Change of seasons? Graduation? A new job? Heartbreak, mental breakdowns, or nervous crises? No matter the reason why you’re here, the important thing is that you are to listen to some beautiful songs.
In about a week, I will be graduating. It feels incredible. I see celebrations around me, intense emotions, and tears—both of joy and sadness—in short, a whole lot of drama. And yet, I cannot escape that accompanying sense of emptiness, fear, and utter uncertainty—a phase, unfortunately, that we simply cannot skip. It is a rite of passage that everyone has gone through, and now, it’s my turn.
But in such an intense moment, how does one cope with that overwhelming sense of powerlessness in the face of unfolding events? The same way human beings have for millennia: through the arts. When we are frozen by tension, we surrender to the rhythm of music, letting it carry our minds to places our bodies cannot reach.
Step 1: cry it out
There is one artist “par excellence” to listen to during times of crisis, and that artist is Adrianne Lenker. Unfortunately, I discovered her far too late for my liking, but I remember perfectly how the friend who introduced me to her described her: “She has the perfect words, and a voice that’s a hundred years old.” And that is exactly right; the wisdom, delicacy, and vulnerability that shine through her music act as a soothing balm for the soul—a remedy for every hurt. It is a deep wound that we reopen now and then, because the pain feels familiar.
Specifically, the song “Free Treasure” is a masterpiece, in my humble opinion. One need only read her verses to grasp things about ourselves that we never even knew.
“Stove light glows like a fire / We’re sitting on the kitchen floor
Just when I thought I couldn’t feel more / I feel a little more / I feel a little—
Understanding / Patience and pleasure / Time and attention / Love without measure.”
I do not know what compels a person to write with such raw honesty for the world to see, but these are words that can soothe any ache.
Step 2: cry even harder
Sometimes, though—to climb back up—you have to hit rock bottom, and that might just be the reason to listen to “Nude” by Radiohead. Listen, I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel here. You know Radiohead, I know Radiohead—we all know Radiohead—and we all know the effect they can have on our psyche. But with “Nude,” the sheer anguish of listening to this song overrides all common sense and every good intention. The concept is exactly what I was talking about earlier: sometimes, to feel better, you have to feel worse.
“Nude” is that doctor’s appointment we keep putting off—the one that causes us more stress than the symptom itself. It’s the spicy seasoning we underestimate, the kind that leaves us breaking out in a sweat. It’s the ocean waves disinfecting the scrapes left by the sand; the salt stings, sure—but who cares? Few words, but potent ones:
“Now that you found it / It’s gone / Now that you feel it / You don’t / You’ve gone off the rails.”
Give me a break.
Step 3: dance a little
At this point—after shedding a few tears and asking ourselves what our role on this planet truly is—perhaps it is time to approach the crisis with a touch of lightness. Not too much—there is still plenty to do—but just enough. And the perfect choice to achieve this has to be “My Favorite Part” by Mac Miller, featuring Ariana Grande.
Mac is one of the best when it comes to finding that sweet spot between absolute desperation and not taking life too seriously. I have no idea how he does it, but he can sing some of the most intense lyrics with a smile on his face. This entire album is a work of art, but “My Favorite Part” is one of those songs I have never, ever skipped.
For true connoisseurs, incidentally, the live version from Mac’s concert special in Pittsburgh is a must-listen. Their chemistry—the laughter during the performance and the jokes whispered between verses—is priceless. By the end of the video, you will find yourself smiling. The lyrics—simple yet effective—are imbued with longing for those who seek it, and with irony for those who prefer it to pain.
“Before things come together, they have to fall apart / It’s been a while since I’ve been sober / This life can be so hard, I’d rather talk about you / Said, you just don’t know how beautiful you are / And baby that’s my favorite part.”
Absolute truths and declarations delivered with enviable simplicity. As Mac himself says at the end of his Pittsburgh performance: “Good stuff.”
Step 4: dive deeper
Another little indulgence I treat myself to during difficult times is the music of Serena Brancale. A native of Puglia with a jazz soul and an unstoppable soul sound, she is described by Quincy Jones as an extraordinary singer.
The velvety quality of her voice never fails to transport me emotionally, and it has helped me through far more than just a few moments of struggle. Her entire album, “Galleggiare,” is dedicated to crafting a groove that stimulates the senses and—melodically speaking—leads the listener into unexpected corners; yet the title track itself is pure magic.
“Galleggiare” (which means “floating”) offers a window into a vulnerable spot—both within the album and, in all honesty, within the singer’s own soul. Her signature sass is certainly present, but here it is conveyed with a sweetness that simply melts the heart. There is a risk of shedding a single tear while listening to Brancale’s radiant voice as it opens up the soundscape, backed by an incredible orchestra.
The lyrics read:
“It’s easier to float / And it isn’t memories carrying me away / I don’t understand anything right now / Speak softly.”
Sometimes, there is no need to force things. Sometimes, we lack the capacity to make a decision or get a grip on ourselves and can only focus on the simple act of not sinking. If you lack the strength to swim in the sea of life—which can be a ruthless place—sometimes, it is enough just to float.
Step 5: acceptance
My head—specifically at this moment in my life—is brimming with thoughts, decisions to make, and choices that feel so pivotal right now… perhaps I need to go home for a while. I need that sense of familiarity that I usually fail to appreciate. A bit like Joni Mitchell in “California” (I couldn’t write this article without including a Joni tune).
Joni Mitchell’s “California” needs no introduction; I myself discussed it in a previous article that focused specifically on her album “Blue.” Yet it is such a familiar and comforting song that it makes for the perfect candidate to play softly in the background, amidst a playlist of sad and introspective tracks. Not that “California” isn’t capable of being sad and introspective in its own right, but it contains just that glimmer of hope needed to break free from a destructive mindset.
“But I wouldn’t want to stay here/It’s too old and cold and settled in its ways here. Oh, but California/California I’m coming home/I’m going to see the folks I dig/I’ll even kiss a Sunset pig/California, I’m coming home.”
I don’t know if the singer intended to convey exactly this message, but for me, it basically boils down to this: “You know what? I’ve had enough of you guys—I’m heading back home for a while.”
With this starter pack, I think it’s possible to tackle just about any mood. It’s certainly helping me through this delicate transitional period, and it keeps me going when I feel like I can’t make it. What songs would you have included instead?
P.S. Congratulations to the Class of 2026!!
