Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was just 17 years old when he wrote this. Let that sink in for a moment. It’s hard to imagine the kind of beauty that must have stirred in him as he composed it – something almost sacred in its feeling. There’s a sense of exuberance, anticipation, and lightness that reflects his youth.
A lot of classical music can sound serious and weighty, but Mozart’s work can often feel bright, spirited, and radiant. You can picture him writing this, full of energy and excitement. It has a light, almost chamber-like style, yet there is still an impulsive drive behind it.
Symphony No. 29 is one of Mozart’s better-known early symphonies. It also appears in the Amadeus film, which is where I first heard it. Just about every piece from that soundtrack has found its way into my music library – it remains my favourite film soundtrack, as I’ve mentioned many times.
The film itself sits at No. 1 on my Favourite Movies List. It goes without saying that Mozart features here more than any other classical composer.
According to Wikipedia:
The symphony is scored for two oboes, two horns (in A, with the second movement in D), and strings. The first movement is in sonata form, with a graceful main theme marked by an octave drop and strong horn passages.
At 17, Mozart was working as a musician at the Salzburg court, but he was already growing restless and travelled in search of better opportunities. One reason was his low salary – about 150 florins a year. He also longed to compose operas, and Salzburg offered only limited chances to do so.
When you think that you’ve lost everything You find out you can always lose a little more
Welcome back to another music article on a Bob Dylan song. I’ve got to hand it to my small readership who have stayed along for the ride on this project so far – they’ll be well used to hearing about Dylan here time and again. When I was living in Melbourne in the early 2000s, I went on an eBay binge buying Bob Dylan memorabilia, mostly “still sealed” new LPs. I now have somewhere around 30, which my mother in Australia still looks after.
On the odd occasion I really splurged and bought other items, such as the “certified authentic” signature of the maestro shown above. Whether that signature is the real deal or made by a backwater schemer who forges signatures for a living in some Los Angeles basement akin to clandestine dives in Punch Drunk Love – well your guess is better than mine. I definitely didn’t take Dylan’s advice when I bought it: “Keep a good head and always carry a light bulb.”
Where am I going with this? Well, that photo of Dylan you see above was on the back of his widely praised “comeback to form” album Time Out of Mind (1997), for which he won three Grammy Awards, including Album of the Year. Today’s featured song, “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven,” comes from that record and is one of my favourites on it.
I remember clearly where I was when I first heard Time Out of Mind. I was living with an old Academy friend, Kevin, in a run-down house in the Canberra suburb of Dickson. One day I was just “lamping,” as Leon calls it on Curb Your Enthusiasm, by the fireplace and listened to the whole album. The song that struck me most was Not Dark Yet which I wrote about back in September 2023, but Tryin’ to Get to Heaven has only grown on me with each listen.
I really connect with these moody but highly evocative lyrics, set against a bouncy, bluesy rhythm. And a big shout-out to Dylan’s harmonica solo, which closes the song. It’s a real gem. Not long after recording this album, Dylan suffered a serious heart infection (histoplasmosis) that was close to fatal, but thankfully he recovered – and he’s still performing at the ripe old age of 84. I still read his setlists and audience reviews whenever they appear.
It almost feels as if, in making this record, he was sensing that brush with mortality and facing it head-on. No young person could have written this song – not even a young Bob Dylan. There are years of hard living in it. As critics have noted: like Not Dark Yet, it points toward the idea of redemption in the afterlife. He has travelled “all around the world” and, in the song’s unforgettable refrain, is “trying to get to heaven before they close the door.”
