... but here are my best songs of the decade.
Why should anyone listen to me or care what I think?
No reason that I can think of.
I don't even go about studying popular music in any serious way. When I look at other people's best-of lists my reaction is that I've never heard of most of the songs or artists listed.
These are songs that jumped out at me and then stuck. My one and only Serpentine One was listening to these along with me last night. I hadn't told her what the songs had in common, why I had assembled them, I just played them and she commented that these songs are all very sing alongable. That they certainly are and that is probably what caught my attention about them all in the first place.
Why did they stick? Good question. They have something in common philosophically speaking but I can't quite say what it is but, whatever it is, fragility is an important part of it. But rather than try and figure out what that is, here they are (in no particular order):
Mirador Fredric Gary Comeau
I couldn't find a video link on line for tis one. "Mirador" means tower or watchtower and the song works over the the already overworked theme of being in love with someone distant and unreachable in their lonely tower. It's glory lies entirely in the way it makes the most of the word "Mirador" which, in it's French pronunciation, is one of those words that feels very good in your mouth. If you can listen without singing along there is something wrong with you.
Find My Way Back Home Priscilla Ahn
This is so warm, so human, so fragile, so perfect. As near as I can tell, she can open her mouth and sing like this any time she wants.
Hang On Little Tomato Pink Martini
An ordinary enough sentiment, as, again, all these songs are, but expressed so wonderfully. Having a clarinet introduce the melody line sure doesn't hurt.
Butterfly Nets Bishop Allen
If your mother loved you this should be pretty self evident. If she didn't, listening to this could help make up for that a little bit.
The Prettiest Thing Norah Jones
Okay, everybody hates Norah nowadays. Even I have to admit that she ran out of things to say somewhere in the middle of this, her second, CD. But what a voice. Again, a common sentiment well expressed. It's a fragile, domestic pleasure like wrapping your hands around a warm cup of tea or like a Mary Cassat painting of a mother and her daughter. Some people hate this sort of thing, I wonder why.
New Soul Yael Naïm
I'm not sure this needs explaining. I love that she is clearly singing in a language foreign to her: "this is a happy end" instead of "this is a happy ending".
Goodnight Moon Shivaree
A bit of a cheat as this was released in 1999 but I heard it in 2000 so there. Fragility again but with dark erotic undertones.
Time Emilie Clepper
No video link for this either. It's a dialogue with Time. The opening line, "Time says don't you worry, I will take care of you." We should worry.
Alexandra Leaving Leonard Cohen
A good Quebecois boy Mr. Cohen. He probably should have given Cavafy a shared credit for the lyrics. It's about love, sex, betrayal and a hint of redemption. Just about all Cohen's songs are about those things.
Holes to Heaven Jack Johnson
A song that gives a real feel for mixed feelings of a first world tourist in the third world.
Drops of Jupiter Train
His mother died and he wrote a song about her. When they realized that the song might be a hit, they changed the lyrics a bit so it wasn't obvious that it was a boy mourning his mother. That gives it that haunting quality of being clearly about something that you can't quite pin down. Now that you know the truth, you can listen to it again and think about her. Everybody's mother dies but that doesn't diminish the terrible universe-altering importance of the event when it happens to you.
L'amour est un tricheur Caracol
Literally, love is a cheater. She can't mean it; she sounds too happy. The third song in the list to feature an ukulele making the ukulele the instrument of the decade.
Quelqu'un m'a dit Carla Bruni
Okay, she was born not only beautiful but also a multi-billionaire. She became a supermodel, had an affair with Mick Jagger, took up music as a second career and sold millions of copies (like she needed more success), then she married the French president. Even her own sister appears to dislike her given the way she chose to portray her in this (brilliant) movie.
But let's forget about all that and listen to the song. It starts off with a reference to a very famous French poem written for a daughter who died early, "And Rose, who had but the life of a rose." Our life doesn't amount to much, it passes quickly, time callously spins our regrets and sadness into yarn and makes coats out of them (I'm not doing the poetry justice).
But it's alright because someone told me you still love me. There is still hope then.
And that is it. Except, who could possibly love me that way? She doesn't say and can't even remember who told her, a voice in the night, veiled, she can't quite see who said it.
All love songs promise too much. Ain't no mountain high enough? Well, there is really, also valleys deep enough and rivers wide enough and no we may not always have one another. There are lots of things that can come between us. And even if we do everything right, death will. And yet this love song promises hope.
So who is he? Never mind what Bruni did or didn't mean the song to be about, who does it have to be about to make sense? Who could he possibly be that the mere fact that he continues to love me is enough to give me hope?
I know, some won't want to go there but who else could he be? Who else could promise that much?
