Kanye West, Fast as You Can

When it comes to music, I've always favored the sad sack male fronted rock variety.  Starting with The Cure in junior high (or maybe even further back with NKOTB's heartbreaker, "Please Don't Go, Girl"), through a college life of Ben Folds and Elliot Smith then on to early adulthood with Decemberists, Death Cab and Band of Horses.  I indulged in feeling sad or lonely, and then leaned into it by listening to music that was even sadder and lonelier.

But after Eleanor died, I could not stand basically any of the music I enjoyed up to that point.  I was so heartbroken that the last thing I wanted was anything that made me feel any lower or sadder.  

But I also couldn't stand silence either.  So I set out to try to find something that wasn't depressing or nostalgic.  Furthermore, happy and upbeat were also out.  Hard pass on all pop music, thanks.

Kanye West, turns out, fit the bill nicely.  It was good music, but meant nothing to me.  No memories attached to it.  It wasn't melancholy and self pitying.  

What it was - nihilist and angry - was a much better match for my insides to handle.  Songs like "Runaway" and and a Pandora station built around West brought along even more music suited to my new status of needing constant distraction without nostalgic attachment - Kid Cudi, Lupe Fiasco and T.I. 

Now, years later, this music is in regular rotation, even as I've been able to return to other types of music.  

I doubt any of these men, when pouring their hearts, brains and energy into their fantastic albums, pictured it being the solace of a thirty-something bereaved mother in suburban Arkansas. But I thank them, none the less.