200. Song No. 3,020: “The Engine Driver,” The Decemberists
Picaresque, 2005

Sure, it’s been absolutely delightful finding new reasons to love old favorites, but nothing feels as good as when songs that I have played for miles and that I know inside and out and that have lived through so many different chapters with me pop up in this project. It has been a treat finally hearing and appreciating songs I’ve spent years only superficially listening to and liked well enough but never really had their chance to shine. But getting lost in my favorite songs when it’s their turn is a straight-up warm and welcoming return home.

And “Engine Driver,” one of my all-time favorite songs by one of my favorite bands, easily ranks among my absolute favorite three tunes. There are so many songs I love but this is one I feel in the core of my soul, where it’s practically a personal rejection when people I love don’t love this song like I do.

For years, I have wanted to put “And I’ve written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones” somewhere on my body, but it seems counterintuitive to memorialize on your skin what you’ve spent so long quietly purging from your heart. So I’ve settled for playing this song over and over and over again every time I remember how it makes me feel understood more than any other song that has ever been raised to the air, pouring anything that still needs to get out into some of the most heartfelt, rawly confessional lyrics I’ve ever sung along to.