Friday, November 03, 2006
Looking for a Little Sadness
Over at Electric Venom, Kate is asking about depressing songs as writing aids.
If there is one thing I know, it’s depressing songs. Here’s Depressing and Not So Depressing Songs of the Moment.
- “Revolver" by Isobel Campbel and Mark Lanegan from Ballads of the Broken Seas. A duet of strange beauty and poetry where voices touch like fingertips on skin. This song sets a mood of dark, quiet resignation. “And after all, don’t if feel like nothing? Like walking away, like a mouthful of rain...”
- “Mother" by Kubb. This remake of John Lennon’s song is, in this heretics mind, better than the original. A plaintive cry for parent’s love that explores abandonment and sounds like tears. This one is as sad as they come. “Momma don’t go, daddy come home...”
- “The Color of Spring” by Mark Hollis. Mark Hollis is best known for the early Talk Talk albums, but most respected for their later works and his solo album. It is the quietest song here and more wistful than depressing. The slow, bright sound of the piano barely props up the spare lyrics and Hollis’ distinctive voice, but let the music sink deep as you watch your own dreams slipping through your mind. It is some of the most gorgeous music that you’ll find. A good follow-up would be Talk Talk’s “I Believe in You” from Spirit of Eden--a bit more than six minutes of heaven.
- “Fix" by Mark Lanegan from Field Songs. Discord, disquiet, and startling moments of light mark this love song. The menace and darkness come when you realize that it’s all about heroin, that the longing is for the release that the drug provides. Frightening sincerity is the thread that ties the self-destruction with the blessings--"Got no need for shelter--everything’s forgotten. All is forgiven and understood. Flower born from you. Reborn in you. Adorned with you. When I am joined with you. Fix...” If you can’t find a story in that kind of a tragic confession, then you aren’t looking hard enough.
- “Don’t Put No Headstone on My Grave” by Esther Phillips. It’s a lively take on post-relationship blues that loses points on sincerity but gains on the power of Phillips voice and the gorgeous sound.
- “The Last Day of Our Acquaintence” by Sinead O’Connor from I Do Not Want What I Have Not Got. This may be a musical case of oversharing in a big way, but O’Connor’s tale of the end of her marriage remains compelling. Aside from her apparent mental instability, she has a voice that is strong, versatile, and unique. “And I don’t know what happened to our love...”
- “That’s Me Trying” by William Shatner from Has Been. My girlfriend heard this song, which was written by High Fidelity author Nick Hornby, and got pissed off. She found herself absolutely hating the character in the song, a man making an attempt at re-connecting with his daughter. It’s like a look into the mind of a man who was a horrible father and thinks that half-measures late in life might fix all the broken connections in his life--and Shatner is all too believable in the role.
- “Majesty" by Madrugada, especially the version found on Live at Tralfamadore. It’s a haunting song, familiar in its simplicity, but intimate in its portrayal of lost love. You’ll be hooked in the first couple of lines; then you’ll find it playing when you close your eyes at night.
- “Honey Don’t Think” by Grant Lee Buffalo from Mighty Joe Moon. This one isn’t even a little bit disappointing, but it’s a touching expression of love and desire--and it even has a sly sense of humor. “There’s something wrong in my stars, could you look at my chart and help me heal these scars? Could you learn to read minds? In the case of the blind, do you read in the dark?” Because literature and life can’t thrive in complete darkness, this ads that touch of light to remind us to share the good, too.
- “Resurrection Song” by Mark Lanegan from Field Songs. With a guitar painting little circles, a piano just touching at the edges, and what sounds for all the world like ghosts howling in the background, this is a short walk through all of life’s disappointments and mistakes. At every turn, the ghosts are reminders of the hopes that fade away like the piano’s notes, and Lanegan warns us: “Now that the engine driver has become a deep sea diver, and the street has got no end, better keep your heart, strong little friend. Thought I heard a resurrection song...”
That’s not even delving into the grand mopery and wonder of things like Mike Johnson’s brilliant I Feel Alright, Daniel Lanois’ “Death of a Train”, or Sonia Dada’s gospel ode to insanity, “Screaming John.” I could put in a good word for The Sundays’ “On Earth” and “Wild Horses” (a Rolling Stones cover). Morphine’s “In Spite of Me” deserves at least an honorable mention as does Jerry Cantrell’s melancholy “31/32”.
Somehow I forgot to mention Gary Jules’ dramatic take on Tears for Fears’ song “Mad World” and Jeff Buckley’s angelic “Lover You Should Have Come Over” along with Martina Topley Bird’s liquid slow groove “Sandpaper Kisses”.
Yeah, I should stop now…
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Comments & Trackbacks
I vote for Freedy Johnston.
Like, maybe, “This Perfect World”?
Shatner? Dear God, please tell me there’s someone else with that name.
