Hold on to your lover cause your hearts bound to die

In a bid to try and get more use out of this blog, I've decided to try and not force myself to write about myself every bloody day. So, instead, I was thinking I want to write about songs I love and try and work out why I do. I find that I get very fixated with songs, to the extent that I can listen to a current obsession on repeat for hours to hear everything in the song.

The first song I've picked is one of these songs. Around two years ago, my brother sent me an email with a link to the video below, saying that the woman's voice is one of the most unique you'll ever hear, coupled with lyrics that seem to be ripped from a hole deep down in the heart of a small town.

I was intrigued, so I pressed play and had a listen. At first the vocal tone grated on me, but as the opening lines weaved around, I was frozen and didn't want to click pause.

"And you know the sun's setting fast, and just like they say nothing good ever lasts. Well, go on, kiss it good bye, but hold on to your lover cause your hearts bound die"

From here the song tells a tale of a woman spending her life in suburban town somewhere in the America (although it could be anywhere, even Scotland), only to watch the connection and longing to the town fade away. In the end she decides that she has to leave, although with some degree of reluctance.

Now comes the personal part. This song means a lot to me because of the link it has between me and my brother. This was one of the first songs that, in 'adultlife', he and I found a mutual admiration for. Both of us were both living away from our home town at the time, and with the content of the song dealing with the fading away of what makes a town a place you can call home, it barged its way in to my life. 

I've always been interested in what can make a place feel like home, whether or not it's the peoples, the buildings, the memories, or even just as another song says "wherever I lay my hat". There are many places in my hometown that I have fond memories of, but revisiting the places fill me with dread. The bricks and mortar may be the same, the same people may be there, but it can never live up to the nostalgia. On the other hand though perhaps that was all there was in the first place?

Our Town by Iris Dement doesn't provide definite answers, but it does paint the perfect picture of the final days before you leave.