Sorry Adele, but 21 is not the best break-up album of 2011. It surfaces. It skims the emotional. Sure, it’s fun to belt out over and over. And yes, there’s that sense of connection and understand between humans, but again, it doesn’t “roll in the deep” as much as it could.
There is an album that does. An album that is pure raw currency.
And I’d suggest everyone listen to it, particularly if going through a gray day, or week, or year.
Past Life Martyred Saints.
I saw EMA live last night at the Hi-Dive (Denver). Sweet smiling rock Goddess of the ages.
I hugged her and said, “thank you; you saved my life.”
Which was really an emo-exaggeration. But relatively close to the truth.
I mean, what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve never met whose album you’ve listened to on repeat for the last like six months?
“If this time though we don’t get right, I’ll come to you in another life.”
It’s weird right?
And she wasn’t an asshole, which was remarkable, because if I were a talented, tall treasure I would probably be an asshole. I don’t know. Maybe not. Why be an asshole when your life is so amazing? Which is why the high school beauty queen is usually the sweetest most thoughtful grrrl in class. Wait. Maybe not usually, but some times.
“They said say love turns rot, I’m gonna give him all I got, when you showed up at that spot I almost threw-up on the spot…”
I most likely feel more of a connection to this album as a source of break-up recovery because it’s darker, angrier, heavier–more rock than pop–not really pop at all, though it should be more popular amongst the people than it is.
Also the songs “coda” into “marked” were like my theme songs for at least a month.
“I wish that every time he touched me left a mark.”
I feel like seeing her live marks the end of my anger timeline.
It is really hard to admit. It’s really hard to be honest with myself.
I think I can almost, ALMOST say that enough time has gone by to be able to be comfortable and okay with the idea of my ex being in a proximity to me that is close but still far enough away. Almost.
I can say that yes, I was incredibly angry, and yes, I may have on occasion acted out in rather immature ways and I am ready to acknowledge it, though definitely not ready to apologize.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to apologize for my anger. I think being angry was just part of the process; how I dealt with it could have been much better, that’s for sure. But I also didn’t know any better; it was an experience I was in no way familiar with.
Perhaps I am wrong, but let’s say, as an example, you’re living your life in a very organized, scheduled, generally happy manner and then suddenly that entire life flips and none of that is true anymore. It’s dealing with grieving, grieving for a life that no longer exists. People dwell in certain stages longer than others. I am an anger-dweller.
It feels good to be angry. As opposed to what’s next, which is depression. Anger at least helps me accomplish things like writing, running, excessive drinking. I’ve been depressed before and it’s sort of like having someone tie bricks to your chest and then throwing you in a gray sea but with floaties on your arms and legs. Sounds like fun, right? Which is why I think I lingered in anger for so long because I was afraid of what was next.
But I realized there isn’t really anything to be depressed about.
So, I guess I skipped that and bargaining and have reached acceptance. At least with myself. I am at a place where I still don’t really know what I’m doing with my life, but I’m ready to take it slower, breathe, discover.
An internal examination, free of dating, sex, over-consumption, anger.
Full of books, intellectual philosophical conversation, creation, love.
And I hope a new EMA album in the near future. . .