Everybody's Everything
I discovered Lil Peep in August 2017, at the start of my senior year of college. I had just gotten back from a summer in New York, and my transition wasn’t easy. My previously manageable anxiety skyrocketed during the summer, but I wasn’t attuned enough to my own mental health to realize why I felt the way I did. I like to ease into change, but I had no time to transition back to school life before being catapulted into the semester. I didn’t get to decompress, which I desperately needed to do, and that made me unhappy. I think it was this Pitchfork review that introduced me to Peep, and after one listen of the album, I became obsessed with his music. My favorite genres are rap and punk pop, and Peep’s music is a perfect amalgamation of the two. “Awful Things” sounds like blink-182 going trap, and I put it on repeat for at least a month straight. None of the lyrics are relatable for me at all, and that’s usually the case for me with his songs. It’s the mood of his music that I’m drawn to, and I wallowed in it during that fall. His music is dark and abrasive on the surface, but it’s raw and intimate and catchy as hell. It’s certainly not for everyone, as most of my friends can bump “Awful Things” or “I’ve Been Waiting” but draw the line at “Honestly” or “The Song They Played.” You can actually feel his pain in his music, I don’t know for how many other artists that can be said. At least the ones I listen to.
When Lil Peep died that November, I found out while I was scrolling through late-night Twitter and waiting for a Call of Duty match to load. His passing hit me hard for the same reasons that an artist’s passing does to any of their fans – but this was my first time being one of those fans. It was hard for me to reconcile his death with the fact that I could still hear his voice in my ears, that this voice no longer belonged to the body of a living person. I’m not going to pretend like I was the biggest Lil Peep fan; I’m far from it. But I was still shocked and affected by his untimely death in a way that I didn’t think I could or would be.
“Everybody’s Everything” is a fitting tribute to a generation-defining artist who never got to be that. What especially stood out to me is how his music is omnipresent throughout the documentary, but it’s never the focus. Little time is dedicated to a song’s origin or his process for writing them, as it seems most movies about musicians do. Whether this is by design or simply because these things are unknown is irrelevant. It swells and fades into the background, and there’s few interstitials of concert footage, but the main focus of the film is always Peep himself. And that’s how it should be.