Playlist: Triumphantly Sad
The best soundtrack for your next happy-cry session.
Written by Zachary Bolash
Illustrated by Kate Crowder
Triumph and sadness seem like diametric opposites. The former is elation beget by success, while the latter is a broad, sweeping description of melancholy's expanse. The mere possibility of sadness being triumphant, or vice versa, seems impossible. However, ad-hedonics and depressives have long tethered these emotions. At times, sadness itself proves triumph. The ability to experience sadness testifies to one's strength and capacity to endure in a profoundly sick world.
Music is an artery between sadness and triumph. The punky and oft-melancholic Sinéad O'Connor once said that listeners often mistake her triumphant songs as the saddest. The art pop balladeer's cover of Prince's "Nothing Compares 2 U," is incredibly poignant, conveying resilience after loss. Lines like "Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want / I can see whomever I choose / I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant," register as a moment of lucidity in which the songstress regains her lucidity and rebuilds a sense of autonomy, a feeling bolstered by her sultry and powerful vocals.
Other artists explore this interplay in unique ways — Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Three Peaches” chronicles the depth of self-harm but underscores survival, as frontman Jeff Magnum declares, “ … remind yourself that you didn't die / On a day that was so crappy whole and happy you're alive.” On the other hand, Aphex Twin explores these two feelings using ambient sound on the track "#3", known colloquially by fans as "Rhubarb." On the track, a soft synth glides over the entirety of the song before seamlessly and inexplicably fettering out completely. The hypnotic sound can accompany both the meditative ascent of Mount Everest and a despondent depressive episode. However, "Rhubarb's genuine emotion wades between these extremes and connects these two polar ends, solidifying the sadness in triumph and the triumph in sorrow.
This playlist helps you understand the relationship between these complex emotions — and might even give you a song for your next happy-cry.