MUSIC | GALE IS LORA’S TWIN
The Official emoshitstorm Music Questionnaire — Gale Straub Edition
Eeyore responds belatedly with a depression mix
I’m not as expressive as I would like to be. Words get trapped in my head. Feelings circle there, too, before settling in the bottom of my stomach or curling up in my hands. I feel shame when I think of the rosacea slowly staining my cheeks and nose; how the body betrays the mind without so much as a whisper.
Healthy, right?!
Too often, I task myself with the sole burden of processing my emotions. But I don’t do it alone, really. There are a number of songs that help me to navigate through.
In April, my twin Lora Straub Brocone posted the emoshitstorm music questionnaire challenge, asking for the details of folks’ “deep in the feels” lineup. And despite her pointed goading, I did not respond. Yes, work has been extremely busy the last couple of months. (I hate calling work busy. It’s not a badge I want to wear comfortably. This article explains where I’m at better than I can.)
But the truest reason is that I’ve been listening to my depression mix on repeat, the 30+ song answer to one of Lora’s questions. These are the songs that say what I cannot, and keep me company when life resembles one long spell of highway hypnosis.
When I am deep in my feels, lyrics are everything. If I love a song, I couldn’t tell you if a song had drums in it, but I can recite the lyrics like poetry (because most of the time they are).
I can only listen to Wilco’s “How to Fight Loneliness” when I’m feeling bummed.
The dissonance is too strong if I’m in a good mood, like Jeff Tweedy is singing in a different language.
How to fight loneliness
Smile all the time
Shine your teeth ’til meaningless
Sharpen them with lies
There’s so much packed into the spare lyrics: the pain of being lonely around other people, the effort that goes into pretending, the flattening effect it can have over time. And of course, Tweedy acknowledges the bad decisions we make, the vices we use to numb and distract ourselves from feelings of alienation.
And the first thing that you want
Will be the last thing you ever need
Err, the bad decisions I make. The vices I use to numb and distract myself. My own are typically wolves in sheep’s clothing: work, perfectionism, TV…but they have sharp teeth just the same.
The song starts with a big promise (how to fight loneliness) and gives you a foolproof recipe for staying lonely. But miraculously I feel the opposite of alone when I’m listening to it. (Thanks Lora, for introducing me to this one!)
I was 33 when I heard my 9 year old self in The National’s “Rylan”…boom, instant nostalgia.
It took me a bit to warm up to I Am Easy to Find, The National’s eighth studio album. But in time, it’s become one of the band’s albums to which I relate most strongly. And no song on it more than “Rylan”:
Is it easy to keep so quiet?
Everybody loves a quiet child
These lyrics transport me up and down the back roads that lead to my parent’s camp in Maine. The trees are a blur of green on either side of my car. I’m driving, alone again, and “Rylan” comes on. I’m well into my 30’s, but I am still a quiet child, trying to keep her face placid, resting one hand on top of the other.
Is it easy to live inside yourself?
I already answered that question at the top of this essay. At least I think I did. I’m always getting told that I’m not clear enough, or that I need to explain how I got from point A to point B. No, it’s not easy to live inside myself. No, everyone does not love a quiet adult.
Stay with me among the strangers
Change your mind and nothing changes
Don’t let show any emotion
When you climb into the ocean
I don’t really know what this song means, beyond what I pull from it. I hear Matt Berninger singing about restraint (masking?)— and how it’s simultaneously valued and punished by society. Might as well be yourself, on the inside at least. And find a “stranger” who gets you.
These days, The National’s “Tropic Morning News” is getting me out of my funks.
Yes, I love The National. That, a preference for bitter beers, and a Wellbutrin prescription are what I have in common with the sad dads.
“Tropic Morning News” is written by Matt Berninger, his wife Carin Besser, and his bandmate Aaron Dessner. In a lot of ways, it’s the antithesis to “Rylan,” and it mirrors how I’ve been feeling since closing a business I’d spent several years building.
I didn’t even think you were listening
I wasn’t ready at all
To say anything about anything interesting
In the weeks and months since wrapping this big creative project, I’ve been retreating: brushing off catch up calls with old colleagues, lurking on social media, thinking about starting a newsletter or even a podcast but not doing anything about it (nor — and this is key — having any ideas).
After the release of First Two Pages of Frankenstein (The National’s 9th album in 2023), Matt Berninger talked about how, before he wrote it, he thought he’d never get on stage again. He went a year without being able to write a song. In interviews, he sometimes danced around it, but the good journalists encouraged him to speak the truth: he was depressed.
I was suffering more than I let on
The tropic morning news was on
There’s nothing stopping me now
From saying all the painful parts out loud
This is a song that gives me hope for being on the other side of burnout and its twin, creative blocks. Or at least a better understanding that creativity swings open and shut, and all gradients in between. I don’t think there’s an other side of depression, but when I hear Berninger sing that there’s nothing stopping him from “saying all the painful parts out loud” my heart does a little leap.
My closest friends would be surprised I love Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream”
Lora Straub Brocone made a point of saying this questionnaire isn’t for “one-note Eeoyres” (shots fired?!) so here is the antithesis to that. This is a song that would get even Eeoyre’s tail wagging. I listen to it when I’m working out, on a road trip and need to stay awake, or getting ready when no one else is in the house.
I was no “teenage dream,” so I love escaping into the fantasy. It’s probably why I watch now classic romcoms like 10 Thing I Hate About You and even tuned into She’s All That on a plane yesterday. I wrote in a previous essay that while it’s kind of annoying that Rachel Lee Cook was obviously beautiful before she took her glasses off — there’s something about watching an arty, awkward teen drop all her books in the hallway that brings me right back.
Spoon’s “Believing is Art” is my creative manifesto
Ok, that might be an overstatement. But this song starts strong:
Things everybody would say
Believing is hard
Believing is art
I love the idea that before even putting pen to page, or paintbrush to canvas, eye to camera, [insert cheesy artistic image here]…you need to have faith. Not the religious kind (unless that’s your jam), rather the courage that creativity requires.
I said that this is a call
Yeah it might be a call
If the world could sit tight for one night
For me, a lot of that courage lies in paying attention — and listening. So that Spoon is saying here in the definitive that “this is a call” and then backtracking to “it might be a call” feels right. Inspiration is fleeting. “If the world could just sit tight…” if only there was more time to think to let the ideas coalesce. And of course, so much of art comes from the last few lines of the song:
Things everybody should know
The end will come slow
And love breaks your heart
Woof. This is a long questionnaire Lora!
If I keep going, this will be truly unreadable. So maybe there will be a part two. Or maybe this is it. Thanks for the invitation to sit and listen for a bit. I feel like I know myself a little better. And I may have even managed to express myself.
