Staind — “It's Been A While”: The scream that came late and yet was still in time

“ It's been a while… ” — that's how it always starts. A soulful dragging in confession mode, a slow riff like a cigarette burning in a dark room. And it's there, in that emotional mire, that Staind nailed one of the greatest post-grunge anthems of the new millennium. A song that, without asking permission, climbed to the top of the world charts like someone carrying a piano of guilt on their back — and still singing over it.

Released in 2001, It's Been A While wasn't just a song. It was an emotional avalanche disguised as a dirty ballad. It climbed to No. 5 on the Billboard Hot 100 , a colossal feat for a band that came neither from pop nor easy radio but from the angsty fringes of nu-metal and hungover grunge. It was No. 1 on the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks chart for 20 consecutive weeks —one of the longest runs in the chart's history—and also dominated the Mainstream Rock chart.

In Canada, it reached number 2 , in the UK Singles Chart it entered the top 20 , and in Australia and New Zealand it was equally strong, with airplay on mainstream radio and significant positions on the ARIA Charts. It was one of those tracks that transcended subcultures. It would play in the car of the guy who read Bukowski, in the bedroom of the kid with the greasy hair and the out-of-tune guitar, and even at your cousin's wedding — yes, that sensitive cousin.

Aaron Lewis, the man behind the vocals, doesn't sing — he moans, whispers, scratches. As if each verse is a desperate attempt to keep himself together. The song speaks of addiction, guilt, regret. “ And everything I can't remember / As fucked up as it all may seem ” — there's something raw here, something that glitter-filtered pop could never simulate. The beauty of It's Been A While is in the honest failure, in the confession without appeal or redemption.

And there’s something ironic about the song’s success: it was written years before it was released, hidden in Lewis’s notebook like an unsolved secret. When it came out into the world, the world was ready. Or maybe it desperately needed something like this: imperfect, human, brutally real.

It's Been A While is the B-side of American virility. It's the man who cries when no one is watching, who writes letters he never sends. It's the phrase that is said after emotional tragedy: "I don't know what to say, but this that I'm singing is the closest I can get."

Meanwhile, the riff continues. The voice falters a little. And you realize that the world, for a second, stopped to hear a man apologize. And it was to the sound of that that Staind etched his name in the history of heavy music with heartbreak.