This Is Happening: How The Oil Spill is Changing My Relation to Music

In the 1985 comic masterpiece Better Off Dead, John Cusack's character, Lloyd Dobbler, is driving his parent's station wagon away to anywhere. He's just been dumped by his girlfriend, and he's not in the mood to hear Neil Sedaka's "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" when it comes on the car stereo. He changes the station, after which Paul Simon's "Fifty Ways To Leave Your Lover" is heard and quickly rejected. The joke kicks in when "She's Gone" by Hall & Oates follows, and it's finished when Dobbler throws the stereo out the car after Linda Rondstadt's "Hurts So Bad" catapults him over the edge.

We've all been there. After a personal or shared tragedy, the songs we hear are sequenced by a higher power very aware of our situation, only to mess with us, it seems. It seems, as we are so sensitive, raw, and vulnerable. We latch onto lyrics when normally we wouldn't notice. And just like watching lovers holding hands, floating down the street, smiling sunshine, those lyrics can just remind you of hurt. We're on our hands and knees, looking for a message, some kind of guidance. Sometimes we know exactly where to look.

When my friend/roommate was going through a bad breakup in college, I didn't see him much. I did hear two songs blasting from his room at all hours, though: Ben Lee's "Ship My Body Home" and Elliott Smith's "Waltz #2". Only those two, again and again. I didn't mind, because, for one, I knew he was using them for catharsis, and two, they were great songs. In a way I felt honored that I got to live through that process with him. Of course, if he had somehow never recovered, I wouldn't be saying that, but he's married with two kids.

When my grandmother died I had TV on the Radio's "Wolf Like Me" on repeat.



It's a great crazed/singing in your car-kinda song. And then when my grandfather went, the only album I listened to on my way to and from Natchez, Mississippi was Soundgarden's Superunknown. That's a exceptional, dark album that can get really evil and angry. Perfect for a state of confusion.



With the oil spill, that feeling of confusion has been joined by a feeling of hopelessness. I've been incensed but I've kept my regular life together, somehow. As we've gotten deeper and deeper into the spill, as my silent rage has been building and building, songs that I'm very familiar with have taken on new meaning.



Most of the music I pull towards the spill comes from two artists: Radiohead and Rage Against The Machine. Which is no surprise, I guess. They're both political, one more than the other. But when I hear Radiohead's "Just," and the words "you do it to youself/and that's what really hurts," I now become a criminal to many people, not just myself. I used to hear it as a self-pity anthem, but now I think about throwing money at the oil industry since I was sixteen.



Radiohead's "2+2=5" is a great way to point the finger at everyone else. "Are you such a dreamer/to put the world to rights" is a line I used to associate with George W. Bush, but now it points to BP's obstruction of the press and their access to the spill. The song hits it's emotional and lyrical apex with the following lines: "It's the devil's way now/there is no way out/you can scream and you can shout/it is too late now/because you have not been paying attention." We should have seen this coming. All the spills that preceded it, the way the government allowed the oil industry to slide with loose safety regulations in exchange for dollars. This song is a prime conduit for guilt and self-righteous anger. A shouter, for sure.



Can you guess who the bulls are?



The next one hurts the most. Radiohead's "Like Spinning Plates." I've always loved this song, but the lyrics didn't mean anything until now. Every word is relatable. The words "this just feels like spinning plates" are the lyrical centerpiece and express how I feel about the red tape we've had to cut through to get the slightest things done. And how, right now, there's still oil coming out of the sea floor. Do you remember how the president's televised oil spill speech sounded more like a way to further his agenda than affect change? The first lyrics are "While you make pretty speeches/I'm being cut to shreds." The next is "You feed me to the lions." This spill is Obama's and he hasn't owned it. He doesn't understand how bad this will get and how poorly history will look at him for his poor handling of it. If he knew, he would have done what he should have, which is camp out on the coast until the oil flow is stopped. Might seem unreasonable, but I don't think there'd still be oil flowing if he had. Let Biden deal in D.C. while he makes sure everything goes as quickly as possible down here. The final lines are "And this just feels like spinning plates/I'm living in cloud cuckoo land/And this just feels like spinning plates/Our bodies floating down the muddy river." Cuckoo land? I'm already there.



The last Radiohead-related song is Thom Yorke's "Black Swan." It's pretty easy to be defeated while listening to this one. Choice lyrics: "Do yourself a favor and pack your bags/Buy a ticket and get on the train/cause this is fucked up, fucked up." I've thought about it, especially with all the benzene in the air.



The last one is Rage Against The Machine's "Wake Up." I walk around, hang out and talk and hear nothing about the spill. Everything but the spill. I understand denial, because I'm not exactly talking about it at every turn. Why would I? Such a downer, dude. But, we're dying, and we need to own up and speak. Educate each other, and if you're not sure what to do, do what comes natural. Talk. Everything else will follow.