I was watching this short animation voiced by Jeff Tweedy and it reminded me of my own musical journey from hating my father’s easy listening music to coming around to appreciating the craft, universality and power of those old songs.

Some weekends I find myself listening to Radio 4 on a Saturday morning when the show Saturday Live plays its segment called ‘Inheritance Tracks’. The idea of this segment is a little like Desert Island Discs — guests first choose a piece of music that they ‘inherited’ and is special for them. They also choose a second track that they cherish and would like to bequeath to future generations.

It’s an interesting challenge and a while back I thought about what music was passed to me and what I would pass on to my children.

When I was young person I hated most of the music that was played in my home. My father didn’t have a huge collection of records and most of them were what we would now call ‘easy listening’, basically popular music from the 1950s through to the 1960s. Just occasionally a track would hook me because it was different from the run-of-the-mill sounds of Tin Pan Alley. One such song was It Was a Very Good Year sung by Frank Sinatra. In this song the singer looks back fondly on the romances throughout his life and remembers how each phase was a very good year, like a vintage wine, culminating in a life as aged wine from fine old kegs. It always struck me that there’s a story to this song and the lyrics stand alone, like poetry. This song will always take me back to those times and fond memories of parents who are no longer alive.

The song I would pass on to the next generation is Brickbat by Billy Bragg, a reflection on how one’s life changes and dreams and ambitions settle down for something more domestic but equally satisfying. This is a song that proves that songs don’t have to be about big things, and the lyrics cleverly contrast images such as walking down the aisle for a wedding and walking down the supermarket aisle together as a couple. I’ve never heard a song that captures the pleasures of getting to know one’s young children as well as this.

I steal a kiss from you in the supermarket
I walk you down the aisle, you fill my basket
And through it all, the stick I take is worth it for the love we make

I used to want to plant bombs at the last night of the proms
But now you’ll find me with the baby, in the bathroom,
With that big shell, listening for the sound of the sea,
The baby and me

3 thoughts on “đŸŽ” Transformative Power of Music

  1. Its funny – everything that Billy is and stands for and writes about – such a big fan – but still just can’t sit down and enjoy listening to him. My failing – almost certainly. Nice generational connection runing through the post … thankyou.

  2. A thought comes to mind after reading something written by @BestofTimes. The power of music is complex.
    Listening to a certain song again, even if you’ve never liked it, is surely worth it when it evokes fond memories from your past – so much so, you just might grow to appreciate the song itself and what it meant to someone you love and miss.

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