The Shins’ most recent album, Port of Morrow, is chock full of excellent songs about a wide and fascinating range of topics. One in particular, ‘Fall of ’82,’ stands out for me because it’s an ode to singer-songwriter James Mercer’s older sister.
These lyrics remind me very much of my relationship with my own sister, who was always my first and best confidant. It’s a relationship I see mirrored in her own children, who are also five years apart, a younger brother and older sister.
I’m entering my second week of songs that have personal meaning for me — a quality that is extremely rare in the music I listen to. Tellingly, many of these songs aren’t particular favorites of mine… the personal connection clearly isn’t that important when it comes to my enjoyment and appreciation of good music.
Last week’s songs all focused on the life cycle of a relationship… from adolescent romance through marriage, kids and ultimately death. This week’s songs are less unified in theme but they do seem to share a certain melancholy (surprise!) quality and most of them deal with some combination of nostalgia and regret.
Here’s another track from TV On the Radio, who seem to have popped up a few times on recent Random Weekends. This is another cut from Dear Science, my favorite of their albums.
The appeal of TV On the Radio is the seeming incongruity between their electrified funk sound and the English major complexity of their lyrics. Today’s song is yet another metaphor-rich track that begs for in-depth analysis.
Don McLean is a special sort of one-hit wonder. For one thing, he had two hits. ‘Vincent (Starry Starry Night),’ his ode to Van Gogh, was in fact his biggest international success.
Stateside, of course, he is best known for ‘American Pie,’ a song that is not so much a hit as an iconic part of the culture. Chronicling the deaths of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper in a plane crash, the song is packed with coded imagery that serves as a tour of the 60s’ musical landscape.
This week of personal songs comes to an end with a very moving track about the end of life. Tift Merritt wrote this track from 2010’s See You On the Moon about her grandfather, who lost his wife of many decades.
I’ve obviously never faced this situation myself, but it speaks to me powerfully. One of the scariest things about being in a strong, loving relationship is the knowledge that one day one of you will leave.
Meet Me In Montauk 