1.”Gymnopedie No. 1″ by Erik Satie

It’s important to start your bedtime playlist with a song by an old dead white guy. I first heard this particular Erik Satie song in that Angelina Jolie movie, Gia. Now I’m not sure if it’s because I was on enough muscle relaxers to tranquilize a baby elephant or if this song was really that chill but I recall sleeping like a baby that night. Unfortunately, I forgot all about the song and its amazing sleeping powers until I heard it in a hipster clothing store years later. Having no shame (and, more importantly, no access to Shazam) I went up to the employee and asked him who “sang” this track. He was just like, “What? Don’t talk to me. Just look at the iPod,” and when I found out who it was, I downloaded it right when I got home. It’s earned a permanent spot on every nighttime playlist since.

2. “Blue In Green” by Miles Davis

You know how when some people describe their favorite music, they say weird things like, “It feeds my soul!” and you’re just like, “Excuse me?” Well, Some Kind Of Blue by Miles Davis is a record that feeds my soul. I don’t know how else to explain it. It just transports me to another (happier and mellow) place. I always listen to it after I’ve had a bad day, preferably in the bath or when I’m in bed, and it makes me feel so warm and safe. Even now, listening to it on my headphones at this coffee shop where I’m writing this post, I’m getting chills and it’s super embarrassing.

3. “Like An Ion” by Sciflyer

I first heard this song in 2004 on one of those music samplers you would get for free in a magazine. Most of the bands would suck but occasionally you would find a track by some obscure band that you would obsess over. I was just beginning to really get into shoegaze, a genre of music made most known by bands like My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive, and I was instantly struck by the distant vocals and dreamy guitars in this song. I remember driving back from my college orientation in Orange County with my mom listening to this slice of hazy heaven and being lulled to sleep by it. Have you ever tried to sleep during a car ride with your mom? It’s like really freaking hard.

4.”Blue Motel Room” by Joni Mitchell

I’m convinced that Joni Mitchell was sent to this earth to make me feel things. Her music is better than any therapy session I could conjure, especially the songs on Blue and Hejira. She really wasn’t screwing around, was she? She wanted her listeners to experience all the joy and heartbreak with her. We couldn’t get away with anything. She held up a mirror to our life so perfectly and wouldn’t shy away from exposing painful universal truths.

5.”Asleep” by The Smiths

This is the anthem of sentimental gay boys everywhere. I mean, how could I not include it on the list? If Joni Mitchell is your emotional mom who believes in the healing powers of crystals, Morrissey is totally your closeted father who cries himself to sleep every night.

6.”Little Star” by Stina Nordenstam

I found this song on the life-altering Romeo + Juliet soundtrack and immediately put it in my nighttime rotation. It starts off all delicate, like someone is tickling you with a feather, but then it becomes all jazzy and spiritual?! It’s total Mom Music, which is a genre of music I can wholeheartedly get behind. (Except for Goyte.)

7.”Four Corners” by The Sea And Cake

The Sea And Cake is a shockingly dull band. All the band members must’ve gotten together and been like, “We want to make music that renders people unconscious. How do we do that?” No shade though because what their music lacks in energy, it makes up for in being the perfect band to fall asleep to. Just don’t listen to them any other time, okay? Seriously.

8. “Willie Deadwilder” by Cat Power

When putting together a playlist for bedtime, it’s important to end it with a lengthy song just in case you can’t fall asleep right away. I swear, it’s the worst feeling when the playlist ends and you’re still GODDAMN AWAKE. “Willie Deadwilder” by Cat Power is almost 20 minutes long so if you’re not asleep by the time it ends, you have my permission to screw the playlist and take an Ambien instead. I tried, y’all!

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…I got in an argument with my ex the other day, which led to me making a passionate speech. She was mad about something vitally important, and I got mad back. When I get mad I become incoherent along the lines of a well-educated five year old. “I feel like I’m being burnt at the stake here!” I yelled. “Yes, I feel like I’m being burnt at the stake, like, like… Joan of Arc or something! Yes, you’re burning me at the stake like I’m Joan of Arc!” Good one; way to go, self! Man, passionate speech is always a bad idea.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” my ex said, which made no sense in context. Then she threw a glass at me. Eventually, we got over it. Later on, I sat in bed, sulking after our fight. I rubbed my left arm, which has a tattoo of the Cross of Lorraine, which is a French Fascist symbol (didn’t learn that one until after I got the tattoo), as well as a symbol of Joan of Arc. Did I want to be Joan of Arc? My ex’s stupid words still made no sense.

