Death and Music

There’s a new poll out that suggests that popular music is becoming more prevalent in funerals than traditional hymns.  You could pretty much file this under “Things I Could Have Told You Last Week.”  But it’s interesting to see it so scientific–or at least not just my experience.

At both The Mister’s Grandpa’s and Grandma’s funerals the service ended with Willie Nelson’s rendition of “I’ll Be Seeing You.”  Talk about a tear-jerker.  At my parents’ neighbor’s funeral, the service included a polka.  At Mr. CVD’s dad’s service, Elvis Costello, his favorite artist, stood out amongst others.  Imagine walking into a funeral home to hear “Pump It Up.” It certainly changes the scene.

I’ve often thought about my own funeral service.  This is such a morbid fascination of mine that I usually don’t talk about it.  People don’t like to talk about death and funerals.  But I’m fascinated by how people want to be remembered.  And more than that, I’m fascinated with how I’d like to be remembered.

The Top Five Non-Hymnal Songs at British Funerals were deemed to be: (5) “Over the Rainbow” by Eva Cassidy; (4) “Angels” by Robbie Williams; (3) “Time to Say Goodbye” by Sarah Brightman and Andrea Boccelli; (2) “Wind Beneath My Wings,” by Bette Midler; and (1) “My Way” by Frank Sinatra.

Now if that isn’t a boring bunch of crap, I don’t know what is.  Why don’t they just hand out Lunestas at the beginning of the service and give you a free pillow and cup of warm milk.

In the spirit of remembrance before its time, and to wake you up, I give you the true list of the Top 5 Songs to be Played at My Funeral, in reverse order:

5.  “November Rain” by Guns N’ Roses. A long time ago, Ms. MEPS and I agreed that whomever survived the other one would ensure that “November Rain” by Guns N’ Roses was played at the funeral and that the other would walk out of the church doors to do a guitar solo like Slash does in the video.  I’d also like a tipped over wedding cake added to that promise.  Could you imagine if I died in November and it was raining?  That would be perfect.

4.  “Where The Streets Have No Name,” by U2. Though Bono was writing about Africa, I’m sure the streets in Heaven (or Hell or Purgatory…wherever I end up) have no name as well.  So it’s just practical, really.  But it’s also an amazingly emotional song that reminds you that you’re alive.  Of course, I’ll be dead.  But that’s just a small price to pay.

3.  “Lose Yourself,” Eminem. Have you ever heard a more energizing song?  There was a tie between this and “Final Countdown” by Europe, but since my brother will have that covered, I’ll take Slim Shady.  This song would not only speak to the importance of taking chances and moving out of trailer parks, but also cause people to sway side to side and rap.  That would be priceless.

2.  “Another One Bites The Dust,” by Queen. Specifically I want this played from the hearse, blaring through the windows, to the passersby on the way to the cemetery.  I want people to be instantly appalled and then amused by this choice.  I want Freddie Mercury’s voice on blast, through residential and commercial areas alike.  And if the procession isn’t long enough to endure the song, I want an extra long procession.  This will speak to my immense sense of humor and my ability to make people uncomfortable.

1. “Keep Me In Your Heart,” Warren Zevon. A song written by a dying man has a certain quality to it that is the best way to sum up life and remembrance and mourning.  Sure I want people to remember me, but just keep me in your heart for awhile.  Go on about your life and stuff.  Don’t stop paying your bills.  Don’t stop having fun.  Just think “Hey, that trick Kim would have liked this,” and move on. This would be played at the very end, from a boom box preferably, at the gave site.

See…wouldn’t my funeral be interesting?  I’d rock you hard, move you to rap, and then kill you with a sweet and sentimental diddy at the end.

And then I’d want you to all have a big gay dance party with hits from Madonna, Kylie Minogue, etc.  Have a vodka cranberry on me.  Dance until your feet fall off.  And fall down, drunk, many times, as I have over my many years.

That’s how to incorporate music into death, my friends.