i have to navigate how to talk about this song without (1) oversharing and (2) trauma-dumping. this song struck me like lighting and every time i listen to it electricity pulsates through my body simultaneously stinging and invigorating me. EM OII captures the essence of the need to run away from the pain and suffering of the physical world. this song desperately begs for a breath of fresh air, an exhale of relief, the weightlessness of contentment.

while written about an ex, i argue this song ventures far beyond the confines of a jaded break up song. misanthropical and derisive, the lyrics do not look toward a distant future where time supposedly heals all wounds but rather a quick escape for when everything is too unbearable. i love the lines "Xóa hết, vứt hết, dẹp hết, bỏ hết mọi thứ bám hơi em. Anh biết, em biết, anh biết là ta chẳng qua được tuần này," or erase all, throw away all, put aside all, discard all that holds you down. i know, you know, i know that we will not make is passed this week." when something is so debilitating, mentally and physically, you just want to strip yourself of your physical body and release your soul to sweet weightlessness. he continues, Chạy đi, chạy đi, chạy đi, chạy đi, chạy đến cuối trời. Chạy cho thật xa để em quên mất đường về nhà, or "run run run run run to the end of the earth. run until you forget your way home." you really have to listen to the song and the rasp in his voice during this litany of the phrase the repetition of the same phrase. by doing so he mimics the way it can feel as if life is drowning you, suffocating you, everything toppling down at once not giving you room to breath so much so you want to run and keep running until you've forgotten your way home.

i wonder if i could run far far away, where would i run to.

afterword

i hope this post encourages you check out this song. if not, i hope this post offers you some insight into the diverse musical landscape in viet nam. 

as always, thank you for reading. i greatly appreciate your time and attention. 

with warmth,

Ngọt is a four-member pop rock from viet nam formed in 2013. they continue to push the boundaries of viet nam's musical landscape with their unique sound and music. their songs are rich in nostalgia that cause listeners (me) to melancholically yearn for a distant past; like a sweet dream you abruptly wake up from, forgetting exactly what happened but remembering the feelings that did happen. Ngọt captures this exact feeling well in their music.

Mấy Khi (2022)

this is the song that got me into Ngọt. Mấy Khi, or "once in a while," (note: this phrase is difficult to translate so i am giving you the gist of what it means) is a song that celebrates the feeling of liberation and freedom, unrestricted by the stresses from life. in the true ethos of punk music, this song resists and opposes oppressive institutions. the group disparages the value of money, by first indicting the debilitating stress of not ever having enough money and the stress of debt in this late-capitalist world and second, mourning the little time we have with the people we love in life.

"mình không mấy khi gần nhau lâu" (i won't directly translate this line into english as i believe doing so would be negligent of the beauty of this line) this line essentially asks "when is the next time we will be together?" i love that this song both grapples with the suffering under a capitalist world yet also illuminates viable ways of living: to love, to cherish, to be free. and thus, my love for this group began.

LẦN CUỐI (2019)

i would be deeply remiss, even disrespectful, to not honor this song with its own section. if i had a dollar for every time i listened to this song and dropped to my knees, eyes wet, clutching my heart ululating the second chorus, i would have enough money to rent out the largest music stadium in asia for a private concert. i can only dream of experiencing this song reverberate across a stadium both lacerating the walls and healing it with its painfully sweet lyrics. LẦN CUỐI, or "LAST TIME," is a requiem for a freshly ended relationship; two people resigned to a failed relationship scratched with unforgettable pain yet sutured together by moments of deep love and care. lần cuối is not only a song but a painting.

my knees go weak when the soft lines "cay đắng nhưng không đau," or "bitter but it does not hurt" echo in my ear. translation does not capture the resignation, the moment of reluctant acceptance of letting go, of release. it is about holding memories of love and pain close to our hearts to simultaneously remember and to let go.

this song embodies the genuine spirit of "i am sorry."

afterword

i hope this post encourages you check out Ngọt. if not, i hope this post offers you some insight into the diverse musical landscape in viet nam.

as always, thank you for reading. i greatly appreciate your time and attention. 

with warmth,

phim