Three songs that will change your brain chemistry by Jo Hill, Zinadelphia and Tabby Gervis
Starting strong with Big Boys Cry Too by Jo Hill, a mixture of indie, country and soul that blends perfectly together as Jo asks listeners to look deeper than their conditioned ‘authentic’ selves who never feel the ‘bad’ emotions.
We live in a society that talks openly about mental health, has systems in place that allow us to feel those ‘negative’ feelings, and has support that acknowledges that there are unseen struggles people tackle daily and that it’s okay to not be okay. However, we are still taught good and bad emotions. Good emotions are; happy, excited, grateful. Bad emotions are; anger, sadness, frustration. We are then told to never show the bad emotions, making us become emotionally stunted puppets in an emotionally rigid masquerade. Think of all the times you’ve heard ‘crying is for babies’, ‘tears are for the pillow’, or ‘I'll give you something to cry about’, or think of the times you’ve witnessed the extreme level of discomfort radiating from the person beside you as you breakdown.
It’s because we are taught to build an emotional ceiling, which not only leaves us emotionally stunted, but also means we don’t know how to deal with others when they do feel their emotions.
Jo Hill says F that. She begs listeners to “lay it out”, “let [someone] in”, giving them an “open door” to feel every emotion - good or bad. She confirms it's okay to have big, uncomfortable emotions; it’s not something to hide from or repress. She shows us that it’s okay to reach out but that it’s also okay to be the one that reaches out and is the shoulder for someone to let their emotions out too. In promotional content, Jo has said that the creation of this song was an opportunity for her to reconnect with her emotionally repressed father, giving him (and herself) a safe space to cry, to feel and to express all emotions.
The strength of this song is founded in its reminder that it’s okay for parents to feel sad, or bad, or frustrated, they can ‘shed their skin’, shed their armour, shed those emotional barriers and still be a ‘hero’, still be someone their child looks up to. It reminds parents that while they may have been taught that they can’t enjoy the indulgence of soaking in their feelings, they can and should. There’s a poignancy as we listen to her claim that ‘it’s generational to not get emotional’. Older generations haven’t had the emotional fluidity we’re afforded, and as such, family systems have, often, come to disvalue, dishonour and not accept unpleasant, hard and shadowy emotions. In contemporary society, we’ve collectively challenged this ideology, and most of us have been lucky to have our parents by our side as we do so, allowing all of us to grow emotionally, be upfront about our feelings and to shatter the ceiling that results in emotional stuntedness.
Emotions have, and are meant to have, motion, they are meant to move through the body; repressing them leads to a plethora of complications that can manifest physically, and cause mental suffering.
Jo Hill emphasises that emotions are neutral expressions from our bodies that are meant to inform us. They are neither good nor bad, they have no moral value. But more than that, this song feels like a warm hug from your best friend on a cold winter's day, when life is getting a bit much and everything feels overwhelming but that hug provides warmth, and love, and reminds you that it’s okay, things will get better, life will stop being overwhelming and you’ve got this. It’s that proud moment when you take a step back and realise you love the person you see in the mirror. It’s the free feeling you get when you finally allow yourself to release the emotions you’ve been bottling and truly feel things. It’s the moment your parent’s emotional blockage begins to break and you connect on a different level, one that takes your relationship further, strengthening it and cocooning it with love and support.
As Jo sings; “lay it out, let me in, you don’t have to be a big boy about it”.
Next is a colourful song that covers a deeper meaning by Zinadelphia, an American vocalist who blends timeless sounds with vintage-inspired visuals.
Known for her 60s-rooted aesthetic, Zinadelphia navigates the contrast of darker themes through high energy tempos, embracing the ugly truths of life. The audacious single The Magazine, also the name of her EP released in 2024, focuses on the complex topic of contemporary beauty standards.
