Is it possible to say, definitely, what the saddest song ever is? I don't think so, at least not unless emotions are quantified in some sort of physical manner and a measure can be made, and that's unlikely. But there are a number of songs which often come up when the question is asked. Things like Gary Jules' cover of the Tears For Fears song "Mad World", or Johnny Cash' cover of "Hurt".
I can make an argument that the saddest song is, in fact, relatively unknown. "I Know A Tune We Could Sing" is the second-to-last song on the last album by Virginia Astley, released in 1996, and featuring her daughter Florence with guest vocals. Lyrically, it's a fairly standard aftermath-of-the-end-of-the-world romp. Not the most cheerful subject matter, but there's nothing outstandingly depressing about the specific words. You can read them below, and judge for yourself:
| "I Know A Tune We Could Sing" - Lyrics | ||
| Before the last wave breaks, Before the wind murmurs his last breath, Before another song ends, Before our whole world is gripped in death, I know a tune we could sing. When another grey dawn breaks, When another sad night falls, Children play by the river, But the sparrow no longer calls. Whilst indifferent stars shine overhead, I know the tune, I know the tune we should sing. Now that the orchid has gone, Now that the coal won't ever be dug, Now our lives are primitive, With only the weary sun above, Can you think of a tune to sing? When another grey dawn breaks, When another sad night falls, Children play by the river, But the sparrow no longer calls. Whilst indifferent stars shine overhead, I know the tune, I know the tune we should sing. When another grey dawn breaks, When another sad night falls, Children play by the river, But the sparrow no longer calls. Whilst indifferent stars shine overhead, I know the tune, I know the tune we should sing. When another grey dawn breaks, When another sad night falls, Children play by the river, But the sparrow no longer calls. Whilst indifferent stars shine overhead, I know the tune, I know the tune we should sing. When another grey dawn breaks, When another sad night falls, When another grey dawn breaks, When another sad night falls. |
The portions of the lyrics in italics are the parts where Florence Astley is singing. The rest is sung by Virginia. Now, it's not upbeat, but it's not too sad, right?
Let me explain why it's incredibly sad.
For contextual reasons, you need to take three particular points in Virginia Astley's career, and use them to build a narrative. Number one - her temporary retirement, in 1986, to look after her then-infant daughter. Number two - the song "My Smallest Friend", the opening track of her 1992 comeback album All Shall Be Well. And number three - "I Know A Tune We Could Sing".
Picture this alternate story. 1986, the height of the Cold War. Nuclear war. Virginia seeks shelter with Florence for their safety. In 1992, six years later, they are alone (as the portion of "My Smallest Friend" which goes "Hello my smallest friend, lying there staring, your eyes know too much for one so young. Here am I, the centre of your world, my sweetest girl it's only you and I and I'm scared little one" suggests.) Let's break down this section of this song, as it lends context to our point here.
Virginia and Florence are the only ones wherever they are. Florence's "eyes know too much for one so young", which could well be death, and lots of it. Meanwhile, Virginia admits she is "scared little one". So something's obviously gone down. Other lyrics in the song suggest a bunker-style affair ("I don't know how to draw a line apart, you and I, so close the cold world outside") and failure of the mother to protect her daughter ("I tried to be all things for you, my sweetest girl. I'm less than perfect in a less-than-perfect world"). All very grim.
Which brings us onto the song in question, here. 1996, ten years after our hypothetical apocalypse event. The two Astleys emerge from their bunker, but everything is quiet. Not wanting to upset her daughter, Virginia tries to keep things cheerful, so before their world is gripped in death - read, before they die like the rest of the world - they can sing a song.
Looking at the lyrics, the tune they could sing is never given. Perhaps it's the next song on the album, "A Long Long Year", but that is a) not particularly catchy, certainly not catchy enough to be the post-apocalypse song of choice, and b) lyrically unrelated. So we rule out "A Long Long Year", and short of picking a random song from Virginia's discography, we are left with two possibilities. Either the tune is not given, which could be the case, or the tune is part of the song.
The chorus.
"When another grey dawn breaks,
When another sad night falls,
Children play by the river,
But the sparrow no longer calls.
Whilst a different star shines overhead,
I know the tune, I know the tune we should sing."
Note that Florence only sings this part of the song, the verses are exclusively performed by Virginia. This lends credibility to the idea: the tune is familiar, and Florence knows it and can contribute. But the verses are new, and Virginia alone can tell the story.
