The Friday Fix

Author: inertus

  • ‘Give Me Light’ – Marti West

    Gill writes:

    So it’s not a secret that I intersperse my heavy, ‘serious’ reading and film-watching with what I call ‘pink and fluffy’ books and films. In other words, narratives that are predictable, easy to watch/read and make you go ‘ahhh’ (instead of ‘arghhh’).

    It’s thanks to Netflix’s ‘Love in the Villa’ that I happened upon this song – and consequently Marti West. And I can safely say that it was definitely the most memorable thing about the film. As soon as the track started up I hit the Shazam button, half expecting it to say Sufjan Stevens but no, instead there was a new artist for me to discover – Marti West, an Italian/British musician, with a warm yet ethereal quality to his work.

    This is a track that I think fits perfectly for the last few days of Advent. It captures the ‘almost there’ sense of things. You’ve grasped something life-giving- but only just – with your fingertips. It’s so tentative and vulnerable that it could slip out of your hands in a moment if you’re not careful. You know that it’s the answer to your searching and you don’t want anything to scupper things.

    Fear may get in the way and distract you

    Fear, don’t you find me now
    Don’t you make me blind no, no
    Don’t you tie me down

    Love is so close and tangible that you daren’t lose it.

    And love, don’t you go so far
    Don’t leave me in the cold no, no
    Don’t keep me in the dark

    We’re nearly there. Tired. Worn out. Drowsy. Slouching. Nearing Bethlehem. Yearning for light in our bones.

    All along the road, give me light, give me light
    I’m tired of being alone, every night, every night
    Struck out, cold, in my fright, in my fright
    I need it in my bones, give me light, give me light

    Having faith can be so reassuring but maybe sometimes it tips into complacency. Keeping watch and being aware of where we are can be the key to glimpsing love in action.

    Faith, don’t you close my eyes
    When I don’t know where to go no, no
    Don’t take me by surprise

    Shame can be the ultimate barrier to welcoming ‘light in our bones.’

    And shame, don’t you make a sound
    Don’t you break me in no, no
    Don’t you shake me down

    We often talk about light and dark in Advent, but this year my thoughts throughout Advent have been more about warmth and cold.

    Many churches and community spaces have created Warm Places because we have fiscal and social policies that offer no warmth; our border is a ‘cold front,’ yet behind it stand thousands of people offering a warm welcome; the cold cost of living challenges us to savour the smaller, simple pleasures in life and to value community and kinship.

    So, for me, this song yearns for the warmth of love in our bones, free from fear and worry. And that’s my hope for everyone this Christmas. May you find warmth and love in the obvious and not-so-obvious places

    Come, Thou long expected Jesus
    Born to set Thy people free;
    From our fears and sins release us,
    Let us find our rest in Thee.
    Israel’s strength and consolation,
    Hope of all the earth Thou art;
    Dear desire of every nation,
    Joy of every longing heart.

    (Charles Wesley)

    Find out more about Marti West at https://www.martiwest.com/

  • ‘New Partner’ – Palace Music

    The Friday Fix is a bit different this week as the reflection has been taken from a book. I came across it in John Green’s ‘The Anthropocene Reviewed’ and thought ‘well this is surely a Friday Fix.’

    The book is a series of essays that Green wrote during 2020, and it’s a beautifully eclectic mix. I highly recommend adding it to your ‘To Be Read’ list (there’s a link below to Hive Books if you feel so inclined).

    Green writes:

    “…’New Partner’ has been my favourite song not by ‘The Mountain Goats’ for over 20 years now, but I’ve never been able to make sense of the lyrics.

    One couplet goes ‘And the loons on the moor, the fish in the flow / And my friends, my friends still will whisper hello.’ I know that means something; I just don’t know what. This is soon followed by a line, equally beautiful and baffling: ‘When you think like a hermit, you forget what you know.’

    Palace Music is one of the many incarnations of Will Oldham, who sometimes records under his own name and sometimes as the dandyish Bonnie Prince Billy. I like a lot of his songs; he sings about religion and longing and hope in ways that resonate with me, and I love how his voice often seems on the edge of cracking open.

    But ‘New Partner’ is not just a song for me. It’s a kind of magic, because it has the ability to transport me to all the moments I’ve heard that song before. For three minutes and 54 seconds, it makes me into people I used to be. Through the song, I am brought back both to heartbreak and to falling in love with enough distance to see them as something more than opposites.

