Song Challenge Day 10: A Song That Makes You Sad

Sorry, y'all, but since day 10 is "A song that makes you sad," today's entry in this song challenge is going to be kind of depressing. I'm going to go ahead now and say

Content Warning: Suicide

I'm going with this one; this is the official music video, but for the full version, go here. As a small aside, I never understood why Amos looks... turned on? during the video, given 1) the subject matter, and 2) how sad/emotional she sounds in the recording.

You can probably guess if you know me or have followed my blog for a while, but this song makes me think of my dad for myriad reasons. No, we didn't have ice and snow everywhere in Las Vegas when I was growing up (although yes, we did actually go to indoor ice skating rinks sometimes), and I never needed mittens. But a few things aside from it being about the relationship between a father and child, things from the general to the specific, make this song hit me hard.

-The general melancholic sound, and the regretful tone and implication from the lyrics as a whole, parallel my feelings about Dad. I regret never repairing the damage that had been done, bridging the gap that opened when he and my mom got divorced. It is a wound I will carry until I die, and I know there was nothing I could have done, not really- he made his own choices, and they led to his untimely death. But I'll always wonder, what would have happened if I had reached out? What if I had tried to help him in that last year or two? Etc. And this line of questioning will haunt me the rest of my life. Thinking of Dad can sometimes lead to a smile, but it still more often than not just makes me sad. So, too, does the song, then.

-The path the music follows parallels the trajectory of Dad's decline. It starts subtle, gets more and more profound, reaches a high point of drama and bombast, and then fades away. Dad's end started when I was a teenager, as his drinking gradually increased and his behavior became more and more erratic and toxic. At its worst, its peak, he ended his life in the most violent way possible, a gun to the head. And in the aftermath, he didn't even have a memorial service because the way in which he died was too traumatic for his mom or sister (the latter of which found him) to hold one. It's objectively sad (as objective as "sad" can be, anyway), and ultimately, the way the song ends reflects the way my dad's story ended- quietly, nigh imperceptibly. 

-The line in the chorus, "When you gonna love you as much as I do?" basically speaks for itself. I never stopped loving him, and I wish to God he had loved himself enough to not do what he did. Half. If he had loved himself half as much as I did, as I do, he very well may be here still. And I think that's one of the parts that makes it hurt the most. That he was in so much pain, had that much hate for himself and his life, that he felt the best course was to end it. The Dad that broke his toe to avoid stepping on and snapping my Barbie in half. The same Dad that kept me home from school to play video games with him. The same Dad that loved me so much he refinanced his house to help me pay for college. It breaks my heart over and over to think of it.

-"So many dreams on the shelf...You say I wanted you to be proud of me." Of course I wanted him to be proud. And as he started fading, it seemed harder and harder to do. There was one instance where I felt I let him down completely: During my sophomore year, I was accepted into an exchange program with American University in D.C. to study government and civics, and I was also offered an internship in then-Senator Harry Reid's D.C. office for the duration of the exchange. In the end, despite my dean of students personally talking to my college's financial aid as well as American University's, our family just couldn't afford it because AU was that much more expensive and that much more stingy with financial aid. So, I declined both offers. And I remember one evening, my first break home after the decision, where Dad, having been drinking, told me how disappointed he was that I didn't go, and how sorry he was that we couldn't find a way to afford it. He didn't blame me specifically, but I felt like by not agreeing to triple my loans in order to make it possible, I had disappointed him more than anyone else ever had. He said he wanted me to do great things, knew I could, if I "just tried." He was sure I would be super successful someday, and someday soon, and not going to D.C. made him question that assertion, out loud and in front of me, no less. And it always felt to me that that conversation was the tipping point where he started to disdain me, too. And I'll forever wonder what would have happened between us if I had worked it out somehow, had taken more loans to cover living expenses and food and had actually gone to D.C. (never mind the different path my career could have taken). I gave up on that dream, and it disappointed him. This is just one example, but overall, considering I'm still working retail and in school, I have no doubt he'd still be disappointed in me, at least a little. And that makes me feel gross about myself.

I could go on, but I'm so damn sick of being sad, I need to end this post now. But yeah, "Winter" is my go-to "I-wanna-be-sad" song. I miss my Dad. I regret how things ended. My mind and heart are awash with a million "what-if"s. I miss my Dad. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for so many things I could have done differently. I know I can't change them, but if I could, I would. 

Day 8: A Song About Drugs or Alcohol

Alrighty, day 8, "A song about drugs or alcohol."

I went back and forth over a lot of options, but I think I have to settle on this one, here:

"Roc Boys" is one of Jay-Z's songs inspired by the film American Gangster, on the album of the same name. (For unedited, click here.) I highly recommend both the film and the album it inspired. 

Given the premise of the film, and how Jay-Z was basically remaking the movie in his music, yeah, this song is about drugs- specifically the selling of them, and riding the success thereafter. 

And while no, I obviously don't condone drug rings, this song is ridiculously catchy, and I love it. I don't think I've made a mix CD since I bought the American Gangster album that doesn't include "Roc Boys" on it (and I make them every few months). 

