💌 Issue #2

Issue #2

Hi Reader ! How you been lately?

It’s a rainy Sunday in Barcelona, and the second issue is about to come out. I want to start this letter with a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who subscribed, congratulated me, and got in touch to tell me which song they liked best. That connection is the reason I do this, and I’m incredibly grateful for a life where I get to write about my favorite songs.

This issue starts with two songs that, in my head, are connected because they talk about the same thing: loving your friend so much that you wish you were gay so you could date them. The other three songs have nothing to do with that, but they’ve been floating around in my head over the past month. I hope you enjoy them! If you do and feel like telling me about it, please send me an email at hello@letstalksongs.com I would love to read your thoughts. I really, REALLY mean it. 🫶🏻

Now hit play : )

Let's talk songs #3 💌 • Fio...

Up on the Roof • Dear Nora

PREVIEW

And remember you can listen to all the previous issues in one single playlist here

A female artist

My best friend by Hello Saferide (2005)

My Best Friend is about having a crush on—(you guessed it!)—your best friend. Make no mistake, this isn’t a song about a romantic crush or rediscovering your sexuality; it’s a friend crush. You know, you and your BFF do everything together, and you wish you had the same thing with a guy—or, actually, that you were a lesbian so you could fall in love with her. But you’re not a lesbian. You lament it. You write a song about it. This is that song.

In the first verse, our hopeless romantic sings:

You call me up in the mornings
We'll stay on the phone until dawning
You tell me secrets I actually keep

You call me up around noon and
You bring me all the good gossip
You hold my head when I throw up
I hold your hand when you weep

(…)

Damn! I wish I was a lesbian and that you were too

So I could fall in love with you.

Sweet, right? But also kind of sad when you realize this person has clearly been dating all the wrong people—because she can’t imagine a male romantic partner doing those same things for her. Which is crazy.

Except for the gossip part. Have you ever tried to get a heterosexual man to bring you good gossip? Don’t waste your time. They just can’t.

Either a guy or a band

Tim I wish I were born a girl by Of Montreal (1997)

Here’s a song about the same feeling—but from a male perspective. But really, gender is irrelevant, because the lyrics aren’t like, “We’re always using power tools together and watching footy—be my baby.” He just wants someone to take care of, make soup for, and watch TV with. Isn’t that something we can all agree on?

When you got sick
I could take the day off work
I could’ve made you chicken soup
And we could watch soap operas

Oh, those TV dramas

I could catch your cold
And you could take care of me

It doesn’t really matter if you’re a man, a woman, or somewhere in between—because at the end of the day, all we really want is to eat pasta and snuggle up. And if these are such simple things that we all enjoy, want, and seek, why do both men and women think they can only get them from their BFF?

I mean, that’s why the best relationships are the ones where your partner is also your best friend—where you have that level of intimacy. I always love when people say they married their best friend. Let's all marry our besties.

This song is a cool kid with glasses

My whole life story by Holly Shit (2006)

Songs like My Whole Life Story are the reason I started this newsletter. I’m like a gatekeeper in reverse: when I discover a hidden gem, I want to share it with everyone.

It was around 2012, and I was hanging out at my friend Jenny’s flat when she showed me this song. Actually, it wasn’t Holy Shit’s version, but a YouTube video of Christopher Owens from the band Girls playing it at a very intimate gig. The footage is black and white, he fucks up a few times, and he even sings the guitar solos and drum fills. Watching that video always feels like watching a friend play me a song he just learned.

Look, I think you should stop reading this, go watch the video, and then come back.

Did you watch it? Isn’t it beautiful and adorable?

I think I started keeping a journal in my first year of secondary school. I remember hiding it in my bedroom inside shoe boxes so my mother wouldn’t find it (though, to be fair, my mother had zero interest in entering my room). So I’ve always loved these lyrics:

You can talk about the way you understand me
But I don't think you really understand me
Go ahead and write my whole life story
Sell it to my mother for a good read
I'm sure she'd love to know

The other day, I went to a café to write this newsletter, but I didn’t get much writing done. A friend texted me from Buenos Aires—she was going through a rough time and seemed distressed, so I offered her a video call. My friend, who has been through a lot in the past few years, told me how she was able to recognize, in the moment, that she had been pulled into a chaotic situation—and how that awareness allowed her to step away from it.

