"Up in Flames " by Years & Years (updated repost), Thursday, February 29, 2024

If x then happiness. Find x. Simple algebra. What is the one thing you want for life or for the moment? How do you get it? That's the problem. I can think about some times in my life when I thought everything was coming together only for it all to fall apart. There was this awesome housing situation in college until my roommate called to say that he wasn't coming back next year. Or establishing the "dream team" at two of my schools. Spoiler alert: it never lasts, and new drama comes up to make the dream team more of a nightmare. If only I had that promotion. If only I bought X.  If only that person was available. X-Y= happiness. But what happens when it doesn't happen? What happens when the exact opposite happens. You don't get the promotion. Maybe you get fired. They get married rather than breaking up. The relationship turns abusive or maybe hidden infidelity. What happens next? That's what this synth-pop single by Years & Years deals with.  

I DREAMED OF A LIFE SO BIG AND TALL. Robert Burns wrote in "To a Mouse": "Best laid schemes o[f] mice an[d] men [go oft awry]." Years & Years is a group I've gotten into gradually. I found Alexander's usage of religious imagery in much of the band's songs interesting. Themes of longing for connection, gender/queerness, and ritual permeate around the sounds of synths and a grooving beat. Olly Alexander certainly isn't the first openly gay musician to hit the radio, but most singers don't use same-sex pronouns in their music as do Years & Years. What I've found when listening to the band is that it takes a while for their songs to hit me, but when they do each song becomes a transformative experience both musically and lyrically. Today's song seems to be about parents' divorce, but it could also be about falling in love with someone in a relationship waiting for the other relationship to end.

WEAKNESS WON'T BE YOUR SAVIOR. I used to be a disappointment prepper, maybe I still am. I figure if I think that the worst case could happen, I’ll be satisfied with whatever outcome happens if it’s not the worst thing, and somehow I’ll be prepared to deal with the worst case if it does happen. I was a chronic worrier when I was a kid. When I was in kindergarten, my dad’s truck caught on fire. The truck stalled in the driveway after my dad delivered firewood to a customer. My dad, sister, and I sat for a few seconds in the truck. My dad later said that he was puzzled why the truck had died but I just thought we were sitting waiting to go in the house like we would do sometimes. Then we started to see ash coming form the hood. My dad yelled at us, “Get out!” He grabbed my sister and I didn’t bother opening my heavy door. I was out the door right behind my dad. Next thing I knew, the flames grew and my dad was spraying the open hood with our garden hose. He eventually sold the truck, but I started to have a fear of old trucks and fire after that day. The fire safety videos at school kept me awake very late many nights, particularly in the winter. Would a stray log roll out of the stove? Could I be sure that the electrical wiring was done right in the house? And every type of natural or unnatural disaster I learned about I added to my prayer list--my handover to God to watch over me and my family when I couldn’t be in control. I don’t know when I grew out of this. I don’t remember my prayer list from ten years or after being a list of “save me from ….” I think started to learn that I couldn’t control everything and that sometimes you are just a victim no matter what precautions you take. But still, I catastrophize events in my personal life. “I’m  pretty sure that _____ might happen. If it does, I will need to do ____.” But I’m trying to fight that instinct and just let things happen. Whatever happens, “The future will be rearranged.”

Read “Up in Flames” by Olly Alexander on Genius.