One of my favorite annual traditions is an event called “Stories & Songs,” hosted by a family near and dear to us. Each December, a group of friends—some who see each other all the time, others for whom it’s been months or even a whole year—walk in the door with a story or song (or poem or joke or…you get the idea) to share, whether their own or someone else’s. The only requirement is that it’s meant something to them at some point during the year.
Offerings have ranged anywhere between a reading of the “timshel” excerpt from East of Eden to a cheeky upright bass and ukelele cover of “I’m Yours.” Profound poems, hilarious anecdotes, group sing-alongs, and college application essays all hold equal sway in this special, set-aside space where, as one guest put it, we gather “for the sole purpose of listening to one another.” Catharsis is the word that comes to mind, as much if not more from hearing the hearts of others as from sharing what’s been heavy inside of mine.
As Stories & Songs approached this year, I felt like 2022 had left me with zero imaginative energy. In the throes of adjusting to a brand new job while still processing my painful departure from the one that came before, I hadn’t even picked up my guitar in what felt like ages. Then one morning, I walked downstairs and Kelsey said, “You really need to listen to ‘Good Intentions Paving Company’ again.”
When Kelsey says something like that, it’s rarely just from a place of “hey, this is a good song, you should give it a listen.” There’s always a subtext to her recommendations, heavy with her own understanding of me and what I need to hear in that moment.
So I returned to this beloved YouTube video I’d discovered years before—a truly inspired performance of the song by some of my favorite musical voices: Aoife O’Donovan, Chris Eldridge, and Julian Lage.
Kelsey was right, of course.
I’ve always resonated deeply with this song, but never in a way I can quite put my finger on. As an Enneagram 5, my MO is to feast upon the details of a song, investigating what makes it “tick” and speak to me so intimately. But I have yet to crack the code on this one. The best I can do is to tell you it conveys brilliantly the tension between futility and hope. The same narrator possesses both the resolute “will to remain for the duration” and an embarrassing inability to open a honey jar. And “that right there,” she sings, “is where we are.”
Well, that’s where I’ve been this year, too. It’s been frustrating, liberating, humbling (sometimes even humiliating), and hope-rekindling, all at the same time. Kelsey told me to learn this song and sing it for Stories & Songs, so I picked up my out-of-tune guitar and sang it over and over again until all of its many lyrics had sunken into my subconcsious.
A couple more notes about this song:
It was originally written and sung by Joanna Newsom. I’ve never listened to anything else of hers—all I know is how much I adore this song. And if I’m being super honest, I haven’t even gotten through the entire recording of her singing it, because her vocal style is…ahem…jarring. She may be totally your thing, and if so, power to you. But if you want to hear this song as I first heard it, I recommend starting with the video above. It goes down a little easier than the original.
My favorite lyric is this one: “In our quiet hour, I feel I see everything and I’m in love with the hook upon which everyone hangs.” I mean, come on! That’s the good stuff! Also, anyone who can write the line “so with a solemn auld lang syne, sealed, delivered I sang” has my eternal admiration. Lyrics like that are when songwriting = magic.
And now, here’s my New Year’s gift to you: “Good Intentions Paving Company,” with lyrics below.
Twenty miles left to the show
Hello, my old country, hello
Stars are just beginning to appear
And I have never in my life before been here
And it's my heart, not me, who cannot drive
At which conclusion you arrived
Watching me sit bolt upright and cry for no good reason
At the eastering sky
And the tilt of this strange nation
And the will to remain for the duration
Waving the flag, feeling it drag
Like a bump on a bump on a log, baby
Like I'm in a fistfight with the fog, baby
Step, ball, change, and a pirouette
And I regret, I regret
How I said to you, "Honey, just open your heart"
When I have trouble even opening a honey jar
And that right there is where we are
Well I've been 'fessing double fast
Addressing questions nobody asked
I'll get this joy off of my chest at last
And I will love you till the noise has long since passed
And I did not mean to shout, just drive
Just get us out dead or alive
The road's too long to mention, Lord, it's something to see
Laid down by the Good Intentions Paving Company
All the way to the thing we've been playing at, darling
I can see that you're wearing your staying hat, darling
For the time being all is well
Won't you love me a spell?
This is blindness beyond all conceiving
While behind us the road is leaving, leaving
Falling back like a rope gone slack
And I saw straightaway that the lay was steep
But I fell for you, honey, easy as falling asleep
And that right there is the course I keep
And no amount of talking is gonna soften the fall
But like after the rain, step out from the overhang, that's all
It had a nice ring to it when the old Opry House rang
So with a solemn auld lang syne, sealed, delivered I sang
And there is hesitation, and it always remains
Concerning you, me, and the rest of the gang
But in our quiet hour I feel I see everything
And I'm in love with the hook upon which everyone hangs
And I know you meant to show the extent
To which you gave a goddang
You ranged real hot and real cold, but I'm sold
I'm at home on that range
And I do hate to fold right here at the top of my game
When I've been trying with my whole heart and soul
To stay right here in the right lane
But it can make you feel over and old
Lord, you know it's a shame
When all I want's for you to pull over and hold me
Till I can't remember my own name
Wishing you hope, soul-nourishing rest, and the promise of something new in 2023.
-Drew
This song's got big lyrics; there's so much to read between the lines. I love songs like that. Stories & Songs sounds like a great tradition! I'd probably have brought "Whatever Comes Next" this year; I found it this year and I really appreciate it. Somebody turned it on at circa midnight last night (...or morning?...) and we actually did raise our glasses to whatever came next.