Song Challenge Day 7: A Song to Drive to

For all five of you that are following this silly thing of mine, it's day 7 of the song challenge, and the prompt today is, "A Song to Drive to."

This is another fairly easy one. For your listening and driving pleasure: 

You're welcome.

Ok so this was the first song I heard by ZZ Ward and I fell in love with the blues-rock hybrid sound of it, and then I listened to the rest of her stuff (this was not too long after her first album dropped, so eight years ago, give or take a few months). Oof, does this woman know how to wail and NOT sound like a dying chicken! If this song interests you at all, I implore you to look her up on Spotify or Apple Music or Prime Music or whatever the Hell else it is you use to listen to music. She's mega-talented and deserves way more attention, and it's a shame she's still somewhat obscure. Her second album is also a gem, and her mixtape Eleven Roses with her own versions of songs by other artists like Kendrick Lamar is just... 

Anyway, so "Move Like You Stole It" is a damn fun song. It's sexy, it's tough, it's assertive, it's bold. It's catchy! And that hint of gravel in her voice could easily sound like a cold in less-skilled hands, but she utilizes it just enough to give her singing an extra bit of depth without sounding gimmicky or ill.

One thing that I appreciated about this song was it's a woman singing about sexual desire and the things she'd do to her partner- it's a lot harder to find women singing about sex than men. You get your "Red Light Special"s and "2 Become 1"s every now and again, but pretty much every genre has a sub-genre focused on tropes revolving around the exploitation, objectification, and/or dehumanization of women. So I adore the following, and will sing its praises until the day I die, because of the message it's sending:

I'm not saying women should thus be exploiting dudes left and right (although the dudes in Maddie and Tae's video are pretty fucking hilarious- but it's SATIRE, so it's not the same thing) (and I should note, Bo Burnham even hints at the treatment of women in stadium country music with his generic "A good girl" line in his satirical country song). But Women just rarely sing about sex, arousal, or desire.

So Ward's overt passes and statements are refreshing. She may be singing about driving, but she's really singing about something else. You go, girl. 

But for real, overall, this song is a toe-tapper for sure, and I legit have to be careful not to start speeding when it pops up on the mix CDs I keep in my car (because sometimes I do tire of channel surfing*). Listen to it, relish it.

And look up the rest of ZZ Ward's music. You will not be disappointed.

*Again, sorry Beaux.

Song Challenge 6: A Song That Makes You Want to Dance

I'm pretty excited for this one. Day 6 in the song challenge is "A song that makes you want to dance."

I didn't have to think much about this one. Even though I can't dance at all, I still know what I wish I could dance to, and right now, the main one is this:

I know the official video has that moment where it gets a little distorted, so if for some reason you've never heard this song before (WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN), here's The Weeknd's official audio version, completely intact.

I've thoroughly enjoyed all of The Weeknd's previous albums, and his latest, After Hours, absolutely does not disappoint. It came out right after I got stuck at home, and I listened to it on repeat for a week straight while my boyfriend was at work (he still has a job, huzzah!), and with headphones when he was home. I think it's his best work so far, and from what I've seen online, I guess actual, paid critics agree. 

Whenever this song comes on the radio (or I find it when channel surfing- I am a terrible channel surfer*), I crank it up and start bobbing around in the driver's seat the way Tesfaye does partway through the video. I can't help it. If I'm at a red light, I start slapping** my thigh to the beat; if I'm not, it's the wheel. 

The layers in this song are intoxicating. The synth hook is the kind of earworm I'm totally ok with having around. The simple but heavy beat begs for some sort of physical reaction (a tap, a nod, something). Tesfaye's voice is as smooth and sexy as ever. I don't even mind the "HEY!"-ing, something I often find a little annoying in songs- it somehow fits here, perhaps because of the excitement this song just kind of engenders. It all adds up to another song that, as the kids say, "slaps."

In other words, this is a fucking good song. And it not only makes me want to dance, it makes me wish I even could. 

One last thing: Honorable Mention goes to the remix of Mike Posner's "I Took a Pill in Ibiza." Both are great, in very different ways, and the remix just hits you in the face once the first chorus ends and it's like DAY-um. I'm just sad they cut the last verse from the remix, but still, it's one of the few club/dance remixes I even tolerate, let alone absolutely adore.

*I'm sorry, Beaux.

**Maybe that's where the "slap" thing came from when it comes to describing good songs?

Song Challenge Day 4: A Song That Reminds You of Someone You'd Rather Forget

Time for Day 4 of the Song Challenge, "A song that reminds you of someone you'd rather forget."

I'm going with this one:

If you've been following this blog for a while, or know me in person, you know who this song is about- I wrote about our breakup before.

Gomez sings about a man who started out wonderful, but whose narcissism took over her world, whose behavior trained her to put his needs before hers at all times. A man who had a somewhat carnal need to cause her pain, who would sabotage things she cared about simply because she cared about them. A man that kept holding her back and tearing her down.

And she sings about herself, a woman who tried. A woman whose idealism kept her hanging on, only causing her more pain. But who eventually lets go and realizes she's none of the things he made her think. That she's worth more.

