According to my Spotify Wrapped, I listened to 79,824 minutes of music this year. That translates to 55 days, or 15% of the entire year. During that time, I played 5,915 unique songs, an average of 16 different songs each day. How fun it is that we live in a time when this kind of data is available to the masses.
Typically, I end the year with a curated list of my top 10 albums. Tonight, on this final evening of 2024, I find myself wanting to give the spotlight to a single song. Among the nearly 6,000 songs I consumed this year, one of them reached into the fabric of my being and tapped into my soul. Musically, lyrically, vocally, and every which way a piece of music can be experienced, this one stole all the trophies. I'm listening to it right now as I type this.
My favorite song of 2024 goes to "Hall of Frozen Heads" by Foxing.
If I had to describe the song in one word, it would be sanguine. Both definitions of the word apply:
/ˈsaNGgwən/
optimistic or positive, especially in an apparently bad or difficult situation.
a blood-red color
While the song has a melancholy feel overall, it was written in the key of C Major. I've always associated C Major with wildly happy music. I love how Foxing took this otherwise happy, innocent key and turned it into something struggling to be happy, and almost gets there, but doesn't quite make it in the end.
"But why is your song of the year a melancholy song? Cheer up!"
Look, I spent my formative years and young adulthood being raised by the many sub-genres of emo music. In ways I can't quite explain, mournful music makes me happy. It makes me feel alive. I didn't choose this. It just sort of happened, and I'm okay with it.
Lyrically, "Hall of Frozen Heads" is a masterclass in metaphor. The singer describes his life as a memory that belongs to someone else. Later on, he compares himself to a jellyfish. The voice carrying these words seems to admit self-doubt and loss. He's not proud to share these things with us. But he does, and with that, in so many ways, vulnerability blooms.
During the bridge, he finds it within himself to break free from the negative self-talk:
I want to be Saul to Paul in Damascus
Awakened above the masses
The last gasp of God before the rapture
Chariotted high above a glass earth
This brief moment tells of a desire to be set free from what burdens him. It gives me chills every time I listen. It's not just the lyrics. The performance is just as gripping.
The thing that nearly kills me is the very end of the song. As the last chord fades out, the sound of a panting dog enters the room, followed by the singer whispering, "That's a good boy." It's a reference to his dog that passed away some years ago. It reminds me of my dear Frankie (RIP).
I believe this song will affect each listener in different ways. The possible interpretations, much like a David Lynch work, are seemingly endless. It's personal. It's poetic. It's strangely beautiful. It's the heart of the entire album (which I couldn't recommend enough). In a weird way, songs like this one peel back the curtain on what it means to be a human in this universe.
I hope you found a piece of music that moved you in the same way.
Happy New Year.
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