May I Propose A Little Toast?
Regina Spektor.
Regina Spektor is my favourite musical artist, bar none. Elbow comes pretty close, and there are a collection of other incredible artists and bands that I absolutely adore, because music is so important to me. But none of these remarkable people have come close to shaping the person I grew up to be like Regina. Her lyrics and musical genius have gotten me through every milestone I can remember, from my parents divorce, to puberty, to graduation. I listen to her music when I'm happy and I wallow in those songs when I'm sad; there isn't a single mood I can be in that at least one of her songs wouldn't match.
Honestly, I was going to write something completely different for this post, but after last week, it's going to have to wait. Because I saw Regina Spektor last Tuesday. And it was a big deal for me.
She made me cry. HARD.
I cry quite a bit, when I'm sad and frustrated and annoyed, but I rarely cry when I'm touched. And god-fucking-damn was I touched last Tuesday. I was bitch-slapped in the feels. It was like being hit with a train-carriage of emotion that I was not ready to handle. I hadn't really let myself think about how much I missed my family and friends, because I had been trying so hard just to assimilate and save money and basically just acclimatize away from all the people I used to rely on so much. But I'm going to be really honest here: I've been struggling. A lot. Mentally, I'm always going to be a bit haywire, but without that support network of people around me, I forget to care about myself enough to live in any sort of healthy, comfortable state, and I didn't notice until that moment. Because just for those few brief hours I forgot my mental illness. I forgot what it felt like to be constantly afraid and numb and tired and I just lived within the music. A huge weight disappeared from my shoulders and I was finally in the frame of mind to breathe in the air without it feeling tight as it struggled into my lungs. My muscles all unconsciously relaxed and I didn't even notice until I stood up to leave. My heartbeat slowed, which is something I don't think it's done since I was on Beta-blockers, and not something its done on its own for god knows how long.
Those very first piano keys to make their way to my ears were from her song "On the Radio" which, if you have read my blog before, you will probably recognise as being the song that this blog is named after. Those initial unwavering notes of piano mixed with the accompanying cello brought unabashed tears to my eyes and made my heart skip a beat. If you haven't listened to it, I recommend it to everyone, but then, I can, and will, do that for every one of her songs. There are some that I find more personal than others, however, and"On the Radio" is definitely one of them.
Some songs, when they come on the radio, can bring you back to a single moment in time - good ones and bad, like a nostalgic photo album in your head - a perfect snapshot of your past. There are entire Regina Spektor albums that can do that for me. For example, What We Saw From The Cheap Seats, and in particular, the song "The Party".
That album came out in 2012. 2012 was also the year that I last came to England before I moved here. My Dad, my sister Logan, and I came up here for six weeks to stay with family and travel around the UK. That entire album brings back so many memories of that trip - of driving along icy highways to Scotland, and meandering down hedged lanes to visit friends. I remember the smell of open packets of crisps in the car and I can hear Logan singing in the back seat behind me. I remember Dad's angry yelling at bad drivers and pit stops at innocuous little petrol stations. I remember rain and the sound it makes hitting the roof of the car, and Dad asking me to "play that song again". I recall Logie laughing at some terrible jokes Dad and I keep telling, and jokes that we kept between the two of us because "she's probably too young to hear those". I remember her falling asleep and us both commenting on how cute she is, and Dad's furrowed brow as he tried to work out how we got so lost in Cardiff. I can feel the excitement of the destination and the enjoyment of the journey, but most powerfully I can feel the nostalgia blanketing it all even as I start almost unconsciously singing along to the very first lyrics of the very first song on the album, and it lasts until the final note escapes my lips.
That isn't even my favourite album - but it is INCREDIBLE.
My favourite album is called Far, and it is wonderful. It's quite a bit more ballad-y than the others, and the lyrics are just extraordinary. For example, the very first song on the album starts with this:
I often say I can't remember the last
time I was really, truly happy, without a hint of anxiety, but I can safely say
without any shadow of a doubt that it was that moment. Mum and Dad were
divorced and I was being bullied at school and Mum was so stressed all the
time, but with all of our lives tumbling around us we managed to find so much
love in this song. I was seven, and Logan was only five, and Mum was working
two jobs, but this small moment in the worn-down kitchen of a house I have so
many negative memories in is one of pure innocence and joy. I remember Logie's
toothy face and her cheeks all red and chubby from smiling so hard. I remember
Mum's laugh as we asked to play the album and the song again and again and
again and I recall dancing together across the living room and down the hall. I
recall taking a deep breath and committing that moment to memory because I
wanted to have Deja Vu every time I heard that song (which was something I used
to try and do a lot).
Regina Spektor is my favourite musical artist, bar none. Elbow comes pretty close, and there are a collection of other incredible artists and bands that I absolutely adore, because music is so important to me. But none of these remarkable people have come close to shaping the person I grew up to be like Regina. Her lyrics and musical genius have gotten me through every milestone I can remember, from my parents divorce, to puberty, to graduation. I listen to her music when I'm happy and I wallow in those songs when I'm sad; there isn't a single mood I can be in that at least one of her songs wouldn't match.
Honestly, I was going to write something completely different for this post, but after last week, it's going to have to wait. Because I saw Regina Spektor last Tuesday. And it was a big deal for me.
She made me cry. HARD.