_____

So. This year marks the 670th anniversary of the death of Joan of Arc. That’s a little #grimanddark, but we can’t celebrate her birth, because we don’t know exactly when she was born.

On May 30th, 1431, she was executed in front of a crowd in the village marketplace in Rouen, in northern France. Her last words were “Jesus!” — which are pretty good last words, I guess. However, Joan of Arc had a fairly practical reason for saying “Jesus!” She was shouting the word “Jesus” because she was being goddamn burned alive.

And why should you care about Joan of Arc’s death? You should care about it because Joan of Arc was amazing and awesome.

_____

As a kid, I was obsessed with Joan of Arc, because I read in a book that she was “burnt to the stake.” Because I couldn’t spell correctly, and because I had confused cartoons with reality, I thought this meant that when she was burned to death, all that was left of her was a juicy T-bone steak. This obviously turned out not to be true, but the whole steak/stake thing was sufficiently gory to capture my imagination, and so I started reading lots of books about Joan of Arc and about medieval history.

Anyway, where was I? So. Joan of Arc. So in reality, when she was killed, Joan of Arc did not metamorphose into a steak, T-bone or porterhouse or otherwise. In reality, she was burned until she was nothing. Ashes and nothing.

_____

After Joan of Arc was dead, troubadours claimed that she was followed into battle by gossamer clouds of birds and butterflies, who trailed along in pursuit of her banner. This is, of course, complete bullshit.

But Joan of Arc did do amazing things. She fought in battle after being shot by an arrow. She jumped from a two-story building onto her horse. To escape prison, she jumped 70 feet from the window of a tower — and was completely unhurt. …And also, oh yeah, she crowned a king, rescued a city, and saved the nation of France.

Oh, and she may also have talked to God.

_____

…Signs and wonders. Who was she? She was no one; a nobody from nowhere. But as a teenager, Joan started hearing voices from God. These voices told her to go to the prince’s court; they told her that she would take the prince to the city of Rheims, where she would crown him king. They told her that she would capture the city of Orleans and force the English out of France.

And she did it all. It was ridiculous to think that a teenage girl in the 15th century could do anything like this, but she did it. And she wasn’t just a girl but a broke illiterate peasant girl. A peasant from a town in the middle of nowhere. Still, she crowned a king and led an army, she saved the city of Orleans from the English.

France had been losing a war to England for a generation. It had no king. England ruled the kingdom of France. Joan of Arc fixed all of this. She saved an entire country.

_____

But no one saved her. She told her people that archangels had spoken to her. She saved the city; she made a king. She did both of those things. And then the king asked her to recapture Paris from the English.

This is the weird part. Joan’s reply was this: “Um, God never said that I would do that.” That’s weird. Usually when people are crazy, they become, like, megalomaniacal. But Joan wasn’t crazy. We have hundreds of pages of transcripts from her trial. She was normal and modest and polite. She was normal and modest and polite even though she was an eighteen year-old on trial for her life, and the trial was rigged, and she knew this.

Usually when people say that they talked to God and can now perform miracles, a standard thing happens. They end by saying this, “Oh, and God al-lllso said that you should give me all your money! And have sex with me!” …Y’know. Stuff like that.

Joan never said anything like that. Which is why I still wonder if she actually talked to the archangels. Maybe she did. When the king asked her to capture Paris, she said (and I’m paraphrasing here),”Um, the angels never said anything about that, but I’ll give it a shot.”

It didn’t work out. She never made it to Paris. The English captured her in a small town miles away from Paris. They grabbed her from her horse and threw her to the ground. And then they put her on trial for her life, in the city of Rouen. Her king could have easily paid a ransom and saved her life, but he didn’t. No one knows why.

_____

And then she lost the trial, which was rigged anyway. …We think that things are going to save us, that someone or something is going to intercede, but are we so sure? No one saved Joan of Arc, after all. God didn’t step in to save her, and her king certainly didn’t. They let her burn.

“…Ah, Rouen,” she said. “I fear that some great thing may happen to you on account of my death.” …She was standing on a stage, surrounded by pieces of wood — the wooden stage; the pieces of wood that would be used to burn her. She was facing all the townspeople. What did it all look like to her? Were the townspeople dirty? Did they smell bad? Was there a horse standing off in the distance? Was someone in the front row maybe not paying attention, maybe picking his nose? It must have all looked so vivid to her. What could she have been thinking at that moment? It’s so rare to know that you’re doing something for the last time; the last time that you sleep with a lover or anything like that. These were the last words that she would ever say; these were her last seconds on earth.

