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Thursday 8 September 2022

If I Could See All My Friends Tonight

Every time I post here about Isaac and our loss since he died last November (as I did yesterday) I'm a bit overwhelmed by the responses. People leave the loveliest comments, here and on social media. I know that it can't be easy to find the words sometimes- I think I'd struggle myself if it the situation were reversed- but one thing we've learned in this is it's often better to say something rather than nothing. So thank you to you all who do leave comments. I'm sure there must be times when it's difficult to read and I don't blame anyone who comes for the music and doesn't want to read my posts about bereavement and grief. I get that too. Some of you I've met in real life, many I haven't, but you're all my friends in either real or virtual life and thank you. 

Earlier this week JC at The Vinyl Villain posted a three song mini- ICA revival featuring New York indie- disco outfit LCD Soundsystem. In 2007 they released Sound Of Silver, a much lauded (deservedly so) album with a single, All My Friends, which is a superb piece of massive sounding, infectious, danceable, melancholic but ultimately life affirming music. The post is here. When All My Friends came out as a single fifteen years ago there were two 7" vinyl versions, each with a cover of the song by a different band. One cover was by Franz Ferdinand and the other courtesy of John Cale. Cale's version is magnificent (obviously) and it felt apt for this post. 

All My Friends (John Cale Version)

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I always read your posts about Isaac and find them poignant and beautifully written. I never have the words to say anything as eloquent on the day.
One day I hope that I'll be able to shake you by the hand and tell you in person. Swc.

Swiss Adam said...

Thanks SWC. I'd like that.

Rol said...

I agree that it's better to say something rather than nothing. I remember, many years ago now, going into work after my nephew had been killed. Everyone in the office knew, but only my immediate colleagues offered condolences. When I went into the sales office, everyone busied themselves and avoided eye contact. Then one guy, he was the top sales guy (and one of the few members of the sales team I ever had any respect for) came over and took me to one side. "Sorry to hear about your nephew. How you doing?" I had even more respect for him after that. But it takes a lot of confidence, and I think we're all terrified of saying the wrong thing under these circumstances.