The curious part about being so into Bright Eyes is that I've always caught shit for it. The content is often at face value self-loathing, morbid, and... the descriptor I've heard the most- depressing. Conor's vocals are wavering, and many will say he sounds whiny. I get this, I hear that. But what stands out to me when I listen is this quiet sort of passion, one that is contemplative and observant. This is what I identify with the most.
I've always tried to shrug it off when others make fun of me for liking them. Even saying that it's too depressing or too whiny will make me feel a twinge, as if it's personal. I've learned to just let it slide, but it is as if there is a part of me that will never be able to be understood by those people. Now that I think about this more, though, is it really Bright Eyes, specifically? I know others that listen to them that don't hear it the same way I do. Maybe that part of me is easily unlocked with the same mentality that it takes to hear them as I do. Perhaps I have that nostalgic, adolescent connection with it that comes with hearing emotional music when your emotions are so malleable. I have no doubt that nostalgia plays a huge role, with any music. Some songs, particularly emotion-laden ones, become more powerful when they have a history- when you've added your own.
It's a little ironic that a band that I find to be so quiet and introspective is the one I end up listening to when no one is around, because no one wants to hear it. And for the most part, I'm totally okay with that.
Now, I can't have a post like this about Bright Eyes without mentioning Tabi. I'm having trouble remembering exactly how I came across them in the first place, but I'm fairly certain it was her doing. We submerged ourselves in these albums for years, devoutly poured over and transcribed lyrics. Every single thing I heard in their music, she heard ten-fold. I will forever be grateful for that one true connection that she provides.
Sunrise, sunset.
Sunrise, sunset.
Swiftly go the days.
Sunrise, sunset.
You wake up, then you undress.
It always is the same.
The sunrise and the sunsets.
You are lying while you confess, keep trying to explain.
The sunrise and the sunsets
You realize then you forget what you've been trying to retain.
But everybody knows that it is all about the things
that get stuck inside of your head,
like the songs your roommate sings
or a vision of her body as she stretches out on your bed.
She raised her hands in the air, asked you,
When was the last time you looked in the mirror?
Cause you've changed.
Yeah, you've changed.
Sunrises, sunsets.
You're hopeful then you regret.
The circle never breaks.
With a sunrise and a sunset there's a change of heart or address.
Is there nothing that remains?
For a sunrise or a sunset.
You're manic or you're depressed.
Will you ever feel ok?
For a sunrise or a sunset, your lover is an actress.
Did you really think she'd stay?
For a sunrise or a sunset.
You're either coming or you just left but you're always on the way.
Towards a sunrise or a sunset, a scribble or a sonnet.
They are really just the same.
To the sunrise and the sunset.
The master and his servant have exactly the same fate.
It's a sunrise and a sunset.
From a cradle to a casket.
There is no way to escape.
The sunrise and the sunset.
Hold your sadness like a puppet, keep putting on the play.
But everything you do is leading to the point
where you just won't know what to do.
And at that moment you may laugh
but there is someone there who will be laughing louder than you.
So it's true, the trick is complete.
Become everything you said you never would be.
You're a fool! You're a fool!
Sunrise, sunset, sunrise, sunset.
Sunrise and the sunsets.
Sunrise, sunset, sunrises, sunsets.
Sunrise and the sunsets.
Sunrise, sunset.
Go home to your apartment
and put the cassette in the tape deck and let that fever play.
Sunrise, sunset.
Where are you Arienette?
Where are you Arienette?
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