A Better Son/Daughter - Rilo Kiley

I am sure that on more than one drunk patio over the years I have claimed I’d do just about anything to see Rilo Kiley play live. Back when expression through music taste was one of the pillars of my world, when seeing the right show could feel like a life achievement. Monday, it turned out I didn't have to do anything at all. The band happened to play my small town on their reunion tour ("Sometimes When You're On, You're Really Fucking ON TOUR), Alicia said, “hey, do you want to go see Rilo Kiley?” and I went. Simple as that. Sometimes life delivers.

I watched a group of friends in their forties tap into something inherently young while allowing themselves to actually enjoy it. There was something deeply cool about their willingness to revisit past selves with whom they surely have complicated relationships—both with each other and within. I appreciated the chance to think back on who I was when this was so much of me.

"A Better Son/Daughter" is shouting music, which makes it unusual in my library of essentials so typically shy. The song's central confession—

And sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on
And your friends they sing along and they love you
But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence

—articulated exactly how I felt about myself in my early twenties. I had set expectations so impossibly high that mortal me could never meet them.

The song vents both external and internal pressures. Jenny Lewis and Blake Sennett were child television stars in the 1990s who knew something about impossible expectations. Their lyrics sometimes felt like someone had taken a megaphone to the persistent voice in my head constantly letting me know wether or not I’m doing good enough.

Hearing it live felt like a wise and knowing closing of a loop for my younger self while offering my current self a useful reminder. That's the pattern, it isn't changing: appreciate the peak, because the valley is coming. From this age: we see it over and over again, and my god, you should be proud for how you’ve learn to navigate the lows.

You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up
And a better daughter or son
And a real good friend

This is a playlist I’ll be adding to over time. Each song comes with a journal entry of some kind—what that looks like might shift and morph as I go. I’m going to have fun with these. It’s a celebration of songs that make me feel all kinds of ways.