Grief, Growth, and Appalachian Emo: Navigating the Valley of Despair with ‘almostbetter’
- bandsinthebus
- Apr 4
- 4 min read
Authenticity doesn't often win accolades in the music industry. When it's truly raw, vulnerability can feel deeply uncomfortable to audiences conditioned by curated social media feeds and carefully managed public images. There's rarely a tangible reward for artists brave enough to bear their scars openly. At best, they might earn a heartfelt but obscure review on a music blog, which perhaps is why we're here now.
What could summon me from the seemingly endless spiral of grief I've been experiencing since September 2023? What could break my cycle of unproductive self-loathing fueled by creative perfectionism? Perhaps we should call it Appalachian Emo, as Jim Vest does.
Jim Vest's latest work with his collaborative musical project, Contraceptives, is the EP almostbetter. Calling this record as tragic as it is triumphant would be a profound understatement.
Could a record bring closure?
Perhaps not for the person who wrote it or even for those who inspired it. But it strangely feels like closure to me.
Listening to almostbetter felt like hearing all the parts of my abuser that I loved—those genuinely good parts worthy of love—finally offering me the honest, genuine apology that I will never truly receive. It felt like catharsis, forgiveness, and the closure I've desperately needed yet never expected to find.
shot. The EP opens with a deceptively upbeat melody that contrasts sharply with deeply self-aware lyrics about addiction, mental illness, and intergenerational trauma. Vest's vulnerable admission, "A shot to make my brain okay, a shot to take my pain away," acknowledges both the generational pain inherited from his father's addictions and his own struggles. This song beautifully sets the tone for an album that never once flinches from honesty, even when it's painful.
deadpan. Deadpan cuts right to the heart of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) with unsettling clarity. It captures the constant internal war of self-loathing and the guilt that floods in when love cannot drown out the chaos within. It's about desperately wanting to be honest yet not knowing who you truly are. I cried in my bathtub listening to this, feeling every word as if Vest had written it specifically for me.
window. "You're cordially invited to the show in which I star," Vest sings, painting himself as performer and spectator in his unraveling. Is love a window or a mirror? In reality, it's both. This song poignantly explores losing the person who saw through your darkness and loved you anyway; and the absolute devastation of trying to rebuild yourself without them.
fine. "Fine" bravely tackles the bittersweet comfort found in knowing that someone you loved deeply is better off without you. There's immense courage in wishing wellness upon someone despite the pain they've left behind. Fine is not happiness but acceptance, and acceptance is progress.
wraith. Grief is love with nowhere to go, so it haunts our minds and bodies. "Wraith" encapsulates this hauntingly beautiful truth. This song recognizes that grief's lingering presence can still push us toward growth. It's tragically beautiful and deeply healing, acknowledging how love, even lost love, remains powerful enough to alter our lives.
ohbyeoh. This is perhaps the EP's bravest track. It acknowledges the truth that substance abuse can sometimes act as a twisted lifeline. Relapsing into active addiction, instead of ending all pain immediately, can paradoxically become suicide prevention. The bravery lies in acknowledging the flawed yet genuine attempts at self-soothing. Jim Vest doesn't blame anyone but acknowledges the profound love and light once given by someone who left to save themselves.
everything. "Everything" confronts the tragic clarity that comes only after profound loss. Vest reflects on realizing the significance of love too late and the irreparable harm caused before becoming a person who is genuinely capable of giving and receiving love. It's heartbreaking and redemptive, encapsulating the devastating truth that sometimes growth and realization arrive too late to repair the damage inflicted.
dnr. "DNR" is deeply personal, capturing the valley of despair after rock bottom—the raw, in-between place where even hope feels like a burden, and guilt masquerades as truth. The honesty of needing space to heal oneself before you can heal or care for others is compellingly real and painfully relatable.
chemotherapy. "Chemotherapy" marks a crucial shift. It's the acceptance phase, recognizing mutual harm without casting blame. Vest admits that love can become poison, especially when trauma survivors unintentionally weaponize love and fear against one another. It acknowledges the complex truth that healing sometimes means confronting the harm done not only to oneself but also by oneself.
almostbetter. The EP closes quietly yet powerfully, finally allowing a glimmer of genuine hope. "almostbetter" is about that delicate moment when stability begins to feel sustainable. It's acknowledging that while happiness, or even contentment, hasn't fully returned yet, there's genuine confidence that "better" is attainable. It's a gentle but profound triumph after the arduous emotional journey.
almostbetter moved me deeply. It made me cry, allowed me to forgive, and offered closure I thought impossible. It's more than music; it's therapy, a confession, a eulogy, and a love letter all at once. Jim Vest has not only bravely exposed his wounds but helped heal mine.
almostbetter might never win mainstream awards, but its vulnerability deserves celebration. This EP is proof that authenticity still matters.
Credits: almostbetter by contraceptives.
Recorded at: Compound Sound, Jackson, OH (except "Fine," recorded at Amish Electric Chair Studios, Athens, OH by Neil Tuuri)
Produced by: contraceptives. Co-produced by: Kyle Belcher, Neil Tuuri (fine.)
Featuring musicians: Kelson Copas, Kyle Belcher, Joseph Crabtree, Bart Wiseman, Jerry Morgan Jr., John Borchard, Allen Daugherty, Jordan B. Lombardo, Max Rose, Esther Brodess, Steven Winger, Zach Sickles, Nick Foley.