Sweet Dreams.
Billy Joel's ‘Lullaby (Goodnight My Angel)’ is one of the most heartrending songs I
know.
I have a theory
about music that touches you: it has the power to stop time. There are a
handful of songs I give my full attention to any time they come on and this is one of them; it’s searingly honest without a trace of artifice and
that’s what’s so special about it; Joel’s love for his daughter as he tries to
answer her question, “What happens when we die?” whilst in the midst of divorce
from her mother glistens from every note with no word or sound out of place; it's perfect.
The song came up in an unlikely situation only last month: while I was chatting to Bobby Davro before we shared the bill at Mostly Comedy. He was telling me how he’d recently learnt the harmonica
part to 'Piano Man'; painstakingly going over it repeatedly until he mastered it, much
to the frustration of his daughter (it’s not the nicest instrument to listen to
when you’re starting out, like the violin).
While his
practicing drove her mad, she told him how proud she was when he got it
note-perfect at his next gig. From there our conversation went to talking about Joel’s
recent concert at Wembley Stadium, which it turned out we both were at.
“He didn’t play
my favourite song though” said Davro.
“Which one’s
that?”
“Goodnight My
Angel.”
“That’s mine too”
I exclaimed, delighted at the common ground.
“You have kids,
don’t you?” Davro said, after a beat.
That’s the thing about
a song from the heart of a great writer; it’s puts you in their place. Lullaby's
a perfect example; it has a beautiful vulnerability that gets me each time I
hear it. I could listen to it on a permanent loop (though don't tell the staff at Guantanamo Bay should I ever end up there).