[Verse 1] The air is getting hotter There’s a rumbling in the skies I’ve been wading through the high muddy water With the heat rising in my eyes Every day your memory grows dimmer It doesn’t haunt me like it did before I’ve been walking through the middle of nowhere Trying to get to heaven before they close the door
[Verse 2] When I was in Missouri They would not let me be I had to leave there in a hurry I only saw what they let me see You broke a heart that loved you Now you can seal up the book and not write anymore I’ve been walking that lonesome valley Trying to get to heaven before they close the door
[Verse 3] People on the platforms Waiting for the trains I can hear their hearts a-beatin’ Like pendulums swinging on chains When you think that you’ve lost everything You find out you can always lose a little more I’m just going down the road feeling bad Trying to get to heaven before they close the door
[Verse 4] I’m going down the river Down to New Orleans They tell me everything is gonna be all right But I don’t know what “all right” even means I was riding in a buggy with Miss Mary-Jane Miss Mary-Jane got a house in Baltimore I been all around the world, boys Now I’m trying to get to heaven before they close the door
[Verse 5] Gonna sleep down in the parlor And relive my dreams I’ll close my eyes and I wonder If everything is as hollow as it seems Some trains don’t pull no gamblers No midnight ramblers like they did before I been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down Now I’m trying to get to heaven before they close the door
Here is Tom Waits at his murky, gloomy best and that suits me just fine. As an astute listener on SongMeanings put it, each of the verses in How’s It Gonna End seems like fragments of film plots, and we all want to know how each will end. He just leaves them out there, hanging like vignettes without resolution. So there’s that on one level.
Then on an existential level, we want to know how each of us, as individuals, will meet our demise – a morbid fascination, if you will. And if that wasn’t enough, because of the apocalyptic tone that pervades it, we also want to know how the world is going to end.
There are sometimes faint connections between the verses, like the father seeking revenge in the third verse for his little girl who disappeared in the second. But it’s never made clear, and some share the fate of “drowning” at the hands of miscreants and evil deeds – not that they didn’t have it coming. Also, while the song’s stories may not feel like they have a sense of closure, there is one theme that is resolute: death cannot be undone – its finality is stark.
“You can never go back, and the answer is no, and the wishing for it only makes it bleed.”
Tom is wickedly good here. You can see why Tom Waits is regarded as one of the great contemporary storytellers in song. I’ve always felt that through his music – the images he conjures – there’s a tinny, oxidised quality, like a wrecking yard where everything is worn down and left exposed. It can get pretty dirty. I love the grittiness and raw energy of it.
How’s It Gonna End is from his 16th studio album Real Gone (2004). Real Gone and Rain Dogs are often cited by fans among his best work. Real Gone was written and produced by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan, his wife and long-time collaborator. The album reached No. 27 in Australia and No. 28 on the US Billboard charts.
[Verse 1] He had three whole dollars, a worn-out car And a wife who was leaving for good Life’s made of trouble, worry, pain, and struggle She wrote goodbye in the dust on the hood They found a map of Missouri, lipstick on the glass They must’ve left in the middle of the night
[Chorus] And I want to know the same thing Everyone wants to know How’s it going to end?
[Verse 2] Behind a smoke-colored curtain, the girl disappeared They found out that the ring was a fake A tree born crooked will never grow straight She sunk like a hammer into the lake A long lost letter and an old leaky boat Promises are never meant to keep
[Chorus] And I want to know the same thing I want to know How’s it going to end?
[Verse 3] The barn leaned over, the vultures dried their wings The moon climbed up an empty sky The sun sank down behind the tree on the hill There’s a killer and he’s coming through the rye But maybe he’s the father of that lost little girl It’s hard to tell in this light
[Chorus] And I want to know the same thing Everyone wants to know How’s it going to end?
[Bridge] Drag your wagon and your plow over the bones of the dead Out among the roses and the weeds You can never go back and the answer is no And wishing for it only makes it bleed
[Verse 4] Joel Tornabene was broken on the wheel Shane and Bum Mahoney on the lam The grain was as gold as Sheila’s hair All the way from Liverpool with all we could steal He was robbed of twenty dollars, his body found stripped Cast into the harbor there and drowned
[Chorus] And I want to know the same thing We all want to know How’s it going to end?
