366 Songs 366: What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?

Firstly, anyone who didn’t think that I was going to go with this song for the final day of the year, you really don’t know me that well, do you?

This is such a lovely song in almost every incarnation, if only for the longing and hopefulness in the lyric and the swooping melody. “Oh, but in case I stand a little chance/Here comes the jackpot question in advance…” How can you fail to fall for a song that says that? Myself, I’m partial to the Rufus version above; I think the plain arrangement and his moaning vocals fit especially well, for some reason, but there’s no denying that Ella made it swing like few others:

And so, we come to the end of this year-long experiment to write about a song every day. It failed, in many ways – I didn’t write one a day, and had to play catch-up numerous times – but it was fun nonetheless, even when it felt like a broken promise hanging over my head. I’ve been emailed to ask if I’ll be continuing it in the new year, and I doubt it; I’ll search for new ways to write about music and find my footing there, I think (An album a month, maybe?), and I want to get away from promising something every day because I know from experience that that’s not always possible for various reasons. As to where that’ll leave this blog… Well, we’ll see together, I think. 2012 has been, as I’ve said elsewhere, a rough year and as part of 2013’s correction course, I want to try and find a new creative equilibrium to tamp off the excesses of work. I suspect this site will play some part in that, even if I don’t know what form it’ll take.

Happy New Year, everyone reading this, wherever and whoever you are. May your next 366 songs, and days (Well, 365, of course; next year isn’t a leap year), be something to leave you smiling.

366 Songs 292: Ghosts

There’s something sticky about this song; it’s not just the tumbling piano threading its way through the entire song, as irresistible as it is, nor the “do do do do do do do/do do do do/do do do do”s, even though you find yourself wanting to sing along almost immediately. It’s the ramshackleness of the whole thing, the fact that it sounds casual and friendly, for want of a better way to put it. There’s something warm about this song, even as it bemoans the apathy of smalltown life (“All my friends are talking about leaving/about leaving/But all my friends are sitting in their graves”) and feeling trapped in the place where you’ve always lived (“Is it any wonder that we all leave home/When people say “I knew you when you were six years old”/You say ‘But I’ve changed/I’ve changed, I’ve changed/I’ve changed'”). Or maybe because of that. After all, who hasn’t felt those things at some point in their life, and hearing them being expressed back to you in a way that sounds… comforting, I guess, is something that’s hard to say no to.