Bummer Summer: Round Two

This summer has been quite the bummer, right? We here at Tell Me Something got to thinking: What is the biggest bummer song? You know, that song that you put on and to make yourself feel sad and super Zach Braff-y. Well, there's really only one way to find out and that's an incredibly sad, deeply depressing and somewhat biased look at the songs that bring us down the most presented in a confusing and, again, biased form. Here we go...

Jimmy Eat World - "Hear You Me" 

I have yet to bury a single person whose number resides in my contacts list, which may be why I become so affected by the staggering tragedies that occur in the lives of others. When I first heard Jimmy Eat World’s “Hear You Me,” the sorrow of it was blatantly apparent. There’s no shadow of melancholy or hint of despair. When Jim Adkins expresses never having had the chance to tell someone thank you, a listener is reminded of the last message they’d tell someone who’s impact was greater than they imagined. That sentiment is one that we are reminded of in every instance of loss that occurs around us – there’s an automatic response to reach out and connect with the people we love most.

From 2002 to present day, “Hear You Me” is the only song I’ve ever found comfort in when chaos and sadness and pure, unarguable tragedy was unfolding in the world around me. With tears welling up as I wait for the latest update from CNN, fresh word from a parent, or a text message confirmation from a friend, I put this song on and let the words “may angels lead you in” repeat in my head. I can’t tell you why, but it helps. It helps the sadness feel less crushing and it helps me to cope. I can only hope that when I am personally faced with unimaginable loss, the repeating of a worn chorus will comfort me in the same way it has for over a decade. - Lindsey Bluher

The Cinematic Orchestra - "To Build A Home" 

I may have an unhealthy obsession with death and dying, and it may just be my number one crippling fear (like so many self-obsessed neurotics who want to live forever). But I suppose it stands worth noting then when a song can be done so well as to temporary ease the pain and isolation of our pitiful meaningless existence, and that song for me is "To Build A Home."

Like my other pick for this bracket, the song is ostensibly about The End -- the final curtain call for all of us. But what's inherently clever about the song is that it builds you up and takes you down alongside the musicality of it. The song, at first glance simply about Building Homes, starts slow and crescendos into this swell of strings and instrumentation with the lyrics -- "I built a home for you, for me" -- but it quickly drops off and allows for the echoes to fill the hollow silence that follows -- "Until it disappeared from me, from you" -- until we are left with nothing.

"And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust…"

I've heard the song maybe a thousand times now. "Ma Fluer" is a great record, and a very diverse one at that. But after all this time, I still find it impossible not to be sad when hearing the slow and soulful piano tones matched with Patrick Watson's melancholy droning and falsetto. I mean, this is a song about saying goodbye to everything you loved, whether you view it literally (as death) or metaphorically (the death of something shared). It's a song about loss, and no matter how bittersweet of a song it is, I find it difficult not to hear it and remember that I've lost something. Good songs will do that. - Matthew Meylikhov

Winner announced later. Feel free to comment or tweet @TMSDOTORG with your vote, although I don't think it will matter, this is all arbitrary.