SAD Songs Say So Much

Even though the diagnosis of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) was first proposed by Dr. Norman E. Rosenthal in 1984, it wasn’t until a few years ago that I heard a mood disorder such as this really existed. Even when I found out, I have to admit that I didn’t quite believe it. As a college student, I didn’t see any correlation between the change of the seasons and my mood – Madison was always a bustling city full of things to do, and easy ways to get to those things. Besides, I did have off for a full month due to the holidays, so I would usually come home and blissfully lounge around my parents house in pajama pants and a UW sweatshirt, watching movies I had seen a hundred times over on cable television. Any kind of mood disorder was the furthest thing from my mind; because, well, I didn’t have much to do that would give me any kind of anxiety.

Then, I moved back home and began working a full-time job, and then the SAD-ness hit me. It seems to hit especially hard this time of year, when there’s hardly any sun outside, the temperature rarely hits above five degrees, and I get so overwhelmed and despondent that taking my garbage outside every week suddenly seems like a huge accomplishment. Although I’ve never been formally diagnosed, my mood and decreased energy levels tell me all I really need to know – that I need some sunlight, and I need it yesterday. My week-long vacation to the tropics worked brilliantly – for about a week. What’s a freezing, low-energy person to do?

Being a bit of a music buff, I have always depended on lyrics, guitar riffs, and drum beats to literally chase the melancholy out of my life. There are others like this, so I don’t pretend to be the only one. But music and certain songs have helped me get through my parents’ divorce (“Candle on the Water” from the movie Pete’s Dragon was one that my six-year-old self sang constantly), breakups of both the major and not-so-major variety, and many a long bus or airplane ride. I can’t set up a stand at the Pulse office offering free specially-designed light boxes, but I can give you a dose of songs that might make getting up on these dim and cold mornings a little easier. Like my musical taste, the songs described below are all over the board, so dig in. And, as usual, I would be happy to make anyone a CD of my SAD songs if asked. So, with that, my list:

• “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” – Vampire Weekend

If it was possible to make this list and put down this track for each of the eight songs without looking like a crazy person, I probably would have done it. I have been singing Vampire Weekend’s praises for the past few months to anyone who will listen. National Public Radio refers to Vampire Weekend’s style as “a riot of Afro-pop guitars and drums.” I’m not sure if that’s correct or not, but this song makes me dance more than any other song in the history of mankind. Even reciting the title of this song fills me with a euphoria I didn’t quite know existed. Say “Kwassa Kwassa” five times fast and you’ll know exactly what I mean.

• “Apartment Story” – The National

The best part of this song lies in its lyrics. “Tired and wired we ruin too easily/sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leave.” The booming and morose baritone voice of lead singer Matt Berninger, coupled with a hopeful drum beat, pretty much sums up how I feel these days – fatigued, but not too tired to dream of a sunnier day.

• “That Teenage Feeling” – Neko Case

Neko Case is an American alternative country singer-songwriter, and I am in awe of pretty much everything about her – her flame-red hair, the humorous sprawling narratives she frequently interjects into her live sets, and most of all, her ability to sum up feelings of love and hope with some of the most introspective lyrics I’ve ever heard. “I don’t care/if forever never comes/’cause I’m holding out for that teenage feeling,” Case sings, and with the cheery twang of a harpsichord as her duet partner, you will be holding out for that feeling right along with her.

• “The Only Living Boy in New York” – Simon and Garfunkel

I love this song with every ounce of my being. A bit of useless trivia – Paul Simon wrote this song as a thinly-veiled message to Art Garfunkel, referring to a specific time in which Garfunkel went to Mexico to act in the film Catch-22. Simon was left alone in New York writing songs for Bridge over Troubled Water, hence the lonely feelings of “The Only Living Boy in New York.” Simon refers to Garfunkel in the song as Tom, referring to their early days when they were called Tom and Jerry. But instead of it being a lonely song, Simon turns it into a song of happiness and hope. “Hey, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile,” Simon sings, and I can’t help but smile too…no matter how cold my Jeep says it is outside.

• “Comfy in Nautica” – Panda Bear

Perhaps the best thing about indie rock bands is the great assortment of band names – and Panda Bear ranks as one of my favorites, because really – who doesn’t like panda bears? This song is so wonderful because it sounds like a thoroughly modern song that was taken right off of the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds album. Singer Noah Lennox layers his voice into a round, amidst a flurry of handclaps and beats, and the effect is over-stimulation in the best possible way. Besides, the lyrics are all about coolness, and how one is really cool if he or she does whatever he or she likes. What’s not to like about that?

• “Phantom Limb” – The Shins

Call me crazy, but I love a good male falsetto voice, especially when it’s done right (and on-key). Shins’ lead singer/songwriter/guitarist James Mercer does a falsetto, and does it well. All of the songs on The Shins’ second album, Wincing the Night Away, do wonders for curing the winter blues, but I chose “Phantom Limb” for its simple bass line and delicate tambourine slapping. I have no clue what the lyrics are about – they are a bit too metaphor-laden – but I have a feeling that I wouldn’t like the song half as much if I actually figured them out.

• “Brand New Colony” – The Postal Service

For me, the goodness of this song happens within the first ten seconds, because any song that sounds like the theme to Super Mario Brothers is just fine with me. The band’s name was chosen due to the way in which it produced its songs. Producer Jimmy Tamborello wrote and performed instrumental tracks and then sent the files to Ben Gibbard (frontman for the popular indie rock band Death Cab for Cutie), who edited the song as he saw fit (adding his vocals along the way), sending them back to Tamborello via…you guessed it, the United States Postal Service. The song is full of deft, thoughtful lyrics, including my favorite “we’ll cut our bodies free/from the tethers of this scene/start a brand new colony/where everything can change/we’ll give ourselves new names.” Wishful thinking, but sometimes – just sometimes – it would be nice to be able to do that.

• “Loose Lips” – Kimya Dawson (from the Motion Picture Soundtrack Juno)

I don’t care how old you are, or what you think your taste might be in terms of films – you need to run, not walk, to see Juno before it disappears at the Sturgeon Bay Cinemas. The movie is heartwarming in the most genuine way possible, and the film is made even better because most of the songs on the soundtrack were contributed by Kimya Dawson, a quirky New York City-based singer songwriter. All of the songs on the Juno soundtrack and wonderful and perfectly matched, but in terms of lyrics, I like “Loose Lips” the best: “Loose lips might sink ships/but loose gooses take trips to/San Francisco, double-dutch disco…” She dabbles a lot in modern pop-culture, and her lyrics are filled with definite opinions about politics and the Iraq war, but she sings things so sweetly and brightly that they don’t even seem all that harsh. Her songs have made my days better almost instantly.

So, there you have it. In the immortal words of Sir Elton John, “when all hope is gone/you know that sad songs say so much.” And yes, they do. SAD songs, that is.