I Have Three Albums to Review. I’m Listening to Pearl Jam Instead.
There is an abundance of new music.
Good music. Great music.
Also not-so-great music, but that’s beside the point.
Fact is: new music.
New releases. Every day. And right now, three of them are sitting in my mail inbox.
Patiently waiting for me to review them.
In parts, the bloody deadline is looming.
Have I listened to those albums yet? No.
Why, you ask?
Well—because right now, my mind has other plans.
Brain Offline. Vedder On Loop.
Right now, my mind is looping again.
It happens from time to time. Courtesy of ADHD hyperfixation.
You know that feeling?
When a song takes over?
Latches onto you and refuses to let go?
You’re not even listening anymore.
The song becomes your emotional soundtrack.
Your blanket.
One with your bleeding heartbeat.
And this time?
It’s Yellow Ledbetter.
Again.
Not metal. Not even close.
But try telling my brain that while Eddie Vedder is over there mumbling like he's reading your soul off a napkin from 1994.
And for the record? I am absolutely down for grunge. Always have been. Not apologising one lick for it.
The flannel is metaphorical, but the devastation is real.
Looping as Ritual. Looping as Rebellion. Looping as “Oh God, Not Again.”
Looping isn't cute.
Looping is ritual.
Looping is a blood pact between you and a very specific, emotionally charged frequency.
This isn't me being lazy.
This is me clinging to one song like it’s the only stable structure in a collapsing psyche.
It’s not about taste.
It’s definitely not about the words.
No one knows what the fuck he’s saying.
It doesn’t matter.
Because it feels like safety.
I should be reviewing that new atmospheric black metal release that promises cold Finnish forest feelings.
But I’m not.
Because I am mentally stuck in 1994 with a cigarette I don’t smoke and a heartbreak I never had.
The Duality of the Loop
Sometimes, the loop is a lifeline.
Other times, it's just a pain in the arse.
At first, looping a song is the only thing keeping your brain from fully collapsing into a glittery panic spiral. It’s a lifeline. A safety blanket. A sonic bunker.
You know what’s coming next. You can breathe here.
It’s the emotional equivalent of hiding in the bathroom during a party—just you and the loop. No surprises. No expectations.
And then suddenly, the loop becomes a wall.
A blockade between you and every other piece of music screaming for attention.
You want to move on.
But your brain’s like, “No thanks, I live here now.”
And good luck trying to write about a new black metal release when Eddie’s over there moaning about his unsent letter or war or sandals or—honestly, who knows.
Spotify Wrapped Is Gonna Be a Hate Crime
I already know what’s coming in December.
Spotify Wrapped is going to stage an intervention.
It’ll be 80% Pearl Jam, 20% metal, and 100% “are you okay?”
No one will believe I run a metal blog when my Top 5 is:
Pearl Jam’s Yellow Ledbetter—because I enjoy sobbing in gibberish,
Déhà’s cover of Saturnine—doom, but make it devastatingly tender,
Jamie Bower’s Heaven in Your Eyes—yes, I loop sad vampire ballads now, fight me,
Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones—because the apocalypse has a groove,
and Carnivore’s Male Supremacy—which honestly says more about me than therapy ever could.
"Your top genre is—Emotional Damage?”
Kill me now.
In Conclusion: The Loop Wins
Fact is: I am behind.
Behind on reviews.
Behind on releases.
Behind on news.
Behind on this whole loud, fast-moving world I’m meant to have a grip on.
And still—
On a wheela... ona wissitonawayeaa... ani cownanasay nannawowasay…
The loop always wins.
I’ll get to the review. Eventually.
When I’m done sitting in some emotional minefield.
But first, I need to press play again.
Just one more time. Just—shhh. Again.