Underwhelming Christmas folk and Americana playlist

Last Valentine’s day, I compiled a little playlist about heartbreak and loneliness to get you into the mood. With the holidays fast approaching, I thought it was high time I dampened your festive spirits. Out with Wham or Mariah Carey, here are your new Christmas fav.

Country artists just LOVE to put out Christmas album. Way back in 1962, the legendary Kitty Wells was a forerunner of the trend. On her album, you’ll fine this heartbreaking gem of a tale of a Christmas spent alone. Thankfully, she added renditions Jingle Bells and Holy Night in the rest of the album to provide a bit more holiday cheer.

This lonely house don’t need no mistletoes for I’m the only one that comes and goes
And since that day you walked out the door well Christmas ain’t like Christmas anymore.


Now, we can all agree that Christmas is the best time to talk to you little girl about her own mortality and how she might experience it before the year is over? Well, that’ exactly what Merle Haggard is doing with this story of a laid-off factory worker who wonders aloud if he’s going to be able to keep is girl fed and warm during the holidays.

Now I don’t mean to hate December
It’s meant to be the happy time of year
And why my little girl don’t understand
Why daddy can’t afford no Christmas here
If we make it through December
Everything’s gonna be alright I know


New Year’s resolution sometimes cannot really wait until January, and you start making plans for the next year as a means to survive the holidays. Like Dolly and the girls of the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas did.

Fine and dandy
Lord it’s like a hard candy Christmas
I’m barely getting through tomorrow
But still I won’t let
Sorrow bring me way down


Of course, sometimes Christmas can be so tough it sends you spiraling into downright denial. And who but Tom Waits to better convey the despair of the underdog that has to spend Christmas poor and lonely? Although, Neko Case does a pretty heart-wrenching cover of the same tune.

Hey Charlie I almost went crazy after Mario got busted
I went back to Omaha to live with my folks
But everyone I used to know was either dead or in prison
So I came back to Minneapolis this time I think I’m gonna stay


Reprising the same them as Kitty Wells did some fifty years before, country darling Kacey Musgraves finds Christmas a little depressing after the loss of her true love. As usual, Musgrave’s always apt to throw in a little bittersweet line to make a seemingly clichéd song a little deeper (and here, more depressing – see below.)

Seems like everybody else is having fun
I wonder if I’m the only one
Who’s broken heart still has broken parts just wrapped in pretty paper
And it’s always sad seeing mom and dad getting a little grayer


Let us finish with the most uplifting (or, the least depressing) song of the bunch: Aimee Mann’s self-penned Calling on Mary, extracted from her 2006 Christmas album One More Drifter in the Snow.

And to all the lost souls down below:
Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas
What’s one more drifter in the snow?
Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas
Happy holidays!
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Songs for the Armistice

Today we remember the end of the first world war. In the folk idiom, war has always been an inspiration for songs of loss, sorrow and disillusion, sometimes veering into the overtly political. I’ve compiled a little playlist to keep you down throughout the day. You’re welcome.

The titular Faded Coat of Blue is that of a Union Soldier during the American Civil war (the Confederates wore gray.) The unidentified narrator, who only speaks of the soldier as “my brave boy”, dwells on his lonely an anonymous death on the battlefield (being buried in a “lonely grave unknown”.) The last words of the dying soldier go to his family:  “And tell my sweet sister, so gentle, good and true,/ That I’ll meet her up in heaven in my faded coat of blue.”

Johnny Has Gone For a Soldier is very probably of English origins, and sounds very similar to Siúil A Rún, an Irish ballad popularized by Clannad. AA Bondy’s version on the album Divided and United, which aims at gathering music from both sides of the Civil War that tore America apart, relies on a spare electric arrangement that strays from the usual traditional approaches. Yet, the minimalist melody and heavy percussive beat give this lament all the emotional force needed to accompany the desperation of a young woman “crying her fill”, facing the double loss of seeing her lover go to war, and having to sell her possessions to help him by equipment “sell you wheel, sell your tin of silver, buy your love a sword of steel”.) From Ireland to England to the young United-States, the adaptations of this song have shown its universal appeal thanks to the narrative voice of a “collateral victim” of war (a them which modern artists will come back to as we’ll see further down.)

