How The Angsty Music Of My Teens Is Getting Me Through Lockdown
Listening to ‘Through Glass’ by Stone Sour on repeat all day hits home in a totally different way in 2021 than it did in 2006.
When I was ever home alone as a teenager, I used to pace the house.
It was a form of escapism for me — escaping high school, or work, or the fact that I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do with my life. Any time my parents were out, my sisters gone, I’d use the small amount of time I had on my own to plug my headphones in and walk up and down the hallway, the empty rooms, holding whatever miniature iPod I had at the time and just let my brain go blank while listening to the shuffled songs.
Undoubtedly it was a weird habit — I could’ve gone for a walk anywhere outside around my hometown. But there was something about the stillness of the house and the ability to not have to concentrate on any distracting elements around me — traffic, people, animals — that gave me time to concentrate and appreciate the music I loved most in a different kind of way.
I probably don’t need to paint the portrait for you about what my life was like as a teenager if I was someone who found joy and safety in blasting emo tunes and being alone. Because who else does a depressed, lonely teenager turn to in the ‘00s other than the bands that made her feel less alone? My Chemical Romance, The Getaway Plan, The Amity Affliction, A Day To Remember, Underoath, Paramore, The Used…the list goes on.
The Great Stillness
As Sydney settles into lockdown — over five weeks in, another four to go — the quiet, the stillness, and the uncertainty of life has made me reach out to old friends again: the bands who offered me hope and acceptance in amongst their lyrics of despair and angst. In between voice memos with my real-life friends, phone calls back home, and mindless swiping through apps, the one thing that has provided me comfort like no other is replaying all the songs that gave me unconditional comfort and support back in the mid-late ‘00s.
The emotional expression through this music somehow calms my brain — it’s a genre I can escape into, giving my over-thinking personality a time to unwind, tap out and, maybe ironically, relax. It’s the equivalent of finally dropping my shoulders and unclenching my jaw. And like most Sydneysiders, and interstate mates, who have had to deal with snap lockdowns and life stopping as we know it, my jaw has been clenched a lot.
The feeling of taking in a big gulp of air after accidentally holding your breath for too long.
Beneath the angst, screams, or themes of stereotypical emo music also lies a rawness, a vulnerability, and an underlying sensitivity to offload the overarching themes of pain, depression, or heartbreak. From the outset, it may just be that the chaotic buildup of guitar riffs, one final guttural scream, or the theatrics of the genre are ultimately distracting enough to stop you from feeling what you’re feeling.
But the beauty of emo music is while one minute you can forget about your worries with a catchy beat like Paramore’s aptly titled ‘Hard Times’, it also has the power to make you reflect on the challenges life has been throwing you and songs like The Amity Affliction’s ‘Open Letter’ can ground you again. Like a big gulp of air after holding your breath.
Sometimes, it’s not as deep. Being locked down alone at home, the backing tracks of Polaris or Bring Me The Horizon can simply be something to fill in the quiet or, at the very least, get you motivated to do another home workout. Other times it’s the pure shot of unfiltered joy that enters your body when you hear a song you forgot about and watch it quickly make its way into your On Repeat on Spotify, because listening to ‘Through Glass’ by Stone Sour on repeat all day hits home in a totally different way in 2021 than it it did in 2006.
Sometimes it’s your friend sending you a band you haven’t heard of before, and getting swept up in listening to their entire catalogue, invoking feelings of nostalgia from your past when discovering new emo bands was like discovering new friends. Other times it’s just listening to Aussie bands like Hands Like Houses, The Getaway Plan, or Luca Brasi on repeat for four days straight, because it’s the music you crave to see again when freedom sets in and the lights go down at The Factory Theatre or Metro.
Ultimately, the one true feeling it does invoke every time, is the feeling of not being alone.
So while Sydney may not be out of lockdown any time soon, now more than ever is the time to find the small joys and wins in the things that do offer us comfort. And until the day we slowly reemerge into real life, I will remember to unclench my jaw, put in my headphones, and quietly pace my house.
Tahlia Pritchard is the editor of Punkee. You can follow her on Twitter.