[Verse 5] The sirens are snaking their way up the hill It’s last call somewhere in the world The reptiles blend in with the color of the street Life is sweet at the edge of a razor And down in the first row of on old picture show The old man is asleep as the credits start to roll
[Chorus] And I want to know the same thing We all want to know How’s it going to end?
[Chorus] I want to know the same thing We all want to know How’s it going to end?
[Chorus] And then I just want to know the same thing I want to know How’s it going to end?
Gordon Lightfoot’s specific wish was for his song “A Passing Ship” to be played at his funeral.
I have a real penchant for songs and stories about ships and the sea, and this one by Gordon Lightfoot ticks all the right boxes – and then some. His strong, native Orillia, Ontario accent grounds the romantic storytelling, and when it combines with that open-to-the-wind, free-sailing ambience, it creates such a pure and aesthetic listening experience. It really puts you there, as if you’re about to set sail and embark on a quest of exploration and surrender to wherever the winds may take you.
The song also feels like a homage to seafaring ventures of the past – those told in books and songs that still captivate the senses and stir a sense of wonder about what lies far beyond the horizon, in that great unknown. When I served in the Navy as a young and impressionable person, with my future ahead of me, I often remained largely ignorant – obfuscated even (as we all were) – of what lay ahead on our journey.
So now, when I hear songs like “A Passing Ship”, I find it difficult, with time under my belt, not to feel overly sentimental and nostalgic. The experience of being at sea, as described in this song, is not just part of my own history – it also serves as a metaphor for the uncertainty and bewilderment of youth, with life still stretching out before you. It can feel disconcerting, but exhilarating at the same time.
If you’ll forgive me for getting a little trippy – my favourite part in the whole song, comes in the third line of the second verse (at 0:55 exactly), where he sings “How many ships”, followed by that very short instrumental phrase. It absolutely blew me away. Allow me to explain.
It’s like when you catch a scent that suddenly transports you to another time and place – a common enough phenomenon. That brief instrumental passage sent me straight to the introduction of an incredible cover of “Song to the Siren” by Tim Buckley, which ranks among the greatest ballads I’ve ever heard. And what’s more – lo and behold – it too is a romantic piece set against the imagery of ships and the sea.
So that fleeting instrumental moment in Gordon’s song carried me into a kind of romantic, transcendent recall – right into the opening of Paul Charlier & Paula Arundell’s version of “Song to Siren”. I’d be curious to know if anyone else hears that connection as well.
[Verse 1] A passing ship I have found the open ocean Give me no lip The waves roll by as I press on A sunlit sea On the first day in April How fresh the wind Will you miss me when I’m gone?
[Verse 2] How many words How many songs still unwritten? How many ships Of the line have come and gone In the good old days? May they never be forgotten They had heavy wind Or they had no wind at all
[Verse 3] A passing ship It is midnight on the ocean Had a real long trip I have been at sea all winter When my ship came in I was giving up the ghost I think I should be Leaving those passing ships alone
[Verse 4] When the sea runs high The sea runs wild and I’m unsteady And I think of you In the warmth of your home and family When love is true There is no truer occupation And may this gale Blow us to the ones we love
[Verse 5] Another day Another ocean Give me no lip But stand aside as I press on A sunlit sea On the last day in October How fresh the wind Will you miss me from now on? I guess I should be Leaving passing ships alone
Sometimes we’ll sigh…Sometimes we’ll cry…And we’ll know why…Just you and I…Know true love ways.
Since I was a youngen’, I always found True Love Ways to be such a tender and sweet song from Buddy. The orchestral sound was also quite a departure for him from his usual rocker numbers. What makes it all the more memorable and touching is that it was recorded just a few months prior to his death in that plane crash on February 3, 1959 – “the day the music died,” as it later became known.
This love song, True Love Ways, was also recorded in the presence of Buddy’s wife, Maria Elena Holly. The story goes that only hours after they met, Buddy proposed to Maria Elena Santiago at P.J. Clarke’s in New York on June 20, 1958. Holly’s widow later claimed that the song was written for her as a wedding gift.