The beauty industry is a huge industry that markets itself through creating insecurities and then offering quick solutions to ‘fix’ each ‘problem’. These standards are ever-changing, at a pace so quick it’s near impossible to keep up. And for those who don’t keep up, it’s deemed that they’ve failed. Yet despite this constant changing of what’s ‘in’ right now - maybe it’s bold eyeshadow, maybe it’s a clean aesthetic, maybe it’s filler, maybe it’s ozempic - the only consistent factor is that someone will fall victim to being the ‘out’; the thing to avoid.
We look to those that we are told we should aspire to look like, and then brutally critique ourselves in comparison, often devising a plan to change our appearance so that we can fix ourselves to look as beautiful as those who are marketed to us as the most attractive. Zinadelphia picks up on this as she vocalises the devastating intro to the chorus; “She doesn’t look like me, and I want to fix it”. This follows the previous heart-breaking line in which she highlights how we fall victim to hating our bodies despite them being “crafted for years and years”. It’s often forgotten that humans are shaped by our different genetics, diverse experiences and varying outlooks on life, even if we all started as an embryonic stem cell, and instead we just focus on what’s wrong with us.
Dr Camilla Pang, author of Explaining Humans: What Science Can Teach Us about Life, Love and Relationships, explains that stem cells are the “ultimate evolutionary wonder” and are the foundation for every human. Zinadelphia highlights that we don’t cherish this wonder or accept this unique-ness, instead we critique it, bully it and often change it. Just like the stem cell is affected by the tangible effects of human ageing, humans are affected by our surroundings and the beauty industry latches onto that.
It’s addicting, trying to fit the beauty standard, even if we kid ourselves that it’s not. We will reach for the magazines, or to our phones to see what we have to compete with and who we have to look up to. Zinadelphia skillfully voices this through the line “All hail the magazine, it's not an addiction, it’s motivation”. Think of popular media we consume that glorifies and applauds small bodies, there’s an encouragement there of self-disciplining actions in order to avoid weight gain. And it works: a study of nearly 7000 girls, aged 9-14, were twice as likely to be concerned about their weight or to be constant dieters when wanting to look like a celebrity. It’s important to state that disordered eating and eating disorders are not vanity inflicted, they are complex mental disorders, but that isn’t to say they can’t coexist with or be worsened from the impossible standards placed on us from this metropolis of an industry.
The raw emotion from Zinadelphia as she belts out about the pain, agony and hardship that comes from the ever-changing merciless expectations act as a reminder that another woman’s beauty is not the absence of your own.
Finishing with Sunday Late Shift by Tabi Gervis, this jazz filled, soul speaking, pop fun song feels like a warm hug to round things off with.
Tabi Gervis’ music feels like you're entering a magical world where everyone is in their best dressed outfits and ready to dance out all their worries and concerns.
Sunday holds a unique place in the world of music due to its symbolic meaning of rest and relaxation. In pop culture, it’s associations with spiritual reflection or emotional highs and lows has inspired countless songs across a multitude of genres. These songs often evoke feelings of nostalgia, longing or even celebration. Sunday Late Shift summons all three, existing as a song that perfectly captures the essence of the simple joys and intimate moments that make Sundays so special. Tabi Gervis weaves a tale of sensual and romantic encounters unfolding as two souls entwine in a dance of desire and longing. It’s a harmonious ode to the intimate journey of returning home to your lover as sun rays gently caress your face with a golden hand.
Sunday Late Shift explores the calmness of a Sunday in comparison to the chaotic nature of modern, weekday life. Tabi Gervis taps into the universal need for a slower, more peaceful day in which society can decompress and take a moment for themselves. Using Sunday in music represents the emotions and complexities that come with the day- a day that has a universal nature given it’s part of the weekend for most people. This gives the day a shared cultural relevance, making it a relatable subject, and so use of it in music and nature gives artists a chance to connect with listeners.
In a fast-paced, ever changing society in which we can access information, news - or almost anything - at the touch of a button, it’s important to take the time to slow down, rest and relax. Sundays being associated with relaxing, breaks, and social gatherings creates a universal relation, and Tabi Gervis has pioneered this song to make listeners feel as though they’re “walking at a normal pace” through whimsical vocals and chords that make you feel not so alone after all.