The Saddest Song

Would You Be Impressed?

When I was in middle school, I listened to a near-exclusive rotation of the first two Linkin Park albums, The Eminem Show, and Demon Days by Gorillaz. Then High School came and went and I got... really into post-hardcore. Today, a glance at my Spotify history would reveal that listening to "that angry screaming music" was indeed, "not a phase, Mom."

But no band has had as much staying power on me than Streetlight Manifesto.

Perhaps I was doomed to love this band-- I did marching band all throughout high school and college and found them at a time when I was frantically seeking out all of the punk that this skapunk ensemble out of Jersey had to offer. Nearly all of their songs checked my "aggressive, nihilist, kinetic sound" boxes but also did so with a dizzying level of technical skill. As a consequence, it's been the musical crux of the majority of my friendships growing up.

Eventually, I found myself at enough of their shows that things became second-nature. I developed a good understanding of when the pit would be high or low energy, when folks would start clapping along, or all of the ways their live renditions were different from their albums. I genuinely don't know how many times I've seen them, but Streetlight coming to town has always been an event steeped in the familiar and shared with the people important in my life.

So imagine my surprise when my group catches our umpteenth show together and we hear them play a song for the first time live. And a pretty old one, at that. Moreover, a real bummer of a song that you almost don't want to dance to.

Make no mistake, it's an undeniably beautiful tune-- and with enough punchy hornline to get everyone moving-- but after the first 20 seconds of As the Footsteps Die Out Forever, Tomas launches into an emotional narrative about a son learning that his mother is terminally ill.

Its first verse reads:

She was diagnosed on a Friday
The kids were almost home
The kids were on their way back home from school
Lying face down in the gutter
Of unaccomplished dreams
And broken memories of things to come
"Sorry ma'am, I really am. I had to break the news
I had to make the phone call to tell you that you're due
You know where, I'll tell you when
And I suggest that you start living these next three weeks
The best way that you can."

and stays as heavy and lovingly-raw throughout. Woof.

I wasn't the only one surprised it made the setlist. A friend I'd seen them with a good number of times, now living in Baltimore, saw them earlier in their tour and felt it was noteworthy enough to snag a recording.

In [2]:

Come to think of it, I couldn't remember if I had, either. Which obviously made it a prime candidate for some digging.

But before we could answer "How much of a B-Side was this song?" we'd need some data.

That'll Be the Day(s of Various Shows)

For starters, I had a stroke of blind luck doing a simple Google search on "Streetlight Manifesto setlist."

Doing so dropped me at a cool little site of crowdsourced lists of the tracks pulled out at each show. Maybe this would be easier to answer than I'd thought.

I had a fun afternoon exercising old webscraping muscles with requests and BeautifulSoup (GitHub links at the bottom). Essentially, I found that there were basically two different kinds of pages that I needed to be able to parse:

  • The actual show-level pages with the track listing for a given date (e.g. this)
  • The top-level "dates of shows" pages had URLs like I'd just make a simple loop adding in page numbers at the end and find the links to the show-level pages outlined above.

After I'd gotten it up and running, I could get raw data on years' worth of shows. Then packaging it into something pandas/tabular allowed me to spot-check and find interesting dates-- like the time they covered a Suicide Machines tune in 2004, or when they straight-up had to cancel a show because they almost literally brought the house down.

(Data) Hell

Predictably, as anyone with experience web scraping manually-entered sites will tell you, I ran into a good deal of data quality headaches that needed addressing.

For starters, there were the obvious considerations of spelling, punctuation, capitalization, and other keyboard-related hiccups. Some "lowercase everything" and Regex Magic™ made short work of this.

Then there was the issue of titling. For example, they do this thing live where the splice their songs "Keasbey Nights" and "Point / Counterpoint." Listening to it, this feels like a no-brainer as they're both upbeat songs and in the same key (here's a pretty good fan edit, the break's around 4:15), it's a lot of fun. But from a data perspective, it's an unoffical song and there's no "right" way to title it. Thus, I saw more variations on point / keasbey / counterpoint / nights than I care to elaborate.

Which isn't to say that I'm dispariging!

