Review: Copeland – Blushing

Anyone familiar with Copeland knows that the band loves to push boundaries. In terms of their lyricism and their production, they always aim above and beyond with each new project. Whether it’s for their own creative necessity or as a way to keep the fans coming after all these years, we can always count on them to impress us with each release. Their latest, Blushing, is no exception — but it is exceptional.

You can buy or stream Blushing on Apple Music.

Blushing begins with “Pope”, the first single the band released back in November. It’s a perfect opener and really sets the tone for how this album plays out. The spoken word in the middle is an important part of the album’s overall theme and eventually comes back around in the second-to-last track, “It Felt So Real”. As much as I don’t want to call this a concept album, it kind of is.

I loved Ixora. I know there were a lot of people who didn’t, but I liked the idea of an evolved Copeland. They were interested in branching out on that album in a way they weren’t before, and it was exciting. A lot of people are commenting on the videos Copeland posted for Blushing that it’s a whole album of songs that sound like “Lavender” from Ixora, and while I can definitely see where that comparison comes from, I don’t think it’s fair to write off the album based on that.

In Ixora, we had the girl standing “in the whitest dress,” clearly signifying either a marriage or a new relationship that hasn’t been touched by negativity yet. In Blushing, though, a lot of the honeymoon period we saw in Ixora is missing. There’s still plenty of love to go around, as seen in “Lay Here” and “On Your Worst Day”, but somewhere along the way, things have gone a little bit stale.

Gone are the days of Copeland singing about running through wildflowers. Vocalist Aaron Marsh’s character on Blushing is a tired man. He’s remembering the better times through dreams, which is where the spoken word comes in. She’s calling him out of that dream state and back to reality. In “Strange Flower”, he wonders if he’s enough for her. It’s all too relatable for a long-term relationship, and I think lyrically this might be some of the band’s tightest and most poignant work.

Copeland has a way of perfectly matching their music to the story they’re conveying. They said that with this album, they wanted to overdo everything they’ve done before. On their site, Marsh says, “…we wanted to emphasize each element of sound harder, like an exaggerated version of Copeland’s sound.”

With Blushing, that approach has succeeded, particularly with the use of string and jazz instruments. Neither of those are new for Copeland, but somehow they’ve made it feel fresh and never-before-heard. They were diligent with where they put compositional elements, they didn’t waste a note. Every sound serves its intended purpose well, and every moment of silence is placed exactly where it needs to be.

5/5

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

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Most Anticipated of 2019: #3 Copeland Put an Emphasis on the Experience

Blushing will be Copeland’s sixth studio album. It’s been almost four years since the release of their comeback album Ixora, and Blushing seems like it will be a worthy follow-up to what was a beautiful representation of where the band was in the six years they were quiet.

The band self-produced their upcoming release, and as we all know, Aaron Marsh’s production skills are top tier. They seem to have a big emphasis on the experience the listener will have with the album, rather than it just being a group of songs thrown together.

A piece on the band’s website explains what their aim with the album is and I couldn’t be more excited about the new direction. It, very appropriately, releases on Valentine’s Day.

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

Review: Mae – Multisensory Aesthetic Experience

In my experience, when an artist decides to create something and title it after themselves, it’s their way of saying that the collection of songs we’re about to hear are quintessential to the artist’s perception of themselves or the art they create. For Mae’s new album Multisensory Aesthetic Experience, this is both a blessing and a curse.

You can buy or stream Multisensory Aesthetic Experience on Apple Music.

It’s been 12(!) years since Mae offered us Singularity, their third full-length album. Maybe it’s too honest of me to say, but, up until this latest album, I’d only ever listened to The Everglow in its entirety. Strangely enough though, I join the masses of fans who judge Mae by that album, and with new one, it was no different. Multisensory Aesthetic Experience didn’t quite live up to the standard set by The Everglow.

Musically, the album is breathtaking. It soars in unexpected places and is just subtle enough in others. It’s constantly interesting and keeps everyone guessing. The opener, “Kaleidoscope”, is stunning with its use of strings. The creative direction they took with the composition of the album is what makes me enjoy it so much. It’s what I imagine outer space sounds like. This is why it’s self-titled. Mae’s ability to take a sonic concept and fulfill it to its highest capacity is something to behold.