“I fear that some great thing may happen to you on account of my death,” she said.

And then the executioner set her on fire.

_____

…After she was burned, the English parted the coals around her body, so that the crowd could see that she was really dead. Then they burnt her body again. And then they burnt her body a third time. They reduced her body to pure ash, so that no one from the crowd could take a relic to remember her by.

A few hours after her execution, the executor was found drunkenly stumbling around Rouen. He was moaning to himself. “We are damned!” he said. “We have burnt a saint!”

The English took Joan of Arc’s ashes and put them in a bucket, and then they dumped the bucket into the river Seine. The river Seine flows from a plateau in the heart of France to the Atlantic Ocean.

So after she was dead, Joan of Arc’s ashes were carried by the river current. They traveled north, past Paris, where she had never been; then further north, past the town where she was born. The river continued north, until it met landfall, oceanfall, and then the river became the sea. Her ashes were carried out into the ocean, which she had never seen.

Her ashes are still a part of the ocean. 

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Face it, we’re just a bunch of judgmental divas when it comes to looking for a mate, aren’t we? Now, when we try online dating, we X people out of our lives before they ever enter them. It could be for something as simple as revealing that your favorite book is The Secret or that, when it comes to music, you like everything but country. One wrong move and you’re gone! Poof! On to other bigger and better people!

This is all done in order to help narrow your search down but sometimes I feel like we let it hurt us more than help. We’re given free rein to have as many dealbreakers as we want. One misstep and someone is withdrawn from consideration. Why? Because we believe that there are SO many other options. So many other user profiles that could better fit your interests. So, yeah, let’s discard the “everything but country” guy. We can afford it! Why not?!

More and more, it seems like we’re getting in our own way when it comes to finding a BF/GF. Online dating, in particular, allows you to meet a wide array of people and have new experiences but instead, we freak out and create arbitrary rules to prevent us from actually liking someone. It’s hard to admit that maybe you’re the problem, you’re the one who is keeping yourself curled up with Netflix on a Saturday night. “WHO ME? Well, I’m sorry if I don’t want to go on a date with someone who quotes the Dalai Lama!” Well, who does make the cut? Someone who likes “cool” bands and posts hazy pictures of themselves riding bikes, and has a heightened sense of self-awareness? Someone exactly like you? Boring. The fun thing about dating different people is trying on unique dynamics. Go on a date with the Dali Lama person! Why not? What do you have to lose? Being interested in carbon copies of yourself is obviously not getting you anywhere. For a long time, I thought that if a boy liked The Smiths it meant that we were, like, soul mates or something. And guess what?! I was wrong! Crappy people can love The Smiths just as much as I do!

I’m not suggesting something as extreme as going on a date with a diehard Christian if you’re an atheist. What I’m saying is that you should keep an open mind. The last person I would want to be with is another writer who is just like me, likes the same music, tells the same jokes. I want someone whose strengths are my weaknesses and vice versa. Someone I can have common ground with but also still learn a lot from. That’s something we often forget — differences can often be just as important as similarities. With online dating, we’re given a buffet of people and we need to stop sticking to what we know. Sometimes you meet the best kind of people when you let yourself be uncomfortable and take a risk. I’ve formed strong bonds with people I would’ve never expected to because I took off my Judge Judy glasses for a sec and let myself be open-minded.

The next time someone reaches out to you for a date online, take a second to see what they’re all about before you’re just like “Ew. Weird font choice and likes The Fray?!! Goodbye!” Say “yes” to someone you would’ve said “no” to and see what happens. Honestly, you have nothing to lose. And if they turn out to be a creep, you can take solace in knowing that you’re always right as you curl up to another Saturday night Netflix k-hole.

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Imagine being roofied, but instead of getting sexually violated in your spaced out state, you get all your plaque and tartar removed. Professionally.

That’s the basic idea behind sedation dentistry. Dentists, realizing that most people severely dislike having sharp metal and strange phalanges enter their mouth, have found a way to triple the number of patients they see each day: Drugs. Good ones.

Admittedly, the roofie analogy may be a bit hyperbolic. After all, patients of sedation dentistry — unlike college freshman — are well aware of the pharmacological agents they’re taking, and the intended effects. But you get the picture.

