It’s been nearly 20 years of this, only now i decide to write it all down.

You’d think i’d be better at talking about it by now, but i still find myself unable to hit the nail on the head sometimes on what makes the right song at the right song feel so perfect. Here, i plan to write about the songs and artists that have stuck with me over the years. Songs that can bring me back to yesterday or five years before that. Songs that make me think of better times, or in some cases worse. How is that certain artists can craft such soundscapes and stories that can move complete strangers?

This could become a brutalizing journey through my emotional past, or it could get pretentious. i aim for somewhere in between.

For this post, i searched “song” in my iTunes and put the 92 results on shuffle. Started with Unwritten Law’s “Celebration Song,” went to a Tori Amos cover of The Cure’s “Lovesong.” Then “Flor D’Luna” off of a collection of Carlos Santana love songs, then Brand New’s chillingly emo (a personal favorite of mine) “The No Seatbelt Song.”

take me and break me
and make me strong like you
i’ll be forever grateful to this you
it’s only you, beautiful
or i don’t want anyone
if i can choose
it’s only you.

Well now, what does all that mean? i’ve been reading Jesse Lacey’s brain here for awhile now (est. spring of 9th grade?, so six years ago?) and to me, he’s a desperate man. A poet of sorts, a talented lyricist, but a desperate man. When i first listened to this song, though, i remember being struck by it’s honesty, it’s laid-out-on-the-table hopeless romance.

How many times i have sung this to myself, high school lovers in my head. Those were the days. But like Zeppelin put it–The Song Remains The Same. Funny how words so direct, so pointed, can morph depending on who is listening, and where in their life they’re at. Guess that’s the beauty of it all.

As many will tell you–those are the songs that matter. Anyone can put an album on the Internet and get someone to listen to it, but if you don’t mean it, if you don’t think about…if you’ve not felt what you’re saying, i don’t think it’s gonna fly.

Let’s not forget the artistry out there. Knock top 40 music as much as you like, but someone wrote that song and meant those words, and for that, i like to at least pause and give them reflection.

Take that fucking song i hear every two seconds at the restaurant, “Bleeding Love” by Leona Lewis. God is it annoying after awhile. Some music critic dude called her the next Mariah Carey, and while she’s talented, i don’t think it’s wise to predict someone’s career–i try not to do it when talking about bands or artists or whatever. But despite it’s schreechy, sad chorus and unbelievably dramatic chorus, those words are real.

you cut me open and i
keep bleeding
keep bleeding love.

Feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it? When you’re pushed away by someone you love.

Kind of depressing, really.

Also on the list is the Ewan McGregor’s “Your Song” from Moulin Rouge–I went through a huge MR phase in junior high, and it’ll always be one of my favorites. Now, this is beautiful song–Bernie Taupin was the man. My dad used to tell me every time i played “Tiny Dancer” that he wrote it about his wife, and Elton John composed the rest. This setting is so indulgent too-with the operatic interlude, the sweeping symphony..see for yourself:

It’s so honest, so lovely. Taupin was effectively sweet in all the right kind of ways. Right from the getgo–“It’s a little bit funny/this feeling inside”–very satisfying and sweet.

Anyway, this one was a rant. Except much more concise descriptions in the future.

We’re just getting started.