I wish they had done the same with the lyrics. Whether it’s just weak lyrically or it’s personal, is up to each listener. The comments on YouTube are equally convincing for either side. It’s not quite what I’ve been used to from Mae, either from The Everglow or the other tracks I’ve heard throughout the years. There are tracks that I don’t feel this way about, like “5 Light Years”, which obviously plays to the space theme I mentioned before, or “Let It Die”, which sounds like the old Mae. “The Overview”, however, is a strange sort of spoken word that totally brings us back down and, for me at least, slows it down.

I’d have to say that “Simple Words” is probably my favorite track here, when it comes to the less experimental side of things. It sounds like an Everglow B-side, and I know that’s probably not a great reason to name a track your favorite, but that’s really my only reason. I’ve always loved the way Mae deals with the topic of young love and this is a wonderful embodiment of that.

This was a difficult album to write about because of how disjointed it seems to be. On one hand, we have what’s probably the finest example of what Mae is capable of as musicians and producers. On the other hand, their songwriting is rusty. My reasoning is that they figured that staying close to home lyrically while letting the music transport us would be the best bet to keep the album somewhat grounded. But it doesn’t really work, because we all know Mae is better than that. They’ve never been ones to shy away from loftier goals than what they’ve achieved in past releases. What I love so much about their old stuff is the whimsy they poured into each aspect, and that amount of effort isn’t quite present enough on what should be their defining album.

3.5/5

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

Most Anticipated of 2019: #6 The 1975 Go for Two

The 1975 surprised everyone this past November with how well A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships was received. It was album of the year for many a music fan and I’m curious to see how this next piece of the 1975 puzzle will fit in. According to the band, the album is titled Notes on a Conditional Form.

We’ve got two options: It could potentially fall into the same category as A Brief Inquiry and totally blow our minds, or it could be too soon for the band to release something else, no matter how important it might be to the first album’s storyline. I would like to say I’m confident, but there’s a good chance that it’s just too soon.

Either way, it’ll be interesting to watch it play out. We don’t have a set release date for it, much like last year, but rumor has it that the album will drop on May 31.

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

Review: The 1975 – A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships

It took a long time for me to get into The 1975. I thought they were another record-company-manufactured English boy band because, if you recall, we were still in the age of One Direction when their first album, The 1975, released in 2013. It wasn’t until 2016 when their second album, I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it came out that the band caught my interest. Now, both albums are in heavy rotation for me, and I found myself excited for their third.

You can buy or stream a Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships on Apple Music.

According to every signal we got from the band throughout 2018, the album was slated for a release in the summer. We got a single instead, the first of several, and the album got pushed until now. They changed the title from Music for Cars to A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships. The album is perfectly titled.

At the crux of this album is a picture of today’s society. We’re a generation rampant with social anxiety, and science shows that this is due largely to the presence of the Internet in our lives. We’re constantly within arm’s length of what’s happening in any part of the world, whether it’s positive or negative. Matty Healy and the other members of The 1975 have taken two-and-a-half years forming an album that’s really a plea for change in these habits. Heck, Healy even sings that we should be “going outside” in the lead single, “Give Yourself a Try”. He has seen firsthand the negative effects that fame and constantly being in the spotlight has brought him and is begging us to use responsibility in our social media habits and other personal spheres of influence.

Like the other two albums by The 1975, A Brief Inquiry talks a lot about heroin and other drug use. Healy has excitedly been clean and sober for some time now, but does talk about his experiences in some of the tracks – largely, “It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You)” and “Surrounded By Heads and Bodies”, as well as some smaller references sprinkled in others. Like any medical problem, addiction is so hard to recover from, and Healy tells us that it’s even harder when he is “…connecting with 10,000 people and then going to a hotel room by myself.”

The band prides itself in its creativity. They’re never one to do the same thing twice. Each iteration of the first track on each album, “The 1975”, is composed as an entrance into the world the album intends to transport us to. In their first album, we had songs about partying and doing drugs and other frivolous behavior. In I like it when you sleep, Healy went on a personal journey of introspection. There were songs about drugs and parties, sure, but there was also a song about losing his grandmother, and a song about fighting to find some faith somewhere. Healy had started the growing-up process.

