Daily Jam - Seven

Oh, to have come up in the 90’s, a time before the term “emo” was kind of a bad word. It was okay. Honestly, there was just as much bullshit to contend with back then as there is now. It was just different. But to come of age during that time and to really get into music then, the nostalgia runs hard and deep, the songs and bands and styles and genres forever cementing themselves to my psyche. They are forever running through my veins, my ears, and my heart. I was young, and so was emo. It hadn’t morphed into the…thing…it would later become. It was just a style of melodic music indebted to hardcore punk, but skewing personal rather than political, dwelling on private feelings and interpersonal relationship commentary rather than social themes or mores. There was still anger, but there was hopelessness as well, and enough self-doubt and insecurity to rile up any teenager within listening distance. Which worked out well and good for me, as I was 15 the first time I heard Sunny Day Real Estate’s Diary, and fell head over heels for it.

Opening with “Seven,” a song that would go on to pretty much define the band, if not the entire emo sub-genre, for the next couple of decades, Diary flows through it’s 11 tracks with a quiet/LOUD/quiet/LOUD panache, a swirl of dark and sweet moods and obtuse, (maybe) confessional lyrics. It’s like reading the journal entries from some mysterious teenage outcast, the quiet, brooding genius sitting by himself at the lunch table. The whole thing felt instantly relatable, despite any lack of understanding of lyrical thematic meaning or content on my part (i'm kind of an idiot). It didn’t matter. The album felt like anguish, thanks in no small part to Jeremy Enigk’s swoon and wail. It was perfect for a shy, insecure teenager like me, and while I may have moved away from it while growing up, I always find myself coming back for more “Seven.”

Being the first song I heard from the band, probably on 120 Minutes or something, “Seven” seemed to belong just to me. At the time, none of my other friends had any idea who Sunny Day Real Estate was, and as far as I knew, I owned the only copy available in Midland, Texas. That was certainly not the case, but I felt like they were my band. Growing up, you attach yourself to plenty of different groups and artists that belong to your group of friends, or your generation, or whatever, but it was wholly different and wonderful to have something that seemed like it was mine entirely. In a lot of ways, that feeling is what has made me actively seek out and discover new and interesting music over the last 30 years, like some junkie trying to relive that first high. I want to feel that way again.

The craving never subsides, but I guess I’m okay with that.

Listen below, our Daily Jam.