Thank You for the Music: MODA's Musical Secret Santa
Any reflective article you read this month is going to start with some variation of “this year” or “2020 has been” or “our current moment.” It will include some kind of dramatic modifier like “unprecedented” or “chaotic” in an attempt to capture the utterly overwhelming feelings that the global pandemic has wreaked. This December is going to see a holiday season with significantly less social gatherings for the sake of public health (hopefully!), but art continues to remind us that we aren’t alone. In celebration of the season of giving, a group of MODA writers gave each other one of the merriest gifts of all: music. We each commented on a song of great value to us and had a Secret Santa-esque exchange of songs, letting our peers experience our own music and write about what it evoked for them. Our relationship to music is something that can be so personal—taste is a cumulative product of lived experience, upbringing, desires, anxieties, and environment, and every song you love carries a piece of you with it. What better way to connect than through music, the true window to the soul? Here are a few pieces we’ve decided to share:
Alexandra Fiorentino-Swinton: Isaac Hayes, “Walk on By”
I was raised on R&B/soul oldies radio, and recently I’ve been obsessed with learning about the intricacies of the subgenres and niches of the music that shaped my sonic palate. One such genre is cinematic soul, where soul and rock and grand orchestral arrangements meet. My ears would always perk up when I’d hear those funkier Motown and Stax cuts on the radio, like “Papa Was A Rolling Stone” or Isaac Hayes’ classic blaxploitation theme song “Shaft.” They were complex and lengthy, and every note, every instrument, and every breath was used to craft an immersive experience of a soundscape. Cinematic soul is majestic by nature, imbuing every intonation with an unmatched level of pomp and expression. It’s a subgenre that radiates Black excellence to me—the grit, the groove, and the elegance of the songs fuse into tapestries of beauty and grace.
To be clear: Dionne Warwick is a certified legend and her original version of “Walk On By” is a lovely pop hit, but Isaac Hayes added some kind of special sauce when crafting his 1969 cover. The drum-heaviness of the track flipped the established soul music script, creating a truly epic song in every meaning of the word. If nothing else, tune in for the utterly sublime first minute, which culminates in a sweeping crescendo featuring an angelic choir and one of the smoothest bass licks I’ve ever heard.
Felix Gonzalez’s take:
I first heard “Walk on By” after learning it was the sample that Beyoncé’s “6 Inch” is based on. Every time I listen to Hayes’ intro, I cannot help but think back to Beyoncé but likewise when I listen to “6 Inch”. Either way, I find that this song is absolutely sublime. The dramatic buildup of the strings in the intro is phenomenal. The progression of it feels really slick and reminds me of a Bond theme. The way the strings drop off suddenly in place of the seductive guitar line is so stunning. The call and response background chant of “walk-on” is a nice touch, sounding almost like a wah-wah guitar to me.
While Hayes’ delivery feels in line with the genre of soul, the dramatics of the instrumental feel freeform and innovating (for its time). This is certainly one of those songs that you can walk to, feeling you are a part of the story he’s telling. I love how the strings sporadically come back. The swell and explosion of the percussion at the end fit the emotion in the lyrics perfectly. There is a desperation and sense of defeat in the way he pleads for his ex to walk on. His delivery is quite captivating. Overall, the complexity and different sections of the song makes it clear why it has been so heavily sampled throughout the years.
Nadya Osman: New Order, “True Faith”
I chose this song because it’s a song my dad used to play when I was younger. I’m typically someone who enjoys songs based on lyrics, but I find that those that can affect me without a lyrical element are the most powerful. Actually, it’s a good thing that these lyrics don’t relate to me, because I think it’s about a heroin addiction…Anyway, this song is different in that it’s more about the nostalgia attached to the song, which is why I’m curious as to how others will perceive it! It’s that one song that can either make me super happy or cause me to burst into tears. I don’t listen to it often because I don’t want it to lose that magical quality.
Specifically, I recall sitting in the backseat of my dad’s car as a five-year-old on a late night drive along the Potomac River, the twinkling lights of Washington D.C. ahead in the distance. I remember feeling absolute bliss on those drives, whether it was because I was feeling rebellion for going out late on a school night, because my younger brother was never allowed to come, or just because that was when I learned my love for the epic combination of late night drives and music. To give you a better idea of the vibes it gives to me, it’s on my “I am the main character” playlist.
