This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Manhattan chapter.
If you’re anything like me, the semester, without fail, always eventually puts you on edge. The slightest noise can set you off on a murderous rampage; people breathing puts you on your last nerve; your professors’ assignments make you consider setting the school ablaze. The list could go on and on. On those types of days, there is truly nothing better than climbing into bed after a long, hot shower and closing your eyes for six blissful hours.
Because, let’s face it. Even when we want to go to bed early, our professors won’t allow us. Then he or she stands in class chastising you and your classmates because you look tired or are completely silent. Perhaps you should consider not assigning us seven chapters of reading for next class. Maybe then we can get the rest we need.
Professors are certainly funny people.
However, sometimes your bed alone isn’t enough. Sometimes you need to set the relaxation environment (and unfortunately, the hospital-esque vibe that both Lee Hall and Horan Hall give off is anything but relaxaing). You can’t have candles and setting up curtains to block out the sun is far too much work. You know what’s a real easy fix?
A playlist. A playlist to cut your stress level in half–no drugs necessary
“Drag” by Day Wave.
This guy has been releasing new music on a regular basis in the past month or so and it’s been awesome. It’s like Christmas morning every morning on Spotify–right under my notifications lies a nicely wrapped new song by Day Wave. However, I digress.
“Drag” is a song that is summer-stained in all the best ways (especially after that terrible cold spell we endured this past weekend). It’s quiet and self-reflective; the speaker rejecting another person’s accusations in the opening lyrics, “You say / I’m always getting mad / I’m always such a drag / But I’m not like that.” The song is like looking into the speaker’s mind or even his or her diary–it’s a very exposed, intimate piece.
The song is a steady tempo throughout except for the chorus. The chorus picks up a bit, almost as if the speaker is running away from the situation. Because this song fits perfectly within the dream-pop genre, there’s no reason why you can’t lie back and relax to this track.
“No Thanks” by Older 2009, off of their record, Our Nation.
The opening synthesizer is a warm welcome to this bass-driven melody, dreamily cool song. Sami Suova’s voice slides about; his words nearly slurring into each other. There’s an occasional flourish of piano that offers an unheard brightness to the track. While you’re gently nodding your head to the crisp drum beat, you can ease into your school week.
There’s nothing frantic or urgent about “No Thanks.” It’s a song that’s simply effortlessly cool.
“Warm Water” by Banks, remixed by Snake Hips.
Banks’ suave, sexy voice aside, that synthesizer is groovy, choppy and the glue that holds the song together. I mean sure, you have a quiet set of notes from a guitar, but the focus is Banks’ high, sweet voice that is nearly siren-like. In short, it’s going to hypnotize you to your death (sleeping through a majority of your classes).
Despite the fact that it’s a easy-to-dance-to electronica song, the remix remains true to its mellow, slow jam roots. While you can absolutely dance to this song, you can easily drift to sleep to it as well.
“I Hope Time Doesn’t Change Him” by The Drums, off of their album, Encyclopedia.
A twinkling synthesizer guides you into a slow, dark-sounding guitar. The whistle gives you momentary auditory hope–as if the track will somehow pick up and become as happy and carefree as “Let’s Go Surfing” by The Drums. However, Jonny Pierce weakly moans, “I never thought I’d want to die” as the first lyric, dashing away any hope for a cheerful song by the band.
If you’re not a blubbering, emotional mess by the end of the song, you’re clearly not of this planet. It’s a song loaded with despair; the sharp guitar cutting into the atmospheric whistle. Pierce’s voice is devoid of any attitude or strength, further amplifying the the speaker’s heartbreaking personal weakness during the song.
“Be Safe” by The Cribs, off of their record, Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever.
This spoken word by Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth has haunted me since the 8th grade. Not only is it a timeless piece, but it’s meaning is relevant for any era or any tormented youth (yes, I am still a tormented youth).
Ranaldo’s voice is flat and spits out vivid images that barrage your brain without remorse. Ryan Jarman’s guitar is fuzzy in the background; Gary Jarman’s bass grounds your ear to something so you’re not entirely lost in Ranaldo’s story and images. When the chorus comes, you’ll be quickly screaming along to the lyrics: “I know a place we can go where / You’ll fall in love so hard / You’ll wish you were dead.” This song defines anthemic chorus.
“Strings” by Young The Giant, off of their eponymous debut.
