The Trews “Highway of Heroes”
For the non-Canadians, there is a route between Trenton (? correct me if I’m wrong) and the Coroner’s Office in Toronto that is used when they have to transport a soldier’s body. That section has been renamed “The Highway of Heroes” and people stand on overpasses, etc. when the procession goes along it. The Trews wrote a song and it’s heart-wrenching.
Brian Fallon (lead singer of the Gaslight Anthem) - “A Wonderful Life”
Popped up on my playlist when I went for a run after the viewing for my 23-year-old niece who had been killed in a motorcycle accident. The line “I don’t wanna survive, I want a wonderful life” hit me hard. That’s all I ever wanted for her, that she’d have a wonderful life.
Adele’s “Don’t you remember”
I was driving with my family on a road trip; beautiful road, happy family: perfect. It was a nice stretch of road and I was having fun driving.
Then the song pops and tears start coming out. It reminded me of my sister who had died 5 years before (even if it’s not really a song that talks about that). Only my wife noticed and even when she didn’t know what was going on, she didn’t ask anything.
For a couple of years, the waterworks every time, but not any more.
Now, the song is nearly over
We may never find out what it means
Still, there’s a light I hold before me
You’re the measure of my dreams, the measure of my dreams ::sniff
I can’t listen to Tears in Heaven. It’s just a raw, open wound of a song. It’s beautiful, but I usually just change the song.
Run for the Roses is a silly one, but I tear up. It’s a weird consequence of growing up horse crazy (and horse racing is mostly terrible), but I still love it.
Brad Paisley, But I thought I loved you then. The song is about how a relationship changes over time, and you find yourself loving each other in deeper and ever changing ways than you ever could have imagined at the beginning. Gets me every time.
“If You Could See Her Through My Eyes” from the movie version of Cabaret. It’s all fun and joking, haha! He’s singing about loving a gorilla! Then that last line hits you and you realize the place and time you’re watching in the movie and BAM! Right out of nowhere.
Songs that gut-punch me the most typically deal with mortality and death. But none of them are written/performed by musicians I don’t like. If they evoke an emotional kick in the gut, I like them (and curse them).
Mother is indeed a raw, powerful song that bares Lennon’s soul. I believe being abandoned by his father and losing his mother when and how he did tortured Lennon for the rest of his life. Fortunately, he was able to channel that pain into heightening his art, not unlike Mozart, Beethoven and other great artists who’ve endured traumatic lives from an early age. “Mother” is an ugly, yet beautiful song that makes me [del] empathetic [/del] sympathetic toward people who’ve lost loved ones at an early age.
When I was 17—Sinatra. When I listened to this song at age 17, it always made me quite sad. Condensing an entire lifespan into a song of 3+ minutes duration made me consider the fleeting time we have to exist on earth and put me into a melancholic funk every time I listened to it. But, now that I’m in* “the autumn of the year”*, listening to When I was 17 no longer puts me into a melancholic funk, it just kicks me with a nostalgic kick in the gut. I don’t feel like “vintage wine” and I realize as you age, the days become even shorter than I anticipated, but I’ve come to terms with that and it’s not so bad. Live the best life you can live, then depart gracefully.
We’ll Meet Again—Vera Lynn: A song that resonated with soldiers going off to war (WWII) and the loved ones they left behind. It’s bittersweet because so many soldiers and their loved ones never did meet again. This song resonated profoundly with my mother—it was her favorite and she played it many times when I was a child. As a result, it resonated with me, too. My parents were lucky (I paid tribute to them a couple years ago) because they did meet again (and married, raised a family and enjoyed a good life together for ~70 years). But hearing that song kicks me in the gut thinking of those who were not so lucky. And it makes me miss my parents very much.
Nocturne Op 48 No.1 C minor—Chopin. Chopin excelled in “sad” and this is one of the saddest pieces of all. It pulls me in (and down) within the first 4 bars. I can’t relate it to my life, but it kicks me in the gut nonetheless whenever I hear it. Lyrics aren’t necessary when musical notes convey such emotion.
Requiem-Lacrimosa—Mozart. “That day of tears and mourning.” The most mournful part of arguably the most mournful mass ever composed. It always makes me tear up remembering the premature death of the second greatest composer in history whose brilliant flame was extinguished much too soon. He gave so much to posterity, yet received so little in return. A crime. Life’s not always fair.
