IMC Listening guide

Best weather to enjoy this song

Sunny day

Best time to listen

Midday energy boost

Best place to listen

On the road

Does this song haunt the silence?

Impossible to forget

Goosebumps scale

Chills guaranteed

Our thoughts

The first time you hear this song, you might be caught off guard. That’s fair. The contrast is wild and honestly kind of genius.
We’re talking about hitting rock bottom, substance use, ....huh. Dark stuff. But then the chorus hits, all upbeat and cheerful. How is that even possible? Easy. Ryan Cassata is what you’d call a survivor in a world obsessed with labeled boxes.

Let’s start with the obvious. Ryan is queer, and that’s not a label. It’s a presence. A personality. Something that sticks with you. How do we know that? We spent two full days watching his YouTube videos. And that’s where you really see it. His story, laid bare. Like in those videos from 2009, where he talks to a camera about his daily struggles. No filter. No performance. Just honesty.
And then there’s that 2018 track, 'Daughter'. Two and a half million views on YouTube. Three and a half million streams on Spotify. Yeah, we know. Here at IMC, we don’t care much about numbers. Most of the time, they don’t mean anything. But in this case, they do. Because when something connects that widely, there’s a reason. People are moved. And since we’re here to bring you goosebumps, let’s not pretend otherwise.

So yeah, we fell for it. We watched the videos, listened to more songs, and came to the same conclusion. In a world that keeps patting itself on the back for being more tolerant, how is it still necessary to justify who you are? Some people will call it a choice. Others a belief. That’s usually what they say when they don’t get it. But here we are, three decades into all the “we’re more inclusive now” speeches, and I’m not so sure it’s true. Because if existing outside of some invisible norm is still a fight in 2025, then something’s clearly off. And by the way, who made up that norm in the first place?

Anyway, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with a music review. Fair enough. There we go. i feel like throwing up is much more than another song in a playlist, we could say it's a mirror. It shows the cracks in a world built on fake smiles and image control. We ran a little social experiment on Instagram last week to see how easily people fall for AI-generated crap. Spoiler alert: they did. Hard.
But with someone like Ryan Cassata, there’s no trap. No cheating. Just the reality of a wonderful human being. Probably the most genuine artist we’ve come across in 24 years of writing about music. And when I say genuine, I mean someone who is kind, honest, and really just wants one thing: to be left the hell alone. Well, not really because he now has an incredible amount of friends, haha!

So let’s trash the ChatGPT pitch we got for this song. It went like, “this song reflects the emotional toll of being trans under an increasingly hostile administration”. Sorry, but no. Let’s rephrase that. “This song is about being tired of having to explain yourself in a world that claims it doesn’t care who you are”. Better, right?

What if we just stopped obsessing over what other people do with their lives? I know, I know. Social media makes that hard. Everyone’s got an opinion about everything, even the stuff they know nothing about. But what if we stopped deciding who others are allowed to be?

Then maybe, just maybe, we wouldn’t need to say we’re tolerant anymore. We’d just be.

And now, let’s not forget we’re here to talk music. Because i feel like throwing up is not an important song. In just a single word: it’s a huge banger. Ryan says it's his best song ever and he's absolutely right.

Let's go further: it could be the song of the decade. Because it has everything it needs. A melody that sticks in your head like glue. A production that’s detailed, sharp, and totally on point. Vocal harmonies that hit just right. And by the end, all you want to do is stand on a chair and scream to the world, “f**k you all”.

Ryan Cassata's take on this song:

"I wrote this song during a particularly intense period of illness, when my Lyme disease co-infections and an autoimmune disease were severely flaring. For months, my daily routine consisted almost entirely of doctor visits and IV treatments, leaving me largely homebound. It was a time marked by deep isolation and the ache of missing out on everyday life with friends. While the lyrics stem from that personal experience, they also reflect the broader feeling of being unseen and left out, a feeling that resonates deeply with the experience of being trans in America right now, especially under a government increasingly hostile to our existence. The track was produced and performed in collaboration with Mark Pelli of MAGIC!"

A bit more about Ryan Cassata

Ryan Cassata (he/him) is a singer, songwriter, and trans activist who makes music that actually means something. His new album _Greetings from Echo Park_, out June 6 on Kill Rock Stars, mixes folk punk, emo, and blues with lyrics about anxiety, illness, identity, and survival. It's rough, honest, and hits right where it should. Written while dealing with Lyme disease and autoimmune struggles, the album doesn’t try to be polished. It tells the truth. From queer love songs to punk tracks about being sick of everything, Cassata says what others avoid. He’s played over 650 shows, was the first openly trans artist at Vans Warped Tour, and has been featured at SXSW, Jazz at Lincoln Center, and Global Pride. He’s been highlighted by Billboard, Paper, and The Advocate, but more than that, he's one of the real ones.

Reach out to Ryan Cassata

Lyrics

They’re at a Hollywood party
Flipping cups, they move like zombies
Having a face off with the fools in the mirror
And they raise up their ghostly hands
With every bump, they take a chance
Lining lines, then close their eyes
And they wait to feel alive

So they’re trading whispers, and tapping sneakers,
They’re wide awake, they feel alive
So they’re mixing liquors, and blasting speakers
They’re out of body, out of soul, but at least they feel alive

And I used to speak like no one was listening
And I used to do things that were more interesting
No interviews, no shows, I'm off the stages
I'm having trouble navigating all of these changes

My friends, they
Will sing this really loud
But unless a stranger sings it
I won’t really feel proud
My friends think that I’m going up
But I feel like throwing up, I feel like throwing up

It’s a long haul from the east side, and I’ve been staying in
My friends are moving apartments, and I bailed because I couldn’t lift
I’m sick of missing out, thinking what are they doing now?
While I chug 3 cups of water to wash the pills down
And they’re passing joints and loading boxes
I’m on the bathroom floor, so fucking nauseous
I miss feeling like a kid, invincible with thicker skin
I miss feeling alive, I shut my eyes not to spin

And I used to speak like no one was listening
And I used to do things that were more interesting
No interviews, no shows, I'm off the stages
I'm having trouble navigating all of these changes

My friends, they
Will sing this really loud
But unless a stranger sings it
I won’t really feel proud
My friends think that I’m going up
But I feel like throwing up, I feel like throwing up
My friends, they
Will sing this really loud
But unless a stranger sings it
I won’t really feel proud
My friends think that I’m going up
But I feel like throwing up, I feel like throwing up, I feel like throwing up

-------------------------

If you enjoyed this song, consider supporting the artist directly on platforms like Bandcamp, Patreon, and Twitch whenever possible. Streaming services are great for discovery, but they rarely provide fair compensation for musicians. Every purchase makes a difference! And if you enjoyed this article, feel free to support Indie Music Center with a donation.