verse. It is repeated three times, and each time, it grows denser. Deeper. Weighs more on your heart. I think it's repeated that many times to really let it sink it-to really let it take its effect. By the end of the song, it's like an icy breath has touched you that you've never felt before.
4. "Rivers and Roads" by The Head and The Heart
Where do I begin with this anthem. The beat is like lava that fills your soul. The harmonies alone are enough to make you soft sob. Gosh. They're just spot on. The song's passion makes you stuck in your feelings in a sense of nostalgia. It can become a sort of anthem: something you listen to when you're down. But, it has a way of both fulfilling your need for exposed sensitivity while also lifting you up.
No combination of words in the English language could hope to portray how this song has impacted me. It was a favorite the moment I first heard it. Then, I later shared it with a friend during a guitar jam session one night. You have to remember, guitar and singing is how I vent, and my friends know that, so this song spoke louder than any words I could hope to articulate. I think my friend recognized this, and we got exceptionally closer after that. My friend grew to love and appreciate the song just as much as I do. Friend isn't even a strong enough word for this person. We've opened up to each other, and helped each other, through some of the toughest trials of our lives, both past and present, and honestly without her I wouldn't have the confidence in myself to be opening up and writing this review right now. This song stands on such a monumental base of trust and unguarded openness that it brings me such sadness when I listen to it, yet also such comfort. It finds a way to combine comfort and sadness- to let you cry on its shoulder.
The chords are played softly in the beginning, and when the singers enter they sing with hushed voices, too. Throughout the song, the volume culminates to an emotional high, with pounding strums and vivid vocals. At the very end, it returns to its subtle whisper. It goes softer so your heart truly listens and feels it.
I decided to close with this song because it does come from a heavy place, and it brings fierce emotion with it, but it also uses major chords and harmonies in such a way that instills in the listener that life will go on.
No combination of words in the English language could hope to portray how this song has impacted me. It was a favorite the moment I first heard it. Then, I later shared it with a friend during a guitar jam session one night. You have to remember, guitar and singing is how I vent, and my friends know that, so this song spoke louder than any words I could hope to articulate. I think my friend recognized this, and we got exceptionally closer after that. My friend grew to love and appreciate the song just as much as I do. Friend isn't even a strong enough word for this person. We've opened up to each other, and helped each other, through some of the toughest trials of our lives, both past and present, and honestly without her I wouldn't have the confidence in myself to be opening up and writing this review right now. This song stands on such a monumental base of trust and unguarded openness that it brings me such sadness when I listen to it, yet also such comfort. It finds a way to combine comfort and sadness- to let you cry on its shoulder.
The chords are played softly in the beginning, and when the singers enter they sing with hushed voices, too. Throughout the song, the volume culminates to an emotional high, with pounding strums and vivid vocals. At the very end, it returns to its subtle whisper. It goes softer so your heart truly listens and feels it.
I decided to close with this song because it does come from a heavy place, and it brings fierce emotion with it, but it also uses major chords and harmonies in such a way that instills in the listener that life will go on.
All of these songs say a lot about our culture: as a generation, and as a day and age. In this generation, in this age, it's becoming less and less common for people to admit vulnerability and admit when they're struggling. People bottle it up, or put on a facade that they're okay, and don't admit when they really are dealing with a lot or really need help (myself included). These songs are outlets for the people that wrote them, and become outlets for the listener, to find a way to say what they're feeling, to have a way to let it all out. They show, in an alternative way, that our culture hasn't totally forgotten that emotions are okay-- and that it's okay to be stuck in your feelings and express your full range of emotions to the world.
So. If you are one of those people who's going through more than the world knows, or more than you've admitted to the world, just know this: That you're not alone. That there are people here for you. And, most importantly, that it may take Scientists, or traveling 500 Miles over tons of Rivers and Roads, but you have the strength to get through it.
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