We live in a beautiful world.
This Chris Martin reminds us on the opening track of Coldplay’s 2000 debut Parachutes. The line is juxtaposed by song’s title, “Don’t Panic” and the lovely verse one admission that “All of us are done for.” In this week before Donald J. Trump’s inauguration, Martin’s dramatic optimism at world’s end has never felt more essential.
In fact, Parachutes is scattered with references to January 2017. The nine other tracks have names like “Spies”, “Trouble”, “We Never Change” and “Everything’s Not Lost.” Not to mention the song Trump definitely has on his inauguration DO NOT PLAY list: “Yellow.”
It’s the track “High Speed,” however, that I’m most interested in dissecting as a prescient hot take of modern America. The song starts as such:
Can anybody fly this thing?
Before my head explodes
Or my head starts to ring
We’ve been living life inside a bubble
We’ve been living life inside a bubble
The bubble revelation was one of the prevailing progressive outcomes of the election, following periods of sullen silence, insurmountable horror and finger-pointing. Liberal minds began to rethink all assumptions, even going so far as to point the finger back at oneself. Hey, maybe America doesn’t reflect the values and opinions of my siloed Twitter feed, eco-friendly grocer and book club. Did…did my bubble do this? AM I RESPONSIBLE???
The answer is no, not really. This is not #WhyTrumpWon. President Trump rose from a muddy confluence of change politics, a flawed and uninspiring opposition, James Fucking Comey, and the poll-dodging shy conservative vote.
The bigger question, now that the dominoes have started to fall, is: have our bubbles hardened to a degree that impedes transference of empathy? Do we have the capacity to truly understand, and work with, those who differ from us in real and assumptive character?
This was effectively the Mother Goose plea of Meryl Streep’s recent Golden Globes speech, delivered from within literally the thickest, most inaccessible bubble in America. Her ask was at once too pointed and too vague; diagnosing MMA-watching Trump supporters with stubborn bubble-itis but not offering a clear prescription.
The reality is, we do all live in these bubbles. SNL’s mocking of the Brooklyn bubble was the same Streep assertion, but for progressive millenials. We easily protect ourselves with technicolor narratives of other places and other people. I’m guilty of it and I think most of us are.
My hope is that Streep appealed most effectively to her direct audience, the artists. The downside of that specific room is that film and, to a lesser degree, television are the slowest platforms for change, education and empathy narratives. Surely there’s at least one film on the North Dakota Access Pipeline that we’ll never see because the production timeline overshot the deadline for influence.
But I do think artists will carry the burden of empathy-by-design through narratives that are otherwise left unshared by access or choice. Clearly, the number one way to understand others, their challenges and their resulting actions is to have physical relation to the source. Unfortunately, there exist pockets of this gigantic country where access to different people is limited. This is a bubble from birth. And here, it’s possible empathy may only be found in a faraway narrative.
Streep called for filmmakers to take their pain and make art, and the truth is, that pain has already been painted on the radio. I will never forget the speedy response by musicians to the blows taken in 2016 and the degree to which music provided an understanding of others. Take, for example, the healing powers of A Tribe Called Quest’s We got it from Here… Thank You 4 Your Service delivered on a harrowing election week. This year, I needed to hear the trials of Beyonce and Solange as contemporary black women as much as I needed to hear the questions facing the Drive-By Truckers in rural America.
Artists are going to keep making this essential art and trust me, it will benefit our bubble situations to support it. We should challenge ourselves to explore uncomfortable music genres and unknown songwriters in 2017. We should consider that recorded music is the only art form that frequently allows criticism to conflate taste with bigotry. To me, the common “I like anything but rap or country” is an acceptable silencing of the kind of Americans who traditionally struggle for a voice. We can do better as consumers of popular art and it only takes a small stretch of our comfort zone.
Chris Martin’s original question asks if we can fly this thing, this America we’ve helped create. That’s up to us. Some will watch from cozy little bubbles, where it’s warm and familiar and even the sounds are safe. But, like Coldplay’s titular parachute, a bubble is no vehicle for the way forward.
