Speak Music To Me

I haven’t blogged in a very long time. And recently I’ve not really sung.

Not that I don’t love to do either, just that life happens.

For the past 13 months life has been happening as something of a white knuckle ride. A separation, a pandemic, an unplanned house move, shifts of life’s tectonic plates. Fissures that have let both light in and created a chill at times. Sometimes the same time.

I’ve been told many times over the past 13 months that I must be incredibly strong. I think it’s meant as a compliment but doesn’t always land that way. Last weekend I felt anything but. Alone and scared and tired and bewildered I felt as if I had very few resources left to pick myself up, dust myself down and dance in the rain. But it turns out I had two: my twitter network and my love of music. Maybe a third too: a willingness to be publicly vulnerable.

So I posted a tweet saying that I was struggling and asking people to share a song that cheered them or gave them hope. I thought maybe I’d get a few uplifting tunes to force myself to dance round the kitchen to. I never expected the gift I received instead.

Over 60 replies. What eventually became a 6 and a half hour Spotify playlist.

Every conceivable genre of music you could think of. And so much warmth, kindness, generosity it blew me away. I’ve been listening to that playlist every day for a week now and, more than the generous gift of kind people sharing their favourite music, every time I plug in my headphones I learn something new.

There are the songs that have got me up dancing, even though I’m alone, even though I’ve felt tired, even though I thought I might have forgotten how. Songs that made me look forward to nights out, parties and kitchen discos with friends. Chaka Khan, Sweet Female Attitude, Kanye West, Irene Cara, A-ha, Queen, Beyonce, ‘You Can’t Stop The Beat’ from Hairspray, Katrina and The Waves.

Then there were the songs that had me singing again - Whitesnake ‘Here I Go Again’, David Guetta ‘Titanium’, M People ‘Moving on Up’, Defying Gravity from Wicked.

There were songs I’d never heard of, and songs I’d long ago decided I didn’t like coming back wrapped in the paper of friendship asking for a second chance. Songs that, once I was alone and had space to listen without prejudice, showed themselves to me as new things to be learned and appreciated.

Each song an insight into the person who’d suggested it - sometimes accompanied with a back story or explanation, often not. Lots of covers - James Taylor’s version of ‘Up On The Roof’ which has a wistful and introspective quality that isn’t there in The Drifters’ original. Willie Nelson’s version of ‘That’s Life’ - a Frank Sinatra standard that we played as the last song at our wedding and now, with ten more years of life, was more fitting in Willie’s gravelly, life-weary timbre.

Much to my joy there were plenty of Country songs. As a girl who lived in Kentucky in her formative years Country music will always speak straight to my heart - the old ‘three chords and the truth’ never more true than in the Wille Nelson song (even thought it isn’t a country song originally), or in Kacey Musgrave’s ‘Rainbow’. Johnny Cash’s ‘A Boy Named Sue’ speaking to how perspective, blame, shame and redemption come to us all if we let them, and sometimes even if we don’t.

And there were the ones I heard for the first time. ‘Night Scented Stock’, from a dear friend which sounds like being alone in church with sunlight. The Mary Ellen Carter, accompanied by a note telling me I’d also rise again, Black Sabbath ‘Fairies Wear Boots’, which has been responsible for me stompingly overtaking many a slower walker on my regular strolls this week.

Soaring guitar riffs, drums that force you to dance, brass sections that have made me smile more than I’ve smiled in ages. So many gifts.

But I’m a lyrics girl at heart. I was the one recording the top 100 on the radio and then rewinding every song so I could hand-scribe the lyrics (too impatient to wait for Smash Hits). And I wanted to close this post by sharing some of the ones that have spoken to me. I hope they bring you something. And remind you that you are never alone. There are always kind people, there is always music. And, if you are really, really lucky, they come together just when you really need them.

If you smiled, the walls'd fall down
On all the people in this pickup joint
But if you laughed, you'd level this town
Hey lonely girl, that's just the point

And the black smoke rises
From the fires we've been told
It's the new age crisis
And we will stand up in the cold

Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain

Well the sky has finally opened
The rain and wind stopped blowin'
But you're stuck out in the same ol' storm again
You hold tight to your umbrella
Well, darlin', I'm just tryin' to tell ya
That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

Your faith in me brings me to tears
Even after all these years

'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

Don't worry, about a thing
'Cause every little thing, gonna be all right

With love to everyone who took the time to share a song with me - here’s the playlist. I hope it brings you joy too x

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6SrwybU3V0z5SGk7EaTDSS?si=78oXr-icSBKgpMAfiOAbfw