listen to this, meg says listen to this

Listen to This: Calling All Angels

I was driving to work this morning and Train’s “Calling All Angels” came on the radio, and I haven’t heard it in a while. With news of Chris Cornell’s death yesterday, I was thinking about the personal demons we face, and how so many times people fight those battles silently. That line “I need to know that things are gonna look up.” People need something to hope for, and they need to know that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and that even on dark days when you feel absolutely horrible, you are not always going to feel like that. It’s hard to say when the clouds will lift, but one day they will. And sometimes, well I think almost all the time – people need to know they’re not alone. People just want someone to reach out to them, to listen, to provide a sense of company in our crazy world – even if you can’t physically be there in a moment. We all get so busy in our day to day lives, and have our own ordeals and struggles to handle, but just remember to check in with each other. It helps ease the burden of the weight we all carry.

I know this song probably sounds cheesy in memory, but the message is a good point and it’s a good reminder. So, here’s to a little Friday throwback. And as always, remember to be kind to each other – what a difference it can make.

listen to this, meg says listen to this

Listen to This: “We Could Happen”

My friend Jared has made me a number of fantastic mixed CDs. This morning on a dreary drive to work, I popped one in to make the ride a bit cheerier. One of my favorites, that I’d never heard before until he introduced me is AJ Rafael’s “We Could Happen.” It’s vulnerable and honest, but it has a happy beat. Something about it reminds me of the butterflies of anticipation when you’re entering new territory with someone you like. It really encapsulates that whole wave of hesitation and uncertainty before you take the jump. It’s a unique tune, and it’s a little sappy, but I like sappy. If you haven’t heard it yet, give it a listen:

listen to this, meg says listen to this

Listen to This: “Tin Man”

It probably comes as no surprise that one of my favorite tracks on Miranda Lambert’s new album The Weight of These Wings is “Tin Man.” I mean how can you listen to this song, and not feel anything? I’m not really sure. On Sunday, she preformed it live on the ACM’s. Acoustic. Raw. I think there’s something beautiful and admirable about someone revealing their heart for anyone to see. It’s a real song, and it’s vulnerable, and I think that’s wonderful. The world needs more of that. I believe it’s a brave thing to do, even if it’s scary, to put your emotions out there like that. You never really know how that situation will transpire, but it’s better than hiding away. And isn’t that  kind of how love works, anyway? It’s all a risk, but what is life without taking those chances? Her performance gave me goosebumps, but the song has that effect anyway. I’m not sure I’ve listened to it one time without getting tears in my eyes yet. (*Sap alert* I know, but it’s so good.) It had been a few years since her last one, and this much anticipated album was well worth the weight. I believe it when they say she brought her heart to the table, ready to pour it out into these songs.

“Hey there Mr. Tin Man
You don’t know how lucky you are
You shouldn’t spend your whole life wish’
For something bound to fall apart
Every time you’re feeling empty
Better thank your lucky stars
If you ever felt one breaking
You’d never want a heart

Hey there Mr. Tin Man
You don’t know how lucky you are
I’ve been on the road that you’re on
It didn’t get me very far
You ain’t missing nothing
Cause love is so damn hard
Take it from me darling
You don’t want a heart

Hey there Mr. Tin Man
I’m glad we talked this out
You can take mine if you want it
It’s in pieces now
By the way there Mr. Tin Man
If you don’t mind the scars
You give me your armor
And you can have my heart”

If you haven’t heard it yet:

listen to this

Listen to This: Say You Won’t Let Go

Driving home from work on Monday, I heard this song on the radio, and I was immediately intrigued. The lyrics are so vulnerable, and raw. Musically it’s beautiful, and of course I’m a sucker for an accent (no shame in admitting that.) I sent the song to a friend that night, and they sent me a YouTube video from the X-Factor in which James Arthur won in 2012. I can’t believe I’m just hearing him now, and I’ve missed out on a few years of getting to hear such a great voice. Upon a Google search you can see that there was much controversy surrounding his lyrics and musical choices in the years following the X-Factor win, but hopefully this fabulous single from his album Back From the Edge shows a different direction he’s taking with his music. I mean, I’m well aware I’m a sap and I’m all for a beautiful declaration of love, but how can you not melt at these words?

I met you in the dark, you lit me up
You made me feel as though I was enough
We danced the night away, we drank too much
I held your hair back when
You were throwing up
Then you smiled over your shoulder
For a minute, I was stone-cold sober
I pulled you closer to my chest
And you asked me to stay over
I said, I already told ya
I think that you should get some rest
I knew I loved you then
 
Anyway, here’s wishing much success for this artist and more from where this beautiful song came from. If you haven’t heard this song yet, check it out:
listen to this

Meg Says Listen to This “We Used to Wait”

It’s no secret I love to make mix CD’s. I love to write snail mail. There’s something different about meticulously choosing the songs you’re going to add, the order they’ll play in, the mood progression it creates, when you burn them to a CD, draw up a little “cover,” and stick them in the mail. It’s a world away from handing somebody a flash drive, or sending them a link to something on YouTube and telling them to check it out. (Though I do that on the blog posts here so there’s a convenience factor to it, I know.) There’s something special about a handwritten note, addressed, licking the envelope, putting a stamp on it. I think it takes more thought to write a letter, than it does to send a text message. Of course,  you can’t share something urgent in the mail seeing as how sometimes it takes about a week for a note to make it to someone, but there’s still an art to splashing your heart on a page with ink. There’s something exhilarating (or nerve wracking,) about the anticipation of exciting news, or a delicate apology, a reminder of love, or revealing the longing’s of your heart being discovered in the mailbox. “I’m gonna write a letter to my true love, I’m gonna sign my name.” Every once in a while I like to put “We Used to Wait” by Arcade Fire off their album, The Suburbs on my mixes. I think it encapsulates the beauty of the lost art of letter writing. I guess on a deeper level, the art of a permanent communication, or at least a more intentional version of it. It reminds me how much better is it to know someone took a pen to paper, thoughtfully wrote down their words, maybe you can see the parts where they hesitated and the heights of the letters change, or they got excited and started writing fast and sloppy – it feels so much more intimate to hold that piece of paper in your hand, than to stare at empty words on a screen. The world is constantly changing, but there are some tired and true things that are worth keeping around “Now our lives are changing fast, hope that something pure can last.” I love singing along to this song, but when I let the words sink in it always wrecks me a bit. All that anticipation, and excitement, or sometimes disappointment… “We used to wait, sometimes it never came.” I guess it covers it all.