albums i listened to all the way through
posted this week and every week (46)
New York, I love you, but you’re too damn cold.
This is the harshest winter I’ve lived through since moving North. It’s not fun. My Southern-born and bred blood struggles to accommodate to weather where the high is 13 Degrees Fahrenheit. Not even my snow-loving childhood in the frigid mountains of Appalachia adequately prepared me for the cold that sits in your bones and won’t let go.
Except maybe that blizzard in ‘98. I was still in diapers though, so that doesn’t count.
Truly, the only things that have brought me a single ounce of warmth this week are drinking turmeric/ginger tea and watching The Pitt. If I am indeed in my Saturn Return era, it seems fitting I find myself back so firmly in hyper-fixation territory. It happens every so often, especially this time of year.
When I was a teenager, I loved Les Mis—both the book and the musical. I could genuinely not stop talking about either of them, not even for a second.
In retrospect, it makes sense. I was just two years out from my dad’s passing. My brother, the only other person I felt tied to, was away at college. My peers had no clue what was going on in my mind. I didn’t have a good outlet, except for this deeply tragic story about death, redemption, and living through grief once all your loved ones are gone.
Yeah…
So, here I am. It’s been fifteen years, and I’m thinking about a TV show that does the same thing. The Pitt is so human, it hurts. Healthcare workers and patients alike struggle against the grain of our varied existence. In an ER, life and death co-exist so plainly. There can be no hiding from either or the not-so-fine-line between them.
I won’t include any spoilers here, but I do suggest you give the show a chance if you haven’t already. It’s been a strange sort of salve on my past hospital traumas, as well as my early adolescent unwillingness to ask for help when I needed it.
Speaking of, I long to connect with a real human being again.
I love having this platform and hope I never take it for granted. I have a few truly meaningful friendships in my life. However, officially hitting 1k subs and the isolation of winter weather has definitely affected my psyche. Comments, likes, and well-wishes only do so much to alleviate it.
I’ve been painfully lonely for much of my life, especially in the aftermath of my dad’s death. I internalized just about everything after that, never letting the true source of my trauma show, not even when my bullies gave me condolence cards or when my grades slipped far too low.
Fandom was the only place I felt I could go. It held me where others in my real life could not. Teenagers all feel deeply misunderstood. Throw in the premature death of a parent, and you’ve got a recipe for an anxious, depressed kid in serious need of guidance. Enter every male authority figure I’ve ever had.
I’ve sought true, “you see me, I see you” connections in some really unhealthy places, mostly those older men. I’ve been disappointed by these relationships over and over again. At some point, I decided it must be my expectations. They are the problem. They’re just too high. And yet—I still seek that connection out to this day, after almost two decades of not being able to sustain a single one.
I think that quote from Before Sunset is so poignant.
“I guess when you are young, you believe that you will meet many people with whom you'll connect with, but later in life you realize it only happens a few times.”
I don’t know if I believe in this notion, but every time I go out to a show, surrounded by strangers with whom I should be able to connect based on the fact we’re there for the same reason, I remember this quote and freeze up. I buckle under the pressure. I can’t see any kind of connection happening between any of us.
I hurt my own feelings before someone else gets the chance.
As a chronic yearner, a hopeless romantic to a fault, I sorely miss the deep connections of my past. I also know weren’t all that great for either of us. It’s the nature of nostalgia and someone a little too willing to reflect on the difficult things that are easier to tackle, rather than face the utterly unspeakable ones. I’m trying my best to do more reflective work in the latter category.
While it’s true that I don’t currently seek romance, sex, or any kind of scenario where I can lean in and distract myself with someone else’s worries, fears, and hang-ups, that human desire to connect prevails. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt truly seen by anyone. At this point, I think it’s just my nature. There are a million feelings buried inside me just begging to be shared. Yet, there is no place to share them except on the page.
I hate admitting that to upwards of 1k strangers, but lying about it feels untenable. There’s a surplus of blatant lies in this world already. I don’t need to contribute any more of my own.
I had a dream last night where, upon ending a call with my therapist, she said “I love you,” if that gives you any indication where my mind is.
Anyway, here are the albums I listened to all the way through this past week:
The Indescribable Wow (1988) by Sam Phillips~
Rubber Soul (1965) by The Beatles**
Hozier (2014) by Hozier**X
This may seem like a strange collection of albums to pair together, but hear me out.
I started my week by listening to The Indescribable Wow after reading wordsworthesq‘s glowing recommendation. You should go read Emm’s post because she does it justice better than I ever could. I will say—I loved it! It definitely has that Gilmore Girls quality without being totally overt. The production is so good, especially on “What Do I Do?” It possesses that transcendent chamber pop sound I adore. I need it on vinyl.
Inevitably, this listen led me to seek out more 60s-like harmonies and strange strings. In this regard, Rubber Soul always hits the spot. I think too Sam Phillip’s departure from the Contemporary Christian music genre reminded me of the The Beatles choosing to experiment musically (and otherwise) with this album after years of chasing commercial success.
Also, it features my favorite Beatles era George Harrison-penned track, “If I Needed Someone.” I mean—carve your number on my wall and maybe you will get a call from me? If someone wrote that about me, I would pass out immediately. 10/10.
As for our beloved Prince of the Woods, I often reach for his work in the Winter months. These days, I feel myself slipping back into the sad as folk mindset that so permeated my early-and mid-20s. 2026 is shaping up to be a truly transformative year for folk releases. Since we last spoke, the Milk Carton Kids, Iron & Wine, AND Mumford & Sons have all announced upcoming releases for this Spring. AHHH!
Was it Gabbie that posed the question “What do you listen to when you don’t know what you’re in the mood for?” Well, if so, mine is absolutely folk music, especially if it was released between 2010 and 2018. I really don’t care if this makes me sound like a tragically cringe millennial. Yes, I am cringe. Yes, I am happy. Yes, I am a zillennial with mostly millennial friends. It’s a good life.
Hozier’s 2014 debut is a nonstop vibe. I listened to the Expanded Edition this weekend at least three times. I honestly can’t believe how good it is. No skips. That live version of “Cherry Wine” lives in my head rent free. “From Eden” and “In A Week” are masterful moments of lyrical depth. I’m shocked this album doesn’t pop up on more Best Of Debut lists. Maybe we just, uh, conveniently forget music from the 2010s, which sucks. I remember the first time I heard a Hozier song. I was 16 and deep in fandom territory. What a rush!
Well…here I am, twelve years later and still hooked on both. Who would have thunk it?
Emm keeps my ears busy. I found a vinyl rip of the U.S. version of RUBBER SOUL on YouTube last year; that's the one I grew up with and will always prefer.
Thank you for sharing such a tender post. It’s a brave and vulnerable thing to do. That said, I’m so sorry to hear about the loneliness you’ve endured since your father’s passing. I’m also someone who struggled mightily to connect with the world, especially as a teen attempting to metabolize their own traumas. As a geriatric millennial, that anxiety hasn’t left. However, I’ve found ways to alleviate my depression through certain practices, like songwriting and striking up conversations in public spaces, both of which require a degree of vulnerability. If my young self saw me now, they’d be rosacea-red but also quite proud that I decided to take chances and believe in the kindness of strangers.
—Matt
P.S. The Pitt has been in my queue for a minute, so I appreciate the reminder!