His intonation and inflections of voice here are really interesting too – the way he elongates certain words, sometimes slightly off pitch, but in a way that feels natural and expressive. It still carries a hint of his usual vocal hiccups and stutters, though not as pronounced as on faster tempo songs like Rave On.
On 21st October, 1958, in his last ever recording session, Buddy worked with the Dick Jacobs Orchestra on the 4 songs: True Love Ways, It Doesn’t Matter Anymore, Moondreams, and Raining in My Heart. True Love Ways was first released on the posthumous album The Buddy Holly Story, Vol. 2 in March 1960.
[Verse 1] Just you know why Why you and I Will by and by Know true love ways
[Chorus] Sometimes we’ll sigh Sometimes we’ll cry And we’ll know why Just you and I Know true love ways
[Verse 2] Throughout the days Our true love ways Will bring us joys to share With those who really care
Basket Case is a high-energy, frenetic punk rock song that matches well with the nervous and restless feeling in the lyrics. My favourite part of the song is the chord change from D to A at the end of the second and fourth lines of the verses. It leaves the music hanging, almost like a question. This feels like a signature sound in Green Day’s music, and in alternative rock more generally.
Basket Case is about lead singer and guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong’s struggles with anxiety. Before he was diagnosed with a panic disorder, he thought he was going crazy. He first tried writing it as a love song while he was using crystal meth, but he later found those lyrics embarrassing after he sobered up.
He rewrote the song based on his experiences with panic attacks, saying, “The only way I could know what the hell was going on was to write a song about it,” and that it was “probably the best decision I ever made as a songwriter.” The music video was filmed in an abandoned mental institution in California. It’s amusing at the start, when a nurse helps Green Day bassist Mike Dirnt to the microphone stand.
The song was released as the second single from the band’s third studio album, Dookie (1994). It spent five weeks at number one on the US Billboard Alternative Songs chart. It is often named as one of Green Day’s best songs and was ranked number 150 on Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Songs of All Time.”
Do you have the time to listen to me whine About nothin’ and everything all at once? I am one of those melodramatic fools Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it
[Chorus] Sometimes, I give myself the creeps Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up I think I’m cracking up Am I just paranoid? Am I just stoned?
I went to a shrink to analyze my dreams She says it’s lack of sex that’s bringin’ me down I went to a whore, he said my life’s a bore So quit my whinin’ ’cause it’s bringin’ her down
[Chorus] Sometimes, I give myself the creeps Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up I think I’m cracking up Am I just paranoid? Uh-yuh-yuh-yuh (Ooh, ooh)
[Bridge] Grasping to control So I better hold on
[Chorus] Sometimes, I give myself the creeps Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up I think I’m cracking up Am I just paranoid? Am I just stoned?
I fondly recall this song being used in the movie About a Boy. None of the versions there feature the stunning, natural soul singer Roberta Flack. Instead, it’s used for both comedic and dramatic effect, like in this this scene.
In the video below, we see the late Roberta Flack perform Killing Me Softly With His Song. I agree with many viewers’ comments about the class on display:
Just a woman and a microphone. No theatrics, no gaudy outfits, no big band, no choir, no fireworks. Just a pure voice and real talent.
Roberta Flack passed away in February 2025. Many people describe her as a true professional, and her voice was just as good live as it was on record. Flack credited her success to her classical training. She was a gifted piano student in her teens, but later changed her focus from piano to voice during her studies.
“My classical background made it possible for me to try a number of things with [Killing Me Softly’s arrangement]”
The backstory to Killing Me Softly With His Song is quite involved, but also one of the most fascinating I’ve come across. So here goes:
The original version was recorded by Lori Lieberman (image inset). She was inspired after seeing Don McLean perform at the Troubadour in Los Angeles. One song in particular, Empty Chairs, moved her deeply. She wrote down her thoughts on a napkin during the performance. Later, she shared these ideas with songwriter Norman Gimbel. As she described the feeling of “a singer reaching deep inside her world with his song,” Gimbel was reminded of a phrase he had written earlier: “killing me softly with his blues.”
