The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.
Year: 2003
I first discovered Muse on a car ride. My in-laws asked me if I heard the band Muse and then proceeded to play songs from Absolution. I wasn’t hooked immediately, but I was intrigued enough because I had heard nothing like them before. Muse is a genre masher. They sound like metal at time and attract their fair share of headbangers at their shows. They also have a progressive bent to them, both lyrically and musically with ambitious compositions soaked in heavy distortion. They even have classical music accents in terms of their song structures and chord progressions. You can hear Chopin and Rachmaninov imprinted all over their music. All of these genres come to a head in “Stockholm Syndrome”, one of the band’s most aggressive bangers.
“Sockholm Syndrome” lifts you up and then shoves you down. Every single note and word seemingly unleashing a fit of rage. You might just be casually listening to the music when you feel the slightest bit of insanity taking over. Interestingly, the song personifies the abuser in a Stockholm syndrome scenario, not the victim. Like the abuser, the music feels like it’s trying to sway you. Convince you. “Stockholm Syndrome” demands your obedience and that you never leave its side. Which is totally fine by me.
“AND WE'LL LOVE, AND WE'LL HATE AND WE'LL DIE. ALL TO NO AVAIL.”