This third album, though, is taking an outrospective look at what’s around him. He sees where he’s failed in relationships because of the intense need to be connected to the rest of the world. He looks at the political climate of the United States and is appalled at what he sees. He wrote a song about gun control.

Sometimes, an album can have such a great lyrical depth that the musical side is left lacking. Not so with A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships. The band has equally composed a soundtrack that very well may have gotten the point across even without lyrics. Where there are many electronic and computer-y effects toward the beginning, there’s a change in the middle, followed by songs like “Mine”, which is straight-up jazz.

One might say at first glance that the constant stylistic changes don’t work, but it’s The 1975. If they don’t care about what works, why should we? It took me a little while to get used to how the album flows – or rather, doesn’t flow. Each track sits well on its own, but the way it’s all tied together lyrically is enough to counteract how strangely it jumps from both genre to genre and era to era. There are some 80’s inspired synths, and then there’s “Be My Mistake”, a song I could see being performed at a Woodstock Festival.

I would be making a huge mistake if I didn’t draw special attention to the final track. “I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)” starts like it could be the end-credits track to a sappy emotional movie, but it’s a great picture of how depression can cloud everything. A person who’s deep in that mindset can feel like it’s always been that way, that there’s never been a time they’ve been truly happy. But the truth is, it’s only sometimes. Healy is reminding us to remember the “sometimes.” I think it’s the most beautiful thing The 1975 has offered us, and it’s a perfect ending to an album that is imploring us to live life to the fullest.

Conceptually, the album is wonderful. It puts forth a strong message about how the world desperately needs to change. There are hard-hitting lines about politics, climate change, and even a spoken word about a man who falls in love with the Internet (a.k.a. all of us, in some way or another).

It’s a hard lesson to learn on our own, never mind when we’re being reprimanded for all of these bad habits by a band who we’ve generally just enjoyed the music of. Now they’re asking us to put effort into being present in our daily lives? Yeah, they are. Which is what makes The 1975 so great. They’re obsessed with pushing their own creative boundaries so much, that we’re forced to grow with them. So maybe we should close our browsers, but I think we should keep our headphones plugged in.

5/5

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

Review: Mumford and Sons – Delta

I thought Marcus Mumford was done. With the release of Wilder Mind in 2015, the band went in a direction that wasn’t overly popular with either their fans or, seemingly, the band itself. They barely toured the album, only playing festivals and small shows. I personally ended up loving the album, but I will admit I was leery at first. I had heard that they had put down their banjos and I wasn’t really ready for the end of the original Mumford incarnation. With their new release Delta, though, the band has shown that electric guitars and banjos can live together in harmony.

You can buy or stream Delta on Apple Music.

This fourth album is everything we loved about Mumford’s first two albums and the things we admired from their third. It’s still a totally different direction for the band, but in the way that you still have to go through some of the same routes to get back home after a cross-country road trip. Some of it is familiar, and some of it takes advantage of the new scenery and stops at the roadside attractions.

Delta is a geographical term for where a river and a larger, slower-moving body of water meet. This is a very fitting title for the album because thematically it deals with all of the major changes life can hold. There’s a song about death (“Beloved”), a song about divorce (“If I Say”), and a couple of songs about being happily in love (“Woman” is one of them).

Musically, the album is a perfect mix of their past works with some surprises thrown in. Marcus seems to sing at a higher register than he has previously; it adds a new dimension to the way this album feels as compared to their others. “Woman” features some synth-y backgrounds, akin to Judah and the Lion and Ed Sheeran, and it’s also my favorite track. There’s a heavy use of strings throughout the album, which provides a larger than life vibe. Mumford and Sons placed a high priority on uniqueness with this album, and it shows. “Beloved” featured what I’m pretty sure is a sitar, which is super fun and not widely used in American/European music. It also kind of ties in the concept of a delta: two different things meeting and becoming intertwined.

The first track, “42” is four minutes long, but I think of it more of an intro piece than really a track on its own because it ties so many of the album’s themes together. The next track, “Guiding Light”, was the first of two singles, the other being “If I Say”.

