and sometimes when you’re on, you’re really fuckin’ 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 absense
but you’ll fight and you’ll make it through, you’ll fake it if you have to, and you’ll show up for work with a smile. you’ll be better and you’ll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend. you’ll be awake, you’ll be alert, you’ll be positive though it hurts, and you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends. you’ll be a real good listener. you’ll be honest. you’ll be brave. you’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful. you’ll be happy.
More Adventurous deserves to be remembered as the ultimate anti-love album of the early aughts, not because it rails with rage or sobs uncontrollably in heartbreak, but for the way it embraces the futility of precious love, laughs under its breath at the ways relationships can ruin our lives in subtle everyday ways, quietly rejects the institution that is marriage.
As a teenager, I could connect to these songs on an emotional level, but now in my 20s (around the same age as the members of Rilo Kiley when they penned these lyrics), I can understand their intricacies more sharply. Listening from a suburban basement, I mined these songs for the quippy one-liners and unshakeable hooks. I still think those are fine reasons to love a song. But it’s only now that I can fully understand their complexity and the emotional vulnerability it takes to spill out your insides like this.