    In ‘The Palace,’ Kaveh Akbar writes that ‘Art is where what we survive survives’ and I think that’s true, not only of the art we make but also of the art we love.

    Like any magic, you have to be careful with a magical song – listen to it too often, and it will become routine. You’ll hear the chord changes before they come, and the song will lose its ability to surprise and teleport you. But if I’m judicious with a magical song, it can take me back to places more vividly than any other form of memory’

    (Extract from The Anthropocene Reviewed ‘New Partner’ chapter p.257-258 (2021))

    Find out more about Will Oldham’s music at http://royalstablemusic.com/

    ‘The Anthropocene Reviewed’ by John Green – https://www.hive.co.uk/Product/John-Green/The-Anthropocene-Reviewed–The-Instant-Sunday-Times-Bestseller/25683161

  • Cousin Jack – Show of Hands

    Nigel writes:

    Cousin Jack: “John Wesley gave us a voice” – for God’s sake use it 

    Trouble is brewing – poverty, real-term pay cuts, a lack of productivity, worker shortages and a resultant cost of living crisis – are causing more and more people to have no choice but to turn to their union and vote for strike action. In the 1830’s, there was also trouble brewing. Life for workers was hard and wages were being cut.

    In Dorset, the workers decided to fight back.  In the village of Tolpuddle, six leaders of workers were arrested and sentenced to seven years transportation to Australia for taking a secret oath. A huge protest erupted which resulted in freedom for the workers and the foundation of modern-day trade unionism. The leader of the group, George Loveless, was a Methodist lay preacher. He and four of his fellow ‘Tolpuddle Martyrs’ eventually emigrated to Canada, helping build a Methodist Church at Siloam. And that brings me to my Friday Fix song … 

    I’ve long been a fan of contemporary folk band ‘Show of Hands’. I saw them in concert last month, and they ended their set with one of their most popular songs – ‘Cousin Jack’. It’s a song about miners in the days of old who left their homeland in search of better times. It’s a song that very much resonates with the former mining communities of Nottinghamshire where I saw ‘Show of Hands’ perform: 

    This land is barren and broken 
    Scarred like the face of the moon 
    Our tongue is no longer spoken 
    And the towns all a-round face ruin 
    Will there be work in New Brunswick? 
    Will I find gold in the Cape?     If I tunnel way down to Australia 
    Oh, will I ever escape? 

    As this verse portrays, in the mid-nineteenth century new mining frontiers in North and South America, Australia and South Africa opened up. Driven by hardship and in search of their fortune, thousands of people from the UK set off to these ‘new’ worlds. Generations of Cornishmen in particular used their skills and emigrated all across the world to earn money as miners. Collectively, these people became known as ‘Cousin Jacks’. 

    Where there’s a mine or a hole in the ground 
    That’s what I’m heading for that’s where I’m bound 
    So look for me under the lode and inside the vein 
    Where the copper, the clay, the arsenic, and tin 
    Run in your blood and under your skin 
    I’ll leave the county behind I’m not coming back 
    Oh, follow me down Cousin Jack 

    I’ve heard the ‘Cousin Jack’ song many times, and seen it performed live many times but when listening this time around, one line jumped out at me: “John Wesley gave us a voice”. Against the backdrop of struggle, the song describes how the Good News, communicated by Wesley, gave the miners hope in the darkest of times: 

    The soil was too poor to make Eden 
    Granite and sea left no choice 
    Though visions of heaven sustained us 
    When John Wesley gave us a voice 
    Did Joseph once come to St Michael’s Mount 
    Two thousand years pass in a dream 
    When you’re working your way in the darkness 
    Deep in the heart of the seam 

    Despite huge opposition, physical violence and Establishment repulsion, John Wesley made Methodism the main faith practice in Cornwall. He preached to 32,000 people at Gwennap Pit, near Redruth and local people used their voice to protest against the ‘Parish Rate’ – money that people had to pay to the Church of England – until it was abolished. Many Methodists refused to pay the rate and some were imprisoned because of this. 