Sedation dentistry is a hit with both patients and practitioners: Patients have their primal fears and anxieties alleviated long enough to bitch-slap decay and gingivitis, while practitioners earn enough extra cash to build a new wing onto their beach house.

Which brings us to the only real drawback of sedation dentistry: The cost. It can be prohibitively expensive for the average Joe. Many insurance companies won’t cover it unless it is deemed medically necessary. And let’s face it, unless you suffer from seizures or Tourette Syndrome, receiving sedation to have your teeth cleaned or lightly drilled is not medically necessary.

But don’t let your lack of disposable income dash your dreams of pain- and panic-free dentistry. Instead, consider taking care of the sedation part yourself. Fortunately, there are several options available to you:

Benzodiazepines. Popping a Valium, Xanax or other benzo half an hour prior to your appointment will give you the most authentic sedation dentistry experience. After all, these are the drugs most commonly administered by actual licensed practitioners.

Benzos are ideal for people who suffer moderate to severe anxiety before and during routine checkups. If you have a history of vomiting or cutting yourself over the mere thought of a professional dental cleaning, benzos are the way to go.

Narcotic painkillers. Vicodin, OxyContin, Percocet or Percodan can help to reduce anxiety with the added benefit of making you feel invincible. It’s not uncommon for patients who pop these pills to dare the dentist to pull out all their healthy teeth without the use of anesthesia. In most cases, the dentist declines.

One of the benefits of narcotic painkillers is that they make it easier (than benzos) to remain awake throughout the appointment, which is important if you don’t want to miss your chance to rinse or to receive your free toothbrush.

Marijuana. Now we are moving into less conventional methods of DIY sedation for dental visits. Marijuana — though rarely if ever administered by licensed dental practitioners outside of Amsterdam or Humboldt County — can certainly help to relax patients enough to get them through a cleaning or other basic procedure. It’s often a little easier to score than pain meds or benzos; however, there is a greater chance that patients who use marijuana just prior to a checkup will develop serious concerns about the dentist or hygienist being an undercover cop.

If you do choose THC to sedate you at the D.D.S., it’s recommended you use a vaporizer rather than a bowl, bong or joint. Most dental practitioners will refuse to treat you if marijuana smoke comes billowing out of your mouth during an appointment. And even if they do decide to proceed, the contact high they receive could have detrimental effects on their performance — possibly leaving you bleeding or blind.

If you cannot get your hands on or afford a vaporizer, consider ingesting marijuana brownies prior to your dental visit. Just be sure the brownie mix is sugar-free — otherwise it somewhat defeats the purpose.

Alcohol. For those of you who are desperate for low-stress dental care but who have no solid drug connections, there is always liquor. If it was good enough to anesthetize cowboys in the Old West during root canals and bullet extractions, it’s good enough to deaden your fear and minor discomfort during your biannual exam.

Take a shot or four of vodka, whiskey or tequila within an hour of your appointment, and then suck on five Hall’s cough drops 10 minutes before the appointment. If the dentist or hygienist asks why your breath is so mentholated, tell them you have a cold. If they ask why you keep falling out of the exam chair, hiccupping, and trying to pick fights with other patients, tell them you just returned from Afghanistan.

Radiohead. If drug or alcohol use is out of the question (e.g., you are straight edge, a recovering addict/alcoholic, exceedingly boring, etc.), you might consider listening to painfully depressing music to help take your mind off your dental angst. Many patients who’ve listened to Radiohead’s Ok Computer album in its entirety leading right up to their visit to the dentist report excellent results. Others have had similar success with The Smiths, Snow Patrol or Nick Drake.

Should you decide to give this approach a go, be careful not to overdo it or mix the aforementioned musicians. Doing so could result in you aggressively pleading with the dentist to jab your gums with a hook just so you can feel something.

NOTE: Regardless of which method of DIY sedation you select, be sure you have somebody to drive you to and from the dentist office — preferably somebody who hasn’t gotten into your stash or listened to your music.

Sedation dentistry. You owe it to your teeth and gums. Your liver will forgive you.

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Something in the Way, Nirvana

The title of this song (which doubles as the chorus) allegedly describes Cobain’s struggles with depression, i.e. there’s always something in the way of his being happy, feeling better. That sentiment paired with extraordinarily somber vocals makes “Something in the Way” one of Nirvana’s more emotional — and depressing — songs.

