A song I want played at my funeral

Looking back (and forward) at some of my selections I feel that this meme has been great at getting me to write consistently, and at greater depth than usual on this blog, but it’s also held up a mirror to how terribly limited some of my musical choices have been. Reading Russell‘s Thirty Days alongside my entries has made me feel like I’ve been picking from a box made of four-piece bands, deaf to the music outside. I don’t think that’s totally fair to what I’m currently listening to, but it probably is fair to the stuff I listened to until a couple of years ago, the stuff I can pin memories to. Perhaps I should live a bit more, do more things, before I start casting those experiences and memories in cement.

Blur are probably the cause of the ‘box of bands’. I have vivid memories of Parklife on the stereo during family holidays as a younger lad, always on the Isle of Wight, enjoying my Mum and my sister’s company on what seemed to be endlessly sunny days. There was a frog-slide by the swimming pool, and I won a dancing competition, and I don’t think I’d have registered ‘This Is A Low’ at the time, but isn’t it a beautiful thing?

Doesn’t it take you through the shape of nation? Doesn’t it make you want to see so much more of Britain, to live in it a lot longer and have epic experiences and journeys? Doesn’t it make you want to live?

I’m not totally sure I’m ready to think about what will be played at my funeral, I’m not totally sure anyone ever should be, but going out to this… would still be something I don’t want to dwell on, from this position, thank you very much.