The Foggy Dew is much more linked to a particular context: that of the Easter Rising of 1916. With Britain at war on the European front, Irish rebels led an ultimately unsuccessful rising to free Ireland from British rule. Thought the song still extols the value of the rebels and the just cause of war, the narrator cannot help but notice the hefty price to pay to some measure of freedom (“For I parted then with valiant men whom I never shall see more/ But to and fro in my dreams I go and I kneel and pray for you,/ For slavery fled, O glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew.”)

While she refers to no precise conflict, the shadow of Vietnam looms over Joni Mitchell’s 1969 a appella dirge. Her addressee, “Johnny” or “America” itself, has betrayed its values, trading the beautiful “fiddle” pour the military “drums”, trading the “handshake” for the “fist”. Not totally disillusioned, she still tries to make overtures, as a Canadian, to “[her] friend” America, proposing to “help [America] find the peace.” In the final line, she highlight the then almighty position of America on global affair: when it goes to war, we “all […] fear the beating of  [its] drum.”

Collateral damages are put back at the center by Malvina Reynolds when she writes What Have They Done to the Rain? in 1962. When she covered this song, Joan Baez warned her audience: “the gentlest protest song I know: it doesn’t protest gently but it sounds gentle”. And indeed, the end of the first verse sounds gentle enough for one who doesn’t know the message of the song:  “Just a little boy standing in the rain/ The gentle rain that falls for years/ And the grass is gone, the boy disappears/ And rain keeps falling like helpless tears.” However, once you realize that the “rain that falls for year” is the fallout of nuclear testing, the disappearance of the little boy because as gruesome as it is poignant. Without ever mentioning war, Reynolds writes a devastating song about the consequence of arms race and unchecked technological development.

Once again, no specific war is mentioned in the song written by Ochs in 1963 and (hugely) popularized by Baez in 1964. War in itself is not the topic of the song, it is just one element in a list of many social ills. As he mentions crime, alcoholism, or vagrancy, Ochs reminds his listeners of the social realities that lead some to these situations. “Show me the country, where the bombs had to fall/ Show me the ruins of the buildings, once so tall/ And I’ll show you a young land/ With so many reasons why” sings Ochs (or Baez) in his final verse. As long as society doesn’t change, there is no hope to avoid wars. Like the two previous songs, it is hard not to see the influence of the Vietnam war creeping into the lyrics.

I’ve already written about how her anti-Vietnam War positions got Buffy Sainte-Marie blacklisted by the government. Yet, I couldn’t fail to include this song again in such a playlist. Her Universal Soldier is of all nationalities, religions, ages and fights with spears as well as missiles. He will never stop killing, for the sake of ideology as diverse as democracy, communism or fascism, for the fundamental reason that fighter always believe in the righteousness of their cause. The last verse is where the song becomes controversial: “His orders come from far away no more/ They come from him, and you, and me/ and brothers can’t you see/ This is not the way we put an end to war”. She points out our own responsibility in electing warmongers.

In 1985, Suzanne Vega wrote one of the most emotional song about war, The Queen and the Soldier. Reverting the trope of the female voice representing pacifism while the men wage war (as see above in Johnny Has Gone For a Soldier, and below in Travelin’ Soldier), we see this time a male soldier questioning a female ruler about the necessity of war. The Soldier manages to elicit a heartfelt response of the Queen who acknowledges she has no choice but to wage this senseless. However, the Soldier will pay a dear price for this rare moment of earnestness of the Queen when, “ashamed” of having shown her tue feelings, she puts back her iron mask at the expense of the Soldier.

The last song of this playlist is also the most recent one. Release in 2002 by the country-pop outfit Dixie Chicks, the tearjerker would trigger a shitstorm of epic proportions. Seemingly about the Vietnam war, the song follows the exchange between a “pretty little girl with a bow in her hair” and the eponymous travelin’ soldier until [SPOILER] his untimely death on the battlefront. The lyrics send us full-circle back to the oldest song of this playlist: Johnny Has Gone For a Soldier.

