Finally, An Album For Friendship Heartbreak
100 New Albums in 2022 Challenge, 1/100

“can’t stick to that / can’t fade us to black / so I’m coming back/ cause it hurts / like the end of the world” — Coming Back (feat. SZA)
Hello album cover
I opened Spotify that first day of January with plans to listen to precisely what I can’t remember. My intentions were sidelined by an oddly bright, grotesque image of a man I wasn’t sure was alive — his eyes were open, but sections of his body were cut away in curves. The cuts were fresh-looking, but no blood spilled. It was a sunny day.
His soft blue eyes stared out from the album cover.
The album’s title, Friends That Break Your Heart, spoke to me instantly; it hooked into me and tugged. I knew exactly where his missing body parts were and why his blood was stunned inside his veins.
Sometimes (often), these relationships intersect, but a close friend and a lover take slightly different chunks out of you when they leave. The pain is almost the same, but that slight difference weighs a ton. Music understands nuance better than anyone, but I could not find a single song holding that particular weight. No soundtrack to help me find my way back to my whole self. So there I was, struggling with heartbreak over a friend, all that pain trapped with nowhere to go.
Pressing Play
I pressed play on Friends That Break Your Heart, and there it was. James Blake’s voice, unveiling and holding up my wounds, giving them names. The whole album is a well-written, thoughtfully produced flooding device. Here’s your moment, it says, to expose all things submerged. All the self-sabotaging ways you still haven’t let go.
I can’t believe I’m still walking around a believer
I should’ve lost it, I should’ve lost it, by now
And I can’t believe I’m still making
Excuses for your crimes
I’ve truly lost it, I’ve truly lost it
This time
— “Famous Last Words”
This is James Blake’s fifth studio album, and according to critics, a deviation from his usual sound, and his usually sparse lyrics. This surprised me. He sounds comfortable and confident. Even when things get a bit risky. He utilizes a shrill and haunting falsetto at will. Wields his voice deep and husky with bravado. Perhaps there’s no real risk when you know the edge so well.
And all in all in love is fair (but it’s not fair) I’ve haunted many photographs in the background and the fore […] And I’ve pushed myself to be vulnerable and then slept with one eye wide all that pain, and in the end, nothing gained In the end, it was friends It was friends that broke my heart
— “Friends That Break Your Heart”
Unexpressed grief becomes wearisome, so we shrink it to fit our regularly scheduled lives to get on with living. Mine expanded beyond my body as the album continued to play. In a sense, I was finally bleeding, and I was not okay, and somebody else was definitely to blame. Rarely the path to absolute truth, blame is. Still, it contains something extraordinary— an unedited version of the heart’s most protected pain.
We both swam out to sea
you lost me willingly
[…]
I was your champion
I did everything to help you stay
— Life Is Not The Same
Friends That Break Your Heart builds upon itself, stacking one loss and betrayal and pseudo self-actualization upon another until—and I believe all healing takes a version of this journey — despair, bad negotiations, and shame-filled truths have all said their piece. And then, finally having been heard and seen, they fade to black.