Gimbel fleshed out Lieberman’s notes into lyrics and passed them to composer Charles Fox, who set them to music. Fox and Gimbel had signed Lieberman into a management contract in which they would write her songs and manage her career, and take 20% of her income. Also, Gimbel, despite being twice her age and married was having an affair with Lieberman.
I’m surprised Lori Lieberman’s original didn’t do anything – it didn’t even chart, but it’s just so beautiful. She is really living in that song and not just singing it. Her voice has shades of Barbra Streisand and Anne Murray. Roberta Flack heard it on a flight and was so impressed she jotted down notes and as soon as she landed she called Quincy Jones. 2 days later she had the music.
When Flack released her recording, it became a massive hit. It reached No. 1 in the United States (where it stayed for five weeks), as well as in Australia and Canada, and reached No. 6 in the UK.
What’s so sad and seems unjust is Lori Lieberman was denied writing credit by Fox and Gimbel who later earned the Song of the Year Grammy. In a 2020 interview, Lieberman said she was not seeking money or official credit. She simply wanted people to understand the true origin of the song.
In 1996, the Fugees recorded their version with Lauryn Hill on lead vocals. Their take on the song was also a huge success, reaching No. 1 in twenty countries.
[Chorus] Strummin’ my pain with his fingers Singin’ my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Tellin’ my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song
[Verse 1] I heard he sang a good song I heard he had a style And so I came to see him To listen for a while And there he was, this young boy A stranger to my eyes
[Chorus]
[Verse 2] I felt all flushed with fever Embarrassed by the crowd I felt he found my letters And read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish But he just kept right on
[Chorus]
[Verse 3] He sang as if he knew me In all my dark despair And then he looked right through me As if I wasn’t there And he just kept on singin’ Singin’ clear and strong
True Blue is a brutally honest look at a relationship, but it is sung with tenderness and warmth in Lucy Dacus’ laidback voice. The phrase “true blue” means loyalty and faithfulness, not sadness. The song moves through the highs and lows of a relationship. It is not always easy, but as Lucy suggests, it feels good to be known so well.
The storytelling is strong and full of vivid images. Some lines even raise a wry smile because of how blunt they are, like “You say you’re a winter bitch” and “You f&ck around and find out.” That kind of direct language, instead of soft and overly romantic words, feels refreshing and real.
boygenius (stylized in lowercase) is an American indie rock supergroup. They first appeared with their self-titled EP in 2018, then returned after a break with their debut album The Record (2023), which includes “True Blue.”
The Record was both a critical and commercial success. It won three Grammy Awards and also received a Brit Award. The album reached number one in the UK, Ireland, and the Netherlands, and peaked at number four on the U.S. Billboard chart. On March 30, 2023, boygenius released The Film, a short promotional film featuring the songs “$20,” “Emily I’m Sorry” and “True Blue.”
The group is currently on hiatus although the vocalist below Lucy Dacus currently resides in Los Angeles with her partner, fellow boygenius bandmate Julien Baker.
The video below shot by Kristen Stewart captures the mutual love and heartfelt connection between these three women. It transitions towards the end from Lucy kissing Phoebe to kissing Julien.
