Poll: Songs you find soothing

What songs do you find soothing or comforting?  I remember after 9/11, a local radio station played Moby’s “Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad“, and it just soothed me in a way I can’t put into words.  Since then, I turn to that song when the world feels broken or out of control.  

When work gets me down or exhausts me, I often turn to “You Are Not Needed Now” by Townes Van Zandt.  

Bury Me Deep” by Poi Dog Pondering is the best antidote to my perennial fear of death. 

What are yours?


~ by realsupergirl on December 15, 2008.

5 Responses to “Poll: Songs you find soothing”

  1. Outside the rain falls – The Blue Seeds
    Goodbye Letter – Jonny Lang
    Merlin’s Lament – Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer
    Your Rocky Spine – Great Lake Swimmers

    (there’s more, of course, but those are few. Just go listen to them, I won’t comment on them)

  2. Definitely People Get Ready (Both versions) (maybe even others too) (wait! maybe even more).

    Probably others. But Alicia Keyes and Curtis Mayfield most.

  3. Side B (is there still such a thing?) of Really Rosie, by Carole King.
    Tapestry, Carole King
    New York City – They Might be Giants (this song really only became comforting after 9/11)
    Leatherwing Bat – Peter, Paul & Mommy

  4. My 15-minute meditation playlist:

    “Carl Sagan” by Loch Lomond
    “The Mountain” by Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer
    “Mercy Street” by Peter Gabriel

  5. In the early nineties I was part of an openly queer group that, thanks to a court order, marched in the Boston St. Patrick’s Day Parade in South Boston–before the U.S. Supreme Court struck down our right to do so. The case was very heavily publicized so the parade route (which looped through my grandmother’s neighborhood) with filled with both detractors and the occasional brave supporter. There was a lot of shouting of epithets, booing and, even though we had a police escort, rocks, bottles and those little crackling gunpowdery things that you light with a match (which I’m not sure are legal anymore) were thrown at us. I didn’t get hit with anything, but someone struck the woman next to me with a rock: she had a hole-punch-sized dot of blood on her face for much of the parade. I couldn’t tell you how long the route was now, maybe a couple of hours, but it seemed days-long while we were walking it.

    The day after I skipped work to try to recover. The college radio station I always listen to played “Monkey Gone to Heaven”, by The Pixies. I turned the volume up and screamed along with Black Francis, “If the devil is six/Then man is seven.” When the song ended I felt better. After the noise and tumult of the parade I needed something loud to sooth me.

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