Is That All There Is?, Peggy Lee

“Is That All There Is?” articulates three ‘coming of age’ experiences with sheer disappointment and detachment, uniting each event with an awful disillusionment that sort of makes you not want to live anymore. The song’s mid-tempo beat attempts to mask the bleakness of its lyrics, but that dichotomy only serves to depress the listener further. In my experience.

No Surprises, Radiohead

“No Surprises” depicts sadness and disenchantment in a simple, no-frills kind of way. Radiohead has no shortage of depressing songs in their catalog, but “No Surprises” is the one to turn on when you’re feeling overwhelmingly ‘over it.’ And by ‘it,’ I mean life.

It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding), Bob Dylan

A protest song for defeatists, “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding”) expresses Dylan’s scorn for contemporary (1965) American culture. With lyrics void of optimism, it’s difficult to listen to this song and not feel completely powerless.

Nothing Compares 2 U, Sinead O’Connor

This song so perfectly describes the initial stages of heartbreak: the desperation, the denial, and the sort of pathetic groveling only a heartbroken person is capable of. Makes me want to take Sinead out for ice cream every time I hear it.

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want, The Smiths

There’s something about quietly begging an unknown entity for something to go right for once that strikes me as equal parts relatable and miserable.

Sometime Around Midnight, Airborne Toxic Event

The ultimate Seeing-The-Ex-Who-Broke-Your-Heart anthem, “Sometime Around Midnight” is an emotional rollercoaster that ultimately leaves you wishing your cart would derail.

Mad World, Gary Jules

This Tears for Fears cover accurately describes loneliness in a crowd without relying on cliché. While it’s not his song, Jules does “Mad World” the justice its haunting lyrics deserve.

Oh Well, Okay, Elliott Smith

“Oh Well, Okay” perfectly captures the mutual isolation that comes along with loving someone who’s suddenly become indifferent toward you. The resolution of the song is both exasperated and pained, likely similar to the relationship it describes.

White Houses, Vanessa Carlton

While it’s the most upbeat song on this list, “White Houses” is its own special brand of sad. Carlton’s story of a particularly eventful summer paints images of youth and regret in the listener’s mind. I feel 5% emptier every time I hear it.

Everybody Hurts, REM

Expected as it is, “Everybody Hurts” makes for a great depressing song because it appeals to very base, overarching emotions that you feel almost idiotic for harboring. The repetitive call to “hold on” is especially chilling when you’re in a dark place.

Brick, Ben Folds Five

“Brick” is just so goddamn sad. Before I knew anything about abortion, I knew that. Based on Folds’ high school girlfriend, the lyrics convey a secretive, confusing, heartbreaking experience that all too many people can relate to. The contrast between Folds’ trademark ‘fun piano guy’ persona and “Brick” adds another grim shade of context to the song.

As I Sat Sadly By Her Side, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

No list of depressing songs would be complete without a contribution from Nick Cave, whose lack of faith in humanity is evident in “As I Sat Sadly By Her Side.” If you’ve ever dated a depressed person (or been a depressed person), the air of helplessness and alienation in this song really strikes a chord.

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Hi teenagers,

Don’t roll your eyes at me. This is serious. I’m here to give you some helpful advice and it will only take a second. Then you can go to In N’ Out and eat your animal fries, drink Smirnoff, sulk in your bedroom, or whatever it is you kids do these days.

First and foremost, I want you to know that what your feeling right now is 90% bogus. Like it’s just not real. Your brain is just freaking out and doing somersaults right now. It’s not your fault. You’re actually mentally deficient. When you go to college, it will start to even itself out and you’ll settle into who you are. When you’re in high school, it’s like you’re going personality shopping. You’re browsing through the racks wondering, “Do these straightedge pants fit? How about these druggie ones? What you’ll learn later on (like three years max after you graduate) is that you can be lots of different things. When you’re a teenager, you’re constantly searching for things that can tell you who you are. “Does this Smiths record adequately explain who I am? What about this Who poster?” Sadly, some people never grow out of this. They’re always looking to the external to define the internal and it’s super sad. What most people learn however, is that music, clothes, books, are like added seasonings to an already flavorful personality. They don’t make up the inner core but they certainly make for nice dressing.

Everything you’re crying about will make you laugh in about five years. Every meltdown you’ve ever had will bring you immense joy later on. You don’t have the beauty of hindsight when you’re in the throes of teenage grief but you do in your twenties! And, boy, is it a wonderful thing to know that most of the melancholy you experienced ultimately didn’t matter. Your parents were right about that one. Your parents are right about 60% of the time. The other 40% are lies that are meant to scare you straight. Or because they’ve actually forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager.

