Day 4 - an Arctic Monkeys song you listen to when sad
I waited to answer this prompt because I knew I’d be in a more … appropriate head-space today.
A few days ago, I watched Richard Ayoade’s début directorial feature, Submarine, based on Joe Dunthorne’s 2008 novel of the same name. The film is an unflinchingly earnest study of the gawky, hopelessly romantic, 14 year old Oliver Tate. Tate obsesses over two things during the entirety of the film; the beautiful and badass Jordana Bevan, and the state of his parents’ marriage.
I don’t want to spoil this film for anyone who actually reads these … rants(?), but I will say that the end-credits are set to Alex Turner’s “Piledriver Waltz.” For me, Turner’s solo ballad succeeds in being both beautiful and haunting, but the later (reworked) Arctic Monkeys version manages to sneak up on you, and hit you where it hurts, in a way only a few songs can. Perhaps it’s its deceptively cheerful tune that has listeners bobbing their heads before the truth of the lyrics reaches them.
I said goodbye to a wonderful, charismatic, funny, and pretty much perfect person this morning. We were fortunate enough to spend one last night together — this fairly unorthodox way of breaking up allowed me to get closure, and show my appreciation to this gorgeous soul (who managed to woo me at a time when I was dead-set against romantic affiliations.)
The lyrics “I heard the news that you’re planning to shoot me out of a cannon,” echo (rather perfectly) how it felt to accept the fact that our courtship had a fast-approaching expiration date. While the premeditated nature of our goodbye did nothing to soften the blow, and it really did feel like being launched out of a cannon at 150 mph, it helped me say goodbye in a much more complete manner.
My ex-bae’s bedroom faces exceptionally loud train tracks. I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics “I heard the Piledriver Waltz, it woke me up this morning,” — if only Turner knew of the awful noise GO Trains make. Waking up in such a spectacularly awful fashion is enough of a reason to feel like shit, I think. The fact that I knew I’d be saying goodbye to someone I really, really didn’t want to say goodbye to was just the icing on the cake.
I’m not really sure where I’m going with this outburst. I’m sad. I think it’s pretty evident that I’ve “been for breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel.” (Related: the Heartbreak Hotel has relocated to the McDonald’s at Union Station, in Toronto.)
Anyway, unlike Oliver Tate, my life story isn’t beautifully shot. It’s messy, and the cast is unreliable, and there are no cameos by Ben Stiller — but we do share this sad song as the soundtrack to our heartbreak.
I heard an unhappy ending, it sorta sounds like you leaving
I head the Piledriver Waltz, it woke me up this morning.
[ETA: I’m sorry about the rambling nature of this entry. It turns out I can’t edit well when heartbroken, and grammar rules go out the window.]