Yet, even if we could consider that the narrative isn’t really original, the story of the song itself makes it a powerful antiwar anthem: in 2003, lead singer Natalie Maines introduced the song to a London audience by expressing her shame to share common Texan origins with warmongering president George W. Bush who started a war Iraq that very year. Of course, Southern fans didn’t take it too kindly and went as far as organizing event in which they brought their Dixie Chicks albums to have them rolled over by a bulldozer (!!) Although Maines apologized about attacking the president (still maintaining that “[she] just want[ed] to see every possible alternative exhausted before children and American soldiers’ lives are lost”), and Bush himself spoke up about the singer’s right to her freedom of speech and opinion, the Dixie Chick’s career never quite recovered and they’ve only recently been back in the spotlight.

This playlist can be found here, on my YouTube channel here, with a British bonus, courtesy of Kate Bush (which sadly didn’t fit the specifics of this blog.)

 

Web review: Joni Mitchell edition

Ages ago (ok, back in April) I wrote my last blog post on a French biography of Joni Mitchell. And now with a new biography of Mitchell in English hitting the stores, several publications have been prompted to look back into a career that manages the feat of being genre-bending AND genre-defining.

The New-Yorker: Joni Mitchell’s Openhearted Heroism

Men often wanted Mitchell to be a wife, a muse, a siren, or a star. Instead, they got a genius, and one especially suited to deconstructing their fantasies of her.

The Ringer : Joni Mitchell: Fear of a Female Genius

Over a singular career that has spanned many different cultural eras, she explored—in public, to an almost unprecedented degree—exactly what it meant to be female and free, in full acknowledgement of all its injustice and joy.

No Depression: Like Me, She Had a Dream to Fly

Whatever Joni’s misgivings were about the feminist movement, her music forced the world to make space for the full breadth of women’s ideas and experiences. And my understanding of Joni Mitchell – and, in truth, my understanding of most things – is impossible to separate from my knowledge of women’s struggle for equality. It’s hardwired in the way we forgive Neil Young or Bob Dylan their charming late-career cantankerousness while calling Joni “bitter,” or the way we praise Joni’s beautiful singing voice and confessional songwriting before considering her formidable chops as an experimental composer, multi-instrumentalist, and record producer.

And a belated happy birthday to Mitchell who turned 74 on Nov 7th.

Joni Mitchell, en français dans le texte

Quelques jours après avoir lu un article du Monde sur la récente biographie Joni Mitchell, Songs Are Like Tattoos (Édouard Graham, Les Mots et le Reste, 2017), je me suis retrouvé en librairie, et, sérendipité, j’ai trouvé l’ouvrage. Petite fiche de lecture.

9782360542420FS[1]Joni Mitchell Never Lies

Tout d’abord, je viens à Mitchell en “néophyte”, moi qui ne connait, à part Hejira, que sa “période folk”, des œuvres “de jeunesse” dont elle n’aura de cesse de s’affranchir par la suite de sa carrière. Car c’est par mon premier prof de guitare que j’ai découvert la magie et la complexité de chansons comme Both Sides Now ou Chelsea Hotel. Ensuite, je me suis rendu compte qu’en bon enfant des années 90, j’avais évidemment entendu le sample de son Big Yellow Taxi sur une chanson de Janet Jackson dont le clip montre une jeune Mitchell sur un écran de télé et où l’on peut entendre “Joni Mitchell never lies.”

La biographie par Graham commence donc avant la naissance de Joni, dont les parents attendait un garçon. Elle s’achèvera sur l’hospitalisation de Mitchell et son issue, heureuse: Joni Mitchell apparaissant à un concert de Chick Corea en aout 2016. Au fil des albums, l’auteur effectue des flashbacks sur des moments de la vie de Mitchell qui ont inspiré telle ou telle chanson.

Car chaque album est présenté dans son détail, piste par piste. Riche en décorticage musical, ces descriptions permettent même aux illettrés musicaux tels que moi de comprendre un peu plus le talent de composition d’une femme qui n’a jamais fait de solfège. N’importe quel guitariste qui a tenté de joué Mitchell sait qu’elle affectionne les accordages alternatifs (plus d’une trentaine utilisés en fin de carrière), et l’auteur  nous montre qu’au-delà de cette particularité, Mitchell est tout aussi novatrice avec d’autres instruments (piano désaccordé, percussions africaines, latino-américaines, saxo jazzy, voix en contrepoint…) ou dans sa composition.