Funny enough, the only part that's off is the, "In two months you replaced us," bit- in actuality, I found someone new in about two months, and he's the best thing that has ever happened to me. 

I left that ex out of self-preservation. But getting away from his toxicity has helped me gain a new perspective about myself, and started me on a journey with more self-love than I've ever felt for myself before. I still struggle with my self-image, but knowing I did my best but still made the best choice I could, helps me lean in a positive direction. 

Still, I don't really like thinking of him, if for no other reason than I've moved on and am in an astronomically better relationship, and dwelling on my abuser can lead to some pretty low lows. Thinking of him frequently takes me to dark places, so I try not to.  

Day 3: A Song That Reminds You of Summer

Time for Day 3, "A song that reminds you of summer."

Y'all are probably going to make fun of me, but this song makes me think of summer when I hear it:

While it gained a resurgence in popularity thanks to and is mostly associated with the film Shrek, the music video features clips from the criminally underrated/under-appreciated Mystery Men, in which it featured heavily, and is meant to imply the band is interacting with the film's stars. 

This song came out relatively close to when summer vacation starts for kids. At home, while my mom was running errands or taking my siblings to specialists, I'd put VH1 on in the background as I did chores, and this song must have played every gorram hour that summer following its release. It completely dominated my summer vacation. 

And the video itself, with its bright lighting and primary colors, invokes summer.

Honestly, I don't have a whole lot more to say about it. It's still a good song, despite what haters say, and the memes that center around it are just delightful (this is one of my favorites, being somewhat of a music snob)- and the band is cool with them, even!

Really, I think the people ragging on "All Star" just hate happiness.

Song Challenge Day 2: A Song With a Number in the Title

Time for Day 2: "A song you like with a number in the title."

Easy pick, this one was:

I first heard this song in the movie Fly Away Home, of all places. I loved that movie- I watched it every time it was on TV. I even bought a copy of it when I was in college, although somewhere along the way it got lost.

A year after the movie came out (so in 1997), my grandmother passed away from lung cancer. It wasn't a long, drawn-out battle, either- she was diagnosed in October and passed a few days after my birthday in March. (Happy birthday to me, right? Some sort of fucked up cosmic joke, and to this day, it's a reason I'm often reluctant to give a shit about making it another year.) It was sudden, nigh traumatic- in the blink of an eye, she went from teaching me about the pork and beans plant to herself being a vegetable, and then...

Losing her was the beginning of the lifetime of hardship I've endured. While I've had some brief moments of respite, it continues to be difficult, and beyond your everyday annoyances- deaths, suicides, abuse, couch surfing, health scares of my own (most of it I haven't even bothered to bring up here)- yadda, yadda, yadda. There is a reason I call this blog American Dramady, after all. In my lowest moments, I lament how life won't give me a fucking break. I try to come out swinging, and do my best to laugh, but it can be difficult. So sometimes I find irrational things from which to draw strength when I can.

The singer is saying goodbye to someone they love dearly. But saying they won't be gone forever. Maybe it's entirely psychosomatic, but I think I created this unspoken promise from her- the promise that she'd still be there, here, present. So I almost immediately related this song to my grandma once she was gone. And to this day, whenever I play it, I can feel her fingers scratching my scalp to comfort me (it was literally the only thing that could calm me down when I was little). I can smell her perfume. I can hear her laugh. I can hear her do that thing where she starts saying one of my siblings' names and switches to mine halfway through, something that never ceased to make me giggle. I see her working in the garden, the flowers we planted together, the butterfly she once got to land on her finger. I can smell her cooking, and I think of corned beef hash and scrambled eggs, of vanilla ice cream topped with canned peaches (I can't eat those combinations, to this day).

And I know she's there. And somehow, it's not that cheesy, "You'll be in my heart, always," kind of way. It feels tangible, again, however irrational it may be. And even though I often start sobbing (like I am now, 'natch!), it's cleansing. Grandma never told me not to cry- she didn't like seeing me sad or in pain, but she never told me to "stop crying." She knew me enough to know that if I was crying, it was because I needed it. I'd do that thing little kids do where their breath starts to heave as they're blubbering, and she'd curl me up in her arms and say it's ok, let it out, as she stroked my head, and I knew I was safe. And I'd feel better a lot faster when she did that. The release when I play "10000 Miles" is the same.

The soothing mood of the song is a lot like her presence. I think that had a lot to do with why I assigned this song to her memory. I only ever saw her angry once, and it had nothing to do with me- other than that, she was just this calm, steady, constant presence.

Until she wasn't.

And the hint of sadness weaved throughout this song echoes the pain I still feel at her loss. Twenty-three years later, and it still feels fresh. Her death cut too deep for any song I equate with her to be cheerful- I can't force myself to laugh over losing her. I can laugh when recalling specific moments, but that's not the same thing.

I know I'm high-strung/emotional/whatever. And yeah, I'm sentimental a-eff. There are much less healthy coping mechanisms, though, right? 

