TECHNOCHOLY
TL;DR
“Technocholy” is electronic music with a hint of sadness.
It’s a song about questioning everything, falling apart, deciding maybe you don’t want to disappear after all, and finding some strange comfort in simply being where you are.
Sometimes the answer isn’t profound.
Sometimes you just stay home.
Hallelujah.
Where the title came from
I like my electronic music with a hint of sadness.
That’s really where Technocholy came from.
Techno + melancholy = Technocholy.
Not necessarily “techno” in the strict genre sense. I’m talking about electronic music that can move, pulse, and make you want to dance while still carrying something heavier underneath it.
That contrast has always interested me.
I don’t necessarily want sad music to sound sad.
Sometimes I want the synths going, the beat moving, and something underneath all of it quietly asking:
Am I okay?
That’s Technocholy.
“I think I’ll die alone”
The song starts with a declaration:
I think I’ll die alone
And then immediately questions it:
But what will you say when I’m gone?
That became the structure of the song.
Every time I think I know something, another question shows up.
I’ll say the quiet part out loud
But what if what I say is wrong?
I thought I had it all
But what if all I had was done?
Am I done?
There’s something very human about convincing yourself that you’ve figured everything out and then immediately dismantling your own argument.
The narrator isn't reliable because the narrator doesn't even trust himself.
Looking up while everything falls
One of the central images in the song is:
I’ll look up to the sky
But can I see when it falls?
I like the contradiction in that.
We look up when we want hope. We look up when we want answers. We look up when we’re searching for something bigger than ourselves.
But what happens when the thing you’re looking toward is falling too?
The next thought gets much smaller and much more personal:
Can I just fall apart
Here in your arms?
Maybe I don't need to understand the sky.
Maybe I just need somewhere safe to fall apart.
Maybe I’ll just stay home
Then the song takes a turn that makes me laugh:
I don’t think I wanna go
Might as well just stay at home?
After all the existential questions, that’s the solution?
Stay home?
Apparently.
Because later:
I forgot to die alone
I think it’s cuz I stayed home?
That might be my favorite part of the song.
It's intentionally a little absurd.
The opening treats dying alone like some predetermined ending. By the time we get here, I apparently got distracted and forgot to do it.
Maybe life doesn't always give you a grand revelation.
Maybe you just keep living long enough to realize that the ending you were so certain about never happened.
Hallelujah
Hallelujah appears throughout the second half of the song, but I don't think of it as explicitly religious.
It's closer to relief.
Or acceptance.
Or maybe even disbelief.
I forgot to die alone.
Hallelujah.
I’m still here.
Hallelujah.
Finally, I’m right where I need to be.
Oh, Hallelujah.
There isn't some enormous victory at the end of the song. The questions don't magically disappear.
In fact, the song goes right back to them:
I’ll look up to the sky
But can I see when it falls?
And:
Can I just fall apart
Here in your arms?
The difference is that by the end, “in your arms” doesn't feel quite as much like a question anymore.
Maybe falling apart isn't the same thing as being lost.
Maybe being exactly where you need to be doesn't mean having everything figured out.
What Technocholy means to me
I started with the word because I thought it was a funny way to describe the kind of electronic music I like.
But it ended up describing this song better than I expected.
Movement with melancholy.
Sadness without surrender.
Dancing while questioning everything.
There’s darkness in the song, but I don't think it's a dark song.
It’s about reaching the point where you realize:
I don’t think I wanna go.
And somehow, against all the certainty you had at the beginning, you're still here.
Right where you need to be.
Hallelujah.
