For some people, there’s an elusive tension that covers the days preceding their birthday. A subtle unease begins to infiltrate, growing with each passing day. Thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind, feelings become entangled in uncertainty, and an introspective weight settles on their shoulders. Anticipation intensifies with the ticking countdown, creating an atmosphere that is both tense and uncomfortable. Whether they love, loathe, or simply accept their birthday, it transforms into an emotional journey marked by introspection.
Perhaps it’s rooted in unspoken expectations or simply the natural progression of time. Regardless, a gentle but palpable discomfort envelopes these moments, setting the stage for an emotional journey that Mae Marie delicately explores in her latest release, “Birthday Candle Wishes.”
Released on the 1st of February, this song evolves into a melodic reflection, encapsulating the intricate emotions that accompany the approach of another year. With a melancholic touch and acoustic production, it captures the tender and uneasy nuances of this time. Mae opens the song by immediately delving into the concept of existential angst, expressing:
“I don’t know why, but I hate the feeling,
You know when you just
Remember you’re breathing,
And you can’t stop
And it won’t stop.”
To open, she centers the lyrics around the act of breathing, typically an automatic and subconscious process, skillfully crafting a metaphor for the conscious realization of one’s existence and the relentless flow of time. Despite this feeling being something personal, there’s a universal sentiment that we can all connect with. In these moments, it’s as if we become acutely hyper-aware of the passing moments, the significance of each interaction, and the weight of the expectations placed upon the day. The tiniest details seem amplified, and the atmosphere is charged with a blend of excitement and trepidation, heightening our awareness of every glance, every word, and every gesture.
Then, on that significant day, the moment quietly unfolds—one we often shy away from—when you find yourself facing the flickering flames of your birthday candle. The room is wrapped in a hush as all eyes focus on you. It’s a poignant moment, a fusion of reflection and anticipation. Blowing out the candle brings a fleeting sense of relief, a symbolic exhale, and an acknowledgment that another year has quietly slipped away. It’s a tender gesture–extinguishing the flame that signifies the bygone year, with its joys, challenges, and lessons.
The room erupts in cheers, and for a moment, you stand at the epicenter of it all. The weight on your shoulders seems to lighten, giving way to the collective celebration of those around you. It’s a shared experience, a chorus of voices extending well wishes. Yet, beneath the surface, there lingers a sense of the unknown, the unwritten chapters of the year ahead waiting to unfold. This interplay of celebration and uncertainty finds its perfect expression when Marie reaches the song’s climax, singing:
“And it’s so weird, swear time hasn’t passed
For years
And half the time
I hold back all my tears
My birthday candle wishes
Hold all my fears
And maybe I’ll feel different
When it’s next year.”
In the two minutes of this song, her lyrics unfold as if she’s poured personal reflections onto paper, akin to a private diary entry meant only for her eyes, mirroring emerging pop artists like Lizzy McAlpine and Matilda Mann. It’s quiet, introspective, and offers a peek into the emotional layers birthdays bring. Amid collective joy, for even the most celebratory souls, there’s a haunting sense that time has either lingered too long or rushed by too swiftly.
In listening, you either find solace in shared sentiments or understanding–recalling those around you who’ve always alluded to experiencing similar complexities, yet you never quite grasped. You hear it in first-person, experiencing the depth and nuance of the emotions she delicately unfolds and find a new understanding in what celebration truly entails.
take a listen to birthday candle wishes on spotify:
daybreak 