Crying and dying music

Hymn To Joy

This continues my response to J. Eric Smith’s The Honest Playlist prompt, with his answers here. It turned out to be crying and dying music.

Crying

The song that makes me cry is “A LOT OF MUSIC MAKES ME CRY, and it’s become more frequent over time. Sad songs such as these can be tied to failed romance. Also in the category is “Harvest Moon” by Neil Young. A friend was playing that song by Cassandra Wilson and wondered if it made me feel down; no, it’s the specific cadence of the original.

Lullabye by Billy Joel, especially after I heard an a cappella group from Binghamton, NY perform it c. 1995. It’s the bridge.

The inverse pedal point.

Silent Eyes by Paul Simon. The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel; see the description here. Biko by Peter Gabriel, specifically at the end. There are quite a few songs. 

I wrote here about my mom in 2016, five years after she died: “I went to church [back in Albany] that last Sunday of the month when we sang Lift Every Voice and Sing, which I’ve sung for years. But I can barely get through it anymore without crying, and it started that day when I knew, profoundly, that my mom, and my last living ancestor, was gone.”

There’s a Lenten hymn called “Ah, Holy Jesus.” The second verse ends with “I crucified You.”  It always makes me verklempt.

But it doesn’t always have to be sad. Lots of organ music affects me; it often offers power chords at the end. I’m a sucker for the very last, very high note Julie Andrews sings in Do-Re-Mi from The Sound of Music. Or the growl by Paul Carrack in Squeeze’s Tempted. The modulation in She’s Gone by Hall and Oates; that song won me $48. There are a slew of them. But they don’t always affect me the same way every time.

Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye

The song I’d like played at my funeral: Coincidentally, in the spring of 2025,  folks in our adult education class at church talked about what music, scripture, etc., the participants would like to have at their funerals. I wasn’t there because the choir rehearses at the same time.

If you want to play music in the lead-up to my funeral, I’d suggest the Barber adagio or Raindrop Prelude by Chopin. The Chopin begins and ends simply, but the middle (the inverse pedal point section) is the stormy section. 

At the beginning, I’d love to have a recording of My Prayer by the Beach Boys. It’s not very long but effective.

How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place from the Brahms Requiem, in English, would be nice during the service. Also, I Will Not Leave You Comfortless by Everett Titcomb, or Come Thou Holy Spirit by Pavel Tschesnokoff.

I want someone to sing the response to Psalm 29, the arrangement by Hal Hopson, as one of the scripture pieces, along with readings of Psalm 150 and Matthew 25:34-40. 

Hymns

Pick some hymns with harmonization; I don’t want a bunch of boring unison singing. Here are some options from a previous Presbyterian hymnal. They are in page order, not by any preference:

Holy, Holy, Holy (Nicaea)—I now know the blessed Trinity refers to God’s manifestations, but it evokes in me my first church in Binghamton (Trinity AME Zion) and in Albany (Trinity United Methodist). And it’s the first hymn in what a late ex-girlfriend used to refer to as the “real Methosdist hymnal.”

It Is Well With My Soul (Ville Du Havre) – sung at several Trinity UMC funerals

God of the Ages, Whose Almighty Hand (National Hymn). I always loved the trumpet opening. We sang some version of this in elementary school around Thanksgiving.

Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise (St. Denio)

Guide Me, Oh Thou Great Jehovah (Cwm Rhondda)- I always loved the bass vocal flourish in the last line. It reminds me of someone specific.

How Firm A Foundation (Foundation)

My Hope Is Built On Nothing Less (Sold Rock)

O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go (St. Margaret)

Precious Lord (Precious Lord)

Lord, You Give the Great Commission (Abbot’s Leigh) – this has a great bass line.

The Church’s One Foundation (Aurelia) – I’m a sucker for old Wesleyan hymns

Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Theee (Hymn To Joy) – roll over, Beethoven

For The Beauty of the Earth (Dix)

When Morning Gilds The Skies (Laudes Domini)

And in the end

Near the end, I want God Be With You Till We Meet Again (Randolph) or Now The Day Is Over (Merrial), and most importantly, I want a seven-fold Amen. We don’t sing enough Amens in our service.

I need a postlude, something I could feel viscerally if I sat in the choir loft. One option would be the Toccata from Symphony V by Charles-Marie Widor, which I first heard in 1992 at my graduation from library school. But there are others.

Finally, I want someone to play a recording of In The Mood by The Henhouse Five (Plus Two), the nom de poulet of Ray Stevens, purveyor of eclectic songs such as Gitarzan, Mr. Businessman, Everything Is Beautiful, and The Streak. I have the song on a Warner Bros. Loss Leader. He showed that, and I’ve known this ever since, almost anything can be done in chicken. (See, for example, Ode To Chicken by TwoSetViolin.)

I suppose this is all subject to change, with music I’m not thinking of. (I’m REALLY bad at remembering names of instrumentals.) And since I’ll be, er, dead, I don’t want to handcuff the planners of my funeral TOO much. But I thought it was a pretty good first draft. 

The Lydster, Part 138: Dining in public with an infant

I have an odd fascination with that story about the mom whose encounter with an angry Maine diner owner went viral.

Without rehashing the whole thing, I was taken by this sentence in the mom’s version: “When the food came, my daughter was still fussing.” After extensive observation, I’ve discovered that parents have very different criteria for what constitutes “fussing,” and moreover, whether to stay or go.

I’ve decided that there are two types of parents of children `who are under two years old: those who don’t think other people would mind a little bit of adorable noise because ADORABLE, and those who are mortified by their child’s disruption. Maybe it’s because we became parents relatively late, but the Wife, and especially I, are most assuredly in the latter category.

The first time The Wife and I decided to go out to dinner after the Daughter was born was when she was six months old, give or take a couple weeks. She had been nursed before we went to a nice Vietnamese restaurant in Albany. She seemed fine in one of those car seat carriers.

Very soon after we were seated, the Daughter began wailing. Maybe it sounded like wailing to us because the stone floor was very echoey, but as it didn’t seem to stop, even as we took turns holding her. We left, leaving an enormous tip for a couple cups of tea.

Seems we went somewhere else to eat – McDonald’s? – and she was cheerful.

I told The Daughter this story about herself fairly recently. She felt badly about it, which was NOT the intent.

We avoided taking a transcontinental trip to Washington state when she was two, because she didn’t travel always well in the car, where we could control the environment. Surely, I didn’t want us to be those parents all the passengers glowered at for hours.

Art, science, Bible, baseball

You have this +1 sodium just hanging out when it hooks up with the -1 chloride.

josephhenry
More from New York Erratic:

Who is your favorite visual artist? Favorite director?

I tend to be rather catholic about these things. Here’s the best way to recognize the artist of paintings, BTW.

My church has Tiffany windows, which I like; the one above is one of them. Gordon Parks is a favorite photographer. Always though Frank Lloyd Wright’s buildings were interesting, if not always practical. Van Gogh I enjoy, but there are so many more; I love going to the house in the Hyde Collection in Glens Falls, NY because it’s so eclectic. Did one of those Facebook things where you should live, and it came up with French Polynesia, which reminded me that I like Gauguin too.

But I guess my favorite visual artist is Rodin, whose work I find sensual as all get out, even if it isn’t all his work.

I took this list of a list of the 50 greatest directors of all time. Of all the directors whose films I’ve seen more that three Continue reading “Art, science, Bible, baseball”

Ramblin' with Roger
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