Oh, your parents! Unless they’re actually terrible people and you are the child called It, you’ll like them again. Honestly, you’ll like them the second you move out. As you get older, you begin to see your parents as real people (“Oh, weird, I think my mom is the black sheep of her family. That must really hurt her feelings.” Or “My dad worked really hard to keep us above the poverty line. How did he do it? I can barely write a ten-page paper on gender politics.”) Distancing yourself from “Mom” and “Dad” and embracing then as flawed individuals will humanize them, and then you’ll feel like a total jerk for all those years of hell you put then through.

You know your best friend? The one you call your “wifey” or “twin” and spend literally all of your waking hours with? The one who, like, really knows you? Yeah, they might not be your best friends in a few years. You might get into a major fight and never speak again or, worse, slowly drift apart like a needle being pricked on your skin over and over again. Your goals might change, they might move far away and build a different life for themselves. It sucks but it’s what happens when you have days, months, and years working against you. So cherish the moments you have now. There is no friendship quite as electric as the best friend you have in high school.

Don’t do anything harder than weed. Your brain is not fully formed yet and you will be forever altered if you mess with the serious stuff. Save it for your twenties.

A lot of the things you’re learning in school won’t matter BUT it does teach you how to do things you don’t want to do, which is a valuable lesson.

Have sex but not with too many people. Your body might be saying “Let’s go” but your heart is whispering “No!”

Lastly, get ready to feel intense nostalgia for this period of your life for, like, ever.

Signed,

A psycho 25-year-old

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Band names are tough. Keep in mind that your name has to fit on fliers and drum kits, and it can’t already be taken by an Icelandic pop-punk trio or a non-profit organization fighting childhood illiteracy. At this point, your pickings are probably pretty slim. (I imagine this is how we ended up with Hoobastank and The The.) So it’s no surprise when bands adopt other bands’ song titles. And if you’re searching other artists’ discographies for a clever band name, your hunt may well lead you to The Smiths. With wordy song titles that run from the melodramatic to the wry, The Smiths are a one-stop shop for your as-yet-unnamed band. But do these bands sound anything like their inspiration? As one such Smiths-inspired band, Girl in a Coma, releases their fourth album this week, we’re ranking Smiths-derived bands from least to most Smithy.

5. Pretty Girls Make Graves

Named after a track on The Smiths’ eponymous debut album (itself derived from a line in Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums), PGMG are the least Smithy-sounding of our lineup — with their riot-grrrl shrieks, they sound more like a fusion of Sonic Youth and The Pixies. But while they were together, Pretty Girls Make Graves attracted an audience not unlike The Smiths’: mopey and sarcastic youth. The music is more relentless and visceral, but the message, when stripped of its screaming guitars, is very Smithy indeed.

4. Panic at the Disco

Baroque pop duo Panic! At The Disco aren’t the Smithiest band in the world, but there’s much that vocalist Brendon Urie and drummer Spencer Smith get right from their forebears. While The Smiths are often remembered for their miserablism, the glamor and flamboyant, tongue-in-cheek attitude of Panic! At The Disco is a part of The Smiths’ story too. (You can’t listen to “Girlfriend in a Coma” and argue that the Smiths were all misery.) The two bands share a penchant for grandiosity, romanticism, and whimsy. Plus, note Urie’s Morrissey-esque preening charisma.

3. Girl In a Coma

An all-female rock band featuring two Mexican-American sisters and a lesbian bass player is practically a Smiths song in and of itself, and Morrissey himself confirmed this by having the group open for him on his 2007 tour. Lead singer Nina Diaz’s voice is a key aspect of the band’s Smithiness — like Moz’s before her, Diaz’s voice moves from a lonely howl to pop sprightliness. Girl in a Coma also evoke The Smiths’ confrontational spirit: amidst familiar romantic themes, they also tackle more political topics like Arizona’s controversial immigration law.

2. Shakespears Sister

Like Morrissey, Siobhan Fahey famously struggled with depression and used her music as a means to quiet her inner turmoil. But the Smithiest quality of Shakespears Sister was their knack for self-parody — the group fearlessly lampooned their own misery, much like The Smiths circa The Queen is Dead.