So even though it may appear this song makes me sad, it actually gives me comfort and strength. And even as I wipe away tears, I feel better. I don't listen to it often, deliberately- it's kind of like a trump card for me, along with watching The Last Unicorn, something I save for when things are really hard so as not to dilute its effectiveness. And I think it's no coincidence that the same grandma that is the basis for The Last Unicorn being a source of comfort is the one I'm talking about here, as well.

It's hard for me to find sanctuary. In this song, I do. 

I promise, tomorrow's won't be as sad. ;p

Song Challenge Day 1: A Song with a Color in the Title

So because of this pandemic, I've been home for over a month at this point. I've been trying to find different ways to occupy myself so as to not go stir-crazy or get too depressed, so I thought I would take this song challenge thing a friend on Facebook is doing and expand on it a little each day here. 

I know I'm starting in the middle of the month, so I'll just do all 31. Not that anyone will really care all that much, but it will be something for me to do aside from watching TV (I'm currently in season 3 of Star Trek: Voyager) or playing video games (Bloodborne and the Resi 3 remake, a topic about which I hope to rant at some point soon, too, if I can just figure out how to say what I want).

So, day 1 is "A song with a color in the title." Here's my choice:

I think the meaning behind this song often gets lost in the upbeat tempo and catchy hooks- but when you listen to the lyrics, it's not just about missing someone or something you took for granted. It's about conservation and enviornmentalism. 

"Hey farmer, farmer/ Put away the DDT now/ Give me spots on my apples/ But leave me the birds and the bees/ Please."

You can be kind of snarky about it and say she's singing about sex, and I'm sure she deliberately chose that lyric in order to facilitate multiple meanings. But a different interpretation is she's telling a farmer to quit using pesticides on apples so it doesn't destroy the environment.

This song is fifty years old. And how are we doing?

Welp.

-We have ten years before the entire global ecosystem collapses, with losses of coasts and islands due to sea levels rising as a result of ice caps melting, all coral reefs dying, water scarcity, crop failures...

-Oh, those ice caps are likely to so depleted that there will be no ice during summer seasons within thirty years. 

-Most of the ecosystems in our oceans my collapse within this decade. 

-And we're totally not prepared for what could happen if we don't improve our policies and repair the damage, since we aren't doing enough to stave off catastrophe.

It's a damned shame.

Now I know anybody interested in reading what I have to say is already on board with this, but it's just infuriating because my generation and those after me are inheriting this almost literal trash fire from our parents and grandparents- and they're fine with it! They'll be dead, so they don't give a shit.

I know I could do better- I could probably use less water when doing dishes, taking showers,etc., but there's still the fact that one person's contribution is negligible when compared to the biggest polluting companies in the world- so much so that the top eight produce more pollution than that caused by every person in the U.S. combined. 

But the raw molecules are only part of the story. Between the narrative sold to us by consumerism and society, and the increasing neoliberalism rampant in our political structures (the emphasis on the individual), we're stuck in a system where we think we have choices, but we don't, and we think our choices will make a difference, but their impact will only be marginal at best (assuming everyone makes the right ones together).

But this is a lie.

In truth, these companies have known as early as five years before Joni Mitchell wrote "Big Yellow Taxi" that they would destroy the environment. And instead of changing course, turning themselves into renewable sources of energy, they doubled down and bought government leaders- Congresspeople, governors, mayors, presidents. They secure funding and tax breaks, they block policies that would go so far as to require them to (literally) clean up their act even just a fraction of a percent a year. They fund erroneous research via "thinktanks" they front, all the while putting forth a false pretense of being "clean" and "caring" about our environment and the world in which we live. Current marketing campaigns with sweeping shots of solar panels and an exaggerated presentation of their "push" for alternative energy like the video on this page abound.

Interestingly, in that video, they emphasize how they've spent $16.5B on this research since 2000. But, given the lowest their annual revenue has been since then was $205.251B, one would think that if they really cared as much as they did, they would be spending a lot more on alternatives and efficiency- as it stands, $16.5B over twenty years isn't much at all for a company that huge.

And yet, they've convinced us that we are the ones at fault, for our own daily practices. It's our fault for driving so much, let alone how their cohorts block public transit and oil companies contributed to the fall of the first wave of electric cars by GM in the '90s. It's our fault for using traditional energy, yet they make no effort to create affordable solar or wind options for anyone aside from the 1%. It's our fault for using gorram plastic straws (and plastic in general), even though the alternatives are still more expensive and sometimes don't quite cut it.

The only way things are going to improve is if fundamental shifts in how our society functions and operates occur. Mass transit needs to become the primary means of transportation in every community. Renewable energy for the home needs to not only be made affordable for the middle-class, but flat-out provided to the working poor. Plastic alternatives need to be less expensive. Fossil fuel companies' current sources of revenue, i.e. fossil fuels, need to become obsolete. Tesla can't be the only company making fully electric cars.

Big changes. And we're nowhere near any of them right now.

So, "Big Yellow Taxi." Every time I hear it, whether it's the original or that ubiquitous cover by the Counting Crows and Vanessa Carleton, I tap my toes while also kind of having a slight tantrum in my head. Because fifty years ago, one of the greatest singer-songwriters of the last century warned us about what we're doing to our planet. And we haven't really listened.

