The Songs And Sorrows We Share

"Could I be a boat for you awhile?
Could I stay afloat for you, and sail in your smile?
Could I be a boat for you, and ever gain this weight for you,
Could I be a boat for you awhile?"
 - Yellow Flower, by KT Tunstall


I heard someone talk once about the song "Hey Ya", by the group OutKast - artist Andre 3000 - and how it is the saddest song he knows. If you just listen to the original version, you might not get it. But take the stripped-down, acoustic version covered by Obediah Parker, and suddenly, there it is. Before the famously tongue-in-cheek lyrics which everyone boogies along to - "Shake it, shake it, like a Polaroid picture!" - or the line where Andre amusingly beseeches - "Give me some sugar, I am your neighbor!" - is the story of a love which is crumbling away. "Thank God for Mom and Dad for putting two together 'cause we don't know how", the singer cries. Andre sings it with gusto, the sadness hidden beneath the energy of the music, while in the Obediah version, it is a clearer lament. But the real grief lies in the line which everyone who knows the song surely sings along to with unburdened enthusiasm: "Nothing lasts forever!" It's only when you realize that the song is talking about the heartbreak of trying to make something work and feeling hopelessly lost as to how you could or what went wrong, that the words ring true for the struggles of the songwriter, and not just a catchy, ironic hook in an upbeat song.


Recently I fell in love with the song "Silhouettes" by the band 'Colony House'. The melody and lyrics are fun, easy to sing or dance along to. Then I caught one of the first lines:

"Have you lost something? Or someone you love?
You've still got a story, tell it every morning!"

The line stood out to me even more because I knew the history of the singer and drummer, Will and Caleb Chapman, sons of musician Steven Curtis Chapman. The brothers lost their young adoptive sister in a tragic accident. I heard an interview with SC Chapman talking about the event, and about how the car his son Will was driving backed out of the driveway and hit his daughter who was hiding behind it. When everyone realized what had happened, Will took off running in sheer horror and grief. In that moment, Chapman said that he had to choose: stay with his daughter, or run after his son. He said he realized that he might lose his daughter that day, but if he didn't run after his son, he might lose him as well. So he ran and ran, finally catching Will, telling him, "It wasn't your fault," over and over, the two of them weeping in the street.

To hear the line above, ringing with such sadness but ending so full of hope, gives me hope.

I have always loved sad songs. The one above, "Yellow Flower" by KT Tunstall, speaks specifically of the death of her father. She sings of being so glad to have a few final moments with him, painful as they are, and how she holds back her tears "as though by magic they will make me ever warmer, even after you're not here".

What is it about these songs, and a myriad of others, which speak to me so deeply? Maybe because pain and loss and grief are such deep emotions, resonating in different yet empathetic forms in everyone. Sharing joy and happiness is a vital and incredible human experience. Maybe sharing sorrow, especially in the form of a beautiful or moving or even catchy song, is an experience even more lasting.