My Favorites Pt VII
by Noise Pollution
Feel free to insert an introductory paragraph of your choosing here. I don’t feel like writing one.
“I never felt as old and lonely
as I felt when I was young and in love.”
-On Love, On Life; Bayside
As I have likely expressed before, I am an absolute sucker for good hooks. This is one of the better ones I’ve heard in a long time. It expresses what I feel to be a universal sentiment in only a few words, and it doesn’t need any more to get the point across. It’s a really elegant line.
“Mom, get in the car, and let’s drive away
She said ‘I’m sorry, Mark, but there’s nowhere to stay.’
Gave up all her hope and went back inside
Hid her broken heart and let the engine die.”
This is a song from one of the first albums I ever really got into, and I’ve talked about this album’s importance to me in a previous installment of this… thing. This song is one that kind of opened up my eyes to the idea of writing about… well, the shitty things that happened in my life. Prior to that I only had Green Day’s Dookie as a reference point for writing songs, and at such a young age, I didn’t even really get the point of half of those songs anyway. I guess I thought lyrics just needed to be somewhat surreal and vaguely dark and that was kind of the whole deal. The first song I ever wrote has lines that don’t really mean anything to me anymore, and I’m not sure if they held any real meaning then, either. but hearing this song changed things. I could write about my family situation. I could write about the fire I was in. I could write about everything that I had ever experienced. I don’t know why it took this particular song for me to figure that out, but it did.
“And you say that I hurt you, in a voice like a prayer
Yeah, you say that I’ve hurt you, and your voice is like a prayer
Yeah, well maybe I hurt you sometimes, but let’s contrast and compare
Lift up your shirt, the wound isn’t there
I guess that your truth, is just the ghost of your lies
I guess your kind of truth, is just the ghost of your lies
Yeah, your kind of truth, darling, is just the ghost of your lies
I see through them all the time
So I’m pouring some whiskey, I’m gonna get drunk
Yeah, I’m pouring myself some whiskey, I’m going to get really fucking drunk
I’m pouring some whiskey right now, I’m going to get so, so drunk
That I pass out, forget your face, by the time I wake up.”
-It’s Cool, We Can Still Be Friends; Bright Eyes
This was a song I would listen to during the twilight hours of my dextromethorphan drug trips. It wasn’t my idea initially, actually. I didn’t even know Bright Eyes wrote depressing music until a particularly long and low-feeling night spent high as a kite with my best friend. For context, every single dextromethorphan trip is extremely introspective. You lose your sense of self. You lose your sense of being in the world. You feel like a disembodied existence; you have nothing tethering you to the earth anymore. You become nothingness. I know I sound like a fucking druggie-pothead-hippie-blah-blah-blah-whatever right now, but just bear with me for a sec. This drug had uses for some people for “shamanic” purposes, which does sound like bullshit to me, but that just goes to show how fucking strange of an experience it was. My friend and I didn’t use it that way. We used it as more of a “reset button” of sorts. After coming out of this insane, borderline-unbearable trip, you felt like a new person. But you felt that way because you managed to get through what felt like a trial.
Anyway, why am I talking about this particular drug in so much detail right now when I’m supposed to be talking about this song? It’s because my feelings about this song are highly attached to the feelings I had while in that state. You see, the first time I had ever heard one of Bright Eyes’ sad songs was during one of these trips, and it was the song “A Perfect Sonnet”, which is fucking depressing. Eventually we found this one, and it permanently became a part of our “we need to get real fucking sad while we’re high tonight” playlist.
By the way, in case I gave you any ideas, don’t fucking do dex. My back has a permanent X-shaped scar where I had a friends cut into me with an X-acto knife while I was high on it. I spent hours vomiting. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel innumerable times, though I never reached it. When I say that it’s a trial, I fucking mean it. It’s not pleasant. My friends and I were just incredibly depressed and had a desire to be as fucked-up as we possibly could throughout high school. It wasn’t fun. It was something that we felt like we had to do, to be ourselves. I don’t know why. But don’t take this description as some kind of incentive to take dextromethorphan. You will spend hours in the most miserable state you’ve ever been in your life, and will have nothing but a three-day hangover and puke-stained carpets to show for it. Don’t fucking do it. Anyways.
Normally I’d do one or two more lines, but I’ve totally run out of steam. Sorry about that.