I Try

I love a nineties ballad. From her distinctive rasp to the thoughtfully placed strings and make-you-want-to-buy-a-keyboard chorus, my cup runneth over with nostalgia. And when nostalgia lays off the sad girl act, she is a giant sunbeam. But how does a breakup song with no obvious resolution manage to fill me with warmth? Through a very popular technique, actually—modulation. Bring on the key change, baby! The bridge in “I Try” is unexpected and transitions beautifully up a half step for the final run of the chorus. During this stretch, Macy interjects at almost a sing-shout, “Sick of love!” Does she resent her lover? Herself? Is she just exasperated by the situation? The keys come in heavy through the fade out. These choices keep the song interesting, self-aware, and, ultimately, transcendent.

Key changes were extremely popular for the latter half of the 20th century before largely dying out. Some find them cheesy and better off as a relic of the past. (A great example is “Break My Stride” by Matthew Wilder.) I believe this one works so well because it is rhythmically driven. She carries us on the rising tide of her voice (“I keep my cool but I’m fiendin’”) and pounds out a scale that sails into the chorus. The music video drives the point home. She takes the subway, bouquet in hand, for a blissful reunion with a lover. It is almost painfully cinematic, running through a tunnel of trees toward an expectant embrace. It ends with her alone on the edge of a bed, having imagined it all. But her conviction, if only for a brief daydream, that things would turn out differently this time? What a high.

Listen to the song on its own. Then watch the music video, and rejoin your inner sad girl at the end. If you’re feeling nerdy, check out the Switched on Pop episode on key changes too.