Go down the backroads
Don’t take it too slow
You don’t have the time for a long flirtation
You don’t have the time for the least hesitation

I recently learned of the Latin phrase memento mori, translated as “remember that you must die.” This is intended in a similar way as carpe diem, but with the benefit of perhaps creating some acceptance around the inevitability of death.  Music is a great vehicle for both acceptance–integrating the idea of death into our concept of our lives–and celebration of life. And this is approached in a bunch of different ways. But I really wanted to highlight this duality of life and death.

The duality is addressed with in a range of ways–both the type of death (spiritual, suicidal, homicidal, accidental, natural) and the response, the counterpoint of life (rebirth, reincarnation, awakening); the songs range from the comical (Hypnotic Clambake’s “Past Lives” and They Might Be Giant’s “Dead”) to the tragic. The vitality of life is contrasted with the passivity of death in “Sukie in the Graveyard” and the regrets of dying “God’s Gallipoli.” Destructive floods bring new life; idealism is beaten on the head by reality. We kill each other, rediscover ourselves, rediscover love, and the beat goes on. Life is something we appreciate more for the inevitability of death.

A few songs are deserving of additional  comments.

According to David Byrne, “This Must Be the Place” is a love song; to me it exudes existential dread: “I guess I must be having fun/the less we say about it the better” seems terribly sad and this song just gets me in that place of wanting to make the most of the moment and not to wait for death to part lovers who have become strangers. And this is the wonder of music…we can interpret things according to our moods, our particular situations.

“Maggot Brain” has a great dead/alive story. The legend is that George Clinton told Eddie Hazel to play the first part of the song as if he had learned his mother had died, and the second half as if she had come back to life.

Elizabeth Frazer performs the vocals on Massive Attack’s “Teardrop.” While recording the song, she learned of the death of her former lover Jeff Buckley in Memphis, making the lyrical references to the intensity of emotion that the living have for the recently dead more poignant.

Finally: the inspiration for this was personal. In October of 2019, my family lost two pets in short order. Then, in November, a close family friend passed away unexpectedly. One November evening, riding the bus home, I listened to Holly Bowling’s piano cover of the Grateful Dead’s “Cassidy.”  Despite the instrumental rendition, I was reminded of the lyrics and though about my understanding of the song’s meaning–a celebration of a new life, the baby Cassidy, while also celebrating the deceased Neal Cassady. And I thought of two colleagues who were welcoming new babies and this whole cycle continued. In reality, the story is even deeper and really deserves to be told by John Perry Barlow himself–you can find that story here: https://litkicks.com/BarlowOnNeal.

Quick beats in an icy heart.
Catch-colt draws a coffin cart.
There he goes now, here she starts:
Hear her cry.
Flight of the seabirds, scattered like lost words
Wheel to the storm and fly.