Video Editor Owen Bienen is a man in touch with his emotions. That is, until he starts jumping up and down and shouting TikTok brain rot at me in the middle of a deep, meaningful conversation at 3:00 a.m.
This exact scenario is reflected in his 10-song iEdit playlist, which at one point shifts from “Sandpaper,” a masterful collaboration between two generational talents, Zach Bryan and Bruce Springsteen, to David Guetta’s “Sexy Bitch.”
Bienen’s iEdit opens with a song that needs no introduction: “City of Stars,” by Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone from the La La Land soundtrack. The classic piano melody paired with simple, yet touching lyrics must resonate for anyone currently dating someone, especially Owen, who is dating my direct roommate.
“That now our dreams / They’ve finally come true,” sing Stone and Gosling.
This lyric serves as a direct reference to Bienen’s personal ambitions of not only annoying me in public but now, in the privacy of my own room as well.
The playlist then smoothly transitions to the most depressing song ever written: “Need You Now” by Lady A. This 2010 country hit highlights Bienen’s ability to connect with his inner 56-year-old mother of three, reminiscing on her long-lost love who dropped out of high school to move to Nashville and write songs exclusively about beer, trucks, and ’Merica.
As soon as the listener wipes away their tears and starts browsing the internet for pink cowboy boots to chase the one that got away down Broadway, Cherub’s falsetto voice opens up “Doses and Mimosas,” Bienen’s personal anthem.
The lyric “To all the b—h ass hoes that hate me the most / Oh yeah, I hate you too,” speaks for itself.
As a resident of Welch Hall, Owen not only has the opportunity to play this song frequently for his many, many guests but also his many, many haters, because, again, he lives in Welch.
“The Kill” by Maggie Rogers makes its appearance as the fourth song on this playlist. At this point, the listener may think to themselves, “What a great song! Owen has fantastic music taste!” And to that point, I would agree.
I regret to inform the listener that this song, however, among many other Rogers songs, is part of a collection of approximately 20 songs that were directly copied and pasted from my Spotify to Bienen’s “current” playlist during exam season last year.
While “The Kill” provides a satisfying reflection on a failed relationship that faults both parties, Gracie Abrams’ “Risk” follows. “Risk” has explicitly hopeful lyrics about finding love and an upbeat, playful guitar melody to match. However, the song also has a personal reference to a specific memory with Owen from our trip to Maine last summer.
Prior to this trip, Bienen told every single person who would listen that we were going to paddleboard together.
“I wanted to be like those videos of the man and his dog that sits on the front of the board while he paddles,” Bienen said.
The lyric “Heard the risk is drownin’, but I’m gonna take it” gives the listener a pretty accurate picture of how the experience turned out when we actually attempted this.
“Sandpaper” by Bryan and Springsteen is next in the queue, which Bienen tells me is a reference to his father, Jon Bienen. The duet between Bryan and Springsteen invokes images of a redheaded 10-year-old in the backseat of his dad’s car, driving down the Jersey Shore, belting “Dancing in the Dark,” also on Bienen’s other “current playlist.”
Guetta’s “Sexy Bitch” appears next. I have actually memorized the words to the chorus of this song against my will. Plenty of my hikes from the Heights office to Gasson 205 for Bienen and I’s political science class have been accompanied by the same two lyrics, over and over.
The lyrics “She’s nothin’ like a girl you’ve ever seen before / Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood hoe / I’m tryna find the words to describe this girl / Without bein’ disrespectful,” haunt my nightmares. Or maybe Owen just barges into my room and sings them to me while I am sleeping. I wouldn’t be surprised.
In true Bienen fashion, the next song on the playlist is Coldplay’s “Yellow,” which, again, is another homage to his inner middle-aged woman mourning the loss of her lover, who is certainly not her husband.
Upon glancing at the next song, I discovered something truly novel about Bienen: he is NOT a Gleek (fan of the TV show Glee, for those who don’t know). While many, including this writer, argue that Darren Criss’ “Somewhere Only We Know” is the superior cover of the song, Bienen includes Keane’s original version. This realization reminds me of one of the main differences between Owen and I: he was not a theater kid in high school.
Since he wasn’t spending his time waiting for cast lists and embarrassingly singing in the car, I had to conduct some research on what activities O–[[-=[[wen was doing at this time. Here, I found his lacrosse highlights, which is my new favorite corner of the internet.
Additionally, I found out he was on the sailing team during his freshman year, where I imagine he wistfully listened to Keane’s voice sing, “I walked across an empty land / I knew the pathway like the back of my hand” as he put on his Ray-Bans (which I broke, sorry Owen) and sailed uncharted waters.
The final song on Bienen’s playlist is “We Bring the Boom” by A.J. and Big Justice. No further comments.
