This classic hit the charts worldwide as a poignant, nostalgic take on Little Match Girl that beautifully underscored how love continues even after someone is gone.
Sinead O’Connor’s version of this song transformed it from an ordinary break-up tune into a spine-tingling, tear-jerker classic, making it ideal for funerals or celebrations of life.
Nothing Compares 2 U
Not many songs hit you as hard as this tragic breakup ballad by Prince and Sinead O’Connor. Other tracks might leave you yearning (“Eleanor Rigby,” “A Rose for Emily”) but nothing compares with its dramatic melancholy. Not surprisingly, when released in 1990 it quickly became her biggest hit ever!
This version’s music is deliberately sparse, allowing O’Connor’s voice to shine through with clarity. Her trademark wail-yodel cannot be replicated; starting off slowly plainspoken before reaching an incredible crescendo of self-knowing strength as she nears the final line.
It’s difficult to discern exactly what this song means; its lyrics seem to speak about a failed relationship while at the same time expressing anger against a corrupt system. Either way, its message resonated with audiences worldwide and caused widespread praise for this remarkable artist.
Sinead O’Connor never met Prince directly who composed her song; however, she met him later in her life and their encounter was odd and unpleasant – as evidenced by her memoir wherein an encounter at his house featured a pillow fight and him telling her to stop cussing; their meeting clearly was not ideal.
O’Connor’s version of this track remains definitive, making her interpretation her own and making it truly her own – something only great artists can achieve. Unfortunately, her other work lacked its emotional intensity compared to this masterpiece; nonetheless she produced plenty of good music throughout her career.
Roberta Flack’s 1972 version of Killing Me Softly with His Song stands as an example of this phenomenon; O’Connor became the first female singer ever to lead a single on Billboard charts and achieve number 1. Following that success and its subsequent backlash (such as her refusal to perform at an event that wouldn’t play the National Anthem), her fate seemed sealed; nevertheless she continued making incredible music in subsequent years, even while facing levels of public hatred usually reserved for mass murderers; she truly deserves our respect as an unsung hero!
I’ll Be Alone
the late 60s and 70s saw an extraordinary amount of misery put to melody by means of Vietnam War, recreational heroin use or economic depression. There are countless sad songs from this era; Billy Strayhorn’s Book of Memories stands out most to me; its sadness resonates so profoundly it almost makes you cry; it encapsulates existential angst and inner darkness perfectly; like its lyrics suggest this song was written by someone whose life may have seemed outwardly successful (jazz concerts, cocktails parties) yet felt empty on the inside.
Deep melancholy is what draws you in as soon as the music starts playing, drawing you deeper into bed and away from reality. A sparse acoustic guitar and violin combined with Gates’ plaintive voice create a track that feels totally empty and dissatisfying, perfect for listening while falling asleep or when awakening in the morning.
The song’s lyrics underscore how being alone allows one to enjoy things others might not: peace and quiet as well as dancing with themselves. The singer vows to continue walking this lonely road until someone joins him, yet will take pleasure from dancing alone until that day arrives.
Townes’ haunting voice with slight reverb and finger-picked guitar in Mississippi John Hurt style create a truly haunting quality on this track, showing his talent at its highest peak – one he would later move away from with more abstract lyrics and stream-of-consciousness aphorisms, yet return to on Blood on the Tracks.
It’s Alright
The late 60s and early 70s were an unpredictably volatile period in music, marked by exultant highs (disco, bubblegum pop by artists such as ABBA and The Bee Gees) as well as soul crushing lows – none more so than Ian Hunter’s lament about his dead dog that resonated around the globe with such force that many otherwise masculine 70s males shed tears while listening.
It first reemerged into public awareness in February 2009 when used as the soundtrack for yoghurt company Muller ads, and later that same year in Big Brother’s Big Mouth’s series finale in the UK. First released as East 17’s sixth single from their debut album Walthamstow in November 1993 as number six, this song reached number three on the UK Singles Chart as well as top-five spots across Australia, Germany, Ireland Switzerland and Israel charts; its opening minute starts off slowly before transitioning into dance-pop style for rest of track’s duration.
I’m Not Alone
As opposed to the exhilarating bubblegum highs of the Bee Gees and their peers, the late 60s to early 70s saw an explosion of depressing songs about inner sadness and existential rage during that era. Vietnam, recreational heroin use or just an economy that didn’t work all contributed to a wave of miserable tunes hitting charts during that era – so narrowing this list down was no easy task!
Dylan’s warm husky voice carries this heartbreaking ballad’s mournful melody while finger-picked guitar in Mississippi John Hurt style provides only minimal accompaniment. A moving symphony of despair, it showcases Dylan’s brutal personal honesty that would later change with The Times They Are A-Changin’ but be revisited on Blood on the Tracks.
There are plenty of songs about loneliness (“Eleanor Rigby,” “A Rose for Emily”), but none cut to the core like this one from Gates’ 1975 hit record “Night Train.” With its sparse acoustic guitar and melancholic violin parts combined with Gates’ downcast vocal delivery creating an aura of dread and depression that even men of that time period struggled to keep back the tears when this played on radio – which may well have been intended.