Sometimes music captures everything and more that we’re feeling. Patrick Watson has that magic. “Sit down beside me and stay awhile... ‘cause that’s who we are. That’s what we need.”

Long drives, bad car dancing, her hand in mine. “I’ll be your record player, baby, if you know what I mean.”

Am I happy, sad, or some third impossible thing? She’s given me Essie Jain and this lullaby for grown-ups, at least. “O, I love you most of all.”

Music’s been calling me out all day and beabadoobee’s a main culprit. “Hold me close and say you care, ‘cause I’m in love with your brown hair.”

Was introduced the other night to arguably the most sexual horse movie ever drawn (Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron) and I don’t think my life will ever be the same again.

The sad singer recs kept flowing, and I’m pretty smitten. beabadoobee is a Filipino-British artist whose recent releases are perfect night-walk material. “Is it the sound of your thoughts that always keeps you up at night?”

Traded sad, beautiful singer recs with a beautiful, sad girl today. What a Monday. Ghostly Kisses is Margaux Sauvé, whose otherworldly voice captures every kind of hurt and longing. “Even if you go, you remain a whisper in my dreams.”

Mountain Man is a young at heart folk trio based out of North Carolina. Theirs is healing music. “If I could know, baby, what you know, then I could see, baby, what you see.”

I had a very morose midweek letdown that I’ve been nursing with bourbon and this beautiful traditional folk record from Bonny Light Horseman (Anaïs Mitchell, Eric D. Johnson, and Josh Kaufman). “Hey, hey, my lovely love.”

Irish girls just do sadness best. Aoife Nessa Frances is a gorgeous singer-songwriter whose debut album conveys deep love for sad sixties pop. “I call out your name when I can’t recall a sound.”

Iceberg Ferg’s latest LP serves up some of the best acoustic guitar work you’ll hear on the streets of Vancouver. His haunting falsetto perfectly complements lyrics that are suspended somewhere between smitten hope and love-sickness. “So come on baby, put your hand in mine.”

Spent a lot of January obsessing over the sad peppy dance pop on Lola Marsh’s new album. “You faded like a pretty snowflake that I was holding in my hand.”

I’ve had Alexandra Savior’s The Archer on repeat all weekend. It captures all the moods I’m having with its balance of morose piano pop and twangy psych rock.