1. Gene

Naming themselves after The Smiths’ 1983 B-side “Jeane” resulted in Gene being plagued with Smiths comparisons throughout their career, right until their split in 2004. Like Morrissey, Gene frontman Martin Rossiter’s was known for his preening performances on stage and was constantly fielding speculative comments about his sexuality. Finally, check out the group’s album covers — Gene’s aesthetic shamelessly apes The Smiths’ appropriation of art-world images and fondness for eerie color-washes. There is no way you can look at the cover art for Gene’s single “For The Dead” and not think of The Queen is Dead.

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image – The Sound of the Smiths: The Very Best of the Smiths

I love The Smiths. I’m sure this is truly shocking information that’s bound to surprise everyone. I mean, I can’t believe I’m even sharing this with you guys. It’s been my scarlet letter for so long—”O” for Obvious Homosexual Music Choice. But listen, The Smiths taught alternative gays how to love men. It was the oxygen our closeted asses needed to breathe. Morrissey sang what our hearts needed to hear, which was, “I’m sad, horny, and can someone please have sex with me?”

I first heard The Smiths in the most uncool way possible. I was 13 years old and doing the chores around the house when I had heard an angelic voice begin to waft through the TV. We had Direct TV at the time (so chic) and I had put it on an eighties music satellite radio station to listen to while I Cinderella’d my way through the living room. Upon hearing that tortured voice, I dropped my broom immediately and rushed over to the TV to see who it was. When I saw that it was The Smiths, I instantly thought of the book, Perks of Being A Wallflower, and that song “Asleep.” “I know this band. They’re way influential,” I thought to myself. “I should check them out ASAP and tell my friends about them. Instant indie cred!” At 13, I only had a blurry watercolor of my gayness. I knew it was strange that I was so obsessed with Mary Cherry and Nicole Julian from Popular, and I definitely felt weird about the fact that I occasionally wore a shirt around my head so I could have long hair, but I couldn’t really grasp the concept of loving men. I wasn’t ready for that yet. But over the years, The Smiths and Morrissey began to teach me how.

I became one of those people who was so profoundly touched by a band’s music. Their lyrics mirrored my feelings exactly and when they were layered upon those jangly guitars, I was in heaven. Although I remained in the closet for a few more years, I was unabashedly in love with The Smiths. I even put that super gay poster of Johnny Marr and Morrissey on my wall, which completely confused my parents and friends. “I just really love them, okay?”, I would tell them. I remember spending countless hours in my bedroom staring at the ceiling and listening to Morrissey wail on my stereo. He became much more than a musician to me; he was my mentor. He was telling me the big gay secrets of the world and teaching me about love and heartbreak. I ate it up and then cried… a lot because, damn, his stuff is depressing.

Over time, I stopped listening to The Smiths so much and they became sort of like an afterthought. When someone would ask me what my favorite band was, I would have to think for a moment before remembering The Smiths. But that doesn’t mean I love them any less. When I listen to them now, it’s like a special treat. They still fill me with joy, which is rare with a band I loved in high school. All the others — Rilo Kiley, Modest Mouse, Tilly & The Wall — died a fiery death but The Smiths were spared.

I recently had the pleasure of seeing Morrissey perform at Carnegie Hall, but I unfortunately don’t remember any of it. My anxiety with crowds became unbearable so I took half a Xanax before the show started. Big mistake. All I can recall is someone trying to rush the stage and Morrissey being like, “Um, no.”

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You can expect to be surrounded by lots of music. I’ll gift you with a lot of mixed “tapes”, which I’ll spend too much time on (“Which Smiths song should I include? Can I put this Stone Roses jam on here or is it too obviously romantic? I don’t want him to think that I’m sending him messages via a song!”) These mixed tapes are important to me because they create something tangible. If we ever break up, I can put the tapes in a shoebox to remind myself that this love occurred.

You can expect to be taken to lots of dinners and movies. On the surface, I abhor traditional dates but deep down, I love something as simple as Dinner And A Movie. I’m not about to go parasailing on the third date, okay? You can’t see me sweat and do something physical until at least the 8th date.

You can expect a lot of apologizes from me for nothing at all. It’s a nervous tic—apologizing profusely for things that don’t matter and I hate that I do it. I actually want to tell you, “Sorry cause I’M NOT SORRY. I’m only apologizing as some sort of self-loathing exercise.” If you think I’m genuinely apologetic for accidentally taking a sip from your water, you are just as delusional as I am—in which case, we should definitely get married!

