Not sure what Crank That Hit! means? Go here. 

Right about now, my good friend Rachel is looking for an apartment in Los Angeles. It’s absolutely the best thing for her, not only because she’s talented and will find great opportunities there, but also because she’s just finished her doctorate and deserves a change of scenery. I am excited for her. Yet It makes me sad that this part of my life–the part where Rachel is close by–is over. 

I have a lot of experience with friends being far away. Either I move or they move, and the move is usually drastic–1,000 miles or more. The pain of it is less acute now, but there’s always some bittersweetness. Excited for the new chapter. Mourning what is lost. 

For me, these times always have a soundtrack. The next time you feel the happy ache of waving goodbye, I recommend you Crank That Hit!

(wave goodbye after the jump) 

(1) Just about anything by Patty Griffin

Patty Griffin’s voice is the sound of the happy ache. It’s beautiful, especially when she hits a soaring high note, but it has this jagged quality that always makes it sound like she’s husky with emotion.

Ad Griffin’s songs match the emotional quality of her voice. She sings about endings and regrets and bruised people finding fresh hope.

The video below is of “Heavenly Day,” a stirring song from her most recent album, Children Running Through. It captures what I’m talking about, right down to its lyric about deciding to be happy, dammit, in the face of it all.

The song that really makes me think about Rachel, though, is “We Are Water,” a bootleg track that you can’t hear online. It’s about the sadness of a friend leaving, so… duh. But it’s also breathtaking, full of furious acousting guitar and wails of loss that most of us feel we don’t have permission to make. If you ever come across a copy of it, I recommend burning it to your iPod or your brain.

 

(2) “Stockton Gala Days” by 10,000 Maniacs 

This song changed my life in high school. It’s from Our Time in Eden, the last Maniacs studio album to feature Natalie Merchant (and really, one of the best, most underappreciated albums of the nineties.) The rolling drum beat and Natalie’s final-verse wailing kill me. And the lyric is poignant and specific, not generic like so many “I’ll miss you” songs. Merchant tells a whole story about a magical summer with a close friend, but then cries out in the chorus that if that friend could see her now, she wouldn’t recognize her. “How I’ve learned to hide, how I’ve locked inside, you’d be surprised if shown,” she says, “But you’ll never know.”

And why won’t she know? Is the friend dead? Is Natalie ashamed? After the crisp detail of the verses, the ambiguity is powerful. The past is in focus, but the present is a blur. That’s the way it goes sometimes, when you feel like your best years are behind you. 

Like “We Are Water,” this song matches its subject with a propulsive rhythm and a vocal that goes wild at the end. I’m a sucker for that build-and-release structure. It mirrors the feeling of not being able to hold in your grief any longer.

(Note: The clip up there is of an unplugged performance, and Merchant’s goofy dancing kind of limits the power. But you get the idea.)

(3) “I’m Movin’ On” by Rascal Flatts

I have always appreciated Rascal Flatts for avoiding the cowboy hat tropes of most male country artists. In the songs I know, they don’t waste my time with some cooked-up image that seems cynically designed for the heartland, full of barebecues and jingoism. Instead, they just make pretty songs.

And “I’m Moving On” is especially pretty. It’s told from the perspective of the person who’s leaving… deciding he has to move away if he’s going to find his own place in the world.

 

(4) “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac

“This is for you, Daddy.” If you know Fleetwood Mac’s live recording of this song (from The Dance) then you know exactly what I’m talking about. This one is a permanent fixture in my shower rotation.

(5) “Midnight Train to Georgia” by Gladys Night and the Pips

A bit of a curveball, I know, but this one can put you in a good mood while you contemplate loss. The arrangement is just so sunny, it’s impossible to frown! 

Plus, I get enormous joy from the end of this song, when Gladys Knight starts hollering that she’s “got to go.” You can tell she means. There’s not discussion. She has got to GO. Love it! 

And of course, Gladys decides she’s going to be with her man, which lets you fantasize that you don’t have to wave goodbye to anyone. Just drop it all and run to them. It’s a comforting thought. 

Your turn! Which songs help you wave goodbye?