Tuesday, February 08, 2005

top 5 songs about rejection: because you need to have all of these by valentine's day.

So I was going to make any number of entertaining posts involving pictures, except for the recent "massive hardware failure" on the echoing.org "server" that currently makes it impossible for me to "log in to my website and upload anything." Apparently it also makes me needlessly abuse punctuation. So instead, onto the long-promised Top 5 Songs About Rejection! These are probably not the best songs on the topic, but they are my favourites, and will not be appearing in any sort of rank order beyond saving the best for last. Also, despite the fact that it merits inclusion, "I Know It's Over" by The Smiths will not be part of the list, because I don't want to be blamed for anyone trying to kill themselves.

Brian Borcherdt - Co.
"When you're allowed to fall apart, you'll be a mountain in someone's arms. But I don't want your company anymore. I don't want you calling me. I don't want you . . . If I don't make it home, I'm still alive."

As a whole, The Remains of Brian Borcherdt sounds like an album to fall in love to, make love to, and fall out of love to — maybe all at the same time. The guitars on "Co.", the opening track, already sound shattered, like breaking icicles, and Mr. Borcherdt's vocals have the same crystalline, sharp, fragile quality as they build to a loud, violently trembling conclusion together. The entire song swells to the final admission that, whether or not anything had started, it's certainly over now. For the song's narrator, it is a triumph over his own cowardice and reservations, but for its interlocutor, nothing about the situation seems like a victory. Lyrically, "Co." is heartbreaking for the same reason that a song like "Don't Wanna Know Why" by Whiskeytown is heartbreaking — the arm's-length concern, the weak and hurried attempt at placating you, the very sincere hope that you will become somebody else's problem. Other people will find their own personal sunsets to ride off into, and they will decide that you're not coming with them.

"Oh, you're such a lucky girl. If you don't make it home, you're still alive."