Waxahatchee's first album American Weekend is almost like reading Katie Crutchfield's innermost thoughts. The songs sound less like indie-pop and more like journal entries set to music. And while I'd usually feel weary about hearing someone getting extremely personal with an acoustic guitar, there's something about Katie's tone and voice that comes off as honest and relatable.
The song Bathtub, much like the rest of the album, makes me feel like I'm taking a step into her life for a second. But it doesn't feel intrusive because the way she puts words together makes me look inward and remember my own experiences. I didn't think I'd ever enjoy a song about being the horrible one in a relationship (whether romantic or just friendly).
But I've been in the position that the lyrics describe so often, it's almost like I live within the lyrics. Even now, I can think of people that I wish I could send this song to and apologize that I feel this way. I've left all the lyrics for you below, the song's that good.
Take my word for it, I'm not worth it. I ignored you all night and you don't deserve it. Morning, bathtub, my skin soft and hot. I was sure you were right, but you're not. I contemplate my ruined fate. Someone will hurt me so bad one day. And you'll resonate or I'll apologize or maybe I'll make the same mistake twice. I hide from phone calls under the warm water. Malice desists, no it woefully recurs. And it plays like daytime tv shows. I confuse you. And I tell you not to love me but I still kiss you when I want to. And I lament, you're innocent, but somehow the object of my discontent. And its fucked up. I let you in even though I've seen what can happen. You make a tape. I receive it in the mail and I force myself busy. The diversion will prevail. And I will swallow all my guilt with little pills and forge my chin up. And I will only think about it in the morning, in the bathtub.