Nine Songs That Don’t Lie in the Confessional

Honest music from three independent women

Photo by Shalone Cason on Unsplash

Recently in “Why Was This Song a Hit?” Terry Barr questioned the purported honesty (and the artistry) of the old number “Sometimes When We Touch (The Honesty’s Too Much)” To my mind, a line like “I wanna hold you ’til I die” isn’t just untrue, it’s icky.

Still, is the premise valid that there can be too much honesty, especially in music?

Over the past few decades, we’ve been flooded with singer / songwriters seeking (or pretending) to express their innermost feelings in three minutes or less. Joni Mitchell has been credited (or blamed) for popularizing the confessional mode, even though she stated that the term doesn’t apply to her music.

A number of women (most male singer / songwriters don’t seem so eager to confess publicly) have learned how to put on a good show. Hearing some of these dramatic outpourings, with their clever metaphors and anguished laments, is a little like watching someone juggle bowling balls and swords. At the end of the show, all that has happened is that someone juggled bowling balls and swords. No one has changed. Neither the confessors nor the listeners have learned anything about themselves or the larger world.

The real problem isn’t too much honesty but not enough. As the ironic advice goes, “If you can’t be sincere then fake it.” Dishonest music is like junk food that doesn’t satisfy your hunger but just makes you hungry for more junk food.

Honest confession may not be immediately palatable. It often requires admitting something we’d rather not say.

Contrast the line “I wanna hold you ’til I die” with the regret by Joan Baez in “Diamonds and Rust,” “Speaking just for myself, we both could’ve died then and there.” The unpleasant truth that Baez admits is that the pinnacle of love for her wasn’t a pinnacle for her partner at the time (who was “so good at keeping things vague”).

The three women who wrote and sang these nine songs have looked inward and expressed without lying or artifice the hard truths that they found.

1. “Hey Ho” by Hello Saferide

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The music journalist from Sweden, Annika Norlin, was about to study psychology but became a singer / songwriter instead, adopting two different band names: “Hello Saferide” for her songs in English and “Sakert!” for songs in Swedish. (Currently she uses her own name for both.) Most of her works are stories centered on a fictionalized persona and situation (her second LP is titled More Modern Short Stories from Hello Saferide).

Even though Norlin plays the adult version of the youthful protagonist of the video for “Hey Ho,” the chronicle of the betrayal of a friendship is probably not autobiographical, but the hard truths that the song explores are (tragically enough) universal, e.g.

But there is something about him Like he has never seen the world Something so pure and decent I have to destroy it.

2. “Failure” by Annika Norlin

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In 2018, Annika Norlin collaborated on an epistolary LP with fellow Swedish indie pop star Jens Lekman, Correspondence (lyrics and story here). The personae of Norlin’s songs (except for “Silent Night”) seem to be based on her own experiences (if they’re not, she’s done a damn good job of faking it). Note: along with Jonathan Richman, Jens Lekman is one of the few male singer / songwriters writing in the confessional mode (both of them with humor and humility).

In this song Norlin recounts how the fear of failure infected her life until she came to appreciate and even celebrate failure. Then she pivots, as if to question her achievement, then pivots again:

In this song alone I worry: Am I too straight, am I saying things that belong to refrigerator magnets but Oh no! I am liberated now I will do no such thing as to hide what I’m saying

3. “Schooling” by Aroah

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In a number of her songs as Aroah, American / Spanish singer / songwriter Irene Rodriguez Tremblay examines the complex battlefield of romantic entanglements and their aftermath. Her personae often struggle to find a closure that proves elusive, as if a broken relationship can be more enduring than a successful one. (Lyrics here)

4. “12 Hours Today” by Irene Tremblay

Bandcamp site for the song (there’s a separate Bandcamp for songs by Aroah)

The relatively upbeat melody of “12 Hours Today” heightens rather than conceals the frightening nature of depression. The real topic, however, isn’t depression but rationalization. The persona protests that sleeping 12 hours a day is “justified” because “it’s just a phase.” When she sings “One more time” at the end, she’s not just referring to a final chorus but to the futile wish that one more sleep of 12 hours will cure her. Rather than criticizing the persona for avoiding the reality of her suffering, however, the song leads the audience to empathize with those who “find bliss in ignorance.”

5. “How Did We Forget” by El Perro del Mar

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“El Perro del Mar” (“the dog from the sea”) isn’t just the band name for Swedish indie pop singer / songwriter Sarah Assbring, but a metaphor for her role as an artist. One day she was on a beach in Spain, feeling despondent, and a dog came up to her. The dog also seemed sad but consoled the musician by letting her know that she wasn’t alone, which took her out of her sorrow. And so to help others feeling despair, El Perro del Mar creates some of the saddest, most forlorn music ever written. Only that way can she (like the dog from the sea) buoy suffers with the awareness that they aren’t alone. In “How Did We Forget,” she and her lover have made things hard. Is there a way to restore their love? Will remembering what they’ve lost help them rediscover who they were? Apparently not. Anyone hoping to find solutions should look elsewhere.

6. “A Better Love” by El Perro del Mar

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Take out a fresh box of tissues for this song. The persona acknowledges that her romantic relationship is over. She confesses that she has caused her lover “so much pain.” She sincerely wishes for him a “better love” that he deserves. But she still can’t accept finality. The song ends, but there’s no indication that the suffering and regret of the persona will.

But is that all there is?

Honest music doesn’t have to be exclusively sad or bitter. If music doesn’t at least offer “a light on your door to show that you’re home” (The Velvet Underground and Nico) then is it true? The three honest, independent women here also sing of hope.

7. “Can I” by Sakert!

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The persona of “Can I” overcomes the fear of asking someone out. Annika Norlin has crafted a video out of the experiences of real people who have dared to do what they want to and need to do.

8. “The Sound of Keys” by Aroah and Dot Tape Dot

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In this collaboration between Aroah and the electronica composer / player dot tape dot (Daniel Romero), the persona fends off the coldness of the evening by anticipating the sound of keys as her partner returns home. It’s simple, direct, and restorative.

9. “Dreamers Change the World” by El Perro del Mar

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The sword-brandishing video is a bit of a departure, but the melancholy melody and heartfelt lyrics (“I may be a dreamer, but don’t call me a fool”) are pure El Perro del Mar.

A conclusion, not an end

It would seem that the honesty of musicians like these three women IS too much for audiences indoctrinated by mass media marketing. Call me a dreamer, but I believe that all listeners yearn for a glimpse into a more authentic life, and that brave, genuine, heartfelt music like these nine songs can help them restore their vision.

If you’ve read this entire article and listened to these songs, I know that you’re already on a journey to what’s real and true for you. Who are some artists who’ve helped shine a light on your door?