And here is where it gets sad. At the end, Florence's vocals cut off abruptly after the word 'another', but Virginia's carry on. Why not finish the line, or fade away? Is it symbolic? Perhaps the Florence of this alternate world has, like the other six billion people (this is the 1990s, remember), succumbed to the apocalypse. To be blunt, she's died.
So Virginia is alone. She tried to comfort her child, but she failed, and her child has died. And so has all of humanity other than the singer, chronicling the last story of homo sapiens as a creature of companions, to a future generation that will never be born.
The next song, "A Long Long Year", is a melancholy but optimistic song. The standout lyrics? "I've travelled far afield, many places I did see, but here in this woodlands is always home for me." Perhaps, having come to the dreadful conclusion that the species is at its end, the character of alternate-Virginia retires to the woodlands of her youth (the same woodlands, perhaps, that she referred to in an earlier song by the name of "Tree Top Club") to await her own end.
The album was released in 1996. Here we are, nearly twenty years later, and a few odd collaborations and a single album of poetry to music aside, Virginia's discography hasn't grown any more. So the story ends there, on the most depressing of notes. The end.
Let me explain why it's incredibly sad.
For contextual reasons, you need to take three particular points in Virginia Astley's career, and use them to build a narrative. Number one - her temporary retirement, in 1986, to look after her then-infant daughter. Number two - the song "My Smallest Friend", the opening track of her 1992 comeback album All Shall Be Well. And number three - "I Know A Tune We Could Sing".
Picture this alternate story. 1986, the height of the Cold War. Nuclear war. Virginia seeks shelter with Florence for their safety. In 1992, six years later, they are alone (as the portion of "My Smallest Friend" which goes "Hello my smallest friend, lying there staring, your eyes know too much for one so young. Here am I, the centre of your world, my sweetest girl it's only you and I and I'm scared little one" suggests.) Let's break down this section of this song, as it lends context to our point here.
Virginia and Florence are the only ones wherever they are. Florence's "eyes know too much for one so young", which could well be death, and lots of it. Meanwhile, Virginia admits she is "scared little one". So something's obviously gone down. Other lyrics in the song suggest a bunker-style affair ("I don't know how to draw a line apart, you and I, so close the cold world outside") and failure of the mother to protect her daughter ("I tried to be all things for you, my sweetest girl. I'm less than perfect in a less-than-perfect world"). All very grim.
Which brings us onto the song in question, here. 1996, ten years after our hypothetical apocalypse event. The two Astleys emerge from their bunker, but everything is quiet. Not wanting to upset her daughter, Virginia tries to keep things cheerful, so before their world is gripped in death - read, before they die like the rest of the world - they can sing a song.
Looking at the lyrics, the tune they could sing is never given. Perhaps it's the next song on the album, "A Long Long Year", but that is a) not particularly catchy, certainly not catchy enough to be the post-apocalypse song of choice, and b) lyrically unrelated. So we rule out "A Long Long Year", and short of picking a random song from Virginia's discography, we are left with two possibilities. Either the tune is not given, which could be the case, or the tune is part of the song.
The chorus.
"When another grey dawn breaks,
When another sad night falls,
Children play by the river,
But the sparrow no longer calls.
Whilst a different star shines overhead,
I know the tune, I know the tune we should sing."
Note that Florence only sings this part of the song, the verses are exclusively performed by Virginia. This lends credibility to the idea: the tune is familiar, and Florence knows it and can contribute. But the verses are new, and Virginia alone can tell the story.
And here is where it gets sad. At the end, Florence's vocals cut off abruptly after the word 'another', but Virginia's carry on. Why not finish the line, or fade away? Is it symbolic? Perhaps the Florence of this alternate world has, like the other six billion people (this is the 1990s, remember), succumbed to the apocalypse. To be blunt, she's died.
So Virginia is alone. She tried to comfort her child, but she failed, and her child has died. And so has all of humanity other than the singer, chronicling the last story of homo sapiens as a creature of companions, to a future generation that will never be born.
The next song, "A Long Long Year", is a melancholy but optimistic song. The standout lyrics? "I've travelled far afield, many places I did see, but here in this woodlands is always home for me." Perhaps, having come to the dreadful conclusion that the species is at its end, the character of alternate-Virginia retires to the woodlands of her youth (the same woodlands, perhaps, that she referred to in an earlier song by the name of "Tree Top Club") to await her own end.
The album was released in 1996. Here we are, nearly twenty years later, and a few odd collaborations and a single album of poetry to music aside, Virginia's discography hasn't grown any more. So the story ends there, on the most depressing of notes. The end.
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