I’ll give your heart a break. “Strings” by Young The Giant is a song that opens up with a tropical guitar chord. Sameer Gadhia’s voice is warm and lovely. It’s a song that was nearly created for mellowing out. Gadhia’s voice is dream-like; the instruments sweet and rolling. This song is perfect for those who are stressed out because it’s f*cking cold outside! It imitates the sounds of the beach and beckons you to sing along.
There’s something very beautiful about the opening verse: “When the sun gets carried / The tide curves off your body / Oh, you’ll stay with me.” At it’s very essence, this band screams “California.”
99% of New Yorkers continue to fume in their pants and jackets.
“A Dream Of You And Me” by Future Islands, off of their album, Singles.
The opening combination of the smooth jazz-esque guitar and the gentle synth will never cease to make my heart ache in the strangest of ways. As the bass rolls in like the waves against the shore the speaker is standing on, mulling over his inner loneliness, singer Samuel Herring crashes in with his unique rough croon. His voice is full of hope, though it sounds on the verge of cracking, in a song whose tone is loaded with inevitable tragedy.
The song, while emotionally-packed, is gentle on the listener. You’ll feel inclined to dance, but simultaneously beckoned to the softness of your bed. The bass is a vital portion of this track as it bounces throughout the four minute song.
Interestingly enough, while the song title is “A Dream Of You And Me,” Future Islands presents us a song that tells the story of the inner turmoil of the unknown speaker. Who is this you? Will we ever find out? Best listen to the song
“Without You” by Tobias Jesso Jr., off of his record, Goon.
I first heard of Tobias Jesso Jr. when I was driving my car to pick up my sister. Long story short, I was taken so aback by his style, his voice and especially his piano work that I had to stop my car and think about what I heard. He has a classic sound which, oddly enough, this musical era desperately needs.
I’m not one who says that the classics are worthy of worship (except for the 80s), but if we brought this sound back, I wouldn’t be one to complain.
His voice drips with naïveté as he sings, “I can hardly breathe without you / There is no future I want to see / Without you.” It’s almost a desperate puppy love. But there’s just something undeniably beautiful about the speaker’s exposed pain. It’s a slow, steady piece that gives you ample time to process all the subtle noises and melodies in “Without You.” There are no fancy guitars or heavy bass line–just a calmed piano and a controlled drum beat. If that doesn’t spell mellowing out, then I don’t know what does.
“Forest Fire” by Life In Film, off of their album, Here It Comes.
Last semester, I expressed my frustrations that this band didn’t have a big enough catalogue for my listening desires. They released a debut album and now I’m furious that it didn’t get the acclaim it so deserves.
This track, however, deviates wildly from their song, “Get Closer,” their first single in the United States. “Forest Fire” reveals a softer, more intimate side from Life In Film, free of catchy choruses and bouncing bass lines. Lead singer, Samuel Fry, has a voice that is full of that tasty British accent we Americans are so desperate for. He sings slowly, as if to serenade you to sleep. The track swells gently, climaxing with flourishes of cymbals and soaring guitars. It’s a real lovely piece.
It doesn’t get aggressive in terms of loudness or instruments. Each instrument is working together to create a soft, soulful song, demonstrating that this band can write a damn good ballad as well as a fantastic indie pop track.
“Neu Chicago :: Side A :: For Dance” by Clive Tanaka y su orquestra, off of his record, Jet Set Siempre 1°
If you’re sitting at your desk, in your bed or on your couch with your brow furrowed and feelings of strong suspicion because this song sounds suspiciously like Nicki Minaj’s “Starships,” you’re not alone. You are in the exact position I was when I first discovered the song two years ago. Clive Tanaka apparently sued Nicki Minaj over it. There you go–some pop culture for you.
After I pestered you incessantly with tragic songs of love, loss and heartbreak, I found it only appropriate to send you off with a happy, chilled-out tropical dance track. It’s even in the name! The instruments found in this song are drums and synthesizers. Occasionally, the mysterious Clive Tanaka comes in to the chorus, featuring lyrics such as, “So your old love is through / And you’re looking for someone new / Don’t you try to hide / I see the longing in your eyes” in a rather robotic, monotone voice with a female accompaniment. It’s a song that you can easily learn to sing along to as you fight off the coming winter frost.
Have a lovely weekend, Jaspers. Mellow out, stay cool.
You can listen to this week’s playlist below via Spotify.