I’m more of a blues man for this type of stuff, but outside of that:
Nazareth: Love Hurts
David Bowie: Rock’n’Roll Suicide
Rush: Tears
CSNY: 4 + 20
Are a few that come to mind. I’d also put the entire Misplaced Childhood CD by Marillion in there, I think. And ELP’s Karn Evil #9 has some depressing elements as well.
The paradox, however, is that good music is always uplifting, even is the subject matter is dark, moody, etc.
Yep. “This Perfect World.” Or as I like to call it, “That album that I like that I never listen to because I don’t want to be miserable.”
"4 + 20” is an excellent choice. Brilliant song.
Retro, it’s good to see you back and making rounds. You’ve been missed.
My most miserable album is Mike Johnson’s I Feel Alright. It was his divorce album and it captured pretty much every feeling I had when I was going through my own divorce--hope that we could work things out, defiance, anger, disappointment, pain, resignation--and set it all to one of the most downbeat selections of songs that you could imagine. Yeah, even eight years later, if I’m in the right (wrong?) mood, it pulls me right back to some tremendously unhappy days.
"Hurt”, Johnny Cash.
Oh, why didn’t I think of that?
Talk about a stuck meme (in my head, that is).
Simply Red: Holdin’ Back the Tears and If You Don’t Know Me by Now
Kansas: Two Cents’ Worth, which predates the Leftoverture album. I won’t quote all the lyrics, but here’s a snatch:
Well I’ve been drinkin’ again and I know it’s a sin, but I just can’t refuse an old friend.
...
In 25 years I have used all the tears in my eyes
Dream On by Aerosmith comes to mind as well. And speaking of the Blues, I’ll put in a plug for Roy Buchanan. His Why Don’t You Want Me features Gloria Hardiman on vocals, and I’ll tell you she’s got some pipes.
I think Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton fits the bill too.
Nillson? Alone Again and I Can’t Live.
On the lighter side, there’s Hard Day on the Planet by Loudon Wainwright, and Let’s Drop the Big One by Randy Newman.
Boston: More Than a Feeling.
Joan Baez: Diamonds and Rust, or if you prefer, it was covered by Judas Priest—which didn’t come across nearly as poignantly as Joan.
Off to spin some old vinyl ...
Oh, why didn’t I think of that?
You’re kind of slow. But lovable.
For me, the sad song isn’t sad. Its the song that had once lifted my spirits, and now that circumstances are different I can’t stand to listen to.
All good suggestions!
Well, except Shatner. Guess I should’ve been more specific about wanting depressing music, not music that would make me want to rip my eyeballs out and shove them in my ears.
Please let me get what I want - The Smiths
Oh, the angst of being 16.
That song that Paris Hilton did makes me want to kill myself, does that count?
I’ll just name bands. Radiohead, the Cranes, Emiliana Torrini, Vast, Dido.
Then there’s Beck’s Sea Change album. Beethoven’s 7th Symphony (II. Allegretto)
Motorway to Roswell by the Pixies would make anyone weepy. That poor little alien, crash landing…
Ahhh, my lovely Dork, of all the songs listed, the ones which you mentioned, or at least the bands/composers are the ones with which I am most familiar.
Well, except, Paris Hilton.
I swear.
Beethoven’s 7th, 2nd movement, makes me want to dance.
Alcohol makes me want to dance.
Makes me want to bowl and eat Taco Bell, too.
For what it’s worth.
Losing My Religion by REM
American Pie by Don MacLean
Now those are depressing songs, not songs that make me want to rip one’s ears off.
For an example of a song that makes me want to kill myself to stop the aural pain: You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrissette. I’d rather listen to Shatner do “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds”.
I would agree with that.
And that’s not even a Shatner song that I like.
Ha! Taco Bell, Dancing, and Alcohol. College wasn’t that long ago, er, I mean the first time in college.
My biggest Taco Bell, Dancing, and Alcohol days were actually the ones I spent directly after my divorce.
Here’s the thing about having been married: it gave me a strange, new confidence with women.
Here’s the other thing about having been married: the divorce hurt and it left me wanting to find ways to make the pain less of a focus in my life.
The combination of alcohol, dancing, and late night/early morning Taco Bell (usually in that order) somehow managed the trick.
Maybe it’s because I’m older, but it seems you guys missed some really obvious ones. Here they are to help you cry out your hopeless moments.
I’m not going to write lyrics here, but I’m sure you can look them up if you’re interested:
Captain Jack (by Billy Joel)
Laura (by Billy Joel)
Dier’s Eve (by Metallica)
Fade to Black (by Metallica)
Two Cents’ Worth (by Kansas. I just had to ditto this one. It really doe fit the theme)
No Son of Mine (by Genesis)
The Grave (by Don McLean)
Wonderful (by Everclear)
Father of Mine (by Everclear)
Release (by Peal Jam)
Down Bound Train (by Bruce Springstien)
Round Here (by Counting Crows)
All to Blame (by Sum41)
Pardon Me (by Incubus)
Wait for Sleep (by Dream Theater)
Space Dye Vest (by Dream Theater)
I’ve got a million more, but no room or time to write.