We won't really know what we've got until it's gone, and by then, it will be too late.

Happy Friday?

Songs About Nothing, Vol. 1: Can't Even *Start* the Feeling

Okay, so I know I've started a million different "series" on here, like the "Girl Nerdery" one or the "Diversity in Comics" one (which still only has one entry... oops?) and... I feel like there are more, but I'm gonna confess I'm too lazy to go back and see if there are more. But I was in my car and a song from my childhood came on the "throwback"* station. And I was contemplating the lyrics and said, "This song is emphatically about nothing." And yes, I said it aloud. I'll do a post on that song sometime soon**, but as I was already writing about JT's newest single with a similar theses in mind, so... why not, eh?

I think Justin Timberlake seems to have this unfortunate habit of not churning out albums as quickly as his fans would like. I remember when this video came out, and how I thought, "These people; they get me. From the gal talking about Bruno Mars, to the dude admitting he can't say 'Da'... Because that's how science works!"

It was still almost two years after this video when The 20/20 Experience came out. Of course, I had to get the Target exclusives of it and Part 2 of 2. BECAUSE I NEEDED THOSE EXTRA SONGS OR MY LADYBITS WOULD HAVE GIVEN UP ON LIFE. And now we've been waiting again, and we're on year three. Until early May, I had resigned myself to the fact that it would probably be another year or two from now. 

And then I saw people talking about JT's  new single all over The Facebooks and The Twitters (yes, I still creep on Twitter, even though I rarely tweet nowadays). I was at work, of course, on a break, and didn't want to suck up the data, and also didn't want what promised to be an orgasmic experience (since, hey, it's Justin Timberlake's new single, people!) to be ruined by the shoddy reception in the office at work. So I was antsy with anticipation, and as soon as I got home***, I looked it up on YouTube. And what I found was this:

I kind of sat there, not even bothering to stop the autoplay from starting some random song I don't even remember but know I wasn't interested in. I was stunned. I wasn't super sad and disappointed, but  I also wasn't super excited about it. The best way to describe it, is I was whelmed:

I mean, it's a decent song, but it's  not... amazing. And when JT does stuff for himself, i.e., his albums,  amazing is one of the descriptors I would use. I just felt kinda meh about it. So I hit the back button and replayed it again. And again. And again. And I honestly don't know how many times I actually listened to it before I realized the problem: At the end of the day, it's just an empty pop song, intentionally catchy and about so many things at once that it's about nothing. 

Either that, or it's about a massive orgy.

First, I do want to acknowledge that the funky baseline kind of saves it from being bad. That is true Justin Timberlake there. But the rest? Let's look at the lyrics, shall we? (Note: The link is to a basic, I'm assuming, fan-done posting that The Googles pointed me to; I have the same link that's embedded up there open in another tab and listen to it when I think the full lyric linked is incorrect, so if there's a difference, don't freak out.)

I got this feeling inside my bones/It goes electric, wavy when I turn it on: Okay, nothing too weird here. Dude's just happy, and making vaguely nerdy sciencey references.

All through my city, all through my home/ We're flying up, no ceiling when we're in our zone: This already starts to scatter things. Dude was alone at first, then is singing about other people. So... maybe they're sharing the joy with him? But it's just a little jarring, since he's singing with first-person singular pronouns, and then suddenly jumps to plural. He could have at least had a line about how he has his friends all up in his home or something. 

I got that sunshine in my pocket: That's cute. Like the kind of stuff you'd see in an episode of a kids' show, like Gullah Gullah Island or Out of the Box. This is actually the crux of the whole thing, but I'll get to that later. I should note that, once again, he's singing in first person. Where'd the people that make the earlier part a "we" go? 

Got that good soul on my feet: What? I mean, okay, he means soul music, but I don't really feel like soul is usually attributed to lots of dancing. And the bass line and beat aren't that "soul-ee," but more R&B-ee, or even funk...ee. Funky! Get it? 

I feel that hot blood in my body when it drops/ I can't take my eyes up off it, moving so phenomenally: What the fuck is "it"? The beat? The coke? Take his eyes off what? And in the overall lyrical content of the song, "phenomenally" is quite out of place. The first time you hear it, it's pretty obvious he couldn't figure out what to put there without sounding erudite.****  It's kind of jarring. Then later, when you hear it again, it's... uncomfortable, but not as shocking, since you know it's coming.

Room on lock the way we rock it, so don't stop: I'm going to guess this is where the orgy starts taking place. Obviously, you'd lock the doors of an orgy. I would think, anyway, since I've no personal experience. 

All of you, judging me now

Okay, seriously, though, this is just entirely nonsensical. I guess they lock the doors of his "home" referenced earlier? 

Under the lights when everything goes/ Nowhere to hide when I'm getting you close: WHERE DOES WHAT GO? I'm just frustrated, because these lyrics are bouncing around like pinballs in a box  of potential topics. Now he's singing to one person? I thought he had all his homies? So he's been singing about one person the whole time, and just singing about them, eh? The fact that it took this long for there to be a singular noun that isn't first-person makes it hard to understand. 

