Maggie Rogers and the Joy of Living

Music, at its core, is an experiment to make us feel things; to make us feel alive. Maggie Rogers’ discography has been a defining example of that for me.

Although Rogers has been on my Spotify rotation for a few years now, each track still feels like a fresh discovery. 

Lately, I have been especially attached to her 2022 album Surrender.

This record stands out from Rogers’ work both before and after (2019’s Heard It In A Past Life and 2024’s Don’t Forget Me), departing from her indie-chill pop tendencies in favor of rock-inspired, anthemic production.

Surrender came out the summer before my freshman year of college, which feels like a lifetime ago, as I am now entering my senior year. I had become quickly enraptured by the sonic and lyrical atmosphere of the album, full of life and excitement. Nowadays, in car rides, I make sure to put the volume on blast to soak it in, singing along to the familiar melodies, and getting energized at the epic choruses.

You know what they say, some music just comes out at the perfect time. And the summer before my freshman year of college was the perfect time.

Rogers’ promotional cycle and marketing for Surrender hinged around the words “feral joy”.  Upon listening to her discography, I have witnessed how well she builds a collection of songs around a single message: to live one’s life, messiness and all, and have a hell of a time doing it.

Surrender portrays that messiness very well.

College is an exciting, vulnerable and explorative time for all. It is both surreal and tragic that the connections we make here are formed only over a matter of 4 years (or less). 

This summer going into senior year has been an existential one for me –  I have experienced self-doubt, as well as wondering what the future could look like, and a fear of losing bonds with the people I hold close. Perhaps this caring for people is so strong that it compels me to dread the fact of losing them. To quote Winnie the Pooh, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard”. 

To this end, I have experienced “feral joy” in many contexts: by finding those magical friendships of mutual understanding of humor and compassion, by dancing the night away, or simply just being with one another. Yes, the dancing part is the most “feral”, but to me, “feral” could also mean the joy that is unbridled, impossible to ignore.

In interviews with various news outlets, Rogers has aimed to redefine the word “surrender”, which typically has negative connotations of submission and giving up. The artist believes that ‘surrender’ is merely not giving up, but rather giving in to those urges, to that joy and happiness that we often repress. Much of her discography includes that “giving in”, the inescapable force guiding us to the great unknown. This is prominent in Rogers’ 2019 Saturday Night Live performance of her song “Fallingwater”. Rogers lets herself be transformed by the music, dancing freely. This could be incredibly awkward for some, but not for her. Her energy is magnetic, epitomizing the saying “dance like no one’s watching”. When the song concludes, Rogers appears to be in a trance that stops mere seconds after the crowd applauds. It’s a fantastic performance and viewing experience right from the commanding first note.

The songwriter has described music as a spiritual experience, evident in her live performances and in her studio albums. When someone listens to music that they love, that speaks to them, it feels as if the whole world goes away, even just for a moment. Perplexing thoughts can bubble from the surface, and the music is a vehicle to process them. It is a truly magical feeling, something I have found with her music. And that is where Surrender comes in.

Within the album of Surrender itself, the track “Anywhere With You” sticks out. The booming production gives off an effervescent atmosphere, Rogers’ vocal performance growing more and more desperate as she repeats the line “I’d go anywhere with you”. The bridge of the song includes her asking a series of questions “Would you tell me if I ever started holding you back?/Would you talk me off the guard rail of my panic attack?”. These displays of vulnerability and a forceful need for connection make “Anywhere With You” a powerful listen. The line that always gets me is “But all I've ever wanted is to make something f***ing last”.

Isn’t that all we can ask for? Life’s benefit and cost is making something impactful, creating lasting connections with others, something for us to leave behind, something to give ourselves meaning. 

Previous track “Shatter” contains a heightened, anxious take with loud energy and loud fears. Rogers just wants to feel something, even suggesting to “break a glass just to watch it shatter”. She is eyeing the thrill of the experience, something she had replaced with anger after her heroes (David Bowie and others) died. This is furthered by “Want Want” which cites the lyrics “Might die if you can't live just to taste it”.

Rogers departs from her sonically thrilling production in the slower-tempo tracks “Begging For Rain" and “I’ve Got A Friend”, which center around the anxiety and preciousness of human connection. “Begging For Rain” deals with the need for change and the semblance that what you’re going through is right, even if it brings friction.“I feel it all and I can’t stop it,” Rogers sings in an urgent pre-chorus.

These last few months have been a process of feeling everything: loss, hope, fear, security, and unpredictability- which I know will only continue in these coming months and school year. Like humid summer days, when you can only wait for the storm and the rain to come, there is a process of growth and reconciliation that one does not know the length of. I don’t know if when I graduate, it will feel like the culmination of my growth so far, or if it is rather a transitional period. Yet, I hope there is an element of payoff, that everything I have done and have experienced has been worth it. (That hope is very strong :) ).

Continuing on the hopes of payoff and meaning, “I’ve Got A Friend” deals with the complexity of friendships, people being there in moments of need, and just the comforting fact of having a friend. Here, Rogers delves into a different type of joy, one that coincides with fears of ending. I read somewhere that we are made up of the people we love, remembering their details, holding on to what they gave us. The hope is that our friends will be “there in the end/ when we’re old and we’re dead”. Rogers ends each chorus with the brief statement of “and she’s got a friend too”- accepting one’s importance in the friendship, playing the same role of integral support. With that comes a reciprocity- perhaps we mean more to our friends when we realize!

The album’s catharsis ends with “Different Kind of World”, which begins as a slow guitar-driven song. However, that final minute spikes into something grand, throwing us back into the grungy excitement of this album. Unlike the previous sonic highs, the climax of “Different Kind of World” stands as lyricless, a concluding moment of pure drum-booming ecstasy.

Surrender, and other songs in Rogers’ catalog, have become a soundtrack for the college experience and all that will come in this big, beautiful, and scary transition into…life. Rogers succeeds in evoking the human need to experience, to live life to the fullest, whether through experiences or relationships.

2019 standalone single “Love You For A Long Time” and 2016 track “Dog Years” further demonstrate the preciousness of life and all that it offers. With the latter, Rogers released an acoustic version in 2021 featuring musicians Sam Gendel and Sam Wilkes  - perhaps one of the most beautiful songs I have ever listened to. Especially in the acoustic version, the listener can track Rogers’ emotional performance, backed by only acoustic piano, guitar, and saxophone. The chorus includes the lines “I feel it in my body, know it in my mind/ Oh, I am going to love you for a long time”. That sense of certainty and intuition is a powerful feeling. She feels that love, she knows it’s there, and she knows it's going to last. “Dog Years” has a similar sentiment with “we will be alright in the afterlife”- a guaranteed feeling.

Looking back on Rogers’ music, I can’t help but feel like that is the thesis statement for this upcoming chapter of mine. To live means to truly live and hold the connections close, because those are what truly matter. The joyous moments where I’m really existing are a mosaic of everything I strive to possess.

I appreciate Surrender for its topical relevance over time, and the fact that it coincided with my journey was unexpected. Rogers’ dual narrative of grandeur and vulnerability best echoes my thoughts as I bridge towards my final year at Kenyon. There is such a joy in living that cannot be denied and cannot be taken for granted. 

And if that joy is feral, then I know I'm living my life right.