You are not the same person you once were, but still a collection of every version of yourself simultaneously. Some parts you cherish; others you wish you could forget. Yet each version contributed to what you’ve become. This cycle will go on indefinitely, and eventually, you’ll look back on your current self with some criticism. But I suppose that’s just part of life.
On Valentine’s Day, The Lumineers released Automatic, blessing us with some heartbreaking tracks about change, growth and nostalgia, which make me hate and love my 16-year-old self at the same time.
A standout track to me was “Asshole,” where Wesley Schultz delivers his standard, gut-wrenching vocals. The Lumineers have always excelled at storytelling, and “Asshole” is a striking example of their ability to blend self-reflection with raw emotion. This song unpacks the weight of past relationships and the difficulty of seeing ourselves clearly in the moment.
“And I know what you said to me was wrong/
But kindness came and bit my tongue/
I must admit, the taste of it is keepin’ me awake”
This first verse captures the bittersweet nature of personal growth, highlighting the way our past experiences can shape our reactions. It’s that all-too-familiar feeling of staring at the ceiling before you fall asleep, wishing you had found the right words for a conversation in the moment.
The Lumineers prove that grand production isn’t necessary to create something profoundly intimate. Staying true to their signature sound, the production on this track is minimal yet deeply evocative, carrying a sense of longing. The raw piano notes lay a delicate foundation while emphasizing the subtle contradiction between the harmonies and instrumentation. This contrast reaches its peak in the chorus where layered vocals swell, intensifying the song’s emotional weight.
“First we ever met/
You thought I was an asshole/
Probably correct/
But I can see your shadow”
They cut straight to the heart of human imperfection here. When the narrator admits to being seen as an “asshole” upon first meeting, it’s a powerful moment of honesty — showing a version of themselves they’ve likely outgrown but still carry. Yet “I can see your shadow” suggests that we are all walking through life carrying our mistakes and insecurities. The true beauty lies in the understanding that even the versions of ourselves we struggle to accept contribute to our growth. It’s a reminder to reflect on how our flaws and challenges ultimately shape us, pushing us to embrace the way we view ourselves and the people we love.