When we move, well you already know/ So just imagine: Do you SEE why I can't get away from this orgy theory? I mean, yes, he next starts singing about dancing, but "dance" is often  metaphor for sex...

Nothing I can see but you when you dance/Feel good creeping up on you, so just dance: So it's kiiiiiinda a love song? Or just a physical attraction. After all, there's nothing about this person's character, just a lot of underlying sexual tension and hints at sweating bodies.

Feel good creeping up on you, so just dance/ All those things I shouldn't do, but you dance: Hmm... So he's seducing this person, even though he shouldn't? I'm going to make the assumption, then, that they're in a relationship and he's persuading them to cheat. Tut-TUT, Mr. Timberlake. Either that, or they're getting into some really kinky shit in their little sex party. 

Ain't nobody leavin' soon, so keep dancin': And this is where the big sex orgy comes (HAH!) back. Maybe he's being super creepy, like horror move, I-have-you-trapped-in-my-death-house-creepy, because a killer in a horror flick would say that kind of thing, "Nobody's getting out of here any time soon, MUAHAHAHA!" And it's not in the context of a breakup song, such as "D.O.A." by the Foo Fighters; the whole song is about the buildup of this positive "feeling." So no, not creepy. So... 

HE'S GOT YOU LOCKED IN HIS SEX DUNGEON!!! 

Or, you know, it could just be that the party is so good, no one is going to want to leave. But that's not as exciting. And also, if it's not meant to be a sinister command, the use of "nobody" indicates more than just one other person besides the singer. 

I can't stop the feeling/ So just dance (etc.): Meh, that's filler. Which is kind of pathetic, since the phrase "can't stop the feeling" is the NAME OF THE SONG. This gets at my main point of all of this, which will show up pretty soon.

Because honestly, the next verse is just more  bullshit about the ever-present-yet-unspecified "it." And another line about "control" that says  the singer really is a sex-crazed maniac with a bunch of prisoners in his sex dungeon, forcing them to participate in ritual and sacrificial sex acts involving animals and freshly dead bodies. 

If you're still with me, then here's the deal. I said at the beginning that this song is about so much random shit, that it's about nothing. And that's possible. But actually, I think the real problem with the lyrics to this song is that they're your basic, generic, "Top 20" dance anthem. It's a song about dancing, and that's it. Nothing more. It's topic and lyrical execution are dull, bland, and overdone in basically every genre, not just pop, per se, but also country, rap, hip-hop, rock, whatever. Everybody does it. Not everybody has a single that hits the charts, or does as well as this one, but this song has a lot to back it up: First and foremost, Justin Timberlake. That alone is enough to get it into the Top 10, because the vast majority of his fans will soak this up, regardless of content or quality, or whether it's up to his usual caliber of song or not. Second, since it is for a movie, Dreamworks (the company making said movie) will throw money at it to promote it (which, I'm sure, is  why  they let JT release the above video first, conveniently featuring the cast of the flick). And for a movie about gorram TROLLS to have a single that's radio-worthy, it couldn't actually be about the trolls. So it's about, as I said, dancing. 

But I think, since Justin Timberlake is more an artiste than just "artist," meaning he cares about his craft the way a person would care about their child (hence why there's such a gap between albums- he works long on them, perfecting and refining them, caressing them into the shape he thinks they deserve), he avoided a lot of the stereotypes in the usual "party rock" repertoire. 

And so perhaps why I don't overtly hate this song is because JT at least has enough class to keep his fucking hands out of the air (in  the lyrics... the video... well...), and never actually says shit like "party" and "fun" and doesn't talk about drinking. The last point is obviously because this song is for a kids' movie. But even so, avoiding "da club" and cars and hot babes, as well as that amazing baseline, makes this song at least tolerably close to his usual level of product. 

So I at least can say I still respect him. The song itself is disappointing as a fan of his,  and no, I don't keep listening when it comes on the radio. But I appreciate his attempt to raise the bar in what comes down to a basic dance anthem. And I just pray that, sooner or later, he comes out with an entire album of his own that makes this song a blip on the radar. 

*I say "throwback" because they play Bruno Mars's newest stuff... and Drake. Maybe I'm being picky, but I feel like "throwback" indicates at least ten years old... right?

**Or maybe I won't, given my penchant for getting excited about a Thing, "starting a series," and then forgetting about that Thing.

***After letting out my dog to pee, and taking a wee, myself.

****As one of my best friends said when we looked this up because a professor said she was "too erudite" in a gorram research paper, "I don't think a person can use 'erudite' without being erudite themselves..." ;)

People, Fate, and What You Do About It- Imagine Dragons, "Demons"

This song; this song. Every time it's on the radio while I'm driving, I belt it so loud my head and/or throat starts hurting when I'm done. And I cry more often than I don't. I was with some friends when I saw these guys live, and it was all I could do not to start weeping in the bleachers in Indy. I went out for karaoke with some friends for my birthday (it was kinda crappy), and we left before I got to sing this song, which is prolly just as well- I likely would have made a fool of myself, crying in front of a bunch of drunk assholes (not my friends, the other patrons that night, and the douchebag DJ). 

