"I Promise Not To Quit" - Songs: Ohia
"I will work to make it work"
Originally published February 27, 2020
Songs: Ohia, and Jason Molina's works in general (RIP) feel so solemn and pained, but there's also an unrivaled hope to them that shines through the darkness found in other tracks like "The Lioness" and "Farewell Transmission," other favorites of mine, that I used to end episodes of my radio show, Subverse, with.
To dovetail, “Subverse” is apparently now also the name of an upcoming Space-Erotica video game, so I guess it’s good that me and Natalie ended the show when we did. (Also, hi Natalie if you’re reading this).
"I Promise Not to Quit" is poignant for a multitude of reasons. Chiefly, Molina was an amazing songwriter, and knew just how to elicit raw, uncomfortable emotion from the simplest of compositions. In addition this song has lit the way for me with its strange, muted light countless times. It is, in essence, a perfect 3 A.M. song.
Calling "I Promise Not to Quit"haunting might be a cop-out, but it's what I feel. This song, like the previously mentioned ones from this project, have always lingered in my mind. Simple, light guitar work and drums highlight Molina's decidedly unique vocals, tinged with pain but lightly toned. These songs have always taken space on sad playlists and the like, but I truly don't know if the message of most of them are actually sad. This isn't Mount Eerie (a project I refer to primarily because of subject matter and tone) this one has a hopefulness that comes from someone who uses darkness as a setting, rather than a character, like you see in songs from Mount Eerie like "Ravens" and "Real Death."
Even the most unattainable can seem possible if you put enough into it. I'm not a big believer in defined paths for people, preferring the idea that humankind, in general, can choose their own destiny and their own outcomes. Because of this, I've always felt that I owe it to myself and those who have helped me get to this point to continue. I have to push, I have to try, and I have to self motivate.
"I will work to make it work," Molina sings into the darkness, a darkness of what, I'm quite unsure specifically. I know what that darkness looks like to me, though. It's that existential exhaustion, a melancholic lull that stops things from getting done and saps the power from your muscles.
It's not weak to stop for a second, I must tell that darkness. It's not weak to reassess, or to ask for something. Sometimes it's often unhealthy to try and push too hard, to push too much.
So, to you, if you're pushing too hard. If you're attempting too hard to make it work, step back. Think about it. Is it your time to? Is it your responsibility to? Who can help?
Sadly the answers to these things aren't clear, nor do they always present themselves in a timely manner. But what we can do, collectively, is keep trying like our narrator to make it work in a way that works and correct his path by doing that while also being sustainable.
I do promise not to quit, Jason, but on my terms.
Thanks for reading about tonight's song. Check out the full playlist here, and stay tuned each night as I add more and explain my thought process. Feel free to discuss your own thoughts on the song either here or on social media where you can yell at me, free of cost, as much as you'd like.
Today, listen to something new. I dare you.
Producer Britton