    Trade Unions and Methodism, in my opinion, are two sides of the same coin – both good news, seeking justice, fighting poverty and speaking up for the rights of others: faith and works dovetailing together in the hope of better times. The Good News of Jesus and the inspiration of Wesley still bring me hope and give me a voice. However, we can’t just leave it to telling stories of old or modern-day figures like the inspirational union leader, Mick Lynch, to speak on our behalf. We need to bring our faith and our voices together and speak out today – for the sake of ourselves, each other, and for God’s sake. That’s my intention … 

    Whether it be because of the inspiration of people like the church-planting, trade union Tolpuddle Martyrs; the hope in desperate times of journeying to somewhere new; refusing to pay unjust ‘taxes’, and/or the efforts of prophetic figures like Mick Lynch, I hope to take encouragement that we do indeed have a voice and we can speak into the void. Thanks for reminding me, ‘Show of Hands’, and thanks for the inspiration, John Wesley. 

    You can find out more about ‘Show of Hands’ at https://showofhands.co.uk/

  • ‘Titanium’ – David Guetta (featuring Sia)

    Gill writes:

    There’s a theory called ‘Frequency illusion’ – also known as the Baader–Meinhof phenomenon – that we touch upon in Unconscious Bias training. It’s a theory that explains why after noticing something for the first time, there’s a tendency to notice it more often. For example, you may have bought a new car and suddenly it seems like everyone is driving cars like yours, or, like in the case of this song, the same song or word/s keep cropping up in conversation, on the radio or just in strangely random ways.

    ‘Titanium’ appeared on my playlist in September, and then I added it to our ‘Piano to Oslo’ journey playlist when we drove from Dorset to Oslo and back in October – transporting a family heirloom (the piano) to our nephew who lives in Oslo.

    This last weekend, we watched ‘The Swimmers’ – a film about the true story of two sisters, Yusra and Sara Mardini, fleeing Syria who are also talented swimmers (no spoilers – you can find it on Netflix) and guess what – this song appeared more than once on the soundtrack. If ever a song was more appropriate to the narrative of ‘The Swimmers’ then it’s this one.

    As you can imagine the journey across Europe to Germany (where Yusra and Sara sought asylum) is harrowing, frightening and anger-inducing. It’s also one full of hope – where the sisters are surrounded and protected by love, an armour of love just like titanium.

    You shoot me down, but I won’t fall
    I am titanium
    You shoot me down, but I won’t fall
    I am titanium

    I don’t know how much you know about titanium – apologies to the geologists, chemists and engineers amongst you. It’s a natural metal with low corrosive properties which was discovered by Rev William Gregor, an English vicar and amateur mineralogist, in Cornwall in 1791. It’s one of the strongest metals, it’s pretty lightweight, heat-resistant and doesn’t react with body tissues (so it’s great for prosthetics). It really is an impressive, natural metal.

    I have to admit that I’m not a big listener of ‘house’ or ‘urban-dance’ music, so this song is a little outside of the usual genres I listen. I’m thankful, therefore, for random ‘chosen for you’ playlists that expand my musical horizon. I’m also grateful for those who choose and write soundtracks for films that marry the imagery of a song with a film so perfectly. In this case, the notion that there are things that can try to destroy you but having an inner strength enveloped by an exterior of love can help to deflect or ricochet. No matter what, you can’t hurt me. I refuse to be destroyed.

    I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose
    Fire away, fire away
    Ricochet, you take your aim
    Fire away, fire away

    Titanium does have a weakness, however – oxygen is titanium’s ‘kryptonite.’ The song may not allude to such a weakness, but I find this strangely reassuring. Oxygen is crucial to human survival, and so this reminds me of our organic, vulnerable, human state. We aren’t invincible. We can fall. We are hurt. We will die. But that doesn’t need to worry us because there is something bigger than us; we are part of something bigger than us.

    Lots of us in the Learning Network in the Methodist Church gathered together on Zoom this week and we heard some very powerful words from Carolyn Merry, Director of ‘Place for Hope.’ She concluded with the thought that whether you are alive or whether you are dead, whatever circumstance you might find yourself in, God is always in there with us. 

    We can be shot down; people can take their aim at us; we might be cut down; sticks and stones may break our bones – but all that doesn’t need to matter because God is with us. Catholic Trappist monk, James Finley says ‘If we are absolutely grounded in the absolute love of God that protects us from nothing even as it sustains us in all things, then we can face all things with courage and tenderness and touch the hurting places in others and in ourselves with love.” In other words, God does not prevent us from life’s experiences of pain, suffering and trauma. Instead, God’s love sustains us through the most difficult times when we might be hurting excruciatingly.

    We have nothing to lose, so fire away. God is with us. Emmanuel.

