I’ve been brave enough to listen to The Postal Service lately, although my enjoyment is restricted to headphones on the bus. It’s still something that’s a little too personal to be listening through speakers, and for some reason, I’m not comfortable with others hearing the same songs that I do. It’s as if being able to hear the same trippy beats and soft voices gives other people the ability to experience the memories that the music brings to my mind; curves in a gentle face, car rides through the thick summer air, nervous fumblings on the couch, the scent of unfamiliar sheets.

They’re all good memories, nothing painful anymore, but it’s all something I’d like to keep to myself for just a little longer.

I have one playlist of all the sad songs in my collection. I named it OAC because that was the year I first made the playlist (it has since come to define that time in my life), and it’s grown from 11 songs to over 50.

I lately find myself skipping songs when I listen to that particular playlist, and to me, the entire point of playlists is so that one doesn’t have to skip songs. I’ve started to distinguish between two types of sad emotions, and with this distinction comes the separation of two types of sad songs.

There is the “true sad”, which delves into depression. Songs such as Tindersticks – Trouble Every Day, or Dir En Grey – Mushi are the perfect compliments for such a mood. Then there’s the “hurts-so-good sad”, where there’s barely any sadness at all, but just enough to remind oneself of what one has been through and how far one has come. The beneficial sadness, which does good and not harm. The type of lingering, residual sadness that almost leaves one craving more of the once familiar feeling. And with this beautiful emotion goes songs such as Bad Astronaut – These Days, Portishead – Wondering Star, Red Hot Chili Peppers – Otherside.

I need to make another playlist.

I don’t like Nickelback. I don’t like them so much that I don’t even bother capitalizing the name of their “band” or putting a link to their site. That’s because they suck. They’re prissy fucks playing watered down rock. All their songs sound the same, and this is proof.

Listen with headphones because it’s two different Nickelback songs, one on each channel. And yet, it’s not two different songs. Why? Because the timing, chord progression, even certain melodic parts are exactly the same. Both start with a voice and guitar, both end with a fade out that last the same amount of time. The list of similarities go on and on.

Usually, playing two different songs at the same time, even if they’re both by the same band, will sound all messed up if only a single part is different, even just a single note in the bass line. That’s because good musicians take the time to develop songs, come up with new motifs, maybe even experiment. But not this. This is just Nickelback with a fuller sound. It’s so sad that it’s entertaining. I can’t stop listening. This should be happening at every show.

Once I was dating someone who bought a Nickelback album when we were coming up to the 1.5 year mark. I didn’t see it coming at all. I mean, she liked David Usher, which is understandable because he’s hot and comes out with decent material, but there was no warning of Nickelback. I was devastated. I was crushed. Heartbroken. She might as well have said, “HEY GUESS WHAT I BEAT THE FUCK OUT OF SOME KID TODAY BUT ONLY BECAUSE SHE WAS OLD ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS HAPPENING AND TOO YOUNG TO DEFEND HERSELF”.

I was glad to find out that Death Cab For Cutie isn’t a studio band, after watching their video for The New Year. They’re well timed, well rehearsed, and most importantly, the vocals were spot on. However, I was sorely disappointed to find out that Ben Gibbard’s voice and lyrics don’t match the way he presents himself. Why does this matter? I have no fucking clue. I guess I always pictured Ben as some skinny, young, emo god, so suddenly seeing him as an older man of modest looks was quite a surprise. He doesn’t even come close to matching the sex appeal of Tom Yorke, whom I imagined him to rival.

I’m generally not a superstitious person but I have this one superstition when I’m listening to my iPod. I always have my songs on random, and if two songs ever play in a row that were meant to be played in a row (i.e. in order on an album or if the second song develops the motifs from the first) then I think I’ll have a good day.

I think it started when I used to play ladder matches in WC3 with Jacky. She always listened to music when she was playing, so she had her 8000 songs queued up. If Sigur Rós ever came up, she would know that we’d win. I don’t think she was ever wrong.