When the rain is hard, the sun is hidden, and my knees buckle, I don’t smoke. Instead of grabbing a blanket with a cup of tea, I reside in music. When I feel pain, regret, or sorrow, moody music is my rock. Knowing that others experience similar pain calms me. It inspires acceptance for my situation.
To me, “Mrs Magic” by Strawberry Guy is a soothing lullaby. The beat is very reminiscent of a changing situation. Like a seed sprouting in all directions; uncertain of its future, yet full of hope. The clarity and oomph of the piano strikes are like drops into a body of water. They pierce through the ears like a cat’s purr. Instantly setting the mood to vulnerability and embrace.
But when I feel cornered with no escape, “Need2” by Pinegrove is my angel. Its subtle introduction in-tandem with the mellow guitar melts my worries. The lyrics “Nothing here to care about”, and “ it’s nothing worth me sayin’ aloud” feel like a hug. They comfort me like no-one else. “Need2” accepts my sorrow and reshapes it into hope: “So then why do I seem to Need to [talk]?”
But when all the emotion is exhausted and I have a good cry, I lay dormant. I want to do, and be nothing: I want to let go and face no consequence.
While recovering from this state, d4vd’s “Dirty Secrets” is my lantern. The introduction loops me in and the ambient sounds welcome me. The music’s fade from background to foreground makes me feel like the center of attention. It feels like a father lifting his toddler, embracing him.
Love is a constant feeling throughout “Dirty Secrets”’. The drums, and guitar strums make a mountain feel bottled. It starts as an impending intensity, but transitions into bite size feelings. This change reminds me of crying; the defusing of an emotion bomb.The vulnerability expressed by D4vd makes me feel welcome. It is what puts me back on track and pulls me back to reality.
But even as times get sunny, I depend on moody music. It’s the jump start to my battery. It’s the coffee to my morning. Mason Ramsey’s “Blue Over You” is one of my favorite tracks. The serenity of this song is uncontested. Unlike “Dirty secrets”, “Blue Over You” introduces the listener to his heartbreak, resulting in a home-y feel. This sorrowful tone is then exemplified by Ramsey’s singing, which alternates between crying and mourning throughout. When he emphasizes the chorus “Blu[uuuuu]e ove[eeeee]r you[uuuuuu]” it soothes my core. It’s like Ramsey’s in the room, sobbing on my shoulder.
This transparency gives me a sense of brotherhood. Even though I didn’t help him, I was proud. Through our shared troubles, I found Respect for Ramsey. This bond turned “Blue Over You” from a sad song, to a song of warning. The lyrics read like a broken brother – explaining the pitfall he fell into. Ramsey pours his heart talking about his young stupid love. He emphasizes how emotions morph into mirages, and how quickly mutual connections can change.
The lyric “I lost you… but you were never really mine” embodies the pain of immature love. And I love “Blue Over You” because of that. To me, finding music with this emotion and intent is a gift. A gift I can look into and proudly love.
But not everyone processes breakups equally. That’s why I enjoy Linkin Park’s “ A Place For My Head”. It’s a song that loudly exclaims Good riddance we broke up. My partner was a bum! The vocalist explains his frustration via selective intensity. When explaining himself, the vocalist stays calm, but when his emotions are re-lived, primal rage takes over. By the end of the song the chorus is barely recognizable amidst furious screeching.
I appreciate all this energy, borderline love it. It fully expresses frustrations of early relationships. It shows how messy and complicated love can be. But unlike “Blue Over You”, “A Place For My Head” doesn’t pull any punches. It really lets decaying malice seep into the listener. Since the opening lines the listener can practically taste the resentment: “[The] sun doesn’t give light to the moon assuming the moon’s gonna owe it one, It makes me think of how you act for me”
The instrumentals are also incredible. The base does a great job introducing previous conflict while also shifting into the current outburst. It’s so effective that it makes me feel like I was there. Witnessed the drama from the beginning. The drums are also a significant aspect of the song. Their impact on intensity is immense. They even go from supporting the guitar, to rivaling it.
This tension – even between instruments – is what gets me excited, and eventually wears me down.
So when I’m wore out, I just want one thing: closure. Of all my options, “YKWIM?” (You Know What I Mean?) by the Yot Club is my favorite passage to peace. In the first seconds, “YKWIM?” sets a domain of innocence. It reminds me of a simpler time, my childhood. The waves of sound, recreate my memories; showing me thick tv’s, noisy computers, and, unfortunate-loved ones. It brings back the colors of my town, Managua, Nicaragua. Like a ghost, “YKWIM?” revives the smells of capitalism, poverty, and gluttony I’d once thought dead.
I am thankful for these smells. They are a juxtaposition to my infancy, a wonderland of experimentation. In those honeymoon days nothing could touch me. I never felt hungry, in danger, or lost. My family’s care let me grow ignorant; with them, every day was an adventure. I used to be Indiana Jones, afraid of nothing. At 4 years old I would regularly talk to strangers, and often befriend them. I eventually became so notorious that when I managed to sneak out my parents first looked in my neighbor’s houses.
Those were fun days, and I praise everyone that made them possible. Due to my overwhelming nostalgia, I love “YKWIM?” and after every replay, I feel indebted to The Yot Club. They’re helping me relive moments that would otherwise fade away. They’re my personal heros.
In general, moody music is my comfort blanket. Throughout all my emotions, moody music supported and guided me like no other.
So, with all this emotion in my heart, I recommend moody music to you. I hope it lifts you up, as it did me.