From a lyrical standpoint, this is easily the most personal release we’ve received from Mumford and Sons. Marcus sings about things that have happened in his life, in the other band members’ lives, and even about stories they’ve heard from people they’ve met. It’s accessible in a way that Mumford hasn’t really been known for, especially as a folk band. “Beloved,” in particular, speaks about death and ends with these lines: “And as you leave / See my children playing at your feet”. It’s a testament to both the innocence of childhood and also the legacy a family matriarch or patriarch leaves behind.

Their past albums use a lot of literary references, specifically Sigh No More, which alluded to (among others) “The Odyssey”, Shakespeare’s plays, and even “The Wizard of Oz”. In Delta, though, these are missing, except for the track “Darkness Visible” which is a passage from John Milton’s “Paradise Lost”. I did miss those small touches, because I enjoy doing deep dives into lyrics so much, but I suppose the layers of personal details the band has substituted are equally as interesting, and also it’s not my album so I really have no say here.

This album is full of heart and soul. Mumford and Sons brings you into their experiences more than they ever have before. It’s great to see a band become so comfortable in both where they are in their lives and in their sound. Delta is a great example of how we can walk away from the things we’ve known, but then turn back around. We learn things when we step outside of our comfort zone, but in the end, there’s no place like home…or a banjo.

4/5

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

One More Spoon of Cough Syrup for Young the Giant in Indianapolis

I have a lot of music nostalgia wrapped up in a radio station from my hometown of Novi, Michigan: 96.3 WDVD. Their morning radio show, which I would crank up with gusto everyday on the way to school, touted the catchphrase “Today’s best hits, without the rap.”  Unfortunately for the station, around 2011, a lot of the greatest hits were rap. I remember alternative and pop artists rising to the top of 96.3’s playlists; while other stations were spinning “Super Bass” by Nicki Minaj, 96.3 was playing “Cough Syrup” by Young the Giant. Since 2011, Young the Giant has become an alternative powerhouse, with four albums commenting on everything from relationships to politics.I was extremely excited to join the seasoned performers for their Mirror Masters Tour at the Egyptian Room in Indianapolis.

Young the Giant’s lead vocalist, Sameer Gadhia, is from Ann Arbor, Michigan; I would not be surprised if he also listened to 96.3 WDVD at some point in his childhood. From the moment Young the Giant took the stage, it was evident that Sameer brought incredible energy and passion to the performance. Even during relatively subdued songs for Young the Giant, like “Apartment”, Sameer’s powerful voice was spotlighted by lyrics like “Cause sooner or later this is bound to stop / Come on, let’s savor what we’re falling over”.  Sameer drew the audience into every performance, interacting with the fans and making every lyric feel personal. Even more striking was the crescendo of voices from the sold-out crowd at the Egyptian room, playing a supporting role during every song Young the Giant performed.

I started to take note of the rest of the band when Young the Giant transitioned to play “Titus Is Born”. This song really highlighted the versatility of each band member. With quiet classical guitar in the first verse, Young the Giant created a very cool twist on their usual high-energy pop tracks. Impressively, every band member can play multiple instruments or sing. Lead vocalist Sameer played tambourine and guitar, drummer Francois Comtois sang backup, guitarist Eric Cannata played keyboard, and guitarist Jacob Tilley and bassist Payam Doostzadeh played the synth. The musicality and talent of each band member continued to shine in the stripped down version of “Strings”. This arrangement was part of the band’s “In the Open” video series, where they performed versions of their songs in different outdoor locations; check out “Strings” below.

The back half of the show was hit after hit; the sultry beat of “Mind Over Matter” and fun dance interludes of “Nothing’s Over” followed the radio favorite “Cough Syrup”. By the end of the set, the audience was absolutely begging for more. Young the Giant returned to the stage for a marathon of an encore, playing “Superposition”, “Tightrope”, and “Silvertongue”. The show ended with the entire audience jumping up and down to “My Body”, screaming the lyrics “But I won’t quit / ‘Cuz I want more”. When the house lights came up, everyone was buzzing, probably realizing the truth of those words.

