In 2008, my old band members and I recorded some songs in a Glasgow studio and were surprised when one of them seemed to leave the producer genuinely emotional. I was reminded of this when I came across the CD while going through some old belongings, and it brought back some bittersweet memories.
I can still remember sitting in the mixing room as the producer worked on the final version of one of my songs, Way Back Home. The song was written about a friend of mine who had experienced a personal tragedy and withdrew into himself for some time afterwards.
It’s about someone feeling abandoned, overwhelmed, and close to giving up, and trying to reach them before they spiral further into despair.
As the producer was mixing it, he sat with his head bowed. We thought he was listening intently, but it turned out he was crying while the song played. One of the guys asked if he was OK as the rest of us fumbled awkwardly over how to offer comfort. The man got up, came over and shook my hand, saying, “That got me ... I wasn’t expecting that”.
He then opened up about the struggles he and his business partner were facing, and the grief of having to let go of the studio they both loved.
Everyone in the room was caught off guard. I doubt any of us had expected a recording session to end with a conversation like that. As we left the studio, we each hugged the producer and wished him well. During the train ride home, we mostly sat in silence.
I felt a heavy sadness at the time, thinking that one of our songs had left someone feeling so emotional when he was already going through a rough patch. But then I remembered the kinds of songs I listened to when I was in despair. They were often very emotional, and helped me process my sadness rather than cover it up with upbeat music.
The following week, I got an e-mail from the producer thanking us for the session, and sharing a particular line in the song that had brought up strong feelings. The line is, “So if you think that it’s all over, and if you find there’s nothing worth fighting for, take my hand and I’ll show you the way back home”.
I was moved by the producer’s kind words and thanked him for what he had brought to the song during the recording.
Thinking back, it’s fascinating how men in particular can find an emotional safety in songs that we often struggle to find when expressing our feelings openly.
Many of the band’s songs were emotionally charged, yet we were still taken aback when someone actually cried in front of us. In truth, we were all moved, but it wasn’t a moment we met easily.
We could put difficult feelings into music, but talking openly about them was another matter. And yet, in the mixing room, none of us tried to lighten the mood or deflect the sadness.
I think that was partly why the producer’s reaction is one I still remember. For a few minutes, whatever reserve or self-consciousness we had seemed to disappear.
There were just six men in a basement studio, one of them going through a painful time, and the rest of us trying, somewhat clumsily, to be there for him.
Sometimes people find a way into feelings through a song, a film, a book, or some other piece of art long before they’re ready to explain those feelings directly.
I know I’ve done the same. When I feel down, I rarely look for cheerful music to lift me out of it. I tend to listen to something that sounds closer to how I actually feel. Whether it’s Joni Mitchell’s River, John Prine’s Sam Stone, or Billie Eilish’s Listen Before I Go, there can be a surprising solace in what might be called bleak songs.
The themes of a song don’t need to perfectly match what you’re going through, but there’s a comfort in knowing someone else has felt something close to what you’re feeling.
And it’s particularly affirming when you can sit with a song and know it’s not going to try and rush you to the nearest happy vibe. Sometimes a sad song sits with you like a consoling friend, reminding you that there’s no need to hurry through meaningful feelings.
Sandy Clarke has long held an interest in emotions, mental health, mindfulness and meditation. He believes the more we understand ourselves and each other, the better societies we can create. If you have any questions or comments, e-mail lifestyle@thestar.com.my. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.