Les performances de Joni, en solo, avec un groupe, à la télévision ou lors d’évènements caritatifs sont aussi amplement détaillées autant dans les setlists que dans l’attitude de Joni à chacune d’entre elle. Cela laisse voir une personne de caractère, qui n’hésitera pas à répondre à un fan demandant un rappel que personne n’a osé demander à Van Gogh de peindre un deuxième Nuit Étoilée. Des années plus tard, elle répondra à une demande similaire qu’elle n’est pas un juke box.

L’engagement politique de l’artiste (pour l’écologie, en faveur des peuples natifs des US et du Canada, pour le droit des femmes) n’est pas en reste.

Tout cela donne un portait contrasté d’une artiste complète et complexe, et de son œuvre protéiforme; et fait du livre, grâce à sa structure très narrative, une belle entrée dans la carrière de Mitchell, ou un outil d’approfondissement pour ceux qui (comme moi) s’étaient limités à la période “folk” de l’artiste.

Comment ne pas parler d’une femme

Là où la biographie pèche le plus, c’est dans le traitement de la vie de Mitchell. Le Monde arguait que “Edouard Graham combine, par une écriture précise, l’analyse et le factuel.” Je ne peux malheureusement pas souscrire à cette description. Dans son analyse des textes et de leur portée autobiographique, Graham évite l’écueil de simplifier la portée des textes: il souligne en effet que ceux-ci dépasse la simple “confession” (qu’on attribue souvent aux auteures/interprètes féminines) pour devenir des œuvres d’arts ou des messages universels. Par contre, quand il s’agit de s’attaquer lui même à la vie de femme de Mitchell, il reste encore du travail.

J’ai trouvé plusieurs formules particulièrement… maladroites ? Ainsi pour décrire sa dernière performance vocale en direct, Graham nous explique que “c’est une jeune vieille dame un peu épaissie qui se lance dans un “Furry Sings The Blues”.” (p.372) L’oxymore n’excuse pas la description aussi inutile que déplacée sur la silhouette de l’autre/compositrice/musicienne/interprète. (Bon, on peut se “rassurer” en ce disant qu’une attention presque équitable aura été portée par l’auteur à la calvitie de James Taylor…)

3677[1]Pas mieux quand il s’agit d’aborder la vie amoureuse de Joni. Alors que l’auteur souligne que Mitchell a été ulcérée quand Rolling Stone a publié une cartographie de ses relations sentimentales, il ne se prive pas de placer des phrases telles que “rien moins que trois ex-amants ont été sollicités pour assurer les chœurs: David Crosby, Graham Nash, James Taylor…” (p. 168)

Ces relations sont mises en scène par l’auteur avec une certaine théâtralité: Joni Mitchell participe en 1986 à un concert caritatif mais ne chante pas en solo lors du grand final “contrairement à ceux qui ont négocié leur tour au sein de cette foire d’empoigne: Joan Baez ou Jackson Brown, par exemple A quelques pas, la rivale historique et l’ex-amant méprisé accaparent des micros. Légèrement en retrait, enlacée par un Larry Klein protecteur, la Canadienne regarde ailleurs.” (p.269)

On en arrive ainsi au trope de la rivalité féminine. L’auteur oppose Mitchell à Baez en plusieurs endroit du livre, ou en supposant une rivalité entre Joni Mitchell et Judee Sill (p.109) Alors, certes, Mitchell s’en est prise à Baez dans la presse, mais bon, elle s’en est aussi prise à tout un tas d’autres musiciens homme ou femme (dont Dylan), sans que l’auteur ne le mentionne. La rivalité entre femmes est toujours plus vendeuse. Ainsi l’auteur ne peut pas s’empêcher de faire une petite référence à un “crêpage de chignon, diversement rapporté par la presse” (p. 324) entre Carly Simon et Chrissie Hynde lors d’un concert de Joni en 1995. Intérêt pour la description du concert en question ? Aucun.Bread & Roses IV

Ces défauts m’ont donc un peu fait grincer des dents à la lecture, mais la richesse des informations biographiques et musicales font de se livre une très bonne lecture pour quiconque aime la musique nord américaine en général, rockeur.se, folkeux.se, jazz.wo.man ou simple mélomane.

« Joni Mitchell, Songs Are Like Tattoos », d’Edouard Graham, éd. Le Mot et le reste, 24 €.