Literally, she went for a walk and ended up in an empty church. We talked about how good churches are—not as organizations, but as places where you can just walk in and have a moment of silence and peace with your mind. I like that this song agrees with us.

Walking up the avenue I hear the bells chime
Ringing to my step, and I feel so fine
Knowing there's a place for me to ease my mind
Knowing there's no reason to be unkind

Oh, the places we could go…

Plus, I love that this song actually includes the chord progression in its lyrics:

A minor, to E seven, to F, C, G

Enjoy!

You know this artist, maybe not this song

Don’t worry about the government by The talking heads (1977)

I first liked this song because of its upbeat melody and the naivety in the chorus:

Loved ones, loved ones visit the building

Take the highway, park and come up and see me

I’ll be working, working, but if you come visit I’ll put down what I’m doing,

my friends are important!

I liked the idea of a person who’s focused and all serious about work but would still prioritize their friendships if they want to stop by and hang for a bit. I was unaware of the sarcastic tone until I took a closer look at the lyrics:

My building has every convenience

It’s gonna make life easy for me

It’s gonna be easy to get things done

I will relax alone with my loved ones

David Byrne had mentioned that as a writing exercise, he would think about a type of person and try to imagine what that person would write a song about. In Don’t Worry About the Government, the narrator is a man who has a comfortable life, lives in a nice building, and sees the clouds that move across the sky. He is optimistic… He tells us not to worry about the government, that everything’s going fine, that they’re good people doing their best to help us all!

I see the states across this big nation

I see the laws made in Washington, D.C.

I think of the ones I consider my favorites

I think of the people that are working for me

Some civil servants are just like my loved ones.

They work so hard and they try to be strong.

I’m a lucky guy to live in my building.

The lack of critical thinking and not questioning the government because you have everything going for you is selfish, sadly common, and, above all, worrying. The last line is extra-frustrating

Don’t you worry about me, I wouldn’t worry about me.

Which only makes things worse! So many idiots aren’t worried about being idiots!

Hey, at least we have songs like this to dance to.

My discovery of the month

Bon Voyage by Hinds (2024)

Hinds is one of my go-to bands when I want to get shit done, get ready to go out, or run fast at the gym. Their songs are fun, catchy, and have great guitar lines. If you know me in real life, there’s a chance I’ve insisted that you go watch them play when they visited your city. This is not just because I love sharing music and want the people I like to have a good time; it’s also because supporting women in music, especially independent artists, is something I take very seriously. We need more women making music, for Christ’s sake—don’t even get me started on that…

While I know I can always rely on Hinds’ songs for a fun time, they’re usually not my first choice when I think of great lyrics. Don’t get me wrong—their writing is solid, and since English isn’t their first language (they’re from Madrid), sometimes they phrase ideas in a way that a native speaker never would, which makes their songs extra special. But in my humble opinion, they’re not exactly life-changing.

The other day, I was walking home listening to their latest album, Viva Hinds, when Bon Voyage started playing. I’d listened to the song many times before and had always liked it. It’s fun to sing along to because they switch between English, Spanish, and French—three languages I’m fluent in. And while I know this song well, and it’s one of my favorites from Viva Hinds, as I was crossing the street, I noticed a chunk of lyrics I had never really paid attention to before:

Looking after ghosts and monsters

I can’t believe that I’m not doing better

Oh my god, what a disaster

I can’t believe that I’m not doing better, wow!

That’s not only the last line of the song but the last line of the album, too. What the fuck.

As I walked down the street, I got goosebumps and cried for a bit—not out of sadness, but out of gratitude. Gratitude for being the kind of person who feels deeply, who is moved by art, who carries enough empathy to step into other people’s experiences and be brought to tears.

Those lines, while simple, perfectly embody a feeling I’ve known well: the sting of self-inflicted pain, the realization that you’ve been your own tormentor. Ghosts and monsters never ask to be taken care of—they’re scary, powerful, and do quite well on their own. What were you thinking, right? There’s shame in that realization, but also humor (Oh my god, what a disaster! Wow!) and, most importantly, growth. And I think that when we finally recognize this, we can shine a light on the ghosts and monsters and see them for what they really are: the monster, just a dust bunny under the bed; the ghost, nothing but an old sheet. That's when we start to do better.