Albums on the Bubble
I do plan to write about my favorite 50 records of 2016 and hopefully that will be done this week. Until then, I wanted to briefly mention a few albums I loved a lot this past year that almost made the cut. In no particular order:
Whyte Horses – Pop or Not
For fans of The Go! Team’s jangly neo-psychedelia, this record picks up on that insatiable energy.
Chairlift – Moth
The synth-pop duo’s recent breakup announcement is a damn shame given the highs of “Moth.” I especially love “Crying In Public”, a Sade-esque gem.
Essai Pas – Demain Est Une Autre Nuit
Okay, so, imagine the Stranger Things soundtrack lost in an industrial club district. Très bien!
Kanye West – Life of Pablo
On one hand, this record demands a need to be pulled in, edited and refocused. On the other, the paint Kayne throws against this latest canvas is still undeniably genre-defining.
Pinegrove – Cardinal
Southern-tinged indie rock. One of the more pleasant surprises of the year.
Skylar Gudasz – Oleander
This Durham singer-songwriter is my favorite new North Carolina artist.
Sheer Mag – III
Four tracks of catchy, guitar-driven punk rock. Scoot over to their Bandcamp page for the tunes.
Underworld – Barbara, Barbara, We Face A Shining Future
90s British house pioneers make a dance record optimized for headphones and repeat listens.
dvsn – Sept 5th
Graceful, Canadian R&B infused with gospel and warm vocals. Love that Elliott Smith sample in “Angela.”
Parquet Courts – Human Performance
Parquet Courts own one of the most distinct sounds in contemporary rock and Human Performance marks an energetic step forward.
Ariana Grande – Dangerous Woman
Easily the most compelling pop artist on the charts. I don’t listen to the radio, but I’m confused why “Into You” wasn’t an inescapable hit, saturating grocery stores, gas stations and slow-motion highlights as the NBA cuts to commercial; I didn’t unintentionally hear that song enough in 2016.
Virginia Wing – Forward Constant Motion
Constantly evolving and consistently groovy experimental pop.
Touche Amore – Stage Four
Grief took many forms on 2016 records, but I was most impacted by Touche Amore’s punch-a-wall fury.
Johann Johannsson – Orphee
Another flooring work of art from the Icelandic composer.
Riley Walker – Golden Singer
A preferred Sunday morning record, from the guitar virtuoso.
Laura Mvula – The Dreaming Room
Much like Bjork’s anti-genre artistry, Mvula’s neo soul theatrics make for an enchanting journey.
Case/Lang/Veirs – Case/Lang/Veirs
A patchwork of three distinct Americana voices, sewn together with profound storytelling.
Jessy Lanza – Oh No
If you like Grimes, take note how Jessy Lanza Slinky’d from the below 2014 slow jam to the sugary pop of Oh No.
Kate Jackson – British Road Movies
An album recommended for fans of Pretenders-y, 80’s pop that is ready to hit the pavement.
Exploded View – Exploded View
Industrial art pop with an impossible catch: every song was recorded on its first and only take.
Hiss Golden Messenger – Heart Like a Levee
Nothing sounds like North Carolina quite like DC Taylor’s music, and his sixth album was a loud, beautiful comfort.
Dinosaur Jr. – Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not
Probably my favorite record from the three piece since 2007’s Beyond, but definitely reconfirms that a Mascis solo = unparalleled rock joy.
Carly Rae – EMOTION SIDE B
Here’s a secret: every song on this record is better than the worst song on EMOTION, the greatest bubblegum pop album of all time.
Vince Staples – Prima Donna
It may not be as politically jarring as his debut EP, or as sonically gripping as his debut LP, but Prima Donna is a short, versatile showcase for one of hip-hop’s boldest young voices.
Kevin Morby – Singing Saw
Earwormy folk rock that frequently pays tribute to Leonard Cohen’s choired chorus.
Check out songs from these albums right here:
GatheringWool 