47. 5 Songs To Play At a Funeral
Obviously, I’m one of those music fans that enjoys lists. Best-ofs, worst-ofs, event, occasion, single purpose and, of course, lists of meaningful songs.
I’ve made them for long drives, holidays, plane trips, commutes, the gym, Christmas, dancing, and just about every event I can think of.
Of course, I’m sure the DJ at my wedding appreciated my ‘input’ into the song list for the reception.
And my TGNW is yet to express her gratitude for the one I made for the delivery of our son.
But is it an obsessive bridge too far to have a list of songs for one’s own funeral? Is it pure ego to actually set out what you want from your own funeral?
Let’s find out.
As I’ve written before, I’m well aware of the looming inevitability of loss that is in front of me.
Maybe it’s a function of working in insurance, or my reality-based cynicism, but either way I’m very conscious of the fact that the people I know and love will, at some stage, fall ill, or be injured, or pass away.
In some ways it’s an awful thing, being so aware of this avalanche of sadness slowly rolling down the mountain ahead of me.
But in other ways it’s quite wonderful – it certainly makes you appreciate the people in your life and the moments you get to have with them.
Adjacent to this awareness, of course, is the acceptance that I too will die at some stage. I’ve gotten in trouble saying this before, as though just uttering such an inalienable truth is to bring it about prematurely.
But it is inevitable, and whether it happens because of an accident, an illness or something completely unexpected, it is going to happen.
And when it does, a memorial service or funeral will need to be arranged.
The planning of which will come with several complexities and considerations.
Because of the belief that a funeral has to be a significant event with all of the trappings we – or the funeral industry, more accurately – have decided are necessary.
And it’s tremendously difficult to confront this grift in the moment of sincere grief.
This is how it’s always done, after all, so why listen to that voice in the back of your mind saying ‘they wouldn’t have wanted this at all’?
Fancy flowers, solemn venue, shiny casket, string music, the whole ‘considerate’ box and dice.
Well, not for me thank you.
Nope.
I’m gone, leaving behind memories (mainly good, hopefully) and a body that needs to be disposed of (less likely to be any good, probably).
And making these arrangements in the moment is a damned sight harder with no idea of what the departed would actually want.
So here’s a bit of a summary of my thoughts on the matter.
I want the mechanics done as efficiently and cheaply as possible, before a farewell service that confronts the new reality and remembers the past while celebrating what has been.
My preference is that I’m cremated, in a dirt-cheap coffin, out of cardboard ideally. Being cheap needs to the priority.
No big wreaths of flowers, please, or ribbons or anything shiny. I loathe buying cut flowers so laying in a room festooned with them feels icky.
There’ll be tears, I imagine (hope?).
The saddest part of any memorial for me is the idea of what the departed will miss in the future and – presuming I pass away before seeing my children reach adulthood – that idea is incredibly saddening.
But it can’t all be tears.
It has to be a party after the sad bit.
Something between Kilcunda and a family barbecue. Outside preferably.
We’ve just had a lovely Christmas lunch out the back of my dad’s house – that feels like a perfect venue.
The people we know and love there to help support my family with things.
The people we know who can’t sit still, there to help set up, serve and pack up at the end.
The ones we know that are great story tellers and great listeners and bad dancers.
The cynics, the innocents, the accomplices, the leaders, the followers, the grizzled and the grizzlers that I’m lucky enough to have in my life.
Lots of drink for those that want it, lots of food for those that need to prepare it, lots of room for the kids to run around and mess up their nice clothes. Lots of wood in the bonfire and plenty of shade from the sun.
Lots of music, stories and laughter about the variety of dumb stuff we managed to fit into my time here. Please, not the sanitised tale of a life ‘well-lived’, they have to be the honest truth.
The time I avoided an injection at the dentists because I thought it cost extra.
The time I tripped over my own feet and did a somersault, only to find my TGNW laughing at me.
The time I caught the roof racks on the roof of carpark, peeling them off the top of the car. And the concussion I gave myself checking the damage, after smashing my head against a very hard steel pipe.
The time I got caught at the station at the end of the train line. I won’t be publishing those details publicly, that’s for sure.
The time with the headless wombat. The time I washed the pegs. The time I got us lost. The time in Sydney. The time in Paris. The time in London. The time in Malaysia.
The scrapes, risks, jokes, mistakes, fun, laughs of a life are far more interesting than any ‘achievements’ or ‘success’ – I’d prefer you to talk about them while the music plays.
And I have some requests about the music, naturally.
During the formalities, I appreciate there needs to be some sad music, so I nominate the probably-a-bit-cliched ‘Last Goodbye’ by Jeff Buckley. This song brings a dampness to my eye just sitting at my desk, so I can only imagine what it’ll do at a funeral.
I love this song.
It’s haunting, with that voice flowing through it like molten gold. That loud snare drum, the bittersweet guitar melody and the lyrics.
And as it plays, I want you to look around and note who isn’t crying. Those people can’t be trusted; stay away from them!
But that’s it for out-and-out sad songs.
I’d love for the next song to be ‘Do You Realize??’ by The Flaming Lips. This curiously punctuated track contains the thing I want people to remember afterwards, that:
That everyone you know someday will die
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
Life, like all things, is temporary. This isn’t something to dread, or fear, or bemoan. It’s this very limitation that makes it valuable.
So don’t waste it, don’t ignore it, take what you have and spend it on the things that matter – people, connection, community, love.
Then it’s time to move into celebratory mode and I’m yet to come across a song better suited for that transition than the Polyphonic Spree’s ‘Light & Day / Reach for the Sun’.
Starting as a low-key melody, it quickly climbs into a jaunty celebration of the time we have here, with these people and with this life.
It’s full, vibrant and joyous, as a good life should be.
Now, I’ll assume the formalities would have been concluded by this stage, but in case they haven’t it’s time to step things up a bit and what better to do that than Rage Against the Machine’s cover of ‘Kick Out The Jams’?
Hopefully it will jar with the occasion and leave more than a few people quite confused – I can already think of the quizzical look a few friends would have on their faces as that scratchy guitar elbows its way into the track.
Plus, the looks of mild confusion as people try to work out quite why he chose this song – of all songs – to play at the end of his funeral make me smile.
And, finally, at some stage on the day I’d really, really like ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)’ to be played.
Not ironically, or for anything silly, I just bloody love this song and can’t see how anybody could remain sad while those handclaps and synths take over the speakers.
And I hope someone – the kids, maybe, or their parents, my friends and family – gives into the deep danceability of this song and starts moving.
Slowly at first, respectfully, but gradually, as Ms Houston’s voice really kicks in, that veneer of respectability melts away and they start dancing properly.
Because by this stage I want it to be a celebration.
Sure, I’m gone, but you’re all still here and you have each other, and you have what we had while I was there. That’s something to celebrate, and what better way to celebrate than dancing to this rolled gold, 100% classic?
Of course, being this prescriptive screams ego and control tendencies, so maybe this won’t be how it goes.
Hey, do what you want – what do I care?
I’ll be dead!