Messy data is objectively more useful than no data. Which is precisely what I found after combing over my resulting tables. Turns out a good number of shows (particularly those with older dates) didn't have any tracks listed whatsoever.

In [3]:

Or better yet, the show would not be listed at all. My brother still has his printed ticket from the first time we saw them way back when

In [4]:

and lo and behold, January 13th, 2009 is nowhere to be found on this site, where (at the time of writing) the date should be located.

But you work with what you have. So let's do just that.

Failing, Flailing

Loading up the dataset after a ton of collection and cleaning, we've got a big ol' table of 380 different shows against the 57 songs that appear on their albums

In [5]:
from get_data import load_data

df = load_data()

(380, 57)

Printing out the first few rows, we've got a mess that mobile users will no-doubt scroll right on by, lol

In [6]:
everything went numb that'll be the day point / counterpoint if and when we rise again a better place, a better time we are the few failing, flailing here's to life a moment of silence a moment of violence ... the three of us ungrateful the littlest things the hands that thieve with any sort of certainty if only for memories they broke him down toe to toe oh me, oh my your day will come
2009-01-25 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ... 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
2009-01-26 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ... 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
2009-01-27 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ... 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
2009-01-28 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ... 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
2009-02-02 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ... 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

5 rows × 57 columns

As mentioned above, we've got a lot of shows listed that are outright missing data.

Looking at the "count of tracks per show" we have the following

In [7]:
0     124
1       3
2       1
3       1
4       1
5       3
6       5
7       4
8      13
9       8
10      2
11      1
12      6
13      8
14     36
15     50
16     59
17     33
18     17
19      1
20      2
23      2
dtype: int64

Eyeballing, it seems as if the majority of our shows have 7+ songs, so we'll trim our dataset down to remove the incomplete entries and a few one-offs.

In [8]:
trimmed = df[df.sum(axis=1) >= 7]
(242, 57)

We still have almost 250 shows worth of (imperfect but usable) data to work with. Nice.

The Receiving End of It All

One of the best first things you can do after you've got your data cleaned is to find a good way to visualize it. Here I opted for a simple bar chart that highlights both the popularity of individual songs as well as albums as whole.

The tracks are listed chronologically from top to bottom, each album divided by the red lines.

In [9]:
from viz import plot_all_time_plays


And this makes pretty good sense to me.

A bit of background on the albums for the uninitiated:

  • Everything Goes Numb (2003): This is their oldest album, so go figure its tracks have an impressive overall play count
  • Keasbey Nights (2006): A track by track re-recording of an album by a band the lead singer used to be in. It's this whole thing. Not a ton of overlap with the two groups touring at the same time, but the low play-count makes sense. Especially since a year later we get...
  • Somewhere in the Between (2007): My personal favorite. Cover to cover bangers and formative as hell for High-School Nick.
  • 99 Songs of Revolution: Vol. 1 (2010): Perhaps inappropriately-titled "Vol. 1," this was an album exclusively of covers, years before Weezer made it cool. It was a huge hit in my friend group and having gotten into the band in '08, the first of their albums I picked up at launch. However, despite the overwhelming demand from a dozen midwestern teenagers, most of the tracks didn't get their moment in the sun at live shows-- most noteably their cover of Radiohead's Just, which is probably in my top 10 covers of anything.
  • The Hands That Thieve (2013): The last album they put out which kicked off, to everyone's dismay, The End Of The Beginning Tour. They put out a press release outlining the twilight years of Streetlight Manifesto as we know it.

We’ve solidified plans to tour our well-traveled asses off for one last year, until the end of 2013, at which time we will be not necessarily be moving on from the band, but changing our approach to what we do with the majority of our time. More specifically, we will no longer be touring year round, nor will we be touring much at all anymore. We have decided to step away from the table before we get sick of our favorite meal;

Group chats were abuzz, Facebook blew up, as everyone I'd shared this band with clamored to buy tickets for The Last Streetlight Show™. The end was nigh.

They'd then go on to steadily perform 150+ shows over the following 6 years, lol

Day in, Day Out

Of course, flat play counts are interesting to look at, but don't tell the whole story.

When you take a look at how often songs are played together (the darker squares below), you start to get a good intuition for your typical setlist, should you see them live.

In [10]:
from viz import cooccurrence_heatmap