“Kick the Tragedy” is the Song for 19-Year-Olds
Delaware was released over thirty years ago, yet I feel that I’m right there with the Drop Nineteen’s in whatever rundown BU basement they wrote the album in. I listened to the 1992 album all the way through just a few days ago when I emerged from a Halloween-induced brain coma that had me sleeping through my parents’ phone calls only to wake up to my own shame and nausea. By the end of it, I felt utterly sick with myself—and some type of cold. On Monday morning I woke up before the Sun, sank into my dorm’s couch with a hot cup of coffee, and listened to “Kick the Tragedy” for the first time. I’m not exactly sure how the song wound up on my queue, but the disruptive yet ethereal instrumentals made me stop and listen—which for my hyperactive tendencies is quite rare.
The song begins with some Slowdive-esque synth guitar that immediately feels familiar. Shoegaze and dream pop were my favorite fixations when I was a junior in high school, so the whole noisy shtick is both familiar and welcoming to my ears. The first five-and-a-half minutes weren’t very special—just the average genre-typical melodies and hypnotics. At first, I assumed the Drop Nineteen’s were another English band that worshipped the Cure and the emergence of everything electronic. However, when the voice came in along with the decrescendo of the guitar, speaking not singing, "I think it was the first time I realized that I can change the world,” the American accent combined with the youthful, almost childish, voice surprised me.
I have to say that I usually dislike spoken lyrics in songs. The lack of melodic intonations reminds me of reading poetry aloud in classrooms—the absolute trauma of it. It’s the reason I can’t stand most instrumental bands—who use it as a placeholder for their lack of vocal talent. But “Kick the Tragedy” personally kicked me in the heart with their lyrics. The voice is so tragically youthful as they go on in an emotional stream of consciousness ramble about their youth—reflections of what once was and what could have been (at least that’s how I see it). Looking back at childhood can be a very lonely thing. It’s almost as if you’ve become isolated from all the dreams you had: the different versions of you. The song ends like this:
It’s even funny when you stop to realize I’m just nineteen, and how serious can anything be anyway? Not very.
And doesn’t that totally encompass what being 19 feels like? Ugh.
I ended up listening to the entire album a few days later, adding over half of the songs to my Spotify’s liked songs section. Delaware is one of those albums that blend together into a 45-minute song (in a good way?) that may have a few discernible moments among all the guitar effects and hazy vocals—the lyrics on “Kick the Tragedy” being the most significant to me. All of the songs I liked were dispersed through different playlists, put into a place where I can easily reach them when I’m on a walk or one of my runs that require slightly depressing music to push me through. However, listening to “Kick the Tragedy” was sort of unforgettable in a way. It was one of those musical moments where you realize you’ve found something that, though not necessarily groundbreaking, truly speaks to the present moment: a star-aligning, lunar eclipse, moment. I think most 19-year-old girls would get something out of listening to it—even if most of us do in fact think it’s that serious.
