It’s Their Outlet, Not Your Anthem

In my humble opinion, music is the only real catharsis humans are allowed. In so many words, chords, rhythms, and riffs, music is the only art that can relate to our individual experiences. We play music to cope, to gather an association for our emotions when no one may be around. The appeal of associating music with the experience we all go through is necessary. Everyone has an album or a song that got them through a death, a breakup, a loss, or any sort of hardship in life. It’s an attachment that never adheres to the application; that song never dies and it never leaves you. It creates a bond that is special to you. We lean on music in our darkest times for its ability to relate and give expression to what we feel, yet no one ever seems to check on the artist. At a purely artistic stance, emotions mirror the music and the music mirrors the emotions. We forget the music is real, and the pain we hear in raw deliveries is often glossed over in the mainstream. Songs that chart aren’t always “Formula Driven,” but rather are oftentimes an outcry for help. We party, rage, hookup, all while publicly ignoring someone's meltdown— someone we worship or claim to support. We forget that the artists we idolize could be—and likely are— in the same mental state as us.

Musician suicide has become more and more common throughout the years. A paper produced by Dianna Kenny and Anthony Asher shows the steady increase of musician suicide:

I would be remiss to not start with Kurt Cobain when discussing big-name suicides in the music world. I won’t explain Kurt’s history or get into the circumstances of his death, but I will say that his music is timeless. Nirvana spawned mainstream grunge and grunge-adjacent bands such as the Foo Fighters. But the prevalence of pain and addiction in music was not left in the 90’s; it lived on for younger generations through names like Amy Winehouse and Lil Peep. Without comparing the two in musical genre or celebrity status, I’m talking about two victims of love that bolster a loyal fanbase's lyrics so raw you’d send it back to the chef. Winehouse’s hit song had everyone laughing and joking about “Going to Rehab,” yet ignored lyrics such as “I don't ever wanna drink again, I just, ooh, I just need a friend.” This song wasn’t a badass anthem about someone spitting in the face of authority— it was a public outcry and nobody blinked twice. Winehouse later died due to alcohol intoxication, and crowds mourned her by holding memorials and playing Rehab in an incredibly macabre act of fandom. I’m fairly biased to Lil Peep, as I was listening to him pre-Beamer Boy and followed his organic growth until his untimely death. One can randomly select any Peep song and would be able to steal a glimpse at some of his demons: anxiety, depression, drug abuse, girls, loneliness, etc. Most of these themes resonated with young people, resulting in a fan base built-up around Peep’s personal struggles. After persistent struggles with drug addiction, Peep passed unexpectedly after a deadly dose of Fentanyl-laced Xanax and other dangerous substances entered his bloodstream. Disregarding unsettled rumors that Peep’s managers encouraged his drug habits to make him “easier to manage,” what feels certain is that Peep’s lack of a good support group led to a numb death. Lil Peep saved so many lives through his ability to take someone’s pain and relate them to a whole class of people. But we took the art for granted in the face of glaring signs that there was a problem. Many top tier rappers right now have fit themselves into a similar position. We can point to artists such as Halsey, Future, Post Malone, Billie Eilish, Lil Uzi Vert, and many more who use self-destruction and other personal struggles as their muse. And in most cases, self-destruction is one of the most artistic things in life. You’re seeing the layers of someone come undone as they succumb to their demons and ultimately use that as fuel for their art. But does that mean that we, the fans, are expected to just ignore our idols’ pain while enjoying what it produced? Sounds fake to me.

Take, for example Lil Uzi’s XO Tour Life. It’s a slapper, an anthem, a bop, and a timepiece for so many summer memories. But do we lack the empathy or awareness of someone’s mental state to not see past a catchy hook? Before that song, Uzi talked about things like Canada Goose, how big of a High Roller he was, and to meet him at the Safe House. This song was raw— catchy, but raw— in a way that no other song of his would ever be. Uzi made a chart-topping club hit with the lyrics, “I might blow my brain out, Xanny numb the pain yeah, please, Xanny make it go away,” which lyrics would later be screamed at parties and celebrations around the globe. By pairing a mainstream catchy beat with downright concerning lyrics, Uzi was able to create a hit where people cared more about the overall sound than the particular lyrics. Uzi didn’t put these lyrics in because he thought Kelly and Chad would hook up to it at 1OAK. Uzi chose these lyrics because they were an outcry for help. Immediately following this song, Uzi went incognito from tours, interviews, and the public eye. After Luv Is Rage 2 was released, he deleted his Instagram, flirted with the idea of retiring, and oftentimes did not show up to concerts that he was set to headline. Now that Eternal Atake has been released, one would hope that he is in a better mental state. That said, though, the list of artists we’ve lost goes on and on. In recent years, Chester Bennington, Mac Miller, Avicii are all household name musicians who, tragically, lacked an outlet like the one they provided for so many. Music’s current fetish and recent glorification of death is a reflection of the emotion newer artists grew up with. Whether these dark themes are becoming part of the “formula,” or truly a product of young artist’s demons, making mental health a more mainstream focus benefits both the listeners that are encouraged to seek help, as well as the artist not only pour their own feelings into their work, but also know that it is helping people avoid that same pain. Whether they’re an industry plant or a Soundcloud rapper, this is their outlet. And if you call yourself a fan, you should be an outlet for them.