Why should anyone listen to me or care what I think?
No reason that I can think of.
I don't even go about studying popular music in any serious way. When I look at other people's best-of lists my reaction is that I've never heard of most of the songs or artists listed.
These are songs that jumped out at me and then stuck. My one and only Serpentine One was listening to these along with me last night. I hadn't told her what the songs had in common, why I had assembled them, I just played them and she commented that these songs are all very sing alongable. That they certainly are and that is probably what caught my attention about them all in the first place.
Why did they stick? Good question. They have something in common philosophically speaking but I can't quite say what it is but, whatever it is, fragility is an important part of it. But rather than try and figure out what that is, here they are (in no particular order):
Mirador Fredric Gary Comeau
I couldn't find a video link on line for tis one. "Mirador" means tower or watchtower and the song works over the the already overworked theme of being in love with someone distant and unreachable in their lonely tower. It's glory lies entirely in the way it makes the most of the word "Mirador" which, in it's French pronunciation, is one of those words that feels very good in your mouth. If you can listen without singing along there is something wrong with you.
Find My Way Back Home Priscilla Ahn
This is so warm, so human, so fragile, so perfect. As near as I can tell, she can open her mouth and sing like this any time she wants.
Hang On Little Tomato Pink Martini
An ordinary enough sentiment, as, again, all these songs are, but expressed so wonderfully. Having a clarinet introduce the melody line sure doesn't hurt.
Butterfly Nets Bishop Allen
If your mother loved you this should be pretty self evident. If she didn't, listening to this could help make up for that a little bit.
The Prettiest Thing Norah Jones
Okay, everybody hates Norah nowadays. Even I have to admit that she ran out of things to say somewhere in the middle of this, her second, CD. But what a voice. Again, a common sentiment well expressed. It's a fragile, domestic pleasure like wrapping your hands around a warm cup of tea or like a Mary Cassat painting of a mother and her daughter. Some people hate this sort of thing, I wonder why.
New Soul Yael Naïm
I'm not sure this needs explaining. I love that she is clearly singing in a language foreign to her: "this is a happy end" instead of "this is a happy ending".
Goodnight Moon Shivaree
A bit of a cheat as this was released in 1999 but I heard it in 2000 so there. Fragility again but with dark erotic undertones.
Time Emilie Clepper
No video link for this either. It's a dialogue with Time. The opening line, "Time says don't you worry, I will take care of you." We should worry.
Alexandra Leaving Leonard Cohen
A good Quebecois boy Mr. Cohen. He probably should have given Cavafy a shared credit for the lyrics. It's about love, sex, betrayal and a hint of redemption. Just about all Cohen's songs are about those things.
Holes to Heaven Jack Johnson
A song that gives a real feel for mixed feelings of a first world tourist in the third world.
Drops of Jupiter Train
His mother died and he wrote a song about her. When they realized that the song might be a hit, they changed the lyrics a bit so it wasn't obvious that it was a boy mourning his mother. That gives it that haunting quality of being clearly about something that you can't quite pin down. Now that you know the truth, you can listen to it again and think about her. Everybody's mother dies but that doesn't diminish the terrible universe-altering importance of the event when it happens to you.
L'amour est un tricheur Caracol
Literally, love is a cheater. She can't mean it; she sounds too happy. The third song in the list to feature an ukulele making the ukulele the instrument of the decade.
Quelqu'un m'a dit Carla Bruni
Okay, she was born not only beautiful but also a multi-billionaire. She became a supermodel, had an affair with Mick Jagger, took up music as a second career and sold millions of copies (like she needed more success), then she married the French president. Even her own sister appears to dislike her given the way she chose to portray her in this (brilliant) movie.
But let's forget about all that and listen to the song. It starts off with a reference to a very famous French poem written for a daughter who died early, "And Rose, who had but the life of a rose." Our life doesn't amount to much, it passes quickly, time callously spins our regrets and sadness into yarn and makes coats out of them (I'm not doing the poetry justice).
But it's alright because someone told me you still love me. There is still hope then.
And that is it. Except, who could possibly love me that way? She doesn't say and can't even remember who told her, a voice in the night, veiled, she can't quite see who said it.
All love songs promise too much. Ain't no mountain high enough? Well, there is really, also valleys deep enough and rivers wide enough and no we may not always have one another. There are lots of things that can come between us. And even if we do everything right, death will. And yet this love song promises hope.
So who is he? Never mind what Bruni did or didn't mean the song to be about, who does it have to be about to make sense? Who could he possibly be that the mere fact that he continues to love me is enough to give me hope?
I know, some won't want to go there but who else could he be? Who else could promise that much?
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