    You can find out more about David Guetta at https://davidguetta.com/

  • ‘Women Of The World’ – Chris While and Julie Matthews

    Jane writes:

    Today is White Ribbon day. White Ribbon is a campaign against male violence towards women, asking society to get involved and particularly asking for the voices of the good men around us to be raised in support – https://www.whiteribbon.org.uk/

    It coincides this year with the World Cup, and so often male violence escalates if sporting teams fail miserably. The campaign then asks men to consider some of the things they can do to alleviate some of the pressure on women – both those they know and those they don’t – especially right now.

    It’s so sad isn’t it, that such a day even has to exist, but we’re in that place where it does. Not just in this country but across the world – the oppression of women is everywhere. Denial of the right to education, the right to choose how to dress or wear their hair, the right to make decisions and choices about their health and welfare, the right to have the careers they choose, and even the right to have access to the beloved sports grounds that some take for granted.

    Into this space then comes this lovely song of solidarity from While & Matthews. A song that says we have you in mind, we care and we want to hear your stories, a song that says you’re not on your own and that we have your backs.

    As a woman of faith, I don’t always find scripture easy on the subject of women. Old and New Testament stories are full of oppression towards women, exploitation, and decisions by men about what they should do and how they should behave. Jesus was different, though even he was sometimes caught up in the rhetoric of the day and it took the odd argumentative woman to push back so that we could see more clearly the way of God.

    Thankfully my own denomination has come a long way but there are some Christian men that profess to know best about the role of women in church life and beyond it. The language we use and the differences and distinctions we make which accidentally marginalize women are still around. If we need women to be less ‘at risk’ then what we say and do really matters.

    Let’s sing this song of solidarity instead then, and if you get a chance today give the White Ribbon campaign a plug. No woman needs to feel threatened, abandoned or alone. No man (or woman) should stay silent in the face of violence towards women. No woman should be prevented from being all that God intended for them.

    We will all walk together

    Walk together along this road

    You will rise up

    Rise and hold the sky up and we’ll all

    Hear your voices singing strong and singing high

    If you want to know more about While & Matthews – you can do so here at https://www.whileandmatthews.com/

  • ‘Gabriel’s Oboe’ – Ennio Morricone

    Nigel writes:

    The other day, I woke up recalling the piece of music called “Gabriel’s Oboe”, the main theme for the 1986 film ‘The Mission’, with Robert de Niro, Jeremy Irons, and Liam Neeson. I then discovered that the following night there was a TV documentary about Ennio Morricone who composed the piece.

    It’s such a beautiful piece of music. One that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand out, one that touches my soul and evokes deep emotional resonance. Resonances of joy, sadness, passion, service, sacrifice and, of course, mission. Indeed, I know from social media friends that others are similarly impacted by it and it’s a piece of music that has been used at both weddings and funerals as it so remarkably seems to suit both the hope and sadness of life.

    If you’ve not heard it before, do take a listen to it.

    Story of the film

    The film itself tells the story of a Jesuit missionary going to South America to try to convert the natives. At times, the film is very brutal and highlights many of the ills of the colonial era. The main character, Father Gabriel, plays his oboe and this piece of music in an attempt to connect with the native population. The tune then continually re-appears through the film in various guises as the story unfolds.

    From when I first saw it, it was a film that taught me so much about culture, power, violence, faith and sacrifice. Regular Friday Fix fans will know that the ‘Fix’ is meant to reflect on the lyrics of a piece of music and how they have connected life, spirituality, faith and our shared journeys. The trouble with my choice here, is that there are no lyrics for Gabriel’s Oboe. So, I’ve got special permission and am drawing on a couple of quotes from the film to reflect on the significance of this piece for me. I hope the purists are ok with that …

    The first quote is:

    “If might is right, then love has no place in the world. It may be so, it may be so. But I don’t have the strength to live in a world like that.”

    With so much trauma, loss and violence currently going on in our world, I have often felt like this of late. I really don’t want to be here, going through all the stuff we are going through. Many days it feels like I don’t have the strength. Yet something gets me through the days; off to bed at night; and up early next morning. I don’t know if that’s my simple humanity and default survival instinct compelling me to carry on or something of God. I’ve certainly found myself increasingly drawing on the idea that each new morning brings new mercies, new grace, new opportunities, and the chance to make a difference in the world. So on I press…

    The second quote is a brief conversation between two of the main characters.

    “Rodrigo Mendoza: Father, I’ve come to ask you to bless me.
    Father Gabriel: No. If you’re right, you’ll have God’s blessing. If you’re wrong, my blessing won’t mean anything.”

