October 15, 2014 § 10 Comments
Today while driving in traffic, one of my favorite songs came on the radio. That’d be “Clarity,” by German DJ Zedd.
When “Clarity” came out last summer, I wrote this about it at the time on This is a Liked Music Log:
I’ve long thought that the allure of dance music (for me anyway) is its ability to both tap into despair and to mobilize against it, simultaneously. Like gospel, its roots are a deep existential suffering – tho where bondage is the root of gospel’s pain, the sufferings of love lie at the heart of dance – yet as a genre both by their nature intend to literally move their audiences to action, to movement out of that despair. Gospel through prayer, dance through…well, dancing. As a genre dance recognizes the pain in you but refuses your getting stuck there—if you’re listening right, you’re literally moved up and out of suffering in responding to dance through movement. It’s a kind of music that both touches and transforms pain; through movement comes a kind of liberation.
I put this song (Zedd, “Clarity”) in that category.
But I was also mesmerized by “Clarity” then (and still am) because I identify with its essential conundrum: what inspires profound longing also inspires profound suffering. I understand this paradox to the the psychic essence of what gets labeled borderline personality traits:
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?
For me, borderline traits have meant a longing for reciprocity, a weeping, absolute absence–no, abandonment, an absolute abandonment–at the center of me that is so intense it collapses under its own mass like a star going supernova, sucking everything down into oblivion. My love is so intense it is unstable, it is destabilizing. Nobody could survive my love. Everyone must run. I must run from myself. My need is so intense I can only be abandoned. My need for response is the very reason I am abandoned. To love is to grieve, then, in the same moment. An unsolvable conundrum.
Anyway, from “Clarity”, a playlist slowly began to take shape in my mind. Not just songs I jam to when I’m crazy–flying high on manic energy or stunted immobile by despair–but songs that expose the anatomy of madness, that illuminate the inner workings of borderline craziness, specifically.
And so, I present to you BPD: The Playlist.