So what is this song about? I think it's about a person with a lot of shit in their past that's trying to be there for someone, knows they're capable of it, but is afraid of what will happen if things continue, and doesn't really want the relationship to be entirely reciprocal because they're afraid that opening up will scare the other person.

The lyrical structure is important: The verses are the singer telling the person they're singing to that they're loyal and wouldn't abandon them; that there isn't anything the person the song is directed at could do that would freak the singer out, and that, if anything, the singer can relate to the target of the song's own demons and struggles because they've been there before. The first part of the pre-chorus either time is about the conflicting desires to open up versus "hide the truth" from the object (the singer's internal struggle is demonstrated pretty clearly in how the first time they say they do want to "hide the truth," while the second time, they say they don't), while the second part is about people in general and how we're all messed  up,  no matter what we try to do. This leads into the chorus, which is the singer expressing their fear that they'll hurt the person to which they're singing because of their baggage and what that baggage has done to them. The bridge is the singer pointing out how they've had very little control over their life and what they've been through has made them the person they are, and an admission that they treasure the person to whom they're singing and need that person in order to feel whole or find that spark they're missing. 

Kids, that's me in a nutshell. With my friends, with my family, and how I would be if I had any sort of serious and meaningful romantic attachment. Hell, even a light, non-serious one.

See, like I've said before, all of the messed up stuff I've been through in my life, very little of it has been the result of something I did, like a mistake I made (I think maybe coming here for grad school was a mistake, but meh). The vast majority  has been things outside my control, things I didn't remotely ask for at all. And it's heavy stuff. It could scare people  away- and, in all honesty, it has. I had a few people I could say I loved decide to push me away because it's "intimidating" to be around me... because I "have so much going on, they don't want to get in the way."

Note these people, they had insisted on me opening up to them, pushed and poked and prodded, and then? When they got what they demanded, they didn't like it. And they pushed me out.* And I never asked them to fix things or actually help me- at most, all I expected was they'd listen, maybe stroke my hair for a while, and then we'd go play more video games. But no.

And so I've learned a lot of negative behaviors over time. I'm honest, sure, but I keep the stuff that's boiling within me inside, tucked away. So I guess you could say I'm lying through omission. Because I'm afraid if people know my truths, that I've been through this and that, that they'll assume I expect them to fix it, or that I'll be this huge-ass emotional burden on them. That I'd I don't know... suffocate them and do nothing but complain about my problems all the time. Of course that's never my intention- I try so hard to be anything BUT a burden or inconvenience. But I think too many people assume confiding in someone carries with it a veiled request for assistance. I know I'm un-help-able in most of the things I struggle with (nobody can fix my Daddy issues, nobody can un-rape me), I just don't know if anyone will be able to discern that I understand this and wouldn't ask them to fix me. I'm too used to being treated like crap.

Because I'm a doormat. I keep getting sucked in and stepped on.  I get abandoned in big and small ways all the time. People change plans without telling me, or send the text while I'm at work or something, then act all surprised when I'm finally able to answer. They tell the secrets I'm dumb enough to confide about to other people. They say on Wednesday we'll get together Friday, then Friday, I haven't heard what we're doing and they don't answer their phone. They spend more time making  fun of me than  being kind. They suck me dry. They never take initiative in any aspect of being a friend, then bitch about how we "never see each other" when we finally do get together (because I pestered and pushed and finally found a time that worked). 

And don't get me started on my sad excuse of a "love life." God, if I had a dollar for every guy that said he'd "get back to [me]" and disappeared, I'd be rich. For every guy that led me on until he got what he wanted (even forced it out of me violently), I'd also be doing pretty well. Combine the two, I'd just retire now at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. The "you're great, but..." speeches, I could start a trust fund for my future kids (assuming I meet someone not douchey someday).

People:
 

And so... I'm not used to being treated well by people. Anyone close enough to me knows this- they've seen me or heard me break down over something as small as them giving me something unsolicited for my birthday. When it comes to friends,  I'm so used to doing all the work that when someone else actually puts forth some effort, I react like they've just offered me their kidney. And I often underestimate how good to me people will be. For example, someone I knew I should have been okay with telling that I'm leaving grad school, I waited until yesterday to tell her because I thought she'd be mean about it- but she was more supportive than someone else I thought I could trust more.

So yeah, part of the problem is I'm a terrible judge of character. I'm empathetic, but that's not the same thing. I can tell how someone is feeling inside, but I'm bad at discerning people's motivations and goals with respect to me. And I think know that's at the root of a lot of the times I've been hurt by people- I didn't see them for what they really were, but rather what I hoped they'd be. Because I'm optimistic to a fault and my de-facto assumption is that a person I meet is kind and has the best of intentions and desires. Which may sound contradictory to the above, but really, they go together. I guess the idea they're good is what happens at first, then when it's time to get serious, I panic?

