Ep. 9/ The Secret of Nietzsche
Caught in a Web of Existential Melodies: Nietzsche Meets my Playlist!
Hey there, cuties and beauties of the internet. So here’s the thing: I am not the biggest traveler you’ll ever meet, and even though I don’t have the strongest sense of wanderlust in me (God, I love the Germans for having a word for practically everything; anyway, I digress), there is one place that I irrevocably and incorrigibly love to go to. And that is… drum roll, please… down the most random and weirdest of rabbit holes!
I catch niche, unusable, absolutely unnecessary trivia facts as if they are Pokémon and I’m Ash. (What? I’m a late '90s kid; of course, I know Pokémon.) Once I catch these non-essential informational tidbits, away I go on a journey down deep.
You see, two roads diverged in a wood, and I took one, then noticed a tiny white wildflower. Now, somehow, I know everything there is to know about Bloodroot.
I’m sure you do your version of A Beautiful Mind through life too. Anyway, if I like something, one thing will inevitably lead to another. I will embark on some odyssey that will probably lead me to another one, and I will end up becoming the bearer of an arbitrary factoid or two that I will never use or need in my life but I will feel a false sense of accomplishment.
Speaking of rabbit holes, yesterday when I was listening to The Secret of Us by Gracie Abrams, again, (it most certainly is my current Roman Empire) it reminded me of the ever-so-famous (or infamous) problematic Prussian (present-day German) philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, especially his work The Birth of Tragedy and The Spirit of Music (Die Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste der Musik, published in 1872). No duh, there’s a lot of commonality between a 19th-century philosopher who is the granddaddy of radical critiques of traditional Western morality and religion and arguably the queen of dreamy bedroom pop whisper-core music.
Nietzsche posited that there are two dichotomous art forces. On one side, we have Apollo, the Greek god of music, poetry, and light, who represents order, logic, and individuality (think very demure, very mindful). On the other side is Dionysus, god of wine, ecstasy, and chaos—embodying passion, spontaneity, and collective emotion (think Brat).
According to Nietzsche, the ultimate artistic expression isn’t simply a representation of one or the other but exists in the dynamic fusion of Apollonian and Dionysian artistic forces. Essentially something that has elements of both order and chaos, reason and emotion allowing consumers of art (people like me and you) to confront suffering yet affirm life and joy.
Now this magical mixture of Apollonian order with Dionysian chaos can be found all through the world of art and literature. Uniquely so, I would argue, in The Secret of Us.
Consider the Dionysian aspect: the raw vulnerability and emotional intensity in songs like Risk conveying uncertainty and chaos. Risk captures the experience of intrusive thoughts through lyrics that express a deep emotional investment and a sense of vulnerability, such as "Heard the risk is drowning, but I'm gonna take it". Lyrics like this one reflect the Dionysian embrace of passionate intensity and the surrender to feelings that are beyond rational control. The lyrics through verse, chorus, and bridge convey a sense of being caught up in a whirlwind of feelings. The energy is visceral. It’s the reincarnation of Dionysian ecstasies.
Even musically, Risk leans into this. The use of syncopated rhythms in the song disruptes the listener's temporal expectations and evoking a sense of spontaneity and freedom. The song also features emotional crescendos, which mirror the Dionysian experience of emotional overflow and its release and abandon. Abrams' vocal delivery too incorporates emotional expressiveness, with variations in tone that convey vulnerability and present a soft dissolution of boundaries between the self and the music.
On the flip side, there’s the Apollonian aspect in the structured, introspective songwriting of tracks like I Love You, I’m Sorry. Lyrics like “Trust me, I know it’s always about me” reflects self-awareness and rational reflection, aligning with the Apollonian traits of clarity and order. This acknowledgment of personal faults shows a thoughtful, measured approach to understanding emotions. “That's just the way life goes” conveys acceptance of the situation and a sense of calm reason. The bridge incorporates specific, tangible elements, which helps ground the song in a rational and orderly framework. Additionally, the song's overall theme of taking responsibility and expressing regret for one's role in the challenges faced showcases a rational perspective.
This duality echoes Nietzsche’s belief that art resonates when it balances opposing forces. The album as a whole offers resolution through this balance, providing catharsis for both Gracie and her listeners. By experiencing it in all its authentic glory, we get a chance to explore ourselves, our connections, and the people around us. This kind of emotional purge transcends trends, talents, and time.
Now maybe look at these ideals in your own self. Do you feel like you have both Apollonian and Dionysian values within you that come out to play depending on the circumstances you find yourself in? Are you demure? Are you Brat? Or are you the ultimate work of art—a walking masterpiece destined for the ages?
Now, now, did anyone ask for a philosophical breakdown of The Secret of Us? No. Was this me over-intellectualizing pop culture because I can? Probably. Do I make any apologies for wasting your time? Absolutely not.
Until next time!
Xoxo
