Falling Slowly, Echoing Long
The Unfiltered Legacy of Glen Hansard
So if you have something to say
Say it to me now
Just say it to me now, now
Oh, oh, oh, no, no
—Glen Hansard, Say It To Me Now, from the movie Once
On July 30, the world lost a fine songwriter. Glen Hansard died in a motorcycle crash outside Dublin at 56. Fittingly, the Oscar winner was playing music with locals in an Irish pub hours earlier. If you saw him live or have watched a performance, you know he wrote songs the way he seemed to live: wide open, unguarded, giving everything to whoever was in the room. The public responses to his passing are noteworthy, including Bono, Bruce Springsteen, Eddie Vedder, and even former President Obama.
We offer this surprise summer Swap in honor of Glen!
We plan to be back soon to kick off the fall season. Stay tuned.
Guest pick from Matthew Rasmussen: “Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová
“You have suffered enough and warred with yourself. It’s time that you won.”
In 2008, Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová won an Academy Award for Best Original Song, in one of the most delightful and deserving Oscar wins of the past 25 years. The movie for which they won, Once, follows two street musicians who meet at a delicate time, a moment when their lives are both at an emotional crossroads. A tiny film with a titanic heart, it’s the kind of movie that will stay with you for a lifetime -- one which breaks your heart but also vibrantly reaffirms the beauty of being alive. I love it so, so much.
Sadly, Glen died a few weeks ago in a tragic motorcycle accident. Hours before, he’d been in a suburban pub, playing music with fellow locals. Not a concert or official performance to my knowledge, just a guy doing what he loved. What a way to go.
Farewell, Glen. Thank you (and Markéta!) for this wonderful gift of a movie.
Ben’s Pick: Bird of Sorrow
Glen Hansard wrote this song for his mom - after his dad died (62 years old). I listened to this song in a new way after his own untimely death. While he intended to tell his mom that he wanted her to be open to new love (watch a humorous story about that), the lyrics feel bigger than he intended, especially for those who hope in the resurrection. He sings, ‘Love is gonna find you, love is gonna find you, you better be ready then.”
Enjoy this slow, calm folk-ballad that grows into a classic, cathartic Hansard sound.
Kody’s Pick: Fairytale of New York City
Glen Hansard did not write this song, but he performed it at Shane MacGowan’s funeral (the man who wrote it).
It’s a beautiful song and beautifully performed here.
Notice how it generates some impromptu dancing.
As I often say, “music, man…”
Bonus Track: A Tribute to Glen Hansard
—by Taylor Worley
“Why does this one hurt so much?” That’s the question I’ve been asking myself over the several days since I - and the rest of the world - woke up to the shocking news of Glen’s passing. Yes, it was sudden, and yes, we could call it “too soon.” But why this lingering ache?
While I’ve always found him mesmerizing and astounding and indelibly cool, I don’t have him in my regular rotation. And while I’ve listened to nearly all of them to varying degrees, I don’t think I could name more than an album or two. Of course, like so many, I was changed by seeing Once (2007), and his voice would be forever recognizable to me for it. So, maybe it hurts so bad because I didn’t appreciate him enough. Maybe he was a bigger star than my meager fandom would attest? How wrong was I to miss so much of his greatness while he was here?
I’m probably not alone in taking my grief to YouTube. While I had seen his recent Trackstar episode already, I wanted to go deeper. Actually, I started trading videos back and forth with the particular friends that this loss forced me to check on. In clip after clip - through frequent tears I’ll admit - I began to see something else calling to me.
I saw Glen give in to a crowd’s request and call his mother in the middle of a performance, asking her to sing along with him. That moment seemed as raw for him as it was unscripted.
I listened as Glen unpacked the most earnest story you’d ever hope to hear about an artist meeting their hero. Yes, Glen met and traded songs with Van Morrison until the sun came up.
I watched Glen lead an encore of “The Auld Triangle” that with each verse roped in one friend after another (and eventually his sound guy). By the end, every beating heart in Dublin’s Iveagh Gardens joined in.
All of these moments attest so well to his unparalleled gift for bringing folks together, for pulling momentary, communal magic out of thin air. Once a busker; always so, I guess. Heartwrenchingly, his funeral has been one of his last gifts to us in this respect (with his friends serenading him out to Dylan’s “Forever Young”).
“Does everyone get a verse before the song’s over?” Glen’s life - and especially his uninhibited, unstoppable celebration of others - seems to be lived completely in response to that question. Now, I see that alongside his great speeches and beautiful lyrics, his true legacy is a full-throated “Yes!” We’ll be listening to his songs for a while, but let’s also look closely at how he carried the show, how he shared the stage, and how he was as much a song leader or choir director as a lone bard.
It’s clear. He was always still just one of us, and it hurts like that. None of us are alone in feeling that we’ve lost a faithful friend. Like us, he was still a fan. Like us, he was just grateful to be in the room when the songs were sung. We knew him to be the life of the party but never the center of attention. That’s why it feels like we’ve lost someone much closer to us than just another great artist.
So, over these sad days, I’ve found myself looking for his covers. There’s a remarkable energy in those places where he was celebrating so well the work of others. I’ve settled on an EP of covers called It Was Triumph We Once Proposed… Songs of Jason Molina that Glen made in the aftermath of the tragic, “too soon” loss of his friend. They were longtime comrades and tour mates, and this small collection of songs only got recorded after Glen met up with Jason’s band to simply jam and grieve through his music.
Of course, grief triggers more grief, and new pain stirs up old stuff that’s never truly settled. And yet perhaps, Glen can lead another round for us, like he sang out his grief for his friend in “Hold On Magnolia.” At the time, he excluded Jason’s third verse from the recording - perhaps it was too painful to him then, but in light of all that Glen has given us, we should put it back in.
Hold on Magnolia to that great highway moon
No one has to be that strong
But if you’re stubborn like me
I know what you’re trying to be
Hold on Magnolia, I hear that station bell ring
You might be holding the last light I see
Before the dark finally gets a hold of me
Hold on Magnolia, I know what a true friend you’ve been
In my life I have had my doubts
But tonight I think I’ve worked it out with all of them
Hold on Magnolia to the thunder and the rain
To the lightning that has just signed my name to the bottom line
Hold on Magnolia, I hear that lonesome whistle whine
Hold on Magnolia
I think it’s almost time
Taylor Worley is an author and professor in Chicago. If you want to talk about contemporary art or theological aesthetics, he’s your guy. We asked him a few questions about music and food: He saw Pink Floyd in 1994 (the Division Bell Tour). His first CD was Pearl Jam’s Ten, and he still has the original, cardboard longbox if anyone wants to see it. He is looking forward to seeing (or experiencing, I guess) an interactive installation and performance thing called “Theater of the Mind,” co-created by David Byrne (founder of the band Talking Heads). If you are in Chicago, he recommends Little Goat Diner in Lakeview for some elevated, comfort food. (Foodie offerings with Midwest portions!)
Thanks for reading!
And may all your favorite bands stay together.
-TheMusicSwap