There are times when life feels heavy, whether we can help it or not. It could be because all of the news headlines seem dour and we seem to be going straight to hell in a handbasket. Or it could be because of our own circumstances – lost job, lack of money, high stress, all of the above. It can become a heavy weight.
I’ve been through times when life gets so heavy, I just go numb. Instead of being sad and down, I decide to just not feel anything. I transcend the negativity and pretend everything is okay. But let me tell you, that is not a good way to cope. Unsurprisingly, it leaves you with an empty feeling. You feel better than everyone because you’re not subject to negativity, but at the same time, a void is left behind.
When I first heard Panic! at the Disco’s latest album, Pray for the Wicked, I wasn’t super impressed. I felt it was canned and overly poppy – just the same old, same old really. But I gave it a second listen and realized how infectious it was. As usual, Brendan Urie’s vocals are on point, soaring to the heights in almost every song. The album is also blatantly autobiographical. Many of Urie’s songs highlight the weight of fame, the highs and lows of publicity, and the artist’s struggle for inspiration and recognition. In the opening track, “F*ck A Silver Lining,” Urie chants, “When you gonna say my name?” as if egging us on to make his fame hit the charts (which it already has.) But in other tracks, he questions and laments the life he chose. In the piano-backed “Dying in L.A.,” his lyrics talk about losing yourself in order to gain the merits of fame. “Hey Look Ma, I Made It” is catchy and boppy but surprisingly empty.
And “King of the Clouds” is my absolute favorite. And not because it’s about drugs.
Day 2: “King of the Clouds” – Panic! At the Disco
Brendan states that when he was writing this song, he was obsessed with the metaphysical. Also, he was high. So that’s fine. The track opens with Urie:
Heaven knows that I’m born too late
For these ghosts that I chase
With these dreams I inflate, painted skies in my brain
Every day, I’m Carl Sagan in space
To escape this old world, this old world
Urie’s self-backed vocals are singing the melody in various octaves, with a touch of harmony. But as I was listening to this track for this post, I realized that there’s no real “bass” line to his chords. The result is ethereal and dreamy – slightly hollow, almost. Also, it’s the only track on the album to be in six-eight time (like a waltz time signature; the whole one-two-three one-two-three feelings.) You can almost feel it when you just look at the lyrics.
Some days I lie wide awake ’til the sun hits my face
And I fade, elevate from the Earth
Far away to a place where I’m free from the weight
This whole world, this whole world
Humans have been hypothesizing about space pretty much since we first existed. Urie references Carl Sagan in the first verse. Sagan is a big proponent of the multiverse theory. Maybe, Urie wonders, he’s right, and there’s a way to escape “this old world?”
In the meantime, there are other ways to escape. Like the numbing power of drugs and other vices. There’s a reason addictions are so addicting. They can take us “outside” of ourselves for a time, but we still have that empty, ungrounded feeling.
Like I said before, it can be easy to just kind of “shut off” when life gets hard. Checking out is much easier than engaging. But it’s not very rewarding. I’ve been taught that grabbing life by the horns – instead of running away – is usually more fulfilling. But it’s so dang hard.
And when I fall to rise with stardust in my eyes
In the backbone of night, I’m combustible
Dust in the fire when I can’t sleep, awake, I’m too tired
This whole world, this whole world
There are healthy ways to cope, though. Even to, dare I say, “transcend.” Cue art and music. This song deals with heavy subjects like drugs and low-key depression and/or disassociation, but it’s just so…catchy. And who doesn’t love catchy nihilism? I listen to this when I’m down and my mood usually shoots through the roof. Musically, it’s pretty on point, and lyrically it is too.
So get lifted. (Without drugs please. With art instead.)
Audrey D. DeBoer 