Diving In: Best I Ever Had

I once announced on Twitter how I feel about the soulful white boy singers of this generation. James Morrison and Gavin DeGraw pretty much have that category locked up, if you ask me. I wasn't familiar with DeGraw back in his "Chariot" or "I Don't Wanna Be" days, and by the time "Not Over You" hit the airwaves I thought he was the guy married to Gwen Stefani. It's taken awhile for me to recognize Gavin DeGraw in his own right as a talented artist, and I almost haven't looked back since I let him into the inner circle of what I consider to be easy listening, save for one event during summer of 2013.

"Best I Ever Had" threw me off after my first listen, and if you've heard it, you might know what I'm talking about. The song is all over the place. There's so much going on. It's easily the most up-tempo song of DeGraw's career (or anyone's career) and the distracted lyrics right off the bat make for immediate confusion. 

I decided I wanted to write it off as a bad song, but I couldn't stop listening to it. Once a week became twice a week, twice a week became a couple times a day. I found myself not wanting to like it, but something kept pulling me back to this surprisingly emotionally provocative song. It's more interesting and different from most pieces on Top 40 radio, and that's what sets it apart, whether one feels that it's in a good or bad way.

The imagery in the song is what struck a chord with me, and no, I will not apologize for the musically-induced pun. You're my neon gypsy, my desert rain immediately takes me to late nights at Coachella in hot and sticky Indio, California, at silent discos and outdoor concerts and those magical unexpected moments of extreme weather that just adds to the enchanting bond between thousands of strangers over one piece of music; a stunning and compelling visual. What I would argue as the most powerful phrase in the song, directly in the middle, reads I caught my reflection, I dropped the call, I've been medicating with ciagrettes and alcohol; I got vertigo, I can’t see straight, I've got obligations though I’m usually late just throws the image and feeling of the singer's pain and heartache into the ears of the listener. It describes a melancholy symptomatic of depression, which doesn't come as a surprise when dealing with a breakup as agonizing as the song describes. I think I dropped my wallet in Santa Fe, lost the only picture I had of you that day takes you right to the place of realization that whatever was there is gone forever. Something you're never going to get back is a thought that may never leave you for the rest of the life you have left.

Besides the incredible and descriptive imagery found in the piece, it's hard to imagine anyone but DeGraw performing it. The power and depth in one of my favorite voices in music of today blends beautifully with the flowering intensity that grows as the song progresses. The complexity of the tempo and mix of instruments (guitar, upright bass, horns) complicates the emotions of the listener and conveys the feeling of confusion and loss so easily palpable in the song. After my first listen-through, if this was my future with Gavin DeGraw's music, I was on the border of leaving this thing I had for his sound. I was confused. But the longer I listened to it, the more I realized this was more than just a loud and shocking tune. I delved into the multiple layers of everything it had to offer. It made me feel too much (something I always love and appreciate) to cast it off as something I could live without. This thing will be with me for the rest of my life...something I never want to give up.