Not all songs that kick me in the gut are sad; transcendence of mankind to a higher plane of existence and universal brotherhood themes kick me pretty hard, too:
9th symphony, movement IV (the symphony within a symphony)—Beethoven. When the Ode to Joy theme develops, then ratchets up with the double fugue, it’s breathtaking. Kind of an obvious choice, but there’s a reason Ode to Joy is often considered the greatest (sub) movement of the greatest composition, by the greatest composer—it’s a sublime masterpiece of the highest order and it makes me think being human may not be so bad after all…at least in theory. Beethoven wasn’t human, he was something more.
Of course, for pure nostalgia, I’ve gotta go with thisclassic.
Tibby, wow.
After that, I’m almost embarrassed to offer my small contribution, two mid-90s-rock gut punches:
Dave Matthews Band, Jimi Thing
Red Hot Chili Peppers, My Friends
Oh then I have another one. kd Lang singing Crying in concert two weeks after Roy Orbison died. To understand why that was so emotional for her (and the audience) you needed to know the backstory between them.
Yeah, this one gets me, too. Songs that make me think about mortality (mine or the people close to me) do that. Barry Manilow’s “When October Comes” hits me the same way–for some reason it always put the fact that my parents weren’t getting any older to mind. It’s worse now that they’re both gone.
Also, I forgot about Assemblage 23’s “30KFT,” which is sung by a guy calling his wife from a plane that’s going down. I can’t listen to that one without crying. Oddly, it’s not about 9/11 (Tom Shear, the guy who wrote it, said so).
I get an expected gut-punch from Five for Fighting’s “100 Years,” which has many of the same mortality themes as some others in this thread. Gah.
This is Us by Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris. I recently realized that I probably won’t have the experience of looking back on a life with someone.
Fields of Gold. I know many here think Sting is a pretentious twat so I wouldn’t blame them if they think it’s contrived drivel, but I can never hear it without having a physical reaction. I remember the first time I heard it , presumably shortly after it came out and he performed it on Jay Leno’s show. I was half asleep when he started and it just made my heart swell. I sat up in bed and couldn’t see the tv through the tears in my eyes. When he was done, the other guest, Marylou Henner, was in tears also.
I can get gut-punched these days by a lot of Carpenters songs. Karen Carpenter was one of the most talented singers of the 20th century. And when you listen to most of the songs she sang, knowing how her life ended, they are almost auto-biographical.
The bass player for the Trews is a friend of a friend, and I’ve played a few rounds of pool with him. My autograph line starts over there —>
Three days after my dad died, I went to see Crosby, Stills, and Nash in concert. They played “Teach Your Children.” I stood there, singing along, and crying my eyes out. I can’t here it now, four years later, without tears.
“Puff the Magic Dragon” makes me think of my cat Toby, whom I had to give up when we became homeless several years ago.
Dreaming with a Broken Heart by John Mayer is another one that gets to me. It’s about that feeling when you dream about someone you’ve lost ( in his case I believe he’s speaking about a lover; I first heard it shortly after my mother died ) and you’re so happy and incredulous to have them back, and then you wake up and remember that they’re gone. He just captures that feeling of despair so well.
Does this song actually made you sad, though? I get that the lyrics are sad, but the way the song is played sounds so upbeat that I’m surprised you would actually feel sad listening to it.
I can’t think of any gut-punch songs by artists I don’t like, but I have two to contribute from artists I like:
“Let Her Cry” Hootie and the Blowfish. I liked this song back in college, and listened to it and cried to it when I broke up with my first long-term boyfriend. As I got older I stopped listening to Hootie as much. Then one day, my husband and I were driving to the DMV, and an ad came on because Hootie would be playing in concert. They only played a few seconds of that song, but it was so unexpected that it, to quote the OP, “unexpectedly gut-punched me emotionally.”
“Life Uncommon” Jewel. Ugh, I’m not sure how to put this without sounding melodramatic, but let me try. I’ve known this song for a while, and it used to be comforting, but not really gut-punching. Then last year, I was in some situations that were kind of morale-killing, and I struggled desperately to get out of them (and did). And now, I’ll be in the car or something singing along to the song, in a totally normal mood, and suddenly my voice will catch in my throat and I feel like I’m about to cry. Lines like “We are tired, we are weary, but we aren’t worn out” or “No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from” just feel so personal and emotional.
I thought of another one that gets me: “The Same Old Sun” by the Alan Parsons Project. Every time I hear it I think of how devastated I would be if I lost my spouse. The line that particularly gets me is:
Taking my life
One day at a time
Cause I can’t think what else to do
I’m not certain the double meaning of “taking my life” was intended, but knowing the care the APP takes with their lyrics, I’d bet it is. And it’s wrenching.