Sad Songs to Spiral To

by editor Michele Catalano

Tired and wired, we ruin too easy Sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leaveThe National, “Apartment Story”

That was, at one time, a song I’d sing quietly to myself in the dead of winter, a reminder that we tackled everything together, even long winter days. It was of great comfort to me, a warm blanket on a cold day. Now it feels wistful, like a failure of sorts, a reminder of things lost.

I turn to music when my emotions get the best of me. In order to really feel my feelings, I need a soundtrack. Happiness, sadness, anger, melancholy. Whatever the emotion, it gets a song or five.

I’ve been enveloped in sadness the past week, and my musical choices have reflected that. I’ve been accused of wallowing, and, well, it’s a fair accusation. In my defense, wallowing is good for my soul; it allows me to bring my feelings to the surface, instead of keeping them deep down, where they will fester and manifest themselves as a small ball of despair that sits in my stomach.

Nobody said it was easy

It’s such a shame for us to part Nobody said it was easy No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh, take me back to the start

Coldplay, “The Scientist”

I listen to this over and over again, choking up at “no one ever said it would be this hard,” collapsing in sobs by the end of the song. And that’s okay. It’s cathartic, and catharsis is something I really need sometimes.

I go through my album collection and pick out the saddest songs, the ones with despondent lyrics and morose melodies. I look for breakup songs but also songs that deal with a vague sadness. The sadness does not have to be named; it just has to permeate my soul. I prefer to listen to them on my turntable, rather than streaming them on my computer because the sound fills the living room, laying waste to the emptiness that threatens to envelop me.

I play “I’m Not Ok” by My Chemical Romance at a loud volume while cleaning. I sit down for Brand New’s “Play Crack the Sky,” a song I’ve always felt in my bones. I seek comfort in the music of Kevin Devine. I seek to shed necessary tears during American Football’s “Never Meant.”

I hope it stays dark forever I hope the worst isn’t over And I hope you blink before I do And I hope I never get sober

- Mountain Goats, “No Children”

Some songs just hit different when all of a sudden you’re in the precarious situation described within them. I’ve always loved this song, but held it a safe distance, as I did with most breakup songs. Now when tunes like this come crashing down on me, I sing them with fervor, let them overtake me. I listen to Elliott Smith and Frightened Rabbit and Bright Eyes and let the despondency take over; I listen to Radiohead’s “Let Down” and sing defiantly about growing wings. Hysterical and useless, indeed.

There’s old songs mixed in with the newer fare. “One Less Bell to Answer” and “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me,” the first song I ever cried to. I switch gears and sob once again to the last three minutes of Weezer’s “Only In Dreams.” I almost laugh as the White Stripes sing “I Don’t Know What to Do With Myself” at me.

I need all this. It’s a way of coping, a way of expressing my sorrow, my anger, my despair. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve never known what to do with my feelings, besides wallow in them. I almost enjoy the sadness because it’s keeping me from the next stage of wallowing: the anger. 

I am not alone. There are millions of us who break down at the mere mention of certain songs. I asked my followers on Bluesky what one song made them really weep. Some examples:

Srah: “You’ll Be In My Heart” by Phil Collins “When destiny calls you You must be strong, I may not be with you, but you’ve got to hold on.” It made me cry after my mom died, but it makes me cry even more now that I’m a mom myself and can see it from both sides.

Dom: Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy’s “I See A Darkness,” a song I’ve always listened to at my loneliest, with lyrics that I’ve always thought about as a despairing confession from a good friend who’s just looking for someone, for something that doesn’t eat at that loneliness but could maybe replace it.

John: igur Rós, “Glósoli” Goosebumps just typing it. I’ve wept every time they played it live, always cry watching the video. Incredible.

Sam: “Floating in the Forth” by Frightened Rabbit. I have a whole emotional journey associated with the Frightened Rabbit discography, but this one really hits me like a ton of bricks.

Kirby:"$20" by Low from their record C’mon - it’s just such a beautiful love song and beautiful love songs make me bawl like a baby. especially Low love songs, and especially after Mimi’s passing (RIP Mimi Parker).

Ryan: “Death of an Heir of Sorrows (Silver Jews)” With his passing, it feels more and more like (David Berman) wrote a song for us to sing about him.

Erin: Harvest Moon by Neil Young, and I’m not entirely sure why or when it became the vessel for all of my hopes for the future but then when we played it at my wedding, before I walked down the aisle, I was just weeping. Even thinking about it now, I’m tearing up!

I take these suggestions and many others and pull out some records. I need to vent, I need to purge some emotions. I need a good cry.

My living room once again fills with the music of a Mountain Goats song, about the things we do for love, love, love. I sit on my couch and let it envelop me, let the tears happen, let the catharsis work its way through my body. I’ll be done here eventually. I’ll have let the despair run its course. But until then, there’s emotions to be had and music to have them to, and I’m going to let it last as long as it has to.

It hasn’t been my day For a couple years What’s a couple more?

- Jawbreaker, “Accident Prone”

Indeed.

I Have That on Vinyl is a reader supported publication. If you enjoy what’s here please consider donating to the site’s writer fund: venmo // paypal. Tips go toward paying writers, an editor and for site maintenance, You can also join the Patreon.