I cry quite a bit, when I'm sad and frustrated and annoyed, but I rarely cry when I'm touched. And god-fucking-damn was I touched last Tuesday. I was bitch-slapped in the feels. It was like being hit with a train-carriage of emotion that I was not ready to handle. I hadn't really let myself think about how much I missed my family and friends, because I had been trying so hard just to assimilate and save money and basically just acclimatize away from all the people I used to rely on so much. But I'm going to be really honest here: I've been struggling. A lot. Mentally, I'm always going to be a bit haywire, but without that support network of people around me, I forget to care about myself enough to live in any sort of healthy, comfortable state, and I didn't notice until that moment. Because just for those few brief hours I forgot my mental illness. I forgot what it felt like to be constantly afraid and numb and tired and I just lived within the music. A huge weight disappeared from my shoulders and I was finally in the frame of mind to breathe in the air without it feeling tight as it struggled into my lungs. My muscles all unconsciously relaxed and I didn't even notice until I stood up to leave. My heartbeat slowed, which is something I don't think it's done since I was on Beta-blockers, and not something its done on its own for god knows how long.
Those very first piano keys to make their way to my ears were from her song "On the Radio" which, if you have read my blog before, you will probably recognise as being the song that this blog is named after. Those initial unwavering notes of piano mixed with the accompanying cello brought unabashed tears to my eyes and made my heart skip a beat. If you haven't listened to it, I recommend it to everyone, but then, I can, and will, do that for every one of her songs. There are some that I find more personal than others, however, and"On the Radio" is definitely one of them.
Some songs, when they come on the radio, can bring you back to a single moment in time - good ones and bad, like a nostalgic photo album in your head - a perfect snapshot of your past. There are entire Regina Spektor albums that can do that for me. For example, What We Saw From The Cheap Seats, and in particular, the song "The Party".
That album came out in 2012. 2012 was also the year that I last came to England before I moved here. My Dad, my sister Logan, and I came up here for six weeks to stay with family and travel around the UK. That entire album brings back so many memories of that trip - of driving along icy highways to Scotland, and meandering down hedged lanes to visit friends. I remember the smell of open packets of crisps in the car and I can hear Logan singing in the back seat behind me. I remember Dad's angry yelling at bad drivers and pit stops at innocuous little petrol stations. I remember rain and the sound it makes hitting the roof of the car, and Dad asking me to "play that song again". I recall Logie laughing at some terrible jokes Dad and I keep telling, and jokes that we kept between the two of us because "she's probably too young to hear those". I remember her falling asleep and us both commenting on how cute she is, and Dad's furrowed brow as he tried to work out how we got so lost in Cardiff. I can feel the excitement of the destination and the enjoyment of the journey, but most powerfully I can feel the nostalgia blanketing it all even as I start almost unconsciously singing along to the very first lyrics of the very first song on the album, and it lasts until the final note escapes my lips.
That isn't even my favourite album - but it is INCREDIBLE.
My favourite album is called Far, and it is wonderful. It's quite a bit more ballad-y than the others, and the lyrics are just extraordinary. For example, the very first song on the album starts with this:
"You went into the kitchen cupboard
Got yourself another hour
And you gave half of it to me
We sat there looking at the faces
Of the strangers in the pages
Until we knew them mathematically
They were in our minds
Until forever
But we didn't mind
We didn't know better."
I change my mind about my favourite song
on the album with every listen, but at the moment, it is "Eet", which
is quite frequently on my Best Songs Ever list. Please go listen to it - it's
spectacular:
However, by far the most nostalgically
important song to me that night was her fourth encore. All of the string
instruments were removed from the stage, and the guitarist and drummer were
long gone, so it was just Regina and her piano. And the second she played the
first note, the entire hall went deadly silent because this was the song
everyone had been so desperate to hear. So desperate, in fact, that it had been
shouted out on a number of occasions throughout her set (which I don't really
approve of, but it shows some pretty strong enthusiasm).
"Samson".
"Samson" is gut-wrenchingly,
spine-chillingly, heartbreakingly beautiful and if you're going to listen to
it, you need some headphones or something so you can properly appreciate just
how lovely it is:
This was the song that broke my heart.
Because the memories that came flooding back were almost too much to bear.
They're so much clearer than any others. Logie, Mum and I are standing in the
kitchen of our old house, dancing around together - happy. Nearly ten years ago
- before high-school, before puberty, and perhaps most notably - before I had
anxiety.
Many people don't know this, but when
you have a powerful mental illness, it become very difficult to identify truly
carefree moments, because even your good memories become marred with time and
reflection, but this one didn't.
It's a seemingly insignificant
afternoon, but it means so much to me, and I will forever be able to access it
in perfect clarity because of Regina Spektor. This song brings back a tiny
moment, which in the grand scheme of things is so brief, but it's a moment that
makes me remember the person I wanted to be when I grew up.
It makes me remember the child I used to
be - so grown up but still with such a long way to go. I was so imaginative and
easy-going and intelligent and full of love and hope. I was creative and
inspired and unhinged. I was so ALIVE. And I haven't truly felt that way in
such a long time. I will cling hold of these moments, all of them, until the
day I die.
It's bittersweet, because now the
floodgates have been torn down, I miss my family and friends more than ever,
and I'm not sure I've ever felt so lonely as I have this last week. But I don't
regret any of it. Not one second, because it means I love and I am loved.
And I know she doesn't read my blog, but
I would like to send a shout into the void out to this
remarkable woman for everything her
music has ever done for me, and ever will do for anyone else. Thank you, Regina
Spektor. Without you, I don't know where I would be, or even what my life would
feel like. I am so lucky to have found you and your music, without which, I
genuinely don't think I would be here.
"This is how it works,
You peer inside yourself.
You take the things you like,
and try to love the things you took.
And then you take that love you made,
and stick it into someone else's heart,
pumping someone else's blood.
And walking arm in arm,
you hope it don't get harmed,
but even if it does, you'll just do it
all again."
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