Warning for death/grief, minor warning for mention of suicide and self-harm

This past weekend, me and my best friend went to a concert headlined by Kimya Dawson. I will admit that I had only intimately listened to one of their albums (2006’s Remember That I Love You) and that song that everyone knows (“Anybody Else But You”) but I figured I would really like everything else she played.

It was a somewhat outdoor concert, by which I mean we were in a sort of wooden pavilion where you could look up and see the night sky. We sat on the ground on my friend’s picnic blanket towards the front of the venue. There were three openers, but we were super late, so we just caught the tail end of the third, Samantha Crain. She was wonderful, I wish we could have heard more of her live. I loved her song “Gumshoe”, which she made into a duet with Kimya.

When Kimya came on for their set, it only took about three songs for me to start crying. For the unfamiliar, this is very sad music we are talking about. Before starting her set, Kimya said something along the lines of “I went to college for stand-up comedy, but I realized it was more fun to make people cry instead.” Kimya’s sweet, vulnerable voice filled the room as my companion held me in his tender arms.
The song that made me cry the hardest was a song that has surprisingly little online presence, called “Daniel (Baby Boy)”. It tells the story of Kimya losing a baby they babysat due to a car accident. The baby was nine months old and Kimya was twelve years old. I really recommend listening to the story yourself, it’s heart wrenching, especially the way she tells it. The song is also about how music, an Elton John song, got them through this time.

When I found out that my friend had died, I was in the back of my mom’s car on the way to my high school winter formal. It was a quiet moment, a simple Discord message. It was unbelievable, so much so that I decided to still go to the dance. The whole time, in the back of my mind, I just couldn’t even fathom that it was true. Afterwards, my dad picked me up, as well as my cousin and his friends that were staying the night at our house. On the way back, everyone but me went into a Walmart to get snacks. The moment I was left alone, I just burst into tears. I’d never felt hurt like that before, this ache that I still feel. I pulled myself together and my dad came back with an Arizona tea for me, my favorite. I sat in the back of his car, drinking it and trying to cry as silently as possible.

I was crying so hard during that song that I couldn’t even look up. Fully enveloped by my friend’s loving touch, I looked down and I sobbed. I sobbed because of how unfair everything is. That we lose people, that they die in car crashes and suicides and that they leave without saying goodbye. Kimya speaks and sings a lot about the deaths of loved ones. I felt this silent understanding between me and her and most everyone else in the audience. An understanding of what it’s like to lose someone. That unique pain.

My other major crying moment was during the song “Loose Lips”. The first time I heard this song was during a failed attempt to return to my college classes. If you don’t know me, this fall, to put it simply, I got really sick. I became physically disabled and ended up having to take a year off of college. There was a short period where I thought I was well enough to try going back (I was not), so I attended class again for a few days after a month or so of absence. I am also an art major, so I was going to three hour long art classes. I also had to walk and take the bus to these classes, which was the most exhausting part. All this to say, I was having an awful time in class, inches from having a genuine mental freakout, and trying to make it better by listening to new music. I put on Remember That I Love You, and when I got to a certain part in “Loose Lips”, I started tearing up.

"So, if you wanna burn yourself
Remember that I love you
And if you wanna cut yourself
Remember that I love you
And if you wanna kill yourself
Remember that I love you
Call me up before you’re dead
We can make some plans instead
Send me an IM, I’ll be your friend"

It felt like I had been needing someone to say that to me. I have a lot of love and support from my friends, but there was something special about hearing it from someone speaking it into the world to whoever was willing to listen. I’m also very quiet about my struggles with these things, so to hear them mentioned so bluntly really meant something to me.

I got a special video of the performance of “Loose Lips”, of that very part that made me very touched during a really hard day. I am actively crying during it, but I don’t think it picks up during the video. It felt like I was putting that caring message in my pocket to revisit later, to prove that people care about me and to keep myself afloat.

After the show, me and my friend stood in the merch line for a while, chatting. We were slow to the punch and ended up at the very end. When we finally got to the front, we had a chance to actually speak with Kimya. We are both very shy people, but we did our best. My friend showed Kimya a drawing that he had done of them, and we talked about making art. I also told Kimya that her art meant a lot to me and that I wanted her to know that it was good, important work. I kind of stumbled through it, though. We each bought a patch and some pins, and as we left, Kimya wished us luck on making art together. I had never before met any artist I loved before, and neither had my friend, so this was a fantastic moment for us. We could hardly believe it. We had a nice drive home.