Mix Mastah

I'm currently ruminating on the power of a good mix cd - I don't know what it is, but some songs sound like shit against the backdrop of other songs, or they can be tied to a song that brings out the essence of what they truly are. Right now, my composition is a tried-and-true "Sad Bastard Mix" as I like to call it.
Sometimes I wonder what it is about the human condition that allows us to connect to music in such an intimate way. Some songs can lift me up to a dizzy euphoria, a music-high as I like to think of it, and some songs can break your heart and tear you open. I'm thinking today about the latter - those chilling, desperate, melancholy pieces that do us in and break us into tiny pieces. I can never decide what is better: to have heard the song, let it leave it's scarlet letter of melancholy, and try to keep on, or to avoid it altogether. This would be a wholly impossible task for me, as the majority of my music collection is filled with the broken hearts, the shattered hopes, the weak and the sick and the desperate. These are the ones who know how to get you where it hurts, kick you when you're down, and keep you on the ground. There's something to be said about them - they know how to appeal to that sadness in all of us. They know the chords that will remind you of what can't be, what we've lost, what we don't think we'll ever find. They speak to you - they speak to me. They tell me about my sadness - they whisper to me of my mother and my raw heart and cut me to the quick. And seeing as this sad bastard can always use some company, I take them with me. I whisper back to them. I tell them all about my sad little world and the things I'm trying to crawl through. Sometimes it even helps to know that someone is crawling with me.

Here is the songlist so far. If you know me, just ask me for a copy when I'm finished and you surely will get one.

THE SAD BASTARD MIX

Regina Spektor - Chemo Limo (I had a dream about this song last night. It's funny that Regina is too. This song is devastating to say the least. The human journey towards death is hardly ever a happy one - Regina's poor protagonist chooses to "go out in style," swapping her chemo treatments for a final ride with her family in a limousine. It speaks of the finality that approaches us all - we forget how important our lives are until we face its indefinite span. It claws at you, screaming and yelping and whimpering.)

The Frames - Suffer In Silence ( This Dublin band has made its name on this sort of thing - their songs are rarely ever happy, choosing instead to explore the realms between sadness and anger. These are true Irishmen. they're angry, they're desolate, they've given in to that melancholy which attempts to infiltrate us all. They offer themselves up to this weeping and give us a peice of that sadness to keep with us.)

Decemberists - Shankill Butchers (The Decemberists can write some seriously beautiful laments. This one comes from the tale of the Shankill Butchers, Irishmen who murdered Catholic men and women in extremely savage and brutal ways. You can get a pretty thorough idea if you wikipedia them. This is jangly and slow, sinister and dark. We can see the savage gleam in the eyes of those around us - and we had better beware.)

Ray Lamontagne - Lesson Learned (Ray knows sadness. He knows what it feels like, what it sounds like. It sound like his songs - he bottles his sadness and simplicity and offers it to anyone who will listen. This song speaks of his affair and the suffering it causes him and his wife. His voice speaks to us gently, but can devastate us, just as sadness. We feel it sneak in, it grabs us about the throat, and strangles our breath, beats the wind right out of us. I can't breathe when I'm listening to this song; I have to open my lungs wide and let the air drift in. I can't pull the air in: it's filled with sadness, too thick to pull in or push out. My shallow breaths and watery eyes are for Ray.)

Damien Rice - Delicate (The title says it all. This is a love song, simple and clear and true as a heart can be to its owner. It's also laden with that quiet strumming that makes one wish it were snowing. Snowing on the beach, standing in the cold and watcing the waves rush in to meet the shore. It's lonely and it's sad and it's pure. You kick the snow into the waves and watch it melt, soaking in the gray skies and bitter wind. Winter is beach season for the melancholy: we know what to do with it then. We watch it and we mourn for it. We fall in love with it.)

Iron & Wine - Passing Afternoon (This is the opposite season - it's warm and the air is thick, you sit at your window and watch the sunset. Everything is bathed in red and orange - and your heart, your blood, beats within you in shades of red and orange. Your hearts beats in time with the music and your blood sings the lead, pouring through you with memories and life. This is the song of our heartbeat.)

Jeremy Enigk - Don't Go Racing (A solitary song. The guitar comes warm and full, babbling to us in its own special way. Jeremy's voice is the ice, the perfect counterpart. We're all children dancing in the light of this song. We're carrying the world in our heads, lugging fear and sadness on our backs. This is the sing-a-long for the empty. It's about the broken heart of being old. And the aching limbs of childhood - swinging through time and through the grass, breathing everything in and being elated to have everything there before you. Why, then, do you feel like it's over though you've barely begun?)

Death Cab For Cutie - I Will Follow You Into The Dark (This is about true love. We keep everyone we love so close to us if we're wise enough, and we know that things don't last. We don't get to have forever with each other. All we can do is grip each other's hands tight, whisper i love yous, and step together into the world. And if we can't hold onto the ones we love, we wait for the time when we can step through the void to see them again.)

13Ghosts - Three Little Birds (We think we know this song. It's in the back of our minds - this bouncy little reggae ditty full of hope and carefree spirit. this isn't that song. It's a quieter soul speaking to us now. Whispering to us about the world, telling us the horrors of life...but we know it's all going to be okay, because she says every little thing is gonna be alright. It's hope in the face of infinite blackness. It's going to hurt, but we can make it through.)

Antje Duvekot - Judas (This is the song of the eternal outcast. The one on the playground who doesn't get to play. The one who waits to be spoken to. The one who doesn't get the life he wants. This song mourns for him. For the invisible souls we lose. For the ones we can't save.)

Ryan Adams - Starlite Diner (Ryan is waiting. He is waiting for the world to start turning. The whole world is paused, stuck in the moment it can't escape. He begins to sing, and suddenly, the world starts turning. But you can't feel it. It's turning is soft and slow, and we're all walking slowly through the night. He can't stop singing, because he has to keep the World spinning.)

Sufjan Stevens - John Wayne Gacy, Jr. (This horrifies me. It's the song of the dead. Their families. Their pain. Their secrets. It cries to us from somewhere within our souls and begs us to listen. We can only look beneath to see what's really there.)