You can expect spending a lot of days in bed and ignoring people’s phone calls. I’m really into going off the grid and getting high on each other for nine hours. Has anyone noticed that when you spend all day in bed with a lover, it feels like a drug binge? You’re just addicted to touching their body and you feel like time is standing still. Before you know it, the day is gone and all you’ve accomplished is each other. You spent the day laying in bed naked watching people go by on the street who weren’t in love and doing errands and “making the most of their day”. You’re glad you aren’t them. You’re glad to do nothing.

You can expect a lot of sass, a lot of me pushing you away to see if you’ll come back. I love someone who can push back. It makes me believe that you’re strong and powerful and can do something like build a fire just by conjuring heat with your body. It makes me think that you can do great things and not take anyone’s crap and stick by me even when I’m being a total asshole. We all have habits in relationships that we don’t like and wish we could change. Some are negotiable and some stick like glue. This stuff falls in the latter category.

You can expect a lot of love from me, which is a hard thing to get. But once it’s in your possession, it’s done. Over. I’m screwed. Not today and not tomorrow but someday when it all falls apart. You will have the most intense power over me. You can make me laugh, cry, scream, dance, throw things, whimper etc. It’s like my emotions are a puppet and you’re pulling a string. You know this, I know this, but no one talks about it. No one talks about the awful things someone you love can do to you.

I’m not being defeatist or meaning to paint a bleak picture of relationships. I guess I’m just constantly drawn to the two extremes—how “I love you and want to protect you” can one day turn into “I want to destroy you.” This isn’t always how it works though. Sometimes relationships just naturally fade away. No one is destroyed and the damage is light. And sometimes relationships never end and you marry someone and grow old together and watch each other die. You feel content in knowing that you built your life with someone else. At 25, I can’t fathom that type of love but I want it. Just like you do.

I’m referring here to the relationships that can wreck you. You can expect these things when I fall in love you but what can you expect when we fall out of love?

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1. Among My Swan by Mazzy Star

No, this album does not have their # 1 hit “Fade Into You” on it. That would be So Tonight That I Might See, which is also a great record but not as flawless as Among My Swan. Songs likes “Rhymes Of An Hour” and “Happy” show the band at its most miserable AKA best. With Hope Sandoval’s hazy vocals that sound like a bottle of Vicodin, Mazzy Star didn’t stand a chance at creating upbeat pop songs. And thank god because depression has never sounded so good. I recommend you listen to “Disappear” while submerged in your bathtub acting like a jellyfish.

2. The Covers Record by Cat Power

Cat Power has never been known to be a ray of music sunshine (which is why it’s weird that she lives in Miami) but she went to some #dark places with The Covers Record in 2000. She takes rock and roll covers like “{I Can’t Get No} Satisfaction” and “I Found A Reason” and injects them with her own particular brand of moodiness. Hell, she could do a record that’s entirely comprised of Raffi covers and still make you want to kill yourself. But that’s whats so great about Chan Marshall. She’s a giant bummer but a beautiful bummer. You make yourself sad just so you can listen to her stuff.

3. Sea Change by Beck

Love him or hate him, you must admire Beck’s ability to switch gears with every record he makes. It seems like he’s either super happy and making some good pop jams (“Odelay” and “Guero”) or making some serious introspective slow burners (“Mutations” and “Sea Change”). The latter record in particular is devastating to listen to. He doesn’t just dip his feet into the sadness pool, he throws his body into it. To be honest, I haven’t even listened to the whole thing, which says a lot coming from someone who loves kill yourself music.

4. Blue by Joni Mitchell

You know how when people say that certain music feeds their soul? I used to think that was a stupid/embarrassing thing to say until I really got into Joni Mitchell. She’s the # 1 California diva and although she doesn’t exclusively make sad music, her voice is so fragile and soulful that you can’t help but feel super emotional while listening to her. Her album, Blue, is undoubtedly her masterpiece. It really captures a young woman in the seventies navigating her way through relationships. I dare you to listen to a song like “The Last Time I Saw Richard” and not feel something. Listening to the record doesn’t make you feel the traditional kind of depressing. It’s like warm comforting melancholy. Does that make sense?

5. Ghost Blonde by No Joy

With a name like No Joy, you know this band isn’t going to be pumping out the “Teenage Dream”‘s. Fronted by two Canadian babes and signed to Mexican Summer, No Joy brings that lovely dense shoegaze sound to the masses by peppering their heavy songs with beautiful melodies. Any time the listener feels like its being swallowed up by darkness, the band brings you back with killer riffs and haunting vocals. No Joy makes you no longer miss happiness and sunshine. Their recipe for doom and gloom is euphoric.