Have you ever heard people say something like, “The most depressed person you know isn’t listening to Phoebe Bridgers…they’re listening to The Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack?” Or, have you ever had someone share their favorite comfort song with you? Were you surprised at what it was?Â
In my experience, people usually have a song that they are partial to consistently over time, especially when they are in times of distress and need something to calm them down. Of course, you may have multiple. I am often so interested in people’s choices as they can be unexpected, seemingly silly, ultra-nichĂ©, or just sweet; and in asking you get a new song to add to your playlist.Â
But I like the funny ones. My friends and I joke about the songs that keep us from completely succumbing to mental breakdowns, the stories behind their importance and how they work just as well now. One of my friends listens to “Copacabana” by Barry Manilow on repeat when she feels at her wits end; she started years ago and it has since given her a calming rhythmic ease with which to fight her worst feelings of panic. Another friend of mine has always remained faithful to her vast and diverse taste, regardless of possible perceived “cringeness” of her choices by others: anything from musicals (Hamilton) to every varying genre of Top 40s pop (including Coldplay and AJR) to classical, then rap, then music in other languages. But there are a few in particular that we clung to for some semblance of fun, to keep us in good spirits, and the best example is “Lush Life” by Zara Larrson. It’s arguably a very surface level song, likely to be heard in a Forever 21 or Bath & Body Works, but for some reason it made us laugh without fail. Other random favorite songs of people around me include “Time Of Our Lives” by Pitbull, “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO, and “Ballin Out” by Waka Flocka Flame, to name a few. While we have no shortage of sad, contemplative, heavier songs to see us through our pain, these upbeat, unserious, carefree tracks give us a breath of fresh air in stressful times.Â
I find it especially poignant when the songs that we are often so fond of can be deemed invalid or silly in the opinion of others. With the complete subjectivity of art comes a blessing and a curse: nobody has to like what you like, and you don’t have to like what they like, either. That’s why I, personally, don’t love the phrase “guilty pleasure” in references to one’s interests, because why should you feel guilty about something you love and makes you happy? So long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, why should you let anyone tell you what you can like?Â
Sometimes, it’s okay to have hope, even if it’s false. It’s okay to fake your confidence until it becomes more real over time. It’s okay to have a rough patch where showing up at all is the most you can give. Accept these moments of delirious joy, peace of mind even if briefly, that come from a nostalgic pop song or a fond memory. Let yourself exist in a version of everything that’s not so serious. With a corny melody lifting the weight of the world, you are reminded how good it is to smile.Â