10 Albums to Listen to If You're Single on Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is rough when you're single. Movie theaters, museums, art galleries... you're surrounded by couples everywhere you go. You're constantly being reminded of how single (read: alone) you are, and all of the seasonal sales and discounts are geared towards—you guessed it—couples!

Luckily, artists and musicians are some of the loneliest and most lovelorn people on the planet, so you have plenty of art that you can commiserate with over two-buck chuck and cheap chocolate. Here are ten albums you should listen to if you're spending this Valentine's Day solo.

First off, this is the only Kanye album you should be listening to while you're in your feelings. "Heartless", "Love Lockdown" and "Welcome to Heartbreak" are all essential for any newly single person still roiling with bitterness. I mean, this is one of the only rap projects in history where the phrase "I'm cold" has (almost) nothing to do with jewelry. Plus, the auto-tuned singing means you can sing along as off-pitch as you want while you drink all on your lonesome.

You should throw this on your headphones as you roam a white-box gallery, surrounded by lovey-dovey couples. They may have their "happiness," but you just copped some those deadstock Yeezys off eBay for the low-low. Your time will come.

500 Days of Summer famously used "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" to soundtrack Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel's indie-kid cute love fest, but, believe it or not, the Smiths are largely a band fueled by loneliness and frustration. Most of their albums would be perfect for a long, drunk cry but Hatful of Hollow stands out—this is Morrissey at his mopiest.

A lot of the album's whiniest lyrics—for reference, the album's closer is called "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want"—are soaringly delivered over jangling guitars. Instead of ranting to your best friend about your ex, listen to "How Soon Is Now?" and let Moz read your mind.

Honestly, this album made the cut off the strength of "Marvin's Room" (a.k.a the DM Sliding OST) alone. Drake confesses to having sex four times in one week as if it's a bad thing, for chrissakes. I would also argue that "Trust Issues" is relevant to your simp needs, so let's just include that as a bonus track that didn't make the album.

But where 808s is so deeply focused on loneliness, Take Care actually reminds you throughout to feel yourself and have some confidence to get back out there and show 'em what you're made of, champ. You should listen to this album as you scroll through texts you exchanged with your ex, drinking every time you either directly quote or paraphrase Drake. How could that go wrong?

Apart from having an appropriate title, My Bloody Valentine's shoegaze magnum opus is a cathartic experience. The vocals are deliberately mixed low and obscured behind a wall of mono sound. The lyrics are largely incomprehensible but they all sound aching. The instrumentation is so cacophonous that several band-members had to take a break from recording while they recovered from tinnitus. The whole album is a trip.

Throw this album on in your car and go for a night drive alone. Ghost-ride your whip into the ocean. Abandon all material possessions. Take an oath of silence.

Burial's self-titled debut is a rainy masterpiece. There's nothing quite like a chorus of ethereal, genderless, angelic voices to sooth your wounds. Feel free to reflect on its beauty as you ride your local public transport (preferably the subway or a "Night Bus") for hours on end, staring into the faces of all the transient passengers, each of them lonelier than the last.

Hell, you could even play with the idea of moving to London, Zone 2. Did you know they have a cafe in Shoreditch that only serves cereal? It's a grey paradise over there, innit? Who would even notice?

This is album that soundtracks your descent into a reclusive post-breakup depression cluttered with cheap takeout and Kleenex boxes. You may end up moving far, far away into a log cabin surrounded by books whose characters are your only company. You may end up humming "Skinny Love" to yourself in the shower, rhythmically thumping your head against the wall.

You might end up singing "Skinny Love" to your ex at a karaoke bar, only to have them rebuff your advances. You might proceed to get blackout drunk on a whisky you cannot pronounce, barf in that canvas tote bag of theirs that you fucking hated anyway, and hum "Skinny Love" to yourself in the backseat of the Uber on the way home.

Fiona Apple been had bangers, but nowhere is this more apparent than on The Idler Wheel. Tracks like "Every Single Night" and "Hot Knife" are manic-depressive scrawls in a banged-up diary set to booming drums and haunting harmonies, and they all have the potential to tear your heart-strings apart. This album is perfect for your Valentine's Day needs because we all need to embrace our inner crazy ex every once in a while.