At the beginning of this month, I reviewed Goldmyth in concert. It’s very possible I have mentioned this before, but I find live music very inspiring. Watching someone do their thing, pursue their passion, regardless of the medium (whether it be music, dance, a play, movies, TV, or even sports), is the most inspirational thing to me. I think the reason a live performance is so motivating is because you can see the pursuit of their dream in their body language—in the way they simply move—and if you’re close enough, their eyes. The eyes are windows to the soul, says the cliche. And the more intimate the show, the more you can see this dream shine through.
This inspirational feeling—it’s not butterflies but more like caterpillars that crawl from your stomach to your heart, encasing it in a cocoon, warming it until you can bring forth whatever beautiful creation you have in there—makes me want to rush home right away and do something great. Write the next great American novel, or more realistically, finally begin writing my zombie thriller Zombie Claus, which is about the zombie apocalypse breaking out on Christmas Eve and the only person who can save Christmas is—you guessed it—Santa Claus. Starring Nicolas Cage as St. Nick (or should I say, St. Nic).
The point is, seeing a live performance makes me want to do. It's a call to action.
But there’s a whole other level when I can get that same feeling on the first listening of a recorded song (and another other level when it's every time). These songs are few and far between. But that, my friends, is the case for “Triptych.”
The defining characteristic of the song that is its happy-sad nature. “Crying in the club” in song form. You’re sad—subject to a contemplative melancholy—but you can’t help but feel the rhythm as it courses through every molecule of your body until you’re dancing so much that your downstairs neighbors complain.
Jenessa classifies it as “moody summer.” Who needs hot girl summer when you’re a reformed emo? Dancing to a sad pop music hasn't felt this right since Melodrama.
With this melancholic banger as the foundation, the personal nature of the lyrics make it singular. In a recent Instagram post, she explained that a triptych is “a 3 part art piece and in the song I am referring to 3 perspectives—my past, my present, and future self—and 3 great loves I’ve had in my life… and how they influence and stay with you even after they’re long gone.” This level of specificity and sincerity builds bridges, connecting us, as the listener, to the song, so we can combine it with our experiences and make it our own. Appropriation in the way God—or whatever—intended it. It’s the inverse of “my culture is not your prom dress.” My trauma and life experiences are your favorite song, and your favorite song helps you get through your trauma and your life experiences. And that’s awesome, so let’s celebrate!
And it is those songs—the ones that bridge this gap—that become our favorites. The songs that influence and stay with you for life. Or at least make it on your Spotify Top Songs 2022.