There's just so many sad songs out there but only a few that we can relate to. We go a little bit indulgent in this one and reveal to you musical moments which made us emote tremendously. Jump on the bandwagon and tell us which songs makes you have the feels.
Jeremy Hu, Writer
Shine | David Gray
Never has a song about heartbreak, farewells, and the end of the road ever sounded so hopeful. It talks about emerging from the rubble, anew and rid of the melancholy of it all, and when the misery and the loss of a love has settled into sobering acceptance. And the only way to go from there is onward, heartened by the future, and strengthened by the past.
Daniel Peters, Writer
To Build a Home | The Cinematic Orchestra ft. Patrick Watson
The opening piano chords, Patrick's flawless falsetto, the strings, the simple yet heartbreaking lyrics. All right in the feels.
Jillian Wong, Writer
Remember Me | Cat Power
Any fan of Cat Power can attest to her gorgeously smoky voice and gift to inhabit the characters she sings about, and that virtuosity shines through in this acoustic performance for Rolling Stone. Raw, honest and affecting, her stripped down rendition of the Otis Redding song is pure emotion at its most heartbreaking.
Kristina Cortez, Photographer
My Name Is | Eminem
Hi kids, do you like violence?
I have an Eminem problem and this is the line that started it all.
Hoong Wei Long, Photographer
The Wrestler | Bruce Springsteen
It's hard to make a definitive choice but this track by The Boss is right up there amongst the best of them. I remember tearing a little when this song came up during the end credits of "The Wrestler". I love Mickey Rourke's performance in the movie and this song cements my love affair with the film further. From the atmospheric strings intro to Springsteen's signature vocal gruff, it's the painful insider howl of the weary. Powerful.
P.S. - I might teared a little again listening to the track and typing this down.
Shaun Tan, Photographer
Sleep Patterns | Merchant Ships
This song was released on the under appreciated gem of an album, For Cameron. I remember just going through the Wiki pages of different bands, then downloading whatever I could get my hands on under the genre "screamo/emo". I was enjoying FC when Sleep Patterns came on, and I remember being jarred by how sparse, raw and emotive it was - all at once. I rewound the track and looked up the lyrics. The stories within the largely spoken word track hit home for reasons unknown to me at the point in time. Looking back, I've come to see it as myself relating to the song's portrayal of one's fear of death, how faith is easily shaken and how we run away from the unknown.
Nabil Nazri, Photographer
Tracing Back Roots | We Came As Romans
2009 was the year I got myself into post hardcore music. There were loads of post hardcore bands that I got into but one that stood out to me the most, and is now my favourite band in the world, is We Came As Romans. The first song I listened was the title track 'Tracing Back Roots'. Till today it is still one of the most played tracks on my iPod. In typical We Came As Roman’s fashion, the song starts heavy, in a form of anger and rage. Towards the end, the song turns into something very calming to listen to, with heartfelt lyrics. It has always been a style for the band to start the song with negativity, and end it off with positivity.
2:20, that is the moment. When Kyle Pavone’s clean vocals kicks in for the first time in the song. It gave me chills when listening to it for the very first time. There is something about his vocals that suit the band so magically. His parts are comforting and soothing after 2 minutes of endless ranting by Dave Stephens.
This song is relatable in every context to me. It is an added bonus that they are my favourite band. This song made me realize that it is okay to make mistakes. Mistakes does not equate to sins. Previously, making mistakes would mean the end of the world to me. I would mourn over the mistake and wish I could turn back time to reverse that mistake. Everybody wishes for that don’t they? It is okay to make mistakes. It’s part of our living journey. We live and we learn with every move and decision that we make. So, never be afraid to take chances, to take that leap of faith. Never let the thought of making a mistake refrain you from doing something. Never mourn over past mistakes. Move on, learn your lesson and continue living. The thought of making mistakes no longer scare me. And I have this band to thank for that.
Delfina Utomo, Lead Editor
Saturday | Sparklehorse
I'd like to tell you how I feel, I'll probably keep it till Saturday
There was a point of time in my tertiary education abroad that I spent listening to this song on repeat. It was winter and my best friend Mara and I went on a sad music binge. And among all the Cat Power circa Moon Pix, Ryan Adams, and Iron & Wine, it was this one track from Sparklehorse's Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot that hit the feels. It's about letting things slide by, mild-mannerisms, living in your own head; I guess that one part of the song spoke the loudest to me. About actually having so much to say and feel but then reducing it to a watered down version of the real thing.
Everything about the song, his sorrow-laden voice, the slow pace of the song, the forlorn lyrics is a sort of warning sign of someone very, very, very, deeply sad. In 2010, Mark Linkous, the main man of Sparklehorse shot himself in the heart… on a Saturday. It was then that the song took a more poignant and sombre meaning to Mara and me.
Ilyas Sholihyn, Editor
Where Is Home (Burial remix) | Bloc Party
The first time I heard this song was when I just got started into electronic music proper back in 2007, with UK's most mysterious post-dubstep producer Burial teaching me everything I needed to know about the other, more cerebral side to the genre. I had already exhausted my daily repeated listenings of Untrue, and I hungered for more of his dusky, unearthly tunes.
I stumbled upon his remix of the Bloc Party track on YouTube one day. That was the moment I realised: Burial, you're a goddamn genius.
So many textural layers and so many sounds going on in the remix, you can't wrap your head around any one of it. It's his mastery of mood and ambience that grabs you by the metaphorical throat and flings you into an emotional typhoon that you just can't help but curl up in foetal position. Normal songs would just let you experience one emotion, and leaves it at that. But no, this track is the total aural embodiment of every sense of darkness you can humanly feel - loneliness, rejection, abandonment, despair, gloom, desolation, grief. And all of them occur simultaneously for five and a half minutes.
It's this sense of darkness that punctured into my 20-year-old essence, when I was still searching for a personal identity and generally feeling like I had nothing but a future in failing. My sentiments were echoed by Kele Okereke's haunting vocal samples, warbling "Where is home? Where is it?", all full of defeatist anguish. I still remember how affected I was listening to the latter part of the track when Kele cries out "So I decide, I pretend that there's nothing wrong". Right in the feels I tell you. Everything I was feeling at that period of time, encapsulated into one song.
Five years on from its release, the track still sounds as amazing as it was when I first listened to it.
Actually, anything by Burial has so much feels. Buay tahan m8.