Diya Gandhi’s take:
I made the mistake of listening to “True Faith” for the first time on Wednesday morning at full blast while I was still lying in bed half awake. I was expecting something mellow, but instead I was sharply jolted awake by quick drum beats and rapid electronic music. I am typically not a person who gets startled easily, but this song threw a bucket of cold water on me, opened my blinds, and told me to run a marathon at 7:30AM. And the funny thing is, I listened. The minute the chorus kicked in, I actually felt inspired to make my bed, brush my teeth, and sit down at my desk with a cup of coffee a whole thirty minutes before my first lecture. I am one hundred percent a night person, but New Order managed to inject me with enough serotonin to actually want to turn on my camera during my morning lecture and discuss matrix transformations (shocking!).
“True Faith” is one of those songs that makes you feel like you can do anything. Conquer the world, hike across a polar icecap, get an A on your honors gen chem final… literally anything. The music completely engulfed me and left me feeling motivated and inspired to take control of my life and make things happen. Lyrics and melody are nice assets to a song, but when a song can embody a sensation, it elevates the music to a whole new dimension. “True Faith” is truly an experience. It is nearly six minutes long, yet I never felt bored. The music captivated me the whole time and energized me with “a sudden sense of liberty.” It’s one of those songs that if you experience it once, the second it’s over you just have to experience it again to rekindle those feelings. During these times, life can become monotonous, especially when we are trapped in our homes and isolated from friends and family, but if you want to find a jolt of inspiration to color your day, I definitely recommend “True Faith”!
Andrew Stahl: Lou Reed, “There Is No Time”
We usually admire protest songs when they are open-ended, poetic, timely yet timeless. Lou Reed cuts through all that bullshit immediately on his protest album New York: he wants you to know exactly what he’s talking about. “There Is No Time” is a perfect encapsulation of what the album stands for. It is both musically and lyrically simple, reviving classic rockabilly sounds while Reed repeats the refrain “this is no time” in his iconic sung-spoken growl. Reed’s characteristic plainspokenness makes the final transformation of the chorus, to “this is the time / Because there is no time,” even more extraordinary; as he sang, “this is no time for learned speech.” “There Is No Time” has become timely once again:
This is no time to ignore warningsThis is no time to clear the plateLet’s not be sorry after the factAnd let the past become our fate
Grace Lee’s take:
I was immediately hooked by the energetic opening chords of “There Is No Time.” These chords, along with the song’s lyrics, convey a great sense of urgency. The song is filled with political imagery that demands immediate action, as Reed continually emphasizes that “there is no time.” Reed sings, “this is no time for political speech. This is a time for action, because the future’s within reach.” “There Is No Time” provides a direct and clear message that is still much-needed in today’s society. I was particularly caught by just how true Reed’s words still ring today, despite the song having been released over 30 years ago. In particular, “this is no time to swallow anger. This is no time to ignore hate” remain particularly relevant lyrics. “There is No Time,” with its timeless lyrics, is an important demonstration of the ability of music to convey important social messages.
Diya: Florence + The Machine, “Hunger”
“Hunger” is a song about power. It is that feeling when you dance alone in your room in the middle of the night. Dancing honestly, without hesitation. Alone, but not lonely. It’s a song about reclaiming faith in oneself and truly embracing life. Florence Welch takes us on a journey with her vocals; we mourn alongside her at her most vulnerable and scream with her when she breaks the chains that bind her. Her voice has a deep hollow timbre like organ pipes in a cathedral, and there is something ancient and surreal in her tone. Speaking from a wiser and stronger place, she reminds her younger self that “we all have a hunger.” What that hunger is and what it represents is different for everyone, yet none of us are alone.
In our digital age of social media, it is so easy to compare ourselves to others and pick ourselves apart piece by piece. When I turn my mind inward and begin to analyze myself, I can tear myself apart so viciously and callously that I break. But this song reminds me how wonderful and mesmerizing life is if we give it a chance. Humans have endured different flavors of the same emotions and struggles for centuries, and we are simply part of that cycle. The stories of those who have lived before crash through my soul and the imagination of those who will live after reverberates through my mind. When I listen to this song, I feel an absolute sense of freedom. As Florence bellows her breathtaking melodies, I am free to let go of every limb in my body and succumb completely to the music—breathing, morphing, and connecting with the world in a myriad of ways. And in this moment, I truly feel alive.
