Thursday, September 17, 2015

A list of breakup songs where you can kind of see why the person got dumped


Warning: The following list is meanspirited and will probably feature artists or songs you like. 

“Someone Like You” by Adele. When this song came out, I kept reading all these articles written in the tone of America’s Spokesperson with headlines like “Why Adele Makes Us Cry” and I didn’t get it. This song does not make me feel sad, just annoyed and a little creeped out. Adele shows up at her ex’s home to tell him that for her, it isn’t over. That is not romantic. That is borderline stalker behavior. The album 21 featured talent but was overrated. After far too many breakup songs, “Someone Like You” ends the album with a possible explanation as to why the two didn’t work out.

“Losing My Religion” by REM. Sorry. I don’t have anything against REM but this is insufferably whiny. I’m assuming it’s about a breakup and not literally about religion. The melody and music are fine but Michael Stipe’s mewling lines like “And I don’t know if I can do it” and “Oh no, I’ve said too much” just brings out the soulless hardass in me that says “That’s why you’re alone.”

“How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?” by Michael Bolton. Boy, life with you must have been a barrel of laughs. Who could stand being with someone this hysterical? It sounds like he’s going to burst a blood vessel.

“Guess I’m Doing Fine” by Beck. Once in awhile I will listen to albums that disappointed me and see if time has changed my mind on them. I am sorry to say that I still hate Beck’s Sea Change. "It's only tears that I'm crying/It's only you that I'm losing/Guess I'm doing fine,” he sings. Sorry, but I will resist your obvious invitation for me to dump a bucket of self-pity over your head so you can wallow in it. I just … I hate this.

Most of the Smiths’ and Morrissey’s discography. God — GOD — I hate these people. Relentless sad sack self-pity is never a good look and the voice doesn’t help.

“One Less Bell to Answer” by the Fifth Dimension. “One less egg to fry,” Marilyn McCoo laments. “Why did he leave me?” she asks. You just answered your own question: You only made him one egg.  

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