Holly Throsby’s When? is a song is about an important aspect of love: looking forward to when you're over the ex, and the landscape is bright once more.
I have no idea what the title of this song means, or indeed the point of it, but I know how it feels. Claustrophobic. Disquieting. Brilliant.
This week we’re sent to the big house with Cold Chisel’s Four Walls, a song that starts tongue in cheek, and ends head in hands. Time to pack your sharpened toothbrush, its 200 Sad Songs time.
Never has the term ‘include your brother’ been used to greater effect than the Gershwins. George and Ira were titans together, minnows alone. Sadly, it was not to last.
Buried deep in Celine Dion’s “It’s all coming back to me now” is a single line of such honest, powerful beauty it makes us reach for the draino. Flaming every shred of a lost love in our broken minds, in today’s 200 Sad Songs.
Heartache is often the only thing you have left of someone, so if you let that go, they’re truly gone. Next up in 200 Sad Songs we address that duality. Let go for what?
Love emboldens one to make rash gestures – and you can bet your caboose that a Midnight Train to Georgia fits that category. Gladys Knight blows the whistle in today’s 200 Sad Songs.
Bonnie Prince Billy steers the RMS 200 Sad Songs this week, dealing with depression and the impact of it on your inner circle.
Janice Ian’s “At Seventeen” is a song for those who suffered through teenage Fridays on their lonesome. So to you, fellow losers of the genetic lottery, saddle up for our next overshare of 200 Sad Songs.
International Jazz Day is upon us, so let the expertise of the local jazz scene explain why you should care about not just the day, but the art of arts.
In today’s 200 Sad Songs, “Head Over Feet” is an earnestly hopeful number – and a departure for Alanis Morissette. It’s still about loss, though.
The perfect balance between writing, cast, liberal spreading of CG and a ludicrous budget represent the jewels of “The Crown”’s…uh, crown.
Very few artists allow you to travel back in time, but the warm charm of Al Bowlly instantly drags you back to the optimistic sepia blur of the 1920s.
In 200 Sad Songs this week: Change Your Mind, an anti-love ode that focuses on the moments we reach out to that person we shouldn’t. The lesson here is, don’t.
In 200 Sad Songs this week, “Poison Oak” tells of a friendship separated by death, which continues in the memory of the living. Mexico, heroin, warts and all.
“Childhood” shows an adult realising he was robbed of his naive years, and knowing, despite his best efforts, those years are gone forever. The great, and greatly tortured Michael Jackson is up next in the series of the 200 saddest songs.
Don’t let the abuse of English colour your impulse. “Tha Crossroads” is indeed a fitting entry into the Sad Songs series, and a wonderful tribute to the departed touching upon the one thing that truly awaits us all.
Teen life is tough, as Grease’s Rizzo (Stockard Channing) communicates perfectly in this week’s 200 Sad Songs entry. While life could be worse than it already is, we know it won’t last forever.
This week’s sad march through recording history diverts slightly, as Nirvana’s Serve The Servants bites the hand that feeds them. The dreaded industry.
Nightswimming represents the high water mark of R.E.M, with Michael Stipe leading their ode to inaccessible memories. Number #181 in our 200 Sad Songs.
Long before Stephen King appropriated it, there was but one murderous clown. Si chiama Pagliacci. Welcome to the brutal embrace of Leoncavallo’s bloody masterpiece.
An ode to unrequited love penned by an artist suffering from schizophrenia. Daniel Johnston’s romantic epic is hopeful without holding out hope. Grand work.