This morning, as I was rushing around getting ready to go out, I had the pleasure of hearing one of my favorite Kinks songs played on SIRIUSXM's "Underground Garage" radio: "The World Keeps Going 'Round," originally released in 1965. As I listened to it once again, I began to understand how my interpretation of the song had changed throughout my life, what the lyrics said to me, and I once marveled at how a simple set of words can bring so much to us. A gifted artist, such as composer Ray Davies, has the skills to offer us work that has shades and nuance, things we often cannot appreciate on a first listen.
When this song was written, Davies was a young man of 21, overwhelmed with the demands of new pop music stardom and the responsibilities of caring for an even-younger wife and their newborn daughter. "The World Keeps Going 'Round" is an early example of Davies moving away from the typical pop love song -- something he seemed to have mixed feelings about, anyway -- towards more reflective, personal material. At 21 years of age, the lyrics are a somber statement; the inevitable disillusionment with the world and its systems and people, the fall from a youthful "we can change things, we can do better than the generation before us" to "why care, why bother, why try?" The arrow of hope shot high into the sky from a child lands with a deep, predictable thud by young adulthood, sometimes driving far into the ground. Seeing things as the are and not how you imagined them to be is a bitter lesson for us all.
What's the use of worrying 'bout the big ol' sun
You worry 'bout the rain
The rain keeps falling just the same
You worry when the one you need has found somebody new
But the world keeps going round
The world keeps going round
You just can't stop it
The world keeps going round
You worry 'bout yourself
What's the use of worrying now you're almost grown
You worry 'bout your own
What's the use of worrying 'cause you'll die alone
Times will be hard, rain will fall
And you'll feel mighty low
But the world keeps going round
The world keeps going round
You just can't stop it
The world keeps going round
Times will be hard, rain will fall
And you'll feel mighty low
But the world keeps going round
The world keeps going round
The world keeps going round
The world keeps going round
You just can't stop it
The world keeps going round
The world keeps going round
Almost 50 years later, both Ray Davies and I qualify for membership in AARP, and have been around the block plenty of times. With every corner rounded, it is always a hope that you learn and grow from your experiences, both pleasant and challenging. In "The World Keeps Going 'Round," my years have stacked well and strong, so that I can see more of the big picture within it. I no longer think of the endless patterns and routines of the world as impersonal and cold, going on without me, making my worries, my joys, and my entire existence meaningless. The cycle of days that turn into weeks and months and years and decades no longer seem to be a terrifying, heartless steamroller. No, what I hear now in this song is this: yes, bad things are going to happen to you, yes, you can't always count on people, yes, you will never have control over everything in your life...but...
Every time the world goes 'round, you get another chance. You get another day to make things better, to get move towards the life you want to have and to become the person you want to be. Some things fade and die, but others form and bloom. Along with all the harshness, life will always also bring you absolute beauty, grace, kindness, and delight. That the world keeps turning and keeps giving us the opportunity to be refreshed and renewed rather than wearing us down is actually a tremendous gift, and, I think, a more accurate perspective to trust in.
As I finished listening to the song while brushing my hair and thinking about it all, the next song began to play. It was Little Richard's "Rip It Up," which I thought was rather perfectly timed. I smiled.
Well, it's Saturday night, indeed.
Little Richard, "Rip It Up"
© Copyright 2008- Marianne Spellman