5 Classic Rock Songs Every Divorced Boomer's Playlist Needs

Someone once said that every divorce is good because no happy marriage ends in divorce. True or not, for any boomers dealing with divorce, the change can come with some major silver linings, and one of the best is taking back total control of the music you play. For every boomer out there going through it (and the statistics are in: a great many people are), at the very least, the playlist behind it is all theirs. Whatever blend of sadness, anger, and anxiety may come, at least boomers can say that the music of their youth, classic rock, will be there for them.

Divorce isn't just a breakup. It's a personal evolution and the launching of an entirely new chapter of life, and the songs gathered here reflect that. From surviving to thriving to finding someone new, and yeah, to being a little petty too, these songs are the perfect way to feel and make sense of it all. Luckily, classic rock is broad and has a song for every one of life's changes, and here, we've gathered five of the genre's best that belong in every boomer's divorce playlist.

There's no getting around the fact that grief is a huge piece of the divorce process. Even if separation is ultimately for the best, there's still the painful and indeterminately long period between the initial breakup and "ultimately." Fortunately for anyone stuck in the swamp of sadness, the entire area has been thoroughly mapped out by one of its great explorers, Morrissey. The master of mope is known for his many melancholy ballads, but few are purer expressions of post-breakup sorrow than "I Know It's Over," off The Smiths' 1986 masterpiece, "The Queen Is Dead."

The song begins with Morrissey crooning, "Oh, Mother, I can feel / The soil falling over my head / And as I climb into an empty bed / Oh well, enough said," and immediately, the vibe is clear. Moz is out to capture that empty hopelessness that comes to the newly divorced in waves. From there, every line becomes its own microcosm of grief.

The choruses begin as straightforwardly as it gets with "And I know it's over, still I cling / I don't know where else I can go," but veer into Morrissey's trademark insightfulness with "I know it's over, and it never really began / But in my heart, it was so real." The third verse, despite being the most muted, is the song's emotional highpoint. After racking his brain for the reason for his loneliness, Moz finally settles on relatable self-pity: "Why do you sleep alone tonight? / I know, 'cause tonight is just like any other night" — a self-defeating thought any divorcee can relate to.

There's no such thing as a normal divorce, and that fills the whole ordeal with uncertainty. The good news, though, is that there is one guarantee with any split: Someday, it will be over, and everyone will survive. There's a lot of strength to be found in that realization, and the perfect song to help usher any boomer there is "I'm Still Standing" by the legendary Sir Elton John. The song was written by John and his longtime writing partner Bernie Taupin. Interestingly, the song has come to represent something entirely different than Taupin's original intention — yet both messages have a lot to teach about moving on.

For many, who understandably take the lyrics at face value, "I'm Still Standing" is an ode to the narrator's resilience after a breakup. The chorus sure seems that way, proudly proclaiming over that iconic pulsing bass: "I'm still standin' after all this time / Pickin' up the pieces of my life without you on my mind." Surviving and moving on are already worthwhile pursuits, and the song fits those goals perfectly. But Taupin has revealed that he intended the song to be less about telling off an ex and more about reassuring them that everything will be okay. According to Taupin (via Smooth Radio), he wrote the song to be "a sort of kiss off" to an ex-girlfriend. "You know the sort of thing, 'Don't you worry about me, I'll be perfectly fine,'" he explained. Whether for an ex or in spite of one, "I'm Still Standing" is a divorce playlist necessity.

The band Looking Glass is about as pure an example of a one-hit wonder as possible, but what a hit it had. Though "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" may have only reached No. 1 on the Billboard charts for a single week, it left a lasting impression as a simple but masterful parable on the choice between love and passion. Anyone going through divorce, especially in the latter half of their life like boomers, can learn a lot from (or at least unwind and relax to) Brandy's story.

In just three minutes, Looking Glass takes listeners through a remarkably effective story about the love between Brandy and her unnamed sailor suitor. Brandy, seemingly the object of every man's dreams, nonetheless wants only one man: The one sailor she'll never have. She's worn a locket of his ("Made of finest silver from the north of Spain," don't you know) for years, perhaps decades, and at night, she still "walks through a silent town / And loves a man who's not around."

The reason he's not around is the song's crux. The sailor, who "always told the truth," had been upfront and told Brandy from the start: "[M]y life, my love, and my lady is the sea." Despite the sailor's repeated reassurance that she was a great woman who would make a great wife, his calling was out at sea — "No harbor was his home." It can be comforting to know that the point of life can be more than just a relationship.

If any song title speaks for itself when it comes to a divorce playlist, it's Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' "I Hate Myself for Loving You." Sure, divorce playlists can help people process, learn, heal, and evolve, but they also need a fist-pumping snarl of a song for all the anger. Anything hard, distorted, and driving is ideal, and there aren't any as on the nose and energizing as "I Hate Myself for Loving You."

There is perhaps no line more petty than Jett's "You just don't know what you was missin' last night / I wanna see you begging, say forget it just for spite," especially coming right after the apparently disingenuous "I'm over bein' angry 'bout the hell you put me through." That pettiness can be fuel, though, and a song like this can help someone feel those base, human feelings without feeling alone. The song leans on the chorus again and again, and its sadly relatable lyrics merit repeating. "I hate myself for loving you," sings Jett. "Can't break free from the things that you do / I wanna walk, but I run back to you / That's why I hate myself for loving you." For many, a breakup playlist is about catharsis, and there's something primal and cathartic about singing through those tears to lyrics that genuinely seem to understand and relate. Most have desperately wanted to go back at some point after a relationship, and most understand how much you can hate yourself for wanting to.

Every breakup, no matter one's age or the type of relationship that came before it, comes with a newfound freedom. It's not just a silver lining, either — it's half the darn cloud. There's no spin needed to see the upside in a free schedule, relaxed expectations, and a world that suddenly opens wide. Likewise, there's nothing fancy hiding within The Rolling Stones' 1965 B-side "I'm Free," and that's a good thing. Sometimes, the best message is the simplest one: You're now free to do what you want, any old time.

"I'm Free" has only minor bits of specificity to it, like in the final verse when Mick Jagger sings, "I'm free to choose whom I please any old time / I'm free to please whom I choose any old time." In that case, it's clear that Jagger and co. are celebrating the freedom to find someone new and exciting. For most of the song, however, the refrain is simply "I'm free to do what I want any old time," again and again, like a mantra for the newly reborn. There's nothing profound to that sentiment, but it's an important one to hear as many times as needed. The simplicity and hopefulness of its lyrics, combined with the brightly jangling guitar, make "I'm Free" feel like the end credits song to a movie. To any boomer going through a divorce, add "I'm Free" to the end of the playlist and let it play as the credits roll on what was as you're hopeful for what will be.