Music is, without question, my first love.  I loved music before I loved boys. I loved music before I had a best girl friend. I loved music before I came to terms with God. There nothing that comes closer to reflecting the depths of me than certain songs, albums, and artists.

Tonight a friend in New York sent me this link to a live streamed album by a Brooklyn-based band called The National. I happen to be a big fan of The National, and have listened to two of their previous albums (Boxer and Alligator) countless times. I suppose there’s something about this group of NYC-transplanted Ohioans that I can relate to. And their music, well…it just moves me.

This newest album, High Violet, managed in its first two songs to bring me to tears.

“Terrible Love”, the fist song on the album, has background vocals reminiscent of Bon Iver, with grungy, industrial percussion that makes me think of Godspeedyoublackemperor. By the end of that song, The National had my full attention, and my mind had wandered to my ex. He and I split up in January of 2009, but he was my best friend in New York.

As if it had read my mind, the album goes on to a second track called “Sorrow”. With lyrics including, “It’s in my honey it’s in my milk. It’s only about half a heart alone. On the water, Cover me in rag and bones, sympathy. Cause I don’t wanna get over you. I don’t wanna get over you.”

As if their new album weren’t killing me already, The National had to tear my heart out a little bit more with its fourth track, “Little Faith”:

Now I’m stuck in New York
And the rain’s coming down
I don’t feel like we’ll go anywhere
Stuck in New York
And the rain’s coming down
Still in line for the vanity fair

Leave our excellent souls
Head for the coast
Leave our excellent souls
Everything goes

All our lonely kicks are getting harder to find
We’ll play nuns versus priests until somebody cries

So that’s that. I’ve not made it through the rest of the album yet, but so far it’s done exactly what music – in my opinion- is there to do; it’s made me feel. It’s stirred things, raised questions, unearthed emotions, and made me feel, well…alive.

Bookmark the permalink.

One Comment

  1. Hugs, dear daughter. Great post – thanks for sharing 🙂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

  • FreshBooks