    This idea has always spurred me on to doing whatever it is I’ve been doing at any one particular time. We don’t need the blessing of people, if God is behind what we are about. Sure, it’s nice to feel folks are on your side, but that often just satisfies the self and massages the ego. It might even be of more benefit to those giving the blessing than those receiving it and going about the mission and business!

    I feel at a bit of a crossroads in life at the moment. There’s uncertainty, curiosity, and a little fragility. But I’m pressing into the hope of a better, peace-filled world and looking to join in with what (blessing and mission) God is up to.

  • ‘Forever Young’ – Alphaville

    Gill writes:

    At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we will remember them.

    Remember who? On the first Armistice Day in 1919, it was to stop and remember those (younger men mainly) who didn’t come back from ‘The Great War.’

    Little did people know that twenty years later they would be living through a second World War, and that Armistice Day – the 11th November – would evolve into today – Remembrance Day – when we stop to reflect and remember the impact that war has on us.

    According to the Imperial War Museum, there are around 90,000 memorials across the country. Most of these will be the centrepoint for an act of remembrance today and this weekend. For some communities, the memorial is venerated – behind gates or closed off; for other communities, the memorial is accessible where people can sit and gather.

    Sometimes, the memorial can (ironically) become a focus of conflict itself – like the one I found myself in the middle of as a town youth centre manager. Historically, generation after generation of young people in the town had gathered on the steps of the memorial, but it suddenly became an issue to a few older people in the town for some reason. There wasn’t any damage or disrespect happening but it became a heated topic in the town for a little while.

    So I found myself at a Community Safety meeting one evening asking questions about the memorial – the sort of questions you can ask when ‘you’re not from around here.’ One question I asked was about the age of the men (because it was all men) inscribed on the plaques – so I pointed out that many were a similar age to the young people who gathered there now.

    Then I asked about the names of the inscribed – many who shared a family name with the young people who gathered there now. All had lived and breathed in the town; some had even been a bit of trouble at times like their descendants.

    That’s the thing that always strikes me about these memorials that many of us will gather around in the next day or so. That they are predominantly memorials to the young. Younger people from those towns and communities who didn’t return from the battlefield or who didn’t survive other acts of war, and so consequently will be ‘Forever Young.’

    I’ve written before about the impact that my school exchange to West Germany (as it was then) had on me. Unlike my parents and grandparents, I didn’t experience the clouds of a World War; but I did experience the continual looming pressure of the Cold War. This was particularly tangible in the early-mid ’80s when Reagan and Chernenko had their fingers over the ‘button.’

    Let’s dance in style, let’s dance for a while.

    Heaven can wait, we’re only watching the skies.

    Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

    Are you going to drop the bomb or not?

    Of course, they did not drop the bomb and here I am growing old gracefully. But it has to be said that growing up at that time meant (for me anyway) living life to the fullest and making the most of every moment. There was always an underlying sense that life could be taken away without warning and that we mere mortals had no control over it.

    We don’t have the power but we never say never.

    Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip.

    The music’s for the sad man

    The song takes us on a journey that the world didn’t take in the end but it still has a poignancy which acknowledges the consequences of war. Younger people who didn’t get to live out their life’s adventures. Younger people who would never hear their generation’s music or get to achieve their dreams.

    So many adventures couldn’t happen today.

    So many songs we forgot to play.

    So many dreams swinging out of the blue.

    We let them come true. 

    Instead, they remain forever young.

    They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

    Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

    At the going down of the sun and in the morning

    We will remember them.

  • ‘Hands’ – The Raconteurs

    This week, we’re sharing a reflection from David who not only writes reflections for The Friday Fix, but also has his own blog – https://socalledsecular.org/ – and this reflection comes from there.

    “So much of our intake of music is fleeting and transient. The muzak of the shopping mall. The radio playing in the corner of the workplace. The pub soundtrack drowned by our own banter and laughter. Occasionally, in these situations, we become vaguely aware of it’s presence. We may even declare to those we are sharing a drink with that we love this tune, but then our attention quickly returns to our chatter.

    Music becomes the person we sit next to and ignore on the tube. Yet, any song however unknown, is a song waiting for hospitality. Waiting for the chance to be known to you.

    Even in our homes, where we can choose the music we want to listen to, it often finds itself unnoticed next to us. Friends visit, drinks are poured, music is chosen, the conversation flows, and the song is drowned. Background music from your collection is an old friend waiting to be welcomed again into your midst.

