DROP THE FACADE
SONGS GUARANTEED
TO MELT YOUR
FROZEN HEART

Frozen hearts are like snowflakes: They’re all utterly unique. And as a result, people need to find their own way back to emotional life. No single prescription will work for everyone, but the common ingredient in this list is emotion—pure and raw emotion. This is no place for irony. This is a time for tears. So let’s cry it out together. And then, when people ask us what’s the matter, we won’t make excuses about dust in our eyes. “No,” we’ll say, “we’re crying because someone, somewhere, is chopping a giant onion, and we have very sensitive eyes.”

Leonard Cohen’s lyrics and Jeff Buckley’s voice go together like oatmeal and raisins. They blend into each other so naturally that it even makes sense when Buckley sings about the time “she tied you to a kitchen chair” and “broke your throne, and she cut your hair.” That line, on its own, sounds like a lazy dream. Even when Leonard Cohen sings the line it sounds, at the very least, “poetic.” But here it’s just a fact. With Jeff Buckley on hand, the entire song becomes one huge, sorrowful, beautiful fact—akin to the fact of a raisin. Like the raisin, it just exists . . . and hallelujah for that.

If you’ve been living among strangers for months, then “Faithfully” provides a balm for your homesick soul; but if you’ve just gotten home from the party of the decade, this song is also just the thing. It’s unaccountable, but it’s true. Whatever the problem is, or however problem-free your life, “Faithfully” will speak to you and make things better. So while “Don’t Stop Believin’” may be the proper response to the eternal question, “Karaoke?,” “Faithfully” remains the answer to a different kind of question, namely: “How fast should we be swaying our heads right now?” This fast, friends. This fast.

“Unchained Melody” is like a crash course in human relationships. It starts out with a teenage love affair (“LONE-ly times”), moves on to a mature, dynamic partnership (“I . . . need your love”), and concludes with the poignant, devastated reflections of old age (“Time . . . can do . . . so much . . .”). And then, after three minutes and thirty-six seconds spent hurtling through time and space, you open your eyes (your blurry, reddened, grief-stricken eyes) and realize you’ve just mourned the loss of an imaginary lover who would now be roughly 72 years old. The universe is cruel, and so is this song. The price of admission is all of the tears in your heart. Welcome.

PS: It’s also worth noting that “Unchained Melody” basically starred, alongside Demi Moore, Patrick Swayze, and clay, in the ’80s classic Ghost. (Proof that immortality happens when you least expect it.)

For a while it seemed like Fleetwood Mac had a monopoly on both heartache and heartlessness. Everyone in the group was in love, everybody was cheating, and nobody cared what happened next. It was a confusing period for the band. “Landslide,” however, is as simple as can be. It’s beautiful and quiet and sad, and despite its heartfelt lyrics, it still feels right at home today—even making an appearance on Glee in 2011. No self-respecting breakup playlist would be complete without it.

It’s hard to project our minds back to a time when hippies were avant-garde, relevant, and cool. There are advantages and disadvantages to this state of affairs, but I think we can all agree that those hippies had an emotional intensity that we’re missing out on today. Luckily, Alex Ebert (the band’s robe-swaddled front man) seems determined to bring some of that intensity back. In a recent interview, he used the word “transcendent” to describe the magic of live shows, and that adjective certainly applies to “Home” as well. Wherever this song goes, it leaves jimmy-jangling fans in its wake. It has solved the problem of sadness. Next items on the agenda: tie-dyed raindrops and world peace.

“Fairytale” is a sentimental, obscenity-laced ode to New York that was written and performed by a Cetlic punk band, and it’s as heartwarming as a teddy bear in socks. It’s a legitimate miracle, and somewhere, pigs are flying. (Let’s just hope that the Pogues aren’t throwing them.)

Everyone knows this song, everyone pretty much loves it, and everyone’s heard it a billion times. But still, it just won’t go away—and good thing, too, because how else would we explain to our pets what “lovesick” means? It’s a big concept, and pets are generally quite poor at English. But now we can just play this song, and the problem is solved. How can we be sure that the animals really understand? Because how could they not!? It’s Adele! Plus, my pet Gila monster doesn’t normally sob like this.

Super Bowl attendees and theatergoers alike swoon before the power of the Boch (Andrea Bocelli) and his rendition of “Time to Say Goodbye.” This song offers irrefutable proof that the heart wants what it wants—full stop. (PS: The heart wants this song, sung this way.) I assume that this song is about saying good-bye to someone, but whether this good-bye is taking place literally or metaphorically, in Italy or in outer space, for a minute or for all time— there, I have no idea. I don’t think anyone does, because as Bocelli and Sarah Brightman (another opera star at the time this song was recorded) belt this thing out, all anyone can hear is the sound of two people just loving each other. Just sweet-loving each other forever, with no jokes, no irony, no insults—just mutual respect and everlasting admiration.

This song is as earnest as a nickel, crazy as a codpiece, and pretty as a peach. But you know what, so is love! (And so, for that matter, are the Killers.) “Romeo and Juliet” has a sweetness that’s almost impossible to deny, and once you’ve opened your heart to the song’s simple pleasures, then you’re susceptible to the huge burden of melancholy that has somehow been smuggled in under wraps. Then you look up, and all you can see is mood. This mood is super weird. But it’s only by virtue of that overall effect that lines like “when we made love, you used to cry” work so well. This song will not stop making love to us, and we cannot stop crying.

Sweet melody? Check. Lyrics that appear to be lifted from a hyper-obscene Valentine’s Day card? Check. Vows, compliments, promises? Check, check, checkmate. Some songs demand grand gestures. This is one of those songs. Or, in the tender words of T.I., “My chick could have what she want/And go in every store for any bag she want.” Any bag. This is love. Go get it.