Prompt: "A song about death"
Selected by Joe
"Your Ex-Lover Is Dead"
Stars
Set Yourself on Fire, 2004
There was a time in my life when this song made me extremely sad. This was winter break 2008-09. I was out of one relationship and thought there might be a chance at another (there wasn't). Santa Claus was still giving me a few gifts at that age, and Set Yourself on Fire was one of them. "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" spoke to me in a way that it only could to a young adult who had just left his teenage years behind maybe four weeks prior. I was a sad boi, and something about this song spoke to me. It was about comings and goings. It was about finding peace in the cycles of one's lifetime. It was about cherishing every moment, even those moments that bring you pain.
"I'm not sorry I met you,
I'm not sorry it's over,
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save."
I thought that was poignant because during that time in my life, I felt nothing but regret and loneliness, and this provided an alternate path. It gave meaning to that loneliness. It gave me hope that maybe I had to be lonely now so that I could have the space to take a look at myself and really work hard on some shit and make this space ready for when someone who actually wants to share it comes along, I'd be truly ready.
If the best part about music is that you get to extract your own meaning from it whenever you want, then the next best thing about it is that the meaning you extract is malleable, and can easily change over time without penalty. I heard "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" during a time when all I could think about was the death of certain parts of myself and my life, and I needed it. I hear "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" now without those same needs. And yet it has a measurable impact on me, still.
Because now I hear my past in this song, as opposed to my present. I remember getting drunk at John D.'s house that same winter break and telling Mandy B. how I've been listening to and crying to this song and her telling me that she thought that was just about the dumbest thing she'd ever heard. Here's what's dead: those years in my life when going to my friend's house on a Tuesday night and getting drunk and sleeping over was a totally normal thing. Here's what's dead below the surface: listening to a song because it helps heal the pain.
From that death, new life. Joy and contentment. Stability and companionship. Tough work and just reward. Here's what I hear when I hear "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" now: a reminder of what happened that led me here, to this place.
"I'm not sorry I met you,
I'm not sorry it's over,
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save."
I thought that was poignant because during that time in my life, I felt nothing but regret and loneliness, and this provided an alternate path. It gave meaning to that loneliness. It gave me hope that maybe I had to be lonely now so that I could have the space to take a look at myself and really work hard on some shit and make this space ready for when someone who actually wants to share it comes along, I'd be truly ready.
If the best part about music is that you get to extract your own meaning from it whenever you want, then the next best thing about it is that the meaning you extract is malleable, and can easily change over time without penalty. I heard "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" during a time when all I could think about was the death of certain parts of myself and my life, and I needed it. I hear "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" now without those same needs. And yet it has a measurable impact on me, still.
Because now I hear my past in this song, as opposed to my present. I remember getting drunk at John D.'s house that same winter break and telling Mandy B. how I've been listening to and crying to this song and her telling me that she thought that was just about the dumbest thing she'd ever heard. Here's what's dead: those years in my life when going to my friend's house on a Tuesday night and getting drunk and sleeping over was a totally normal thing. Here's what's dead below the surface: listening to a song because it helps heal the pain.
From that death, new life. Joy and contentment. Stability and companionship. Tough work and just reward. Here's what I hear when I hear "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead" now: a reminder of what happened that led me here, to this place.
No comments:
Post a Comment