Every goddam reason Joan Baez is Rock and Roll

Let’s face it, she DOES belong in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She’s never really gone electric, she got famous singing British ballads and the occasional country tune, and you can’t really compare her lifestyle to that of Janis Joplin. But if the definition of folk music is today elastic enough to accommodate acts like Mumford & Sons or First Aid Kit that rely more or less heavily on electric guitars, basses, drums and synths… then Rock & Roll can live with Baez as a high priestess.Baezprotest

1) Because she’s “a Secret Badass”

I mean, come on, when even Rolling Stones calls you Badass, you belong to any Rock and Roll pantheon.

In 2010, when she was invited to perform at a White House celebration of music from the civil-rights era, Baez refused a request, from Michelle Obama, to sing “If I Had a Hammer.” “That is the most annoying song,” Baez says. “I told them, ‘If I had a hammer – I’d hit myself on the head. Ain’t gonna do it.’ ”

The article goes on to prove (as if proof was needed) that Baez is as relevant today as she was back in the sixties, leading the way as a protest singer (for Civil Rights and against Vietnam War in the sixties, to Standing Rock and Women’s marches in the late 2010s through Sarajevo in the 1990s.


2) Because she “rocked the folk world”

She got her start in Boston, and the Boston Globe hasn’t forgotten it. Recalling those early days, the journalist writes:

Almost overnight, Baez was a sensation, attracting a following of motorcycle-riding Harvard boys. When she made her second appearance at the Newport Folk Festival in 1960, she showed up in a hipster’s hearse, with a biker escort. She was the “Rebel Queen,” wrote Rooney and Von Schmidt.

Yup, before Dylan went electric at Newport, Baez went biker chick (chic?) The article of the Globe focuses on Baez’ rock and roll personality and style of performance, which belies the image she used to give.

3) Because she’s an “American Master”

A little older now (2009), this hour-long documentary follows Baez’ musical and militant career. Watching her walk to school with Black kids in Birmingham or walk among the ruins of eastern Europe, it’s hard to ignore the drive and the implication of Baez who’s sweet pristine soprano (in her early days) does little to hide her drive and iron determination to make the world a better, fairer place. And if going against the system for such reasons isn’t rock and roll, then nothing is.s

4) Because she wrote Diamonds and Rust:

Finally, the best proof that Baez is indeed Rock and Roll is perhaps her most famous song, Diamonds and Rust. Ironic and disenchanted, this tune written and composed by Baez has been covered by Judas Priest and Ritchie Blackmore’s band, thus proving that it belonged to the rock and roll canon. The way Baez sings it today, with her voice fully using its lower register, gives it even more grit.

5) Because Patti Smith said so:

If Patti Smith invites you to rock, you ARE rock.

She was suddenly among us, not claiming to lead but leading by example, guiding us towards a new path of creative expression synonymous with activism civil rights and the anti war movement. 16th century had their Joan of Arc, and we have our Joan Baez. – Patti Smith

Songbirds/jailbirds: the “tradition” of prison performance

A few days ago, all-around Goddess Rhiannon Giddens performed and gave a workshop in Sing Sing penitentiary, a maximum-security prison. A surprising and yet logical choice for the artiste whose sophomore solo-album was just released on Feb. 24th under the title of Freedom Highway. As explained in a New York Times article, Giddens had previously attended a concert at the facility, which inspired her to write a track that would be feature on her album: Better Get it Right The First Time, which has been presented in most reviews as a “Black Lives Matter Anthem.” The song, about police brutality, is replete with reference to “standing [one’s] ground” the infamous law used as a defense by George Zimmerman after he shot Trayvon Martin in 2012, being “shot anyway”, etc… What drove her to write the piece after this initial visit to Sing Sing is the realization of how skewed the penal system was in the US.  “I was struck by how black the population is. I knew that in my head, but seeing it just kind of hurt.” A perception that is confirmed by most statistics, as those of the NAACP. This disproportionate incarceration rate has far-reaching effects on African-Americans convicts during and after their incarceration, and on the families as well, as described in an analysis by the Washington Post. This issue could only affect Rhiannon Giddens, whose new album centers around self-penned songs based on slave narratives. Ironically, she couldn’t play Better Get it Right The First Time at Sing Sing due to its subject matter.

giddens-prison
Karsten Moran for the New York Times

Giddens is not the first roots artist to go down this road. Part of Johnny Cash’s legend is probably due to his 1968 Live At Folsom Prison and 1969 Live At Saint Quentin.

