Skip to Content, Navigation, or Footer.
The Post - Athens, OH
The independent newspaper covering campus and community since 1911.
The Post

Amplified Observations: The comfort food of music fills the emptiness failure leaves

If you ever catch yourself deciding what music to send to your speakers, the choices that spring to mind arise from a nearly subconscious place, like deciding what to eat from an open refrigerator.

The endless environmental and emotional factors that go into selecting either a song or a snack rivals the unpredictability of two hours spent clicking on YouTube’s suggested video sidebar.

Creating a playlist or food tray for a party context leads to songs you think other people might enjoy, but deciding what to listen to by yourself often takes on different aims, especially when confronted by the stress of finals and job searches.

During bedroom listening sessions, the mind directs its attention to songs that do less to entertain and distract but rather offer feelings of belonging, comfort and catharsis. Music does more than fuel singing, dancing and ephemeral heartbreak. Like any other artform, it occasionally fuels the existential will to go forward in the face of failure and unmet expectations.

The right music succeeds in serving up a plate of comfort food to mind.

In certain throes of inadequacy, gravitating toward songs with the elements of Radiohead or Beach House can feel automatic. Along with rich, filling instrumentals, both of these bands incorporate lyrics creating catharsis toward individual failures as in Radiohead’s “Let Down,” a song whose narrator licks the wounds of defeat, or “Optimistic,” in which Thom Yorke assures the listener, “You can try the best you can/The best you can is good enough.”

The ambiguously crafted lyrics of dream pop duo Beach House also relate a sense compensation for feelings of dread from life’s relentless obstacles with frontwoman Victoria Legrand singing, “Something happens and it’s not enough” on “Other People” and “Jack of all trades/Master of none” on “Master of None.”

Each of these four songs delivers the same sort of solidarity that assures the listener knows feelings of defeat exist on a universal level not merely in his or her head. Like finally sitting down for a meal after a busy day, earnest lyrics of understanding hold the power to reinvigorate the spirit, no matter how it ended up low.

In the search for balance, everyone has dealt with painful moments of reckoning strike after some sort of personal disappointment or from the expectations of others. To ignore the expectations of others follows the best course of action toward composure — after all, you’re the one who has to live with your decisions— but overcoming one’s own setbacks takes a greater amount of mental labor.

In The Beatles’ 1965 song “Think For Yourself,” a testament to independent thought, George Harrison advises his audience “The future still looks good/And you’ve got time to rectify/All the things that you should.” Many songs echo this sentiment of ample hope and time to avoid ending up in that fearful place of entrapment.

Yet even in its most dejected state, the mind still searches for consolation in places like music, whether or not the singer only recounts moments failure without a bent of hope. The therapeutic value remains the same.

“I Know It’s Over,” one of the most popular songs by The Smiths’,  features the refrain “Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head,” yet the line still releases the right chemicals for emotional solace. Likewise, any of Leonard Cohen’s most depressive numbers such as “Dress Rehearsal Rag,” “Last Year’s Man” or “Bird on the Wire” capture the feeling of the bottom so well it brings recognition of how far away it actually lies.

The catalog of the late David Bowie often threads together an impression of redemption and restoration of passion. His titular refrain on “Always Crashing In the Same Car” embodies the wasted effort of trying and failing in an irritating and seemingly unbreakable cycle, almost like an addiction leading to hopelessness and withering. Yet, songs with this awareness tend to make an otherwise unconquerable goal more feasible and ultimately provide strength.

We all return to our personally meaningful music that works like tryptophan to sedate our thoughts when we fail to accomplish a task. Its effectiveness proves that instead of giving up or engaging in the futile act of placing blame, the best thing to do is put on headphones and remind ourselves, as Bowie screams in “Rock ‘N’ Roll Suicide,” that, “You’re not alone/You’re watching yourself but you’re too unfair.”

In an instance of failure, of all the emotions, empathy and understanding taste the most savory. And music can provide them in each bite.

Luke Furman is a junior studying journalism at Ohio University. Please note that the views and opinions of the columnists do not reflect those of The Post. Do you think music masks the feeling of failure? Let Luke know by tweeting him @LukeFurmanLog or emailing him at lf491413@ohio.edu.

Powered by SNworks Solutions by The State News
All Content © 2016-2024 The Post, Athens OH