Friday, June 03, 2005

life needs a soundtrack

(long mellow prelude)

baby, I see this world has made you sad
some people can be bad
the things they do, the things they say
but baby, i'll wipe away those bitter tears
i'll chase away those restless fears
and turn your blue skies into gray

why worry
there should be laughter after pain
there should be sunshine after rain
these things have always been the same
so why worry now
why worry now

baby, when i get down i turn to you
you make sense of what i do
and all it isn't hard to say
but baby, just when this world seems mean and cold
our love comes shining red and gold
and all the rest is by the way

why worry
there should be laughter after pain
there should be sunshine after rain
these things have always been the same
so why worry now
why worry now

(long mellow postlude, at some point the drummer wakes up)

Dire Straits, "Why Worry Now." I don't expect any of you to get what this song is for me. It's a piece of history. For awhile the only way I could sleep at night was to down a melatonin and put this song on repeat. That lasted about 6 months, maybe longer, and still, whenever I feel inextricably sad, I put this on. The song itself isn't profound. Just putting the words up doesn't really communicate. But there's something mesmerizing in it, something that doesn't offend by negating the sadness but sweeps it up and carries it.

During the insomniac phase I had a crisis. I was supposed to go to HUF and leave my cd player with its repeat button and go live in a villa and share a bedroom with 6 girls. How would I sleep? This was a problem. I was more dependent than ever on my song because I was trying to wean myself off the melatonin (Mom freaked out about it and, despite what she may tell you, I've always tried to make my mother happy). So my friend Ben recorded the song on both sides of a single-track cassette tape, and bought me a new Walkman that would automatically reverse and play all night long (as long as I had the battery power). I could listen to it in the villa on my top bunk, and I could listen to it on the many overnight trains. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me.

So this is my recommendation for Joe. He asked for a song, not too fast or slow or too perky or preachy. This may be a bit mellow, but the drummer does wake up at the end.

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