Amidst the extraordinary chaos of our world right now, I’ve turned to music more than ever. As we all try to avoid playing a part in spreading covid-19, we are being forced into an unnatural stillness that most of us find daunting and uncomfortable. I have been sent home from college, cooped up at home, waiting for my coronavirus test results, and trying to keep up with school work while taking care of my siblings as my mom is sick and my dad is taking care of my grandparents. The world and I are feeling trapped between emotionally drained and physically constrained, and worst of all, lonely. But this phenomenal historical moment has taught me that my best coping mechanism still works. Music is a tool for our sanity to survive this epidemic, because, as I have realized, we actually go through mini quarantines all the time. In regular life, through the course of normal mood swings or reactions to rejection, heartbreak, loss or betrayal, we purposely self isolate to grieve or process alone. During these times of natural solitude, we feel, for better or worse, like the outside world can’t touch us, and we can’t properly interact with it. I’m a fervent believer in trying to sit through these feelings of distress, and looking ahead to these next few months, I felt like I had to do some disaster planning for my inner thoughts.
So, I went through my archive of music to collect some three-minute bites of wisdom to weave together into a playlist. As I scrolled, performing the occasionally helpful talent of recalling song lyrics very quickly, I began to realize that so much of the music I already listen to is so relatable to the pain of social distancing. I recognize that the suffering experienced by hundreds of thousands of patients and healthcare workers fighting on the front lines across the world is incomparable, so I’ll just stick to what I know, which is that those of us who are lucky enough to be out of the hospital are still experiencing a very strange shift in our lives. I’m glad to offer my antidote, which is a mix of 56 ‘Quarantunes’ that stood out as simultaneous sources of entertainment and resources for the discomfort of solitude. It’s time to face the music, as they say.
These songs about loneliness in different forms can be unexpectedly therapeutic. They show that these emotions we’re all experiencing happen every day, in normal life. Yes, the overall experience of this worldwide pandemic brings an unprecedented complex of emotions and turmoil. But in this uncertainty, I find it somewhat comforting to know that what we’re feeling has been felt before in kaleidoscopically different ways. This playlist provides almost four hours of acoustic activity for doing everything or nothing at all. Do with it what you will, but if you plan on multitasking, a clever line or two might break your concentration. This collection of songs is supposed to make you consider your own experiences through the lens of a musician and lyricist. If I could see music, if hearing a song was like staring at art or putting on a pair of funky sunglasses, it’d be some form of iridescence because music is in perpetual motion. Its temporal quality allows it, in my experience, to provide almost a timeline for my emotional experience of each song. For example, if I’m sad, so I listen to ‘Funeral’ by Phoebe Bridgers I will undoubtedly become sadder over the course of the song. But in exactly 3 minutes and 52 seconds, the song will change, and at approximately that same time, I’ll wipe away my tears and carry on. It’s almost like a timed experience of emotion that heightens the feeling of it through the music itself. Beyond that, hearing a revered artist put my exact feelings into words makes music an endless source of validation for when I just don’t want to talk about it. This is not meant to be prescriptive, and I know that listening to a great song unfortunately won’t cure any problems. But it can help with our reactions to them, and in a time of great uncertainty, hopefully help deepen our relationship with going inside of our interior worlds and confronting what’s really there. Through the rest of this post, I want to show some of the key lyrics that made me pick these songs for this particular moment. The last several weeks have left me strung between claustrophobia, daydreaming, boredom, irritation, pining for my previous reality, and of course, stuck in my head. So, I’m choosing to let these songs rattle around my cranial cavity, because they’re teaching me how to survive these feelings, no matter how uncomfortable they are.
‘If We Were Vampires’ by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
“It’s knowing that this can’t go on forever
Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone
Maybe we’ll get forty years together
But one day I’ll be gone
Or one day you’ll be gone
If we were vampires and death was a joke
We’d go out on the sidewalk and smoke”
The opening line of this chorus can be read as a double entendre in light of our current circumstances. “This” is the relationship, but to me, it also represents the state of the world right now. The song itself describes short-term grief in such a beautiful and unique way. This is a “break” song, not a “break-up” song, the former of which is extremely relevant to the many romantic partners and friends separated by the quarantine. So yes, we will have to spend some days alone, and yes, these days can feel endless, but they are not. Many things are uncertain, but I do know that death is not a joke, and that I am not a vampire, so for now I’ll be staying away from sidewalks and compromising my lungs.
“You Bloody Mother F***ing A**hole” by Martha Wainwright
“And you have no idea
No idea how it feels to be on your own
In your own home
With the fucking phone
And the mother of gloom
In your bedroom
Standing over your head
With her hand in your head”
Narrative songs are a favorite of mine. In my mind, I’ve coupled this badass song with ‘Night Shift’ by Lucy Dacus, which also tells a story about anger and grief and culminates with electrifying vocals. If it wasn’t obvious from the title, this is a provocative song, which is precisely why I picked it, as well as its references to the pressures of home life. When I overthink a frustrating situation for too long on my own, I can get caught in a spiral of anger where I can’t let the feeling go, and then make myself feel bad for being that state. A play of this song or two on full volume, and the defiant words and emphatic music give my mind the space to validate my anger without having to outburst on someone I care about. Sometimes all it takes to let go of a negative feeling is to hear someone express with such intense emotion that they have been there too.
‘The Bug Collector’ by Haley Heynderickx
This tune about coming across various creepy crawlies inside your home is surprisingly soothing. It’s lyrics are a reminder of how interesting and strange it can be when the wild and organic meets the domestic. As I’m currently self quarantining in Florida, I’ve encountered a fair few household pests, and this song somewhat normalizes my often anxiety-inducing interactions with them.
‘Wish You Were Here’ by Pink Floyd
How I wish, how I wish you were here
We’re just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Pink Floyd echoing this universal sentiment is not a pain reliever, but it does pose the theory that if David Gilmour can survive the ache of needing someone who’s not around, maybe so can I. I miss my friends. I miss school. I feel a bit like I’m swimming in a fishbowl of my brain, and am also stuck in the fishbowl of my house. It’s starting to feel rather un-empathetically cruel to limit fish in such tiny containers, constantly looking out the window at a world that could kill them if they left the safety of their tank. Thankfully, we aren’t goldfish. One day in a vague and distant future we’ll be able to leave our homes, run around at festivals, take our kids to school, and hug each other like we’ll never let go again. We’ll try our best to get our most vulnerable members of the population the necessary resources. Hopefully we’ll find the time to make joy out of this long wait and accomplish those things we never thought we’d have the time to do. For the moment, I’ll be in my room, cocooning with my headphones in, the way I know best, and wishing for some good.
Anthem 