Music is a love language, no doubt about it. When I was an angsty kid in high school, I would often send people songs instead of confessing what I was feeling to them. And can you blame me? Feelings are hard. Music bridges that gap of vulnerability. Feeling sad? Send a wrenching ballad. Happy? A bouncy pop song. Angry? The loudest punk rock song you can get your hands on. My friends did the same thing—and if one of us was going through a hard time, we’d always send each other “hope songs”: songs that feel like a phone call from better days. Songs that feel like encouragement. Like a hand on your shoulder, a hug in the dark, a slash of bright from a circling lighthouse. Jackson Driscoll’s fresh track “Most Things” is, at least to me, a hope song.

It mustn’t be forgotten/Most things turn out this way

Jackson Driscoll is a solo artist and multi-instrumentalist from California. He’s a quietly brilliant creator on the rise in indie pop circles. Listening to his work will make you feel like you’re sitting in a garage with a friend, legs crossed on the dusty floor, listening in on something secret and precious. “Most Things” addresses itself directly to the listener, imploring that they remember to live in the moment even amidst pain and drama. “Welcome change, rearrange,” Driscoll sings early in the song. Throughout the song he emphasizes the strangely comforting familiarity of suffering. You can get through this, he seems to say through the metallic guitar and bright drums. I know that this is true because you’ve gotten through it before. 

Don’t give in from this pain/All those days you thought then the sun came up again

There is certainly a bizarre comfort in the cyclical nature of pain. Driscoll insists in “Most Things” that if you can rely on anything, it is the tides of change. Pain can only last so long…even though every time you experience pain, it may feel endless all over again. The speaker acknowledges the depth and validity of discomfort while living in the “scenes of yesterday” but remains resolutely forward-faced. This is a song about looking to the future while acknowledging the pain of the present. Driscoll’s deep and earnest voice communicates that message both in lyric and in tone.

May be easier said than done/But dwelling won’t help, if you do you’ll miss all the fun

The soundscape capitalizes off bedroom pop’s muffled, intimate sound. Sonically, the song seems coated in a metallic filter, a heady sharpness that lends authenticity to the message. Again I am struck by the atmosphere and sense of place in the track—the listener feels close enough to be sitting right beside Driscoll, in the same messy garage, sharing stories. It is this convincing closeness that sets “Most Things” apart from other songs in the genre. 

If music is a love language, then “Most Things” is a hopeful letter. It’s an ode to the future and a promise to the present. So if your friends are going through a tough time, you should show them some love—send them “Most Things.”