You said you wanted to feel alive So we went to the beach You were born in July ’95 In a deadly heat You say you’re a winter bitch But summer’s in your blood You can’t help but become the sun
When you moved to Chicago You were spinnin’ out When you don’t know who you are You fuck around and find out When you called me from the train Water freezin’ in your eyes You were happy and I wasn’t surprised
[Chorus] And it feels good to be known so well I can’t hide from you like I hide from myself
Now you’re movin’ in Breakin’ a sweat on your upper lip And gettin’ pissed about humidity And the leaky faucet You already hurt my feelings three times In the way only you could
[Chorus] But it feels good to be known so well I can’t hide from you like I hide from myself I remember who I am when I’m with you Your love is tough, your love is tried and true-blue Blue
You’ve never done me wrong, except for that one time That we don’t talk about Because it doesn’t matter anymore Who won the fight? I don’t know We’re not keeping score
In the introduction to today’s song in the video below, an older Leonard Cohen sits outside on a front patio, smoking a cigarette. He says, “I feel a lot stronger, but I am actually a lot weaker,” which is quite poignant when you consider Traveling Light comes from Leonard’s last record, You Want It Darker (image inset), released just 17 days before he passed away.
To lighten it up a bit – I was imagining myself as a local resident, right there above looking onto Cohen’s house (if it were his residence), and wondering: when playing Leonard Cohen’s music – which I often do – would I feel the need to keep it down, or instead an incessant urge to just blast it out and then go onto the front lawn yelling, “Heck Leonard, love ya man – woohoo – yeah!” I probably wouldn’t have been a very tranquil Leonard Cohen neighbour.
I love Leonard Cohen’s last album. I found myself upset for a long time when I learnt of his passing. He is one of the few artists who you think will always be around; will always be the person to whisper in your ear and then when you hear these ‘departure’ tracks, it puts a lot into perspective.
As an astute commentator put it in the video below: ‘You tried poetry, you mastered it. You tried drawing, you mastered it. You tried songwriting and making music, you mastered it again. Thank you Leonard. You are a true Master of Art. We miss you everyday‘.
One thing that also struck me is when Leonard reflected on his life as a Buddhist monk in this interview. He spoke about the simplicity of life at the monastery, describing it as “a voluptuous sense of economy.” He then distilled the writing process like this: “you have to sit there in the bonfire of that distress… and sit there till you’re burnt away… it’s like rummaging through your pockets to see what you can work with“.
Traveling Light is another goodbye song on the record – or, as he puts it, an “au revoir” on an album that is really about departure, reconciliation, and coming to terms. It’s lovely that he co-wrote this song with his son, Adam Cohen, and got to share it with him. He seems to have let go of his baggage, his hang-ups, even much of the ego – the fear of death feels diminished. That’s what comes through across the whole record: resolution and surrender, like on the title track where he says, “I’m ready, my Lord.”
Due to fractures of the spine, You Want It Darker was recorded in the living room of Leonard Cohen’s home in Mid-Wilshire, Los Angeles and then sent by e-mail to his musical collaborators. His son, Adam Cohen recalled that “occasionally, in bouts of joy, he would even, through his pain, stand up in front of the speakers, and we’d repeat a song over and over like teenagers“.
[Verse 1] I’m traveling light, it’s au revoir My once so bright, my fallen star I’m running late, they’ll close the bar I used to play one mean guitar I guess I’m just somebody who Has given up on the me and you I’m not alone, I’ve met a few Traveling light, like we used to do
[Refrain] La la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la la
[Verse 2] Good night, good night, my fallen star I guess you’re right, you always are I know you’re right about the blues You live some life you’d never choose I’m just a fool, a dreamer who Forgot to dream of the me and you I’m not alone, I’ve met a few Traveling light, like we used to do
[Refrain] La la la la la la la La la la la la la la La la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la la
[Verse 3] Traveling light, it’s au revoir My once so bright, my fallen star I’m running late, they’ll close the bar I used to play one mean guitar I guess I’m just somebody who Has given up on the me and you I’m not alone, I’ve met a few Traveling light, like we used to do
[Outro] But if the road leads back to you Must I forget the things I knew When I was friends with one or two Traveling light, like we used to do I’m traveling light
[Refrain] La la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la la
I went on a David Bowie bender yesterday, listening to and sharing some of my favourite songs. Then today’s featured track came on at the end of one of them, and I found myself wondering – how on earth is this not already in my collection? So I’m making amends and adding Starman to my music library project. Better late than never.