Cash had received letters from inmates after performing Folsom Prison Blues for the first time and decided to stage a concert a prison, bringing along his second wife, June Carter.

A few years later, in 1972, BB King and Joan Baez, among other, would take the stage at Sing Sing, setting a precedent for Giddens’ performance. In the clip below, Baez and her sister Mimi Fariña sing and banter with the inmates, with an interesting choice of songs: Dylan’s I Shall be Released and Viva Mi Patria Bolivia. The Baez sisters being of Mexican heritage on their father’s side, the choice to sing a Latin American song in Spanish could be interpreted along the lines drawn by Rhiannon Giddens in her observation on the make up of the prison’s population.The cheers they draw from the crowd as they begin the song seems to indicate that the latino population is also over-represented at the penitentiary. A problem that still persists into the 21st century.

Prisons and convicts have also often been a source of inspiration for root artists. But that’s another story, and shall be covered in another blog post. Stay tuned!

Rhiannon Giddens performed at Sing Sing thorugh the Musical Connection program of Carnegie Hall: https://www.carnegiehall.org/musicalconnections/singsing/
The late Mimi Fariña started her own foundation to bring music to people in various institutions: prisons, hospitals, nursing homes…. http://www.breadandroses.org/

Underwhelming Valentine’s day folk songs

Folk and roots music hasn’t never been the happiest, especially when love is concerned. I won’t even get into the murder ballads… but I couldn’t resist compiling a little playlist of songs of longing, lost love and absence. Enjoy (or not.)

The complaint of the forlorn lover

Once I had a sweetheart, and now I have none
He’s gone he’s left me me, to weep and to mourn.

This classic British folk song has been covered by Joan Baez, Pentangle, or Marianne Faithful, but my favorite version is by newcomer Pippa Day in the finals of Bath Folk Festival New Shoots competition.

My heart is sad I am lonely
For the only one I love
When shall I see him oh no never
‘Til we meet in heaven above

Crossing over the ocean, a classic among classics of American folk, Bury Me Beneath the Willow has been a favorite lament to sing during old-time jams. Simple an evocative, the narrator is penning his/her final words to a spouse-to-be who eloped with another. I may be partial to Rosanne Cash’s version as it was my first introduction to the song, but I find her velvet voice to carry just the right hue of resignation and acceptance, with a tinge of desperation.

 

Are you lonesome tonight, do you miss me, I say
Are you sorry we drifted apart

From the Carter Family to Elvis, everyone and their broken-hearted dog seems to have covered this song, so I just randomly picked Kacey Musgrave’s version.

Country heartbreak

Love is like a dyin’ ember
Only memories remain
Through the ages I’ll remember
Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain

Country music coming from a rural place, the niceties of love often had to face the hardships of life. Needless to say, happy endings rarely prevail.

 

“Go”, she said, “And work with haste
And bring the bales into the barn
Else the crop will go to waste
And the babe will wait till the work is done”

Although not country in its style, Anaïs Mitchell’s song Shepherd (adapted from a short story by her father) is definitely about love in rural America. A tragic tale of labor and loss, sung in the ever-delicate voice of Mitchell…

Lover’s blues

The only thing different
The only thing new
I’ve got these little things
She’s got you

So this is cheating as it was first a country song by Patsy Cline, but Giddens’ bluesy version really adds to the feeling of regret and lament of an abandoned woman looking back at her former relationship.

She said I don’t know if I’ll be back
Or if you’ll want me if I come
But if and when that happens, dear
You better let my sweet dream run
Oh, let my sweet dream run

Made famous by Emmylou Harris,  Broken Man’s Lament in its original version by Marc Germino is far bluesier. The lyrics tell of a man whose accepting wife can only be pushed so far before she leaves.

When I was a young girl
Well I had me a cowboy
It weren’t much to look at
Just a free ramblin’ man
But that was a long time
And no matter how I tried
Those years just flow by
Like a broken down dam

Perhaps even better know than the original by John Prine, Angel From Montgomery by Bonnie Raitt is one of the most heartbreaking songs that illustrates how in love and life, things sometimes don’t go according to plan.