Alexandra’s take:
Florence + The Machine instantly takes me back 8th grade, when I performed her song “Dog Days are Over” in ASL for a talent show and felt like a total superstar for deviating from the (wonderful!) torrent of singing/instrument playing that my peers chose to exhibit. I’d most likely listened to that song upwards of 200 times trying to perfect my performance, and Florence’s distinctively bombastic voice is like an imprinted memory of that moment. But anyways, like “Dog Days,” “Hunger” is so bright in an almost eerie way. There’s a reason people jokingly refer to Florence as a kind of music witch, à la Stevie Nicks—there is an ever-present mystique to her work. She’s always connecting the spiritual to the physical, here actualizing her emotional emptiness by way of starvation. There’s something so… primal, almost (note: after reading Diya’s entry, “ancestral” is completely the word I was looking for) about Florence in how she gets at essential feelings and blows them up on a massive scale.
Felix: MARINA, “Froot”
I would liken “Froot” by Marina to my favorite fruit (pun intended)—the grapefruit: sweet and bitter, refreshing but not for everyone. There is an initial quirkiness to the track that might turn people away (I know it did me when I first heard it). It is quite lengthy for a pop song, tinged with arcade-sounding synths and a heavy percussion that sounds almost comical on first listen. But the wall of sound Marina erects is funky in all the right ways and her melodies complement her beautiful (and self-penned) lyrics perfectly.
The range Marina exhibits is impressive, with her dark and sour vocals juxtaposed with layers of lighter and sweet harmonies as she sings about self-fulfillment, love, and the temporality of both. I often find myself repeating certain sections of the song, particularly the interludes where Marina’s background vocals glide so well as she sings, “I'm your carnal flower, I'm your bloody rose.” It is easy to forgive heavy-handed—and at times cliche—fruit metaphors when a song is this groovy and uplifting.
Andrew’s take:
Marina will make you dance, then think. On the title track of her 2015 album Froot she pairs a funky beat and bombastic chorus with a metaphor for her romantic life. Marina is “hanging around like fruit on a tree / waiting to be picked” – “come on cut me free” she tells her love interest. But the analogy soon gets weird: “leave it too long I’ll go rot.” The agency is held firmly by the other person; but the music is hers, buoyant and confident beyond anything she had made previously. This tension keeps Marina interesting, on and off the dance floor.
Grace: ABBA, “The Winner Takes It All”
ABBA’s music has played an integral role in my life: anyone who knows me understands how much I love their entire discography, and the first songs I remember listening to in my childhood include their hits “Dancing Queen” and “Mamma Mia.” But while ABBA is most well-known for their upbeat dance numbers, “The Winner Takes It All” is a hauntingly beautiful song that showcases the group’s musical range. The song was inspired by band members’ Agnetha Fältskog and Björn Ulvaeus’s divorce, and the lyrics consequently feel incredibly sincere and personal.
The central theme of the song revolves around the idea that in a breakup, one party emerges victorious while the other must inevitably suffer. Throughout the song, ABBA maintains a sense of desperation, emphasizing that the “loser” in the breakup must succumb to the rules of heartbreak. Agnetha sings, “but what can I say? Rules must be obeyed. The judges will decide, the likes of me abide. Spectators of the show, always laying low.” There is a resounding honesty in these lyrics that, combined with the song’s powerful piano accompaniment and Agnetha’s soaring vocals, makes it a deeply emotional experience to listen to.
Nadya’s take:
Ah, an underrated Mamma Mia song. Ok, I know ABBA is an amazing band that was popular wayyy before the iconic Meryl Streep musical. But I’m not going to lie when I say that it’s how I found the song. When listening to it, I’m remembering the scene of Streep on a cliff, Greek sunset behind her, spinning and belting her emotions out. (P.S., she did this scene in one take because she’s a goddess and can do that).
This song is emotional. It’s a breakup song that can make you cry even if you’ve never been through a breakup. What I love about it is the piano sequence underlying the singing. It’s beautiful yet simple. It gives the song a consistency to it amid the singer’s story of an inconsistency in her life. And, of course, the ballad-like chorus can strike a chord within yourself—you can feel the emotion the singer is experiencing simply through her delivery. I also think it’s interesting how this song frames a relationship as a game, one you can either win or lose. She talks about judges, spectators, and rules. This clearly differs from how most people think of relationships, but it highlights the idea that her lover “played” her.
Overall, there’s really only one thing left to say: I’m adding this to my “sad hours” playlist.
