Week 346: “Funeral” by Sonya Kitchell


Ladies and gentlemen, we gather this week to mourn the passing of 2016. Or, for some of us, celebrate the passing of 2016.

2016 was a complicated year. A year of contradictions. A year that gave, a year that took away. He wasn’t particularly popular, or good-looking, or skilled. He had a short temper. He fought a lot. But he had good intentions.

He loved music, and he was the type who was always eager to share his latest playlist with us. He gave us stellar new work from Radiohead, Beyoncé, James Blake, Chance the Rapper, Bon Iver, Paul Simon, The Avalanches, and so many more.

But in the same breath, he took some of our favourite musicians with him. Sharon Jones. Leonard Cohen. Bowie. Prince. And on Christmas day, George Michael.

2016 always said exactly what was on his mind, and this tended to be divisive among his friends. People avoided talking politics in his presence, as his extreme views tended to drive people to opposite sides of the room. In trying to engage people, he inadvertently pushed them apart, creating a sad, solemn silence from which we are all still recovering.

To make up for it, 2016 tried to throw a big party for everyone in Rio de Janeiro…but even that didn’t work out as planned. Some people turned it down for health reasons, while others had their invitations cancelled for drug use.

As 2016 fades into our memories, let’s not dwell on the shortcomings. Let’s remember that unlike people, years come with automatic do-overs. Time is a conveyor belt of blank slates that keeps moving regardless of what we did with the last one.

So rather than dwell on it, let’s honour 2016 by learning from him. And moving on.

What makes this a beautiful song:

1. The verse alternates between 6/4 and 4/4 time. The effect is subtle but significant: despite the quiet nature of the song, there’s something slightly unsettling about musical measures ending before your brain thinks they should.

2. At 2:04, a beautiful humming choir emerges. A choir at a funeral.

3. The lyrics manage to be political without being overly preachy. The message, to me, is that we’re all at this funeral together, and regardless of which side of the aisle we’re sitting on, it’s not healthy to grieve alone.

Recommended listening activity:

Using a 2016 calendar as kindling.

Buy it here.