If you had asked me as a young adult whether I would ever immerse myself in the music of David Bowie, I would have told you – ‘you were dreaming’. But as I was telling Steve (@ Song of the Day for Today) only yesterday, I’m a real latecomer to Bowie. It’s only over the last decade or so that I’ve come to appreciate his music more and more. Now I finally understand what all the fuss was about (slaps head).
Steve, on the other hand, knew exactly what the fuss was about from the beginning. He even saw Bowie at the height of his Ziggy Stardust fame in 1973 while visiting family in Liverpool. You can read more about Steve’s experience in the comments section of this post which leads us nicely onto Starman.
Today’s song is a good example of how my musical tastes have changed, especially when it comes to Bowie. I had probably heard Starman countless times growing up, but it never really grabbed me. It has always been all over the radio and deeply rooted in pop culture, yet only now do I find myself genuinely fond of it.
When I listen to Bowie’s music, I see him more as a theatrical entertainer than a proto singer-songwriter. He played characters, and that is nowhere more evident than in his Ziggy Stardust persona.
I saw an interview documentary about him on the Film and Arts channel a few years back (twice!), and I found him to be an eloquent and articulate speaker. There are few singer-songwriters I enjoy listening to interpret their own music, but David Bowie is definitely one of the exceptions. I’ll never forget how he said, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t consider himself much of a singer. Instead, he shaped his voice to suit the character he was portraying on stage, bringing each persona to life.
His career was defined by constant reinvention, along with a strong focus on visual style and presentation. Both his music and stagecraft have had a lasting and powerful impact on popular music in Western culture.
The following was abridged from the Wikipedia article below:
Starman was the lead single from David Bowie’s fifth studio album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. The song was a late addition to the album, written as a direct response to RCA’s request for a single. The lyrics describe Ziggy Stardust bringing a message of hope to Earth’s youth through the radio, salvation by an alien “Starman“. The chorus is inspired by “Over the Rainbow“, sung by Judy Garland.
Following Bowie’s performance of the song on the BBC television programme Top of the Pops, the song reached number 10 on the UK Singles Chart and helped propel the album to number five. It was his first major hit since Space Oddity three years earlier. The performance made Bowie a star and was watched by a large audience, including many future musicians, who were all affected by it; these included Siouxsie Sioux, Bono, Robert Smith, Boy George and Morrissey. Retrospectively, the song is considered by music critics as one of Bowie’s finest.
[Intro] Hey now, now Goodbye, love
[Verse 1] Didn’t know what time it was; the lights were low I leaned back on my radio Some cat was layin’ down some rock ‘n’ roll, “Lotta soul,” he said Then the loud sound did seem to fade Came back like a slow voice on a wave of phase That weren’t no DJ, that was hazy cosmic jive
[Chorus] There’s a starman waitin’ in the sky He’d like to come and meet us But he thinks he’d blow our minds There’s a starman waitin’ in the sky He’s told us not to blow it ‘Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile
[Post-Chorus] He told me “Let the children lose it Let the children use it Let all the children boogie”
[Verse 2] I had to phone someone, so I picked on you Hey, that’s far out, so you heard him too Switch on the TV, we may pick him up on Channel Two Look out your window, I can see his light If we can sparkle, he may land tonight Don’t tell your poppa, or he’ll get us locked up in fright
[Chorus] There’s a starman waitin’ in the sky He’d like to come and meet us But he thinks he’d blow our minds There’s a starman waitin’ in the sky He’s told us not to blow it ‘Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile
[Post-Chorus] He told me “Let the children lose it Let the children use it Let all the children boogie”
[Chorus] Starman waitin’ in the sky He’d like to come and meet us But he thinks he’d blow our minds There’s a starman waitin’ in the sky He’s told us not to blow it ‘Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile
[Post-Chorus] He told me “Let the children lose it Let the children use it Let all the children boogie”
Observation Blogger 