    To relegate music in these ways is to silence a voice that has a right to be heard, to ignore the stranger and to make our life poorer.

    ‘Listening is a form of spiritual hospitality by which you invite strangers to become soul-friends’

    (Community of Spiritual Formation)

    To offer music hospitality is to intentionally sit and listen. To be generous with our time and pay attention at the expense of all the other competing voices and noises in our world. It is to place music firmly in the foreground.

    ‘Spiritual listening is at the heart of all relationships. It is what we experience when we become a quiet, safe container into which the speaker is able to express his or her most genuine voice. There is a communion of souls.’

    (Kay Lindahl, https://www.globallisteningcentre.org/spiritual-listening/)

    I don’t believe any artist writes or plays for their music to lurk in shadows, to be the ignored traveller on public transport.  A true piece of art is birthed from deep within the soul of the artist and is offered to the world in the hope that there will be connection. That connection has no chance of being made if we keep the song in the background. If we become a safe container into which the music can express its most genuine voice the connection is possible.

    When this connection is made, we allow the artist to speak into the space we create. With no other distractions we can immerse ourselves in the whole song. As we listen our brain will work in so many different ways to interpret rhythms, tunes and meaning of lyrics as well as interpreting the emotion of the piece. That moment when nothing else matters, when our eyes close, feet tap and our breathing falls into the rhythm of the song we have a true connection. We have a communion of souls. Our soul with the soul of the music and the artists and creator of the piece.

    This is the way music is meant to communicate. This is the way music is meant to be listened to.  Allowing music to speak directly to us, by not having to fight for attention, ensures that the true voice of the music is heard.

    Intentionally listening to a fresh piece of music is to listen with the anticipation and expectation that we experience at the start of a new relationship. When we hear a new song that touches us deep down, we can experience the same excitement and thrill as at the beginning of a new love affair. A relationship with limitless possibilities, in which there is a deep desire to know all we can and, simply, to be known. It is to offer a generous welcome to the unknown troubadour and begin to walk an unknown path.

    It obviously takes more than one listen to become soul-friends. Revisiting the exercise of truly listening will take us into a deeper and richer relationship. It will open up many different avenues and there is no real knowing where it will lead. This is true for all spiritual journeys.

    There is a spirituality in listening to music, even to so-called secular music. Definitions for spirituality abound but at the heart of many definition is the idea that spirituality is concerned with more than the physical and material things of this life and focusses on the soul, the spirit of a human.

    ‘Hands’ was the second single from The Raconteur’s debut album Broken Boy Soldiers. Released in the summer of 2006, it reached number 29 in the UK singles chart.

    It is a love song, a song about a relationship. As I listen I hear a song about knowing and being known. A song about the deep connection between two people. A song that is concerned with the spirituality, rather than the physicality, of love.

    Help me get in touch with what I feel…

    Help me find the good that’s inside me…

    When you listen there’s a hope and I know I’m being heard

    When you smile at me and I know, and we don’t have to speak a word

    When you’re with me there’s a light and I can see my way

    When you speak to me it’s a song and I know what to say

    Offering spiritual hospitality to a song can form the sort of connection that helps us get in touch with what we feel, help us find the good inside.

    To welcome and entertain a song is to expect that the experience will lift us above the everyday, stretch us beyond our own limits and reshape us. This is what makes listening a spiritual experience. This is why offering generous hospitality to music deepens our connection with songs and why our lives are so much poorer if we only ever leave music in the background.”

    Find out more about The Raconteurs at https://www.theraconteurs.com/

  • ‘Dance With Life’ – Bryan Ferry

    Kay writes:

    Life always has a soundtrack for me, I’m never without a song in my head even at the saddest moments. That’s why this song “Dance with life” resonates with me.

    Life is such a gift, sharing it with people we love is to be treasured, making memories for ourselves and others. Making a positive difference to the lives of others is a feeling like no other.

    In my head sometimes the dance is a proper dance like a Charleston and sometimes it’s a waltz or a slow smooch. It’s maybe a foot tap or at our lowest times, the flow of our tears and our grief.

    The song talks about love, it talks about “making every second your last” or making every day count. But above all, it talks about leaving a brilliant light behind.

    In recent times we’ve lost a couple of wonderful people in our family, but their brilliant lights live on. Their dance with life has ended, but we will pick up the rhythm and dance on.

    Find out more about Bryan Ferry at bryanferry.com