Song, when needed, cuts to the feeling

The “song of the summer” saved my life once.

OK, that’s an exaggeration. Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Cut to the Feeling” did not pull me from a burning building, but it was a key part of a night out three years ago that helped me get over a difficult period in my personal life.

The song isn’t profound in its lyrics or musicality. Saturated in chirping synthesizers and a dance beat, it’s about wanting to get to the good stuff — “cut through the clouds, break the ceiling … I wanna cut to the feeling.” Having gone through some downs recently, I could relate to the sentiment. I’m not usually in agreement with lists that try to brand “songs of the summer,” but that year I thought they got that one right. The song was inescapable, yet it hadn’t become grating. I didn’t know it would become personally significant.

One night that summer, a friend insisted I go out with him, saying it would be good for me. I was just beginning to get out of my malaise, but it still felt like an enormous step to get dressed and be around people. There was some prodding, but he eventually got me out on the dance floor. (Dancing in a crowded, hot bar on a summer night seems like something from another century in our pandemic lives: Remember how good it could feel?)

We were shoulder to shoulder with drag queens and other queers, moving together, part of this tradition that goes back to circling around fires in caves. When “Cut to the Feeling” came on, the throng let out an excited “ohhhh!” and started singing along. I remember looking at my friend and realizing we were singing together, and I was singing the chorus with a lot of enthusiasm. It was this moment of total stupid joy that helped break through the cloud of anxiety and depression that had surrounded me. I remember realizing that I was still capable of feeling overwhelming happiness for a few moments, and that if I hadn’t lost that, I was doing better than I thought.

2020 doesn’t feel like a “song of the summer” type of year. Sure, there are popular songs like Chloe X Halle’s “Do It” and Lady Gaga’s “Free Woman,” but we don’t hear them when we’re going out because we’re not going out. We’re certainly not going to bars and clubs, and we’re definitely not dancing on packed, sweaty dance floors.

Summer wasn’t canceled this year, but it has felt incomplete. If I thought 2017 was an anxious year, 2020 has dwarfed it exponentially. I joke that my personal “song of this summer” that expresses my feelings now is probably a loop of Yoko Ono screaming.

Then the other day, I was on an early morning walk and was one of the few people on the streets. Some familiar lyrics came on in my playlist: “I had a dream, or was it real? We crossed the line and it was on …” I had this momentary excitement that brought me back to that bar, to the dance floor, to singing with my friend. When the chorus came on I thought, “Yes, I agree, I do want to cut to the feeling!”

I started mouthing the words, hidden under my mask. “What the hell,” I thought, “there’s no one around, and my mask will hide it if there is.” I began to sing along, and I was happy to discover I was still capable of feeling a little stupid joy — even if for only a few moments.

I joke that my “song of this summer” is probably a loop of Yoko Ono screaming.