I wouldn’t consider myself to be the type of person who is up-to-date with the latest TikTok trends. No matter how popular they get, I can’t be bothered to keep track of them all. Besides, my For You Page gives me everything I could possibly ask for.
Every day I am bombarded with celebrity scandals, five-minute recipes, the latest dance trends, cute animals and street interviews. I don’t remember most of the ones I like, but I guess I’ve been conditioned (like the rest of the world) to aimlessly scroll through the app until I find something that catches my attention, which is often brief and disappears before I move on to the next video. It can be an exhausting and overwhelming cycle, but until about a month ago, I started noticing something different in my feed – a collection of videos all covered similar subjects of friendship, loss and childhood. Each one was undeniably personal and shockingly intimate, and at the centre of it all was Phoebe Bridgers’ 2017 hit “Scott Street.”
With their own childhood photos compiled together in a slideshow, users would caption each image with an update on their current lives, using “Scott Street’s” powerful outro as the background song. For instance, some users would include an image with their childhood friends, writing “I haven’t spoken to them in six years,” or a photo with one of their siblings on Christmas morning with the caption “I don’t open gifts with my brother anymore.”
Many of these videos were heartbreaking, while others were bittersweet, and I honestly think it’s one of the saddest trends we’ve ever created. They offer strangers an inside look into their own struggles while revealing parts of themselves that they probably never discussed in real life. By simply scrolling through the videos underneath the sound, it becomes clear that the track has unlocked some sort of new intimacy between users and the platform, uniting those who share the same desire to relive their childhood memories.
So, what’s so special about “Scott Street?”
The song, which dates back to 2017, was first released on Bridgers’ debut studio album Stranger in the Alps. On the album, Bridgers sings about her personal relationships, lost friends and fascination with serial killers. Most listeners favourited “Motion Sickness” and “Smoke Signals,” but other notable tracks on the album include “Killer,” “Funeral,” and “Georgia.”
Bridgers received immense praise for her work, rewarding her with a distinguished spot in the indie rock genre. In the words of Sam Sodomsky, Pitchfork’s Associate Editor, Stranger in the Alps is “a collection of songs about intimacy, documenting how our relationships affect the way we view ourselves and interact with others.” It’s undoubtedly one of her most impressive albums, and each song has stuck with listeners years after its release, especially “Scott Street.”
The most notable part of “Scott Street” is its instrumental outro. I don’t think I will be able to describe it perfectly with my own words, but to me, it feels like riding a bike or taking the train home – activities that can sometimes evoke strange feelings of nostalgia and loneliness. Bridgers repeats the lyrics “anyway, don’t be a stranger” against subtle sound effects, including a train whistle, bicycle horn, and a bell. These clever production techniques capture moments where friends or family members reunite after a long period of time apart, eventually realizing how much they both have changed and grown. At the end of the conversation, one of them might say “anyway, don’t be a stranger!” even though they probably won’t see each other for a while, if not at all. The song tells us that sometimes life can be lonely, and our friendships can be brief, and for the most part, there is nothing we can do about it. We all grow up, gain new interests and personality traits, and even though we will always have ourselves, it’s the people in our lives who come and go.
“Scott Street” is also a reminder of the feelings we experience when visiting the town we grew up in or the places where we spent most of our time as kids. Personally, “Scott Street” reminds me of my old childhood friends who I no longer speak to anymore. But for others, the song might be a reminder of returning home from university. Many people might feel like they no longer belong there, which can be isolating and quite disappointing. Even so, these feelings are valid, and as much as we’d like to move on with our lives, there will always be those unwanted moments where we feel a little bit like strangers. In an interview with writer and photographer Philip Cosores, Bridgers confirms that this loneliness is what “Scott Street” is all about: “Sometimes I want to cop out and say it’s about a lot of different things, but really it’s all there,” she says. “It’s just a diary.”
Besides its genius lyricism, “Scott Street” exhibits something else – vulnerability.
Like Bridgers, I guess you could say that these TikTok users are creating their own diaries. The versatility of “Scott Street” has allowed listeners to take Bridgers’ lyrics and connect them to their own lives, creating something that we can all collectively agree with – growing up sucks. But posting a childhood photo online and revealing intimate details of your life to millions of people doesn’t seem easy. In fact, it sounds quite frightening, so why is everyone doing it?
Being vulnerable online has become the new norm. The pandemic has played a significant role in this social shift, and as we continue to immerse ourselves in the digital world, the blurrier the boundary between technology and reality becomes. This can be dangerous, but it can also be freeing. Online communities, especially those that bond over music, can help us feel understood and accepted, introducing us to a world of collective experiences and interests.
As Bridgers writes from her own personal experiences, thoughts and emotions, she encourages her listeners to do the same. Even though life can be lonely and uncertain, it’s the songs like “Scott Street” and the communities they create which can help us feel less like strangers.