Young the Giant put on an absolutely incredible show, showcasing 10 years of touring experience and stellar discography. Luckily, Indianapolis was only the second stop of the tour – if you can get your hands on tickets, I would highly recommend it. In the meantime, I’ll be on the lookout for the Indianapolis equivalent to 96.3 WDVD; I would not want to miss out discovering on a band like Young the Giant.

by Katie Baird

kiel_hauckKatie Baird is a lover of music that firmly believes transitions between songs on playlists matter, albums are made to be listened to in order, and songs that don’t mention the title in the lyrics are just *better.” Her music obsession began with classic rock records and has evolved to include all genres, with a soft spot for alt pop. While she could talk about music all day, this is her first time writing about it.

Review: All Get Out – No Bouquet

All Get Out is definitely one of the most underrated bands in the scene. If you’re unfamiliar with the band, here’s some backstory. They’re comprised of two members: Nathan Hussey and Kyle Samuel. They’ve got three albums for you to choose from: 2011’s The Season, 2016’s Nobody Likes a Quitter, and now this year’s No Bouquet. I first discovered them when they joined Aaron Gillespie and William Beckett on an acoustic tour.

You can buy or stream No Bouquet on Apple Music.

Since that show, both my husband and I have become avid followers of the band. We saw them play a full band set a year or two ago and had a great time. I’m always shocked at how small the crowds are their shows…I mean, they’re such a great band, and I’m proud to call myself a fan.

So it’s been two years since they put anything out. In that span, they signed to Equal Vision (a personal favorite label), and Nathan Hussey released a solo album called Hitchens. I like his solo stuff, of course, but I was wondering when I would get more of the hard hitting alt rock that All Get Out does so well. I didn’t have to wait too much longer, because they released the first single from No Bouquet, ”However Long”, a couple of months later. It’s probably the first bonafide All Get Out love song.

The album beings with “Rose”, which is where the album’s title is found: ”You keep your name / You go home / You’re no bouquet / You’re just a rose”. It’s scathing in a way that only Nathan Hussey can write. I think that’s one of the biggest things that draws people to All Get Out. They’re lyrically so honest, and Hussey puts them to paper in such original and interesting ways,  that it’s impossible to get the ideas out of your head. Other than this rich spin Nate puts on the craft of songwriting is the way the band brings equal prowess to the music behind their words.

I think my favorite track on the album is the second one, “Survive”. It seems to be written from the perspective of a hospital patient, one whose outlook isn’t the best: “We’re pretty sure that I’m dying”, Nate sings. Along with this one, there are a couple tracks on this album that talk a little bit about loss: “Namesake” and, in a different perspective, “However Long”. The end of the song is especially poignant when he sings: ”You bad fever / Steal all my water / Garden variety / Cancer of the home / Unremarkable demon / Average low light ceiling / Conditional love / Excusable behavior / You bad believer / You turn me into boredom / A quiet lobby / You’re why I work from home”.

“God Damn” is probably the most serious and existential track on No Bouquet. Nate and Kyle wrestle with faith and how they’re not too keen on the idea. “What confusing faith / Or have you always been this way / If your tradition makes you ill / Then do not call it will”, and then in the chorus, ”Something so wrecked can give you hope”.

I’d really encourage everyone, if they haven’t already, to take a deeper dive into the world of All Get Out. Who can resist a band who sings lines like, ”It’s okay we’ve all been caught crying / It’s okay to be up front”? The more relatable I find an artist, the more likely I am to become invested in their artistic journey, and with No Bouquet, All Get Out reassures us that their relatability isn’t going anywhere – in fact, it’s only grown.

4/5

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.

Holding It Down with Noah Kahan in Indianapolis

The first time I heard Noah Kahan, he was featured on a mixtape my boyfriend made for me in the early days of our relationship. “Hold It Down” has always held a special place in my personal music history; although it isn’t a love song, the beautiful, honest lyrics always elicit the nostalgia associated with building my relationship. Now, after almost two years of following Noah Kahan’s music (and dating the same boyfriend), I was so excited to attend this show at The Hi-Fi in Indianapolis.

