Music sounds better with dew

MANILA, Philippines - It’s stopped raining.

Here. Now. Over Central Luzon…

And as this gets to you, I’m wishing that you were in bed. I really do. Under the covers, inside a rain cloud, nursing a Friday-to-Saturday hangover while by some cosmic stroke it’s back to being dark and pouring out. My misery needs company, naturally.

And since I’m feeling old enough to tutor, I’ve put together a rough template for your very own Rainy Day Mix. Here’s how to maintain that low-pressure area in your mind.

The obvious choice

Sad songs make me happy. As do raindrops. It’s comforting to think that someone had it worse than you, enough to channel their energy into writing a song about it. I’m thinking In The Dark by The Changes, which also happens to have one of the best visualizations of a rainy day known to man (In the rain/in my jacket/in the dark when we meet). Of course, to avoid being corny, not every song on the list has to have the word “rain” in it. Ditto for the noun “tears.”

The movie that redefined torrid kissing in the rain for an entire generation

The cuddler fuddler

Calling all bedweather friends! Everyone knows storm signals really signify various levels of cuddling. But do remember that, whatever the code, this particular track is a lower, more wholesome strain of the league’s more dark-roast, ninja music (aka R. Kelly’s Bump N’ Grind). This is less about fumbling in the dark, and more about the physiological need for warmth. Contenders Love Scene by Joe and Butta Love by Next were both disqualified for this reason. Twista’s Slow Jamz gets points for subtlety; Aaliyah’s At Your Best and Ciara’s Never Ever, for their ability to suggest belly bending. But, right now, Mike Posner’s Bow Chicka Wow Wow just wins it for me — trailing off into an electric guitar solo, and getting the necessary “washing windows” encryption down pat.

The sad song cardio

In the rain, no one can see your tears. How many times have we heard that line? In the same line of questioning, how many times have we actually tried to prove it? This might explain my habit of pursuing perspiration under precipitation. I’m someone whose instinct, when it rains, is to go running. There is only one song for this: Temper Trap’s Love Lost. The video pretty much approximates the experience — short shorts, knee high socks, pyrotechnics, and finish line-puking, included. Besides, we really have filled the quota on Sweet Disposition.

The bubble burster

Body heat and saving lives: One of the many redeeming qualities of cuddling

If you like piña coladas — and getting caught in the rain — you should also acknowledge the fact that every mix needs to have a deal breaker. It’s important to have a sense of humor. Otherwise, you’ll just end up wallowing in sadness. Rupert Holmes’ Escape (The Piña Colada Song) fills the void perfectly, with its aurally cool, Miike Snow-Sans Soleil stylings. Add to that the fact that its exposition on want ads captures the feeling of longing that a rainy day brings.

The summer souvenir

Songs on a mix are, by definition, already quite wistful. But it’s the memory that we try to resuscitate that brings it into rainy-day territory. In this case, the no-brainer reminder would be one that takes us back to summer, while still being melancholy enough to pull you back down into the low pressure bubble. In this case, Bird And The Bee’s remake of Heard It On The Radio, while soothingly syrupy in vocal tone, and thus, quite cozy, might have to bow out to Air’s Playground Love, or the Shout Out Louds’ Impossible (this was awesome live). Lyrics “like I don’t want to feel like it’s an end of a summer / Your love is something I cannot remember” basically call to mind the adage that in order to move forward, we must go back. So. Not. True.

The piano solo

Indulgent instrumentals seem so right on, when you’re on an emotional trip, and thus deserve a spot on this whiny playlist. Badly Drawn Boy’s Magic In The Air has me lying on a baby grand for its sentimental piano-tickling and equally romantic recollection of a long-drawn summer night — right up to the part where you find yourself taking your heels off.

The Duff coming clean: Back to sanity

The credit chaser

Glorious movie montages and closing scenes have one thing in common: sad yet hopeful musical beds. (Airports come a close second.) And since my favorite genre of music is soundtrack, I’ve had to do a toss-coin on Nada Surf’s Inside Of Love (so very HIMYM marathon) and Coldplay’s Ladder To The Sun. The latter will play at my wedding, though. If it ever gets to that point.

The tropical depressant

Some tracks are just so heavy. Snow Patrol’s How To Be Dead, Radio Department’s whole album, or the must-be-paired-with-Prozac Color Blind by Counting Crows are all prime commiserating materials.

The cusack

Remember romance? That point in Say Anything where John Cusack was blasting a song from a stereo over his shoulder? This is the song he’d be playing, in a hypothetical remake. Stars’ Undertow, or the bed-begging One More Night are good mood-makers, but Gypsy and The Cat’s Watching Me, Watching You might just be the best tune to blast on low-fi.

The emolectric cut

Heto ako, basang-basa sa ulan, walang masisilungan, walang malalapitan.

In lieu of the drunken karaoke anthem (i.e. full-blast Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson), slip in an unexpected, yet still ambient dose of electronics, like the warped starting point of The Knife’s Heartbeats, the sitar buildup on Passion Pit’s pitter-patter-timed Swimming in the Flood, or even something a bit more clubby. Which might be perfect. Cause all that preparation for nothing?? Clubs happen to be one of the saddest places known to man.

The cuddler fuddler pt. Ii

Keep. On. Cuddling. In the end, that’s really what all this precipitation boils down to. For this purpose, I suggest Alicia Keys’ Unthinkable. It has all the elements of a rainy day track: sexy singing, beats that approximate the sound of rain, a certain wistful musicality, and lyrics that promote the prohibited. It’s true that there are some things you do, some things you say, some people you text, when you’re rained in and left to simmer in your own emotional stew. The rain can make you do crazy things. Liquid courage, I guess.