Lucky

One of my favorite bands, Nada Surf, released a new record about two weeks ago. When it’s one of my favorite bands, I usually find out about the record release date months in advance, and count down the days leading up to it. There are few bands whose records I must buy immediately, and the release date is kind of like a miniature version of Christmas from when I was 9. The anticipation is an indescribable twist of wonderful and agonizing; I know good things are on the way, but the day before feels like the longest day of my life.

This time started out no differently than my countdown to Wilco’s “Sky Blue Sky,” or the posthumous release of Elliott Smith’s “From A Basement On The Hill.” After weeks of counting down, though, I simply lost track of the whole thing. I actually forgot that they were working on a new record. I must admit, I probably didn’t think about Nada Surf at all over the few weeks leading up to the new album’s release. It wasn’t until my brother reminded me that I realized it. All at once, the excitement and anticipation came rushing back to me.

The record is titled “Lucky,” which at first seemed somewhat thoughtless and benign, as far as record titles go. The concept of “luckiness” seems to me cliché and overused (the band admits right in the liner notes that 31 other known records share this title), not that it mattered much to me. Album titles are just that, and don’t really have any bearing on how much I enjoy the music– right?

Well, usually. Luckily, the record came with a digital booklet, which I quickly read cover to cover (If there’s anything OCD about me, that’s it). To my surprise, the title turned out to be quite the opposite of thoughtless and benign. Knowing what I know about the band’s lead singer and guitarist, Matthew Caws, I shouldn’t have been surprised at all. I’ve been reading his blog on nadasurf.com ever since the first time I saw the band live, several years ago. Not only is Nada Surf one of the great underrated pop/rock bands of our generation, but Matthew Caws is one of the great underrated bloggers. The guy has insight and good sense dripping from his fingertips.

The liner notes begin: From a zillion angles we are lucky, we should remember that we are, we need to be reminded that we are. If we forget, we have to be reminded again. He proceeds to describe the process of choosing a name for this record– how he, at first, did not like the title at all. To me it’s just kinda bland and common, not at all unique … it isn’t going to kill me if it’s called lucky, but it doesn’t turn me on. He goes onto explain that the title grew on him. He realized how apt the title actually is, and that worrying about always being clever is restrictive. And if I can go through what I’ve been through and come out the other end still feeling grateful, isn’t that something? That’s what the record’s about as much as anything else. I want to confirm it, celebrate it and remind myself of that capacity for years to come.

Also contained in the liner notes are the words of fans from around the world– apparently responses to the question, “What does lucky mean to you?” One entry jumped out at me. What I’m most thankful for is wishing my dad another birthday this year. In January, his lower aorta ruptured and he almost died. It really didn’t hit me until a few weeks ago for his birthday. I was so thankful to be able to give him a birthday card, a cold beer and a big hug. That’s what I’m really thankful for.

Usually when people talk about clichés, their faces scrunch up, and if you couldn’t hear the words it would appear they were describing an incessant itch. Originality is far more often praised and sought after. Somehow, the idea has grown that being categorized or widely understood is the antithesis of success. To me, at least in this age in which I’ve grown up, it seems the quest for originality can easily become its arch-enemy– the bland, been-there-done-that, who-doesn’t-love-the-Beatles? cliché. After all, when everyone’s a punk, what’s a punk? As times change and paradigms come and go, the unique become the common, and vice versa.

Maybe the record’s title seems cliché, and maybe the blessings people list in the liner notes do as well. But like the giant icebergs slowly melting into the sea, optimism has seemingly fallen by the wayside in recent past, giving way to the perpetual bleakness and unrest that haunt our lives, even if not in our own homes and back yards. Perhaps these days, amidst the scandals and the wars and the opposition to wars and the celebrity breakdowns and the school shootings and the finger-pointing and speculation about what causes school shootings and the foreclosures and the deportations and the hatred and the prejudice and the mistrust and the inequality… making a simple, positive statement actually is a fresh idea.

I think we’re lucky that even though we live in a world that is full of tragedy, hunger, war, pollution, crime, corruption, corporate indifference, greed, and every other awful thing you can imagine … there are still thoughtful, passionate people around that spend their time enjoying and reminding the people around them of all the equally wonderful things we have– like Tivo (kidding).

What it comes down to is perspective. Each one of us has probably gone through some completely crushing and demoralizing sadness or loss in the course of a lifetime– but these events do not define us. It’s the way we react to these events and how we interpret them that defines us. To quote a song from Nada Surf’s last record, “The Weight Is A Gift”– To make a mountain of your life is just a choice.

Sometimes we forget the so-called “little things” in life. Work, bills, arguments, worries all get in the way, and we lose sight of our blessings. We forget to count down to our miniature Christmases. If you’re lucky enough, though… someone will be there to remind you.