Noah Kahan

Noah’s discography hosts a collection of singles, and his five-song EP, Hurt Somebody, released in January 2018. Although they all vary in theme and tempo, every recording speaks to Noah’s authenticity as a songwriter. Listening to all of his music in the lead up to the concert, I was looking forward to how that would translate in a live setting.

Noah Kahan took the stage and immediately set the tone, calling, “Are you ready to hear some sad songs tonight?” He certainly did not disappoint on that front, but his set was so much more interesting than just a loop of sad songs. The raspiness of Noah’s voice does not come through in his recordings, so I was pleasantly surprised to hear it when he sang “Hallelujah” and covered “Jolene” by Ray LaMontagne.

The audience was invested, too, bouncing along to the driving acoustic guitar and sing-along chorus of “Fine” and “False Confidence”, which was recently featured on Spotify’s Pop Rising playlist. Noah’s band added so much to the performance, too – everyone was obviously having a great time. The bassist held it down while drinking a few Indianapolis-native Sun King beers, and the guitarist had an awesome solo jam at the end of the main set. Noah mentioned he would be the “Jewish Ed Sheeran” without his band, which was a hilarious and probably very true statement.

Noah Kahan

Noah’s storytelling ability was highlighted in both his singing and set transitions. He told his backstory as an artist in small-town Vermont, posting under a pseudonym on SoundCloud so people wouldn’t make fun of him at school. Noah recounted meeting his future manager in a public place with this parents, “just in case he was a pedophile.” He talked about getting high in New York with someone he barely knew, then writing about it just because he “needed a new single” (“Come Down”). I walked away more invested in Noah’s music, especially due to the dry humor he uses to talk about it.

Noah finished the show with “Young Blood”, singing about the early days as a struggling artist: “four years of driving across the country / For empty seats at their shows”. But, in a true testament to his music, the room was full of fans singing along with him. I felt lucky to be a part of this show, in a small bar venue in Indianapolis, at what I believe is only start of an amazing career for Noah Kahan.

by Katie Baird

kiel_hauckKatie Baird is a lover of music that firmly believes transitions between songs on playlists matter, albums are made to be listened to in order, and songs that don’t mention the title in the lyrics are just *better.” Her music obsession began with classic rock records and has evolved to include all genres, with a soft spot for alt pop. While she could talk about music all day, this is her first time writing about it.

Reflecting On: Copeland – You Are My Sunshine

I’m a firm believer in the connection between our personal journeys and how that plays into the music that we hold dear. When I became obsessed with Copeland’s You Are My Sunshine, I was in the midst of what remains to be the worst, and one of best, times in my life.

I’ve only briefly touched on this several times, but I suppose it’s time to lay out the whole story about my grandmother, Linda. Anyone who met her immediately loved her. She was the kindest, most thoughtful human I’ve ever met, and still no one compares to the way she always knew just what was needed to turn a bad day around. From cookies to a movie night, she was always the perfect diversion from what reality threw at me.

You can buy or stream You Are My Sunshine on Apple Music.

I was only 17 when she passed away from cancer, and even though everything feels like a big deal at 17, facing things without her these past few years have only made the bad seem worse. She always knew how to look on the bright side, which is something I’m really bad at doing. One of her favorite songs was “You Are My Sunshine”. She used to sing it to her kids (my mom and her brother) when they were young, and then to my siblings and I when we were younger.

Now that you’ve met Linda and, I’m sure, already wish you had known her, let’s talk about Copeland’s album of the same name as that 1939 Jimmie Davis hit. The album, for me, jumps back and forth, uncannily telling the story of my 2015: the year my grandmother died and the year I met the man I married three years later. It was the year I watched my family fall apart, but it was the year I saw them stand back up, stronger than ever.

The album begins with “Should You Return” and the lines that pertain here are, “But now there’s nothing left to do but waste my time / I never knew where to move on / I never knew what to rely upon”. Cancer takes such an emotional toll but it also takes a toll on time. The nights my mom would be at the hospital, it was up to me and the rest of my family members to keep the house running, to keep some semblance of order. Once my grandmother passed, my mom was back again, so I had more time on my hands. The extra time, though, wasn’t a blessing. It was used as a grief outlet.

