Son of Wino; The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

I occasionally look back on my own life as my own biopic film; for every notable moment I've ever lived, there's always a song for that point in time, and a lasting memory attached. There was the song that was playing during my first kiss (Sommerset; Streets don't Close); the song that brought my first real Girlfriend and I together (Quindon Tarver; Everyone's Free [to wear sunscreen]); the song playing as I alcoholically cleansed my insides into a toilet at a party one random time (30 Seconds to Mars; From Yesterday); or the song that made me quit a job where it felt like my co-workers were family (Unwritten Law; Harmonic). Some tracks bring fond memories, others not so. Some moments linked by the lyrical content, others just merely songs playing at the time. Some songs remind me of people. Others remind me of places. All up, there are hundreds of tracks that make up my official movie soundtrack.

But there is one song linking to a moment that remains the most poignant in my life.

Flash back about six years ago, to around the time I started this blog. Spotify was the new thing in music streaming, and I had a bit of a playlist running as I sorted through the physical remnants of my life. Three days prior, my then partner of eight years had walked out the door, and left me with the flat, a fridge and outstanding bills. The house was almost empty. So was I.
As I sifted through personal belongings dumped on the floor and love letters set to be burned, Strung Out's seminal track Matchbook, off their 1999 album "Twisted by Design" opened with its familiar four chords. The timing could not have been more perfect.
Jason Cruz opens up with his lyrics:

"I can see it in your eyes, I can hear it in your voice. The signs are obvious that all we had has run it's course"

At that point, never had an existing piece of songwriting directly relate to my own life as it had at that moment. It truly summed up the end of that relationship.
Through the chorus and on to second verse:

"Now I'm sorry I can never really say the things going on inside my head"

 It was true. I kept my emotions to myself, a trait that still frustrates people to this day. My ability not too convey feelings definitely played a part in my new-found singledom.

"Don't look back in anger, it's just a memory"

Exactly the point I was trying to make with myself. Exactly the point I was trying to tell the world and my friends - many of whom did not see eye to eye with her - despite the mess I'd become.

"It's easy to forget your face and it's easy to survive in this place without you. Without you... Don't think about nothing, I might never be alright."

 Denial. Uncertainty. The things that run through your head when you face self-dependency after years of partnership. The scars left behind. Never knowing how you will go on.
The song concludes:

"Well I've got my friends, I've got my pen, I've a million distractions to keep me warm, and all I know is that I'll be alright"

After some time, I was eventually alright. I had plenty of hours of overtime to keep me distracted, yet rectify my increased financial burden. I got through it alright.

Despite the memories attached to the song, it'd be easy to assume Matchbook as a song I'd dislike, but that is notmost the case. It remains one of my favourites from the entire Strung Out back catalog. And today, serves as a poignant reminder of what happens when a relationship ends. But above all, is just a great song.

"I'll be alright"