If you can keep your pleasant mood when the sky goes cold and grey, well then you'll have beaten the seasons and the will of a fairly large, spinning rock. Think about how impressed our cave-dwelling, paleo-eating ancestors would be. They wouldn't even have the words! But then, they wouldn't have had the warm company of Ryuichi Sakamoto, Young Fathers, Kris Kristofferson, the folk songs of Appalachia and the Auvergne, Simon Fischer Turner, Beverly Glenn-Copeland, and thirteen other single-barreled musicians.
Two conflicting themes appeared when typing this up: there are songs of lifting up (Hope of Green Fields, Great Storms being Over, Eddie Vedder's Rise, Spiritualized's everything) and there are low songs of deep regret. If you only press play on one, make it Kristofferson's When I Loved Her. Just might be the saddest song ever written. Thankful too.
And that's November for you. A bit like Thanksgiving: all feeling, and with a nap thrown in.
(It's possible they'd have one Trogg. But nothing as elevating as four Troggs giving you Any Way That You Want It.) ↩︎
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