This is your usual Sunday post. A a day late because it took me a while to wrap my head around how piece it all together, plus I got stuck down a Spotify rabbit hole.
I was in my third year in University working as a marketing assistant for the law school when I first heard the song. I was writing a piece on fiduciary law, terribly boring and hard to understand if you’re not a law student when Sleeping At Last’s I’ll Keep you Safe start to play. I stopped writing and felt this unlocked wave of emotions crash over me.
At the time, I was having a battle with depression; I felt this deep sadness that ran through my veins, and I cried in the office. I never cry in public spaces, reserving that only for the privacy of my own room. The lyrics triggered an emotional response: “I'll keep you safe / try hard to concentrate / hold out your hand / can you feel the weight of it? / the whole world at your fingertips / don't be, don't be afraid / our mistakes, they were bound to be made / but I promise you i'll keep you safe.” I had felt so alone during that time, all I wanted was to be close to people, to be comforted.
I was on the train to work last Tuesday when out of the 1’047 songs on my Spotify Liked playlist it began again. That song is so deeply tied to that memory, to that difficult year that I can no longer listen to it without feeling a bubble of sadness for the past version of myself. I have turned to this song when I have been restless or emotional, or, more often, confused and I haven’t known how or what to feel.
Music is so much more than just a soundtrack to our lives. We learn a great amount about life through lyrics and more often than not, it’s the only way we can convey how we feel when words fail us. Why else would people dedicate songs to each other?
Michael Buble’s love ballads such as Home, Everything and Lost were my first introduction to love songs. It was during that time before I had an iPod, a time when I had to illegally download music with no cover image from Youtube and songs were labelled michael_buble_home.mp3 on my blue MP3 player. There was no curated playlist, no ability to select a song, just an endless shuffle that I had to scroll through.
When I was 21 and studying abroad, I was homesick and Home became my anthem for those few months. Despite being a love song about missing someone, it became a song about missing my actual home.
When I was writing this post I spent an hour scrolling through playlists and songs thinking of where I was when I first heard them. I thought about the people I was with and where I was in the stage of young adulthood. The Ketchup Song by Asereje was mine and a childhood friend’s song. We used to dance in the kitchen to it. 17 by Hedley reminds me of the heavy pop-rock, pop-punk phase I was into in high school. I was waiting for a red eye flight to Cambodia when I played Locked out of Heaven by Bruno Mars on repeat. I sang loudly to it much to the dismay of my friend, Emily. Photograph by Ed Sheeran was a special song dedicated to me by a past relationship. I can’t listen to it anymore, but thank god he has other great hits.
Lyrics and instruments whether that be keys on a piano or the beat of a kick drum, operate as a universal language binding people who have shared experiences. Perhaps that’s why concerts are so great. It’s not something you can physically hold in your hand, but you can feel its effects forever. Music enters your heart and soul, and leaves you with the memory of how it felt.
In November of 2017, I saw the Bleachers perform live at House of Blues in Boston. Maggie, my roommate and closest friend, and I stood on the left upper deck to the stage, we had a close view of the performance, and you could feel the euphoric energy in the room that night. If Home is my anthem for when I’m sad, then Rollercoaster is the up-beat, jubilant song that I jam to when things feel right in my life. Lead singer Jack Antonoff says the song was written while he was driving home on the New Jersey turnpike and that the “song always felt like driving on a highway to me sonically.” Coincidentally, that’s when I most listen to Rollercoaster - in the summer when I’m driving, with the windows rolled down, and the song at full volume.
Tell me about a song that incites a memory, sad or happy - Let’s listen. If you don’t feel comfortable writing in the comments below, DM me on instagram (@natcrx) and we can chat there.