Thursday, August 21, 2008

Turn 'em on, turn on those sad songs

Today I woke up sad.

This has been an unfortunate pattern of late, but I am leaving town in less than a week and it's finally sunk in. Deeply. To the point where I was playing sad, sad songs on the iTunes. Break-up music, unrequited love music, saying good-bye music, praying to God for redemption music. It was all there on my iPod, all under a playlist titled, "Sad."

That's right, I had taken time out to create a playlist specifically for moods such as mine this morning, when the only thing that would make me feel better was hearing how cruddy everyone else's life was. And feel better I did, because how else could I react to Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah" than to rejoice in the beauty and simplicity of his recording?

And then Alison Krauss came on with "Ghost in this House" and I was positively sprightly. (Sing it, Alison, sing about those hearts on fire.) So I started to wonder, what is it about feeling sad that feels so good? I recalled an old song by Elton John which speaks to that exact question.

If someone else is suffering enough to write it down
When every single word makes sense
Then it's easier to have those songs around
The kick inside is in the line that finally gets to you
and it feels so good to hurt so bad
And suffer just enough to sing the blues

Thing is, if you know this song, it's actually quite upbeat. In fact it sounds nothing like what it describes. Which led me to another imponderable, namely, why is it that songs about sadness don't themselves sound sad? To wit, "Breakin' Up is Hard to Do." You try to keep from smiling when you sing to yourself, "Doobie doobie dum doobie do dum dum, doobie doobie dum doobie do dum dum..."

See?

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Poll: what's your favorite sad song? My playlist can be expanded, after all.

UPDATED: I've added YouTube links to the songs I've mentioned above. They're all worth going to, if only to get a taste of some fantastic music. But if you're really pressed for time, just go to Alison Krauss. Adorable.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

How about "February"? Or, perhaps more apt for your current situation, "The End of the Summer"? *hugs*