Melancholy and the infinite sadness
September 17, 2004 | 12:00am
There is something about a sad song that will make anyone feel lonely. The slow, melancholic melody never fails to remind you that – as clichéd as it sounds – your heart’s been broken at one point or another. The progression of notes and chords makes you realize that you let your defenses down long enough to allow something foreign to permeate your soul and fill the missing space, only to leave it empty again and leave you dependent and wanting.
It doesn’t have to be love. In this era of teenage angst, almost anything can induce sadness. It could even be nothing. In my case, there are certain songs that are beautiful enough to put me to tears. I posted an incomplete 58-item list of these "Infinitely Sad" songs on my journal and removed it soon after, to the dismay of some of my friends.
Given the incredible amount of free time I usually have at my disposal, I couldn’t help thinking about those 58 sad songs and why they meant so much to me. I didn’t understand how I could possibly enjoy listening to three-to 10-minute reminders of all the bad experiences I’d been through over the past 17 years. Maybe I’m just masochistic, I thought, playing Tetris as I listened to my MP3s.
It hit me after countless failed attempts at beating my mother’s top score. I was listening to A Perfect Circle’s 3 Libras for the nth time in almost three years, and hearing Maynard James Keenan sing the poignant, heartrending lyrics gave me my answer.
These sad songs make me feel less alone. This might seem like a contradiction to the first sentence, but it isn’t. 3 Libras remains, to this day, my favorite song of all time because I can completely relate to the bitterness it conveys. (Or at least the bitterness I think it conveys, because all songs are open to personal interpretation.) Threw you the obvious/And you flew with it on your back/A name in your recollection/Thrown down among a million same/You don’t see me at all.
Someone else has felt these feelings. Someone else has been hit, hollowed and sucked dry. Someone else has known the sheer exasperation of anonymity and insignificance. Someone had to, otherwise this song wouldn’t have been written. Songs like these make me feel like I share part of myself with the rest of the world, if only because there are others out there who love them as much as I do.
This song is the anthem of my life, and every time I hear it, I dedicate it to the years I spent as the weird kid, wondering why I didn’t fit in, despite the effort. I dedicate it to every silly crush I have ever had, to every beautiful face and every shining, unrealistic ideal in my mind. (They don’t see me at all. Oh well.)
These are the teenage angst years, for some, at least. Music will only begin to really matter from age 14 onwards, when you’re desperately in search of your own identity. As you try to find yourself, you can’t help looking for someone or something to reach out to that understands the utter confusion and lack of direction, the Infinite Sadness. Thankfully, I am almost past this stage. I’m beginning to stop worrying about fitting in; I’d rather be myself. I’ve stopped caring about being liked by people who don’t like me; it’s their loss. But I have not stopped loving the music that defined the past three years of my life.
Listed here, in no particular order, are eight of the most beautiful, Infinitely Sad songs I know. Some of them might bring back memories, some of them might create new memories, and some are just great for listening to on rainy days, for thinking and reminiscing. (Who decreed that lists have to come in multiples of five and ten? I give you eight!)
1) 3 Libras, A Perfect Circle
2) Njósnavélin, Sigur Rós
The band is from Iceland. So, don’t expect to understand the lyrics. There are no lyrics, anyway. The music alone is enough to give you ideas of what Iceland might look like in the winter: a beautiful mix of snow, dark, starry skies, silence, and dreams.
3) Change (In the House of Flies), Deftones
It’s my song for that moment of complete frustration when someone I love is standing in front of me and I no longer know who he or she is. I watched a change in you. It’s like you never had wings.
4) The Scientist, Coldplay
Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard. I’m going back to the start.
5) Fake Plastic Trees, Radiohead
Fake Plastic Trees in one word? Exhaustion. Just being tired of having to be right by society’s standards, and how tragic it is that we’re all turning into machines who think the same, or at the very least, feel constrained to do so. It’s about how hard it is to be alienated, how difficult it is to fit in. If I could be who you wanted all the time. If I had a peso for every time I thought that, I’d have an iPod. Or two.
6) Stand By Me, Oasis
Stand by me. Nobody knows the way it’s gonna be. It’s you and me against the unpredictable world, and I implore you not to let go.
7) Schism, Tool
Those who are familiar with this song might be surprised that it even made it onto the list of 58, and with good reason. It’s a bit loud. The band almost broke up at one point, and this was when Schism was written. Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion between supposed lovers/brothers. The title itself means division, and if you don’t like the music, read the lyrics. Amazing.
8) Ana’s Song (Open Fire), Silverchair
Ana’s Song can’t be explained. The song was supposedly about anorexia, but it has come to have different meanings for everyone who has listened to it.
Open fire, on my needs designed, on my knees for you.
BrandSpace Articles
<
>