“The Grey Man”, under normal circumstances, is just another song about a breakup. But for me, the song turned into both a ray of hope – “You’re gonna run right back to her arms” – and part of the realization that she was actually not going to come back.

The third track on this album, “Chin Up”, may be my favorite song Copeland has ever written (a close second is “In Her Arms You Will Never Starve” from Ixora). My mom leaned heavily on us during the time the cancer took to run its course. I feel like I bore a lot of the weight because I’m the oldest child, but maybe I’m just being narrowminded. Anyway, “You’d break your neck / To keep your chin up” felt so real then. My mom and I are ridiculously similar, and we deal with our feelings the same way – we don’t. We’re not fans of pity parties being thrown in our honor. I felt like I had to be strong enough so my mom felt comfortable leaning on me if she needed to. That feeling kind of stuck around though, even to this day, even when it’s not necessary.

“Good Morning Fire Eater” is kind of an aftermath song for me. ”The day is done and everyone’s gone now / You can taste every fire and hold every song”. I graduated high school shortly after my grandmother passed. So this song is kind of a sigh of relief, now that she wasn’t suffering anymore. And I held onto the idea that everyone has after high school: the world was my oyster.

We all know the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. If I’m continuing this track of being honest, I’m still having trouble with the acceptance part. But I had no trouble with the depression. “To Be Happy Now” is the best expression of that depression I’ve found up until Paramore released “Rose-Colored Boy”.

So let’s bring the mood up a little toward positivity. I was talking to a guy and he had really helped me through some of the tougher stuff I was having to deal with. My grandmother passed in June. By that point, Jeremiah was asking when I’d be his girlfriend and I told him we’d talk about it when I turned 18. I turned 18 in August and by September 2nd, we were together. The next two tracks on the album, “The Day I Lost My Voice (The Suitcase Song)” and “On the Safest Ledge”, respectively, provide two outlooks on this new relationship I was fostering: one of severe skepticism as I was no stranger to how quickly things can be taken, and the second, which was jumping headfirst.

“Not Allowed” is a jump back into grief and a different perspective of how I dealt with it. I felt that I needed so badly to be strong for the rest of my family that I pushed all of my feelings aside and just kind of forgot how to be upset about the loss we had all just experienced. It wasn’t some righteous quest to be the best griever. I just chose numbness as my coping mechanism. Disclaimer: Don’t do that. “Strange and Unprepared” follows that same theme: “And you never feel good or bad / Just strange and unprepared”.

In 2015, I had a whole array of feelings to choose from, and most of them were new. I’d been sad before, but not in this way, not in the way of “maybe I’ll never smile for real again.” I’d liked people before, but not in the way I had fallen head over heels for Jeremiah. So “What Do I Know” was kind of a pep talk. I was really in uncharted emotional territory, and I was trying my hardest to stay grounded.

The album closes with “Not So Tough Found Out”. That’s the song that brings me to today, to right now. I’m not as tough as I’ve always seen myself, and I’m learning to be okay with that. How can one year bring about so much change? I ask myself that a lot. I guess one way to describe it is when you get the star power-up in Mario Kart. Everything speeds up around you and suddenly you’re one lap away from the finish line instead of two. You’re not concerned with what happens in the meantime, but, watching the playback, you see that you knocked Yoshi off the track and he ended up in eighth place.

Looking back on 2015 still hurts and still thrills, kind of like Copeland’s You Are My Sunshine. It gets so low, but then Aaron Marsh sings lines like “Could you be happy / To fall like a stone / If you’d land right here safe in my arms”, and I’m reminded of the guy who was able to bring me out of my grief, and the fact that when I get home tonight, he’ll be asleep on the couch because he tried to wait up for me to make sure I got home safely.

Maybe I’ve learned more about looking on the bright side because I don’t have my grandmother there to do it for me anymore. All I have is her example and the need to make her proud. I know I’m not going to do it perfectly, but I’m trying, and I think that’s what counts.

by Nadia Paiva

kiel_hauckNadia Paiva has been a music enthusiast since she can remember. Going to shows is her main pastime. The other is being upset when she can’t go to shows. This is her first official venture into writing about music. You can follow her on Twitter.