"Apocalyptic Songs" Playlist

Sharing and describing a Spotify playlist of songs depicting the apocalypse.

I’ve always been fascinated with apocalyptic imagery. My hyperbolic way of thinking (manifesting always in superlative-laden writing) tends to magnify my emotions such that sometimes I feel like I’m taking on all of the joy or all of the pain that has ever been and have to channel it somehow.

I’m not as creative as many other people who’ve been possessed by emotional demons (and not sure that I’ve published much of my apocalyptic fiction); but luckily, the outlet of other artists’ awesome interpretations of their overwhelming feelings is often a comfort. I can remind myself that it’s perfectly natural to imagine something just blinking this all away.

I made a playlist out of ten songs that I love on the subject of the end, which you can find just at the head of this article. Now I’m going to describe each of them:

Funeralopolis by Electric Wizard has the angriest, bleakest outlook, and most manic build to demanding apocalypse on the playlist (“nuclear warhead ready to strike; this world is so fucked, let’s end it tonight!”). It takes a long time to ramp up, so that you’ve got time to start getting high by the time the fun part kicks in. While this song has some of the angriest lyrics and heaviest reverb on the whole playlist, I think the big stoner riffs and placement as the second track on Dopethrone gives it a certain humorous edge which keeps it falling on the “fun” side of songs about wishing for the world to end.

Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden is one of the earliest songs that I remember listening to on the radio and loving as a kid (although eventually I became afraid of the creepy music video, dodged the song for a few years, and fell in love again). Music theory analyst 12Tone has a video breaking down how impeccably-written this song is in detail for the curious. That the band dedicated such craft and soul to such a somber and lyrically-coded (“In my eyes, indisposed, in disguises no one knows”) tribute to apocalyptic salvation (“black hole sun, won’t you come wash away the rain?”) has made it a special song to me since the early-90s.

Aenima by Tool is the first song that I remember falling in love with specifically for the mental imagery invoked by its sour lyrics—searing with hatred for the fake-ass people of Los Angeles, and with a desire for the late Bill Hick’s bit about the city being flooded and turned into Arizona Bay to come to fruition. I’ve loved this angular, angry, lengthy single since 2004—but only recently, when driving thru LA during a week of its incredibly-rare rainstorms—did I come to appreciate why someone would be so pissed-off at the populous; and also how apocalyptic even a regular amount of rain is taken as to the people living there. “Learn to swim,” indeed.

No World For Tomorrow by Coheed and Cambria takes us in a different direction—not describing or hoping for an oncoming apocalypse, but rather calling on whoever’s listening to take up arms in the battle to prevent an inevitable end of days. (“Raise your hands high, young brothers and sisters! There’s a world’s worth of work, and a need for you. (…) Is there no world for tomorrow, if we wait for today?”) There’s an urgency to the song as it deftly segues between fast-moving sonic set-pieces, and calls for action in the face of what is—in the context of the convoluted sci-fi narrative behind all of the band’s albums—literally the of the end of the universe. You could argue that some of the album’s final songs make more sense to consider as songs where the universe is actually ending, but I don’t think that any of those quite convey the energy of the oncoming apocalypse with the same fever that this song does.

It’s The End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) by REM is probably the best-known song on this playlist (remember Tommy Boy? “LEONARD BERNSTEIN??”), and another I’ve had with me since childhood (though I came to appreciate it when my friend covered it on one of the early Trial of the Golden Witch albums). If you’re not a rapper, this might be the fastest song you’ll ever try to learn the words to—made difficult by how angular and un-rhyming the lyrics are, and full of pop culture and political references very specific to the time at which the song was released. Luckily, the sentiment is easily communicated by the epic hook. (“It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine!”)

Starless by King Crimson isn’t specifically about the apocalypse (and it’s not like the band doesn’t have other songs which might be described thusly), but I do think that the song sounds even post-apocalyptic. It’s as heartbreaking, hollow, and dismal as a From Software RPG. (“Sundown, dazzling day; gold through my eyes… but my eyes, turned within, only see… starless and… bible black.”) It’s about inward pain so intense that it ruins the entirety of the world from your perspective. (“A grey hope that all yearns to be.”)

BOOM! by System of a Down is about the ongoing apocalypse that is reality in our world of constant bombings and child death. (“4,000 hungry children leave us per hour from starvation, while billions are spent on bombs creating death showers!”) It’s an intensely political protest song (released during the height of the US invasion of Iraq) and it goes hard as hell between Serj’s enraged poetry, ranting statistics, and shouted chorus (“BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!”) in which he reminds us that, “every time you drop the bomb, you kill the God your child has born.” I’ve thought a lot about that vague lyric, and I find it fascinating—though I couldn’t put it into words what it means.

A Scream To Express The Hate of A Race, according to Mirrorthrone (who was quickly asked after publishing the song in 2005 if it was about any specific “race”), is about the human race as a whole. Nevertheless, it is a call for absolute genocide of the human race because of its wanton impurity—so it’s not exactly a song that’s meant to be taken pleasantly by anyone. Mirrorthrone is the most-insane DAW-driven symphonic black metal ever made because of the one-man band’s total abandonment of any attempt to sound realistic; instead weaving insanely-textured ten-minute symphonies of raw nihilism and disgust with all human rot. The lyrics are also full of intensely-vivid imagery of desolation and dismay. (“A scream to express the hate of a race that lost itself within the entrails of the sound of its echoing steps; going to nowhere, from nowhere, till nowhere; the vultures gather—their feathers are the fathers of genocide.”)

Planet B by King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard is a case in which the entire album pretty much describes the end of the world. Accidentally predicting COVID a year before it happened, the ripping thrash-metal album describes a story in which the rich people of Earth try to leave for Mars while a superbug ravages the planet—and then, the souls of the dead ravage the rich (or something; it gets complicated). The opening title track is a direct warning against even considering the possibility of escaping Earth to a “planet B” (“THERE IS NO PLANET B!!!”), insisting that when the inevitable end comes, we will all be fucked. It’s bitter, angry, and even a bit mocking.

If you know of any more songs about the apocalypse that you think fit the tone of this playlist (or even have placement suggestions) I’d love to learn about them in the comments! Remembering (or even knowing) enough songs to build these playlists is no easy task on my own.

Cease by Bad Religion is poetically sweeping; not so-much specifically about the end of the world, as it is about the concept of ending, and its inevitability, in and of itself. (“Grave memorial, hewn white stone—like the comforting caress of a mother, or a friend you’ve always known. It evokes such pain and significance; what was once is reduced to remembrance; and the generations pass without recompense.”) I felt a need to put this song at the end of the playlist not only because it is the last song on The Grey Race, but also because it uses its own ending to thematically reflect the predictable untimeliness of ceasing. (“What pretension, everlasting peace—everything must—.”)