This doesn't mean I can't have close, deep relationships. I have a good group of people I can genuinely say I love, that I've made into my own "family." Here in Indiana, I met my roommate, a couple whose wedding I was in (actually, two, but the second is in August), another I'm helping plan theirs, a friend from undergrad that also ended up out here, another friend I met my first year here and that I, hands down, consider my brother. And I have a whole set that's about the same size out in Washington. And when I thought I was in a mutual relationship in the past, I grew to trust those guys and love them "like that," too (which, ultimately, was what led to me being hurt so badly, but that's not the point).

I feel too much. I think that's my big "demon." When I feel, I feel intensely. If you're a friend and you breach a certain threshold, I'd literally do anything for  you. If it's romantic between us, once I feel you care enough, I'd become hopelessly devoted to you.** 

So this is going to sound weird, but I've thought of my heart as two things at once. First, it's on my sleeve. As I've said before, I don't get mad, I get hurt. I'm easily hurt.

But when it comes to, I guess, uh, giving my heart away (?), I keep it locked in a secure room in the middle of a huge, multi-layered medieval keep with walls upon walls and a moat with  some crocodiles and maybe a dragon or two... Like I'm at the top of one of those typical "tower heist" type games where you go from level-to-level and  finally reach the end and get the prize (usually a woman) (which hey, makes sense, since I'm indisputably 100% female). Except instead of killing monsters and slicing skeletons, you're more proving that you're worthy through some test of valor or worth.

Dude. It's totally the Holy Grail in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Like this:

And  this:

Okay, okay, so I know it's kind of awful to compare my complete trust with the friggin' Holy Grail. But what I mean is, it takes a lot for me to really trust someone.

And on top of that, there's the fact that I don't want to be a burden. I like to relieve other people's burdens and troubles, not cause more for them. So often, even with the people about which I care the most, I don't open up for sheer lack of wanting to trouble them. Which makes me a really easy friend to have, because I'll help you all the time and like hardly ever ask, let alone expect, you to do the same for me. 

So what about fate? Well, I see the way I get treated BY PEOPLE as things that have happened to me. Add to that all of the icky circumstances that have less to do with people directly and more with just life in general- circumstances entirely out of my control that caused me grief or anxiety, pain or suffering. As the song states, then, "I say it's up to fate/ It's woven in my soul."

It is. My past influences who I am now. I can't separate myself from it, just as I can't pull any aspects of my identity away at a given time. All of my experiences build on each other and some compound and make  things hurt more- like when you're having a day where just every single little thing seems to go wrong, and by the end of it, spilling your soda makes you want to cry, when normally you'd just laugh or roll your eyes.

But the choices I make, to be a good person, to be happy whenever I can, to make the most  of a bad situation. Those are qualities that make me worth it, for friends or potential...something elses... Those are what matter, and what should matter to someone that I care about and want to care about me. I don't want them to take care of me, I'd rather they recognize that despite all of the reasons I have to be an asshole, I'm the opposite. That I'm warm, giving, kind, open, honest, sincere. That if you're part of my inner circle, I'd give you my kidney if you needed it. 

That, um, #humblebrag, I'm strong as fuck, and will be strong for you if you need me. Because I've persevered through all that bullshit in my past. Even when it hurts, I'm still kicking ass and chewing bubble gum. Except I'm all out of bubble gum. And anyway, I don't even like bubble gum all that much. I'm a gorram Joan of Ark, bitchez, and in the end, I'll come out swinging.***

Bring it. Seriously.

So I guess the one difference I have with the singer is that he presents "fate" in contrast with "what you make." As if they're mutually exclusive. And I think they go together. It's what you make of the fate you're given. How you deal with what fate puts in your path. It should read more like the Terminator slogan, "No fate but what we make."

I'm not in control of what happens to me, not often, but I'm in control/responsible for how I deal with that. Some things, I deal better than others.

So when it comes to my interpersonal relationships, this really just ends up meaning I'll be one of the most earnest, caring friends you'll ever have, or I'd be a damn good S.O., if that was the nature of the relationship. The hangup is, of course, I have trouble letting people in and returning the favor. I want to get better at this, I do. And I've done  it, because I've somehow been able to meet the "right" people for it. So it's possible, absolutely. It just takes time and patience. 

And, ultimately, I do need people. I'm a people person. Or, more bluntly, a codependent person. So I do keep seeking new relationships, even though I keep getting hurt, because sometimes, I don't. And I'd rather take the risk in seeking happiness with people than not and be unhappy as a result. I'll keep building my "family," and maybe someday be able to make a family, too. 

*A related song and potential entry would be "Never is a Promise" by Fiona Apple- that describes perfectly how my best college friend broke  my heart by telling me he'd rather not be friends with me because it was too hard being around someone with such a hard life. Also,  because his new gf didn't like me... uuuugh...

**This is actually pretty accurate for the times I fell in love and realized that, despite any and all interaction pointing to the contrary, it wasn't reciprocated. If it was mutual, this wouldn't really apply. I just couldn't help myself, because music.

***And not burned at the stake, by the way, just feel like I need to clarify that, do-do-dooooooo...