Thirty Sad Songs and One Sweet Giveaway

Update: Comments closed! Thanks for playing!

If you know me at all, you know that I only listen to sad music.

I actually have a playlist for entitled "Just In Case I Die: A Musical Tribute To Kelly Bergin" on my computer, because I will haunt any fool who tries to play "Spirit in the Sky" at my funeral. I will pull a Tom Sawyer and fall out of the ceiling to shut that shit off. It may be dark, but I want to be prepared to combat any crappy music played at my dope funeral party.

So whenever I meet someone new, I almost always ask to hear their favorite depressing song. I like bulking up my library with classics I haven't heard of. I may generally a positive person (stop laughing, I'm trying!), but nothing makes me feel and write like a good sad, song.

When I first met Matt Logelin nearly four years ago, the first thing we talked about was music (and booze). Since I moved to Los Angeles, Matt has dragged me along to Amoeba on Sunset more than a few Tuesdays to pick up a new album. Sure, he may pretend not to know me as I scour the VHS tapes for a rare copy of Hanson's 1998 tour video (buy me a copy, Internet!), but I know he totally appreciates my unique musical insight. (i.e., repeating things I read on Pitchfork).

So when I talked to Matt about giving away a copy of his book, coming April 3rd to paperback, I tried to think of a unique way to introduce Matt to those of you who may not know him. Music plays a big part in his memoir, which details the loss of his wife, Liz, 27 hours after the birth of their daughter Madeline. The narrative of Two Kisses for Maddy is loosely shaped around music both Matt and Liz loved, and I know a big thrill for Matt was getting some of his favorite artists to allow their lyrics to be reprinted in his book. (I also know how much he enjoys watching Maddy develop her own awesome music taste, no doubt aided by his catalog of songs with the words 'ghost', 'ninja' and 'Batman' in them.)

Matt graciously agreed to write up a playlist of his favorite songs AND allow me to give away a copy of Two Kisses for Maddy to 2 readers. I also wrote up my favorite sad songs, in case you also love weeping in your car while stuck in traffic on the 405.

Two winners will be chosen at random but first must provide their favorite happy, upbeat song. God knows our playlists need it.

But before you try to pump us up and make us see rainbows and sunshine, here are our picks for Songs That Make You Less Dead Inside...


Hands of a Child, Chest of a Lady

Good morning and welcome to Music Monday, a new column on this here blog wherein I post an original song every Monday. So, like, once a month.

Oh, for all those new readers (a family member who just learned to read maybe?), by "write and sing", I mean "get an annoying stream of words in my head and then grab my child-sized acoustic guitar and play the one chord I know over and over".

I've written multiple "songs" about my sister and her stupid, beautiful red hair that always gets her a ton of attention; about Gen and that time she ate cat food; I've even written a thoughtful song for my mom when I was too poor to buy her a Mother's Day gift!

But I failed to break into autobiographical territory until this "song", about the unfortunate disproportionation (is that a word?) of my body.

So for all of you out there with T-Rex arms and lady boobs, this song goes out to you.

Sorry, Dad.

Note: I don't write down lyrics or even try to do a second take. That's why all my songs end abruptly and don't have any structure. Sorry, all real musicians, THIS IS A JOKE! Also, can I join fun.? 

Note, continued: I'm only writing this note because my one piece of blogger hate mail came from someone telling me I didn't know how to sing or play guitar. Uh, duh! Also send me more hate mail, that totally made me feel cool.


real time ramblings

in the thick of the pain (the smashing of hands into walls, the vomiting from its intensity, the dealing of what is utterly unfixable)...

i must remember what makes me whole.

i don't have a choice when it comes to this life.
i have been doing this a long time.

i sometimes wonder if i'd be happier without all this––these twice monthly bouts of ulcers and the nasty side effects of prednisone--

and i find the answer is a simple no.

if i did not know this pain,
if i had not known it my entire life,

i would not appreciate the things that the healthy do not.
i would be annoyed more easily.
i would hate more.

the joy i see
because of what i don't get to see...

it makes me whole.

i am not grateful for this disease, no.
but i am grateful to have this perspective. to have earned it.

i am proud that i am not bitter anymore.