It was during the summer of 2000 when ‘How We Used to Live’ by Saint Etienne came pouring out of the speakers of my stereo in the Boston condo, and I was packing for a week in Provincetown. To this day, the song signifies summer days, happiness, friendship, and now a nostalgic look back at how things used to be. For the first day of summer, I usually like to look forward and see what new song might inspire the season – this year we’ve been through so much already that revisiting a sound of comfort seems best.
A rose scented June
A rose he pulled in June
They’re full upon the lawn
The doctor came at dawn
An old daily care
And Suzie Banana Stand
Through frosted windowpane
Your father’s middle name
From a train
And everywhere the snow falls
Sail away, sail away, sail away, sail away
‘How We Used to Live’ is a nine-minute rollercoaster of summer calm and excitement, from a magnificently languid beginning to a little lite dance party that begins to build and kick in at about the halfway mark. Summer ebbs and flows in similar fashion, never entirely one thing or another, constantly changing and winking and evolving. This year it feels especially variable, with hints and shadows of projects possibly to come, and the upcoming 20th anniversary of this website, for which preparations must be made.
A veil of faded blue
A Ruben’s old curfew
One windy winter’s day
A Windsor market day
People say
Everywhere the snow falls
Sail away, sail away, sail away, sail away
Sail away, sail away, sail away, sail away
She’s moving down the seaside
‘Cause that’s where he comes from
He gave away all of her records
Is that where she belongs?
Better think it through
Remember who
Is there something new?
Or is it you again?
Sail away, sail away, sail away
Sail away, sail away, sail away
Sail away, sail away, sail away
Sail away, sail away, sail away
Summer, oh summer, how we have waited for you, how much hope and faith we have put in you, and how unfair it all is, for who could ever deliver all that we have wanted and asked? Summer is cruel too, and often unintentionally brutal, but we still love it so. And when have we ever needed an escape more than now? Summer allows for that, and we shall make it happen. Whether it’s a lunch by the pool, with some sweet and fizzy mocktail, or a night in the attic loft, lulled to sleep by the hum of the air conditioner and the pitter-patter of rain upon the roof, summer carries its secret delights.
So take your red gown
And go down to the dam
To do as you please
On the streets of your town
The whistling kind
Shake it out of your mind
It could be the day
When you finally say
Sail away, sail away
Sail away, sail away, sail away
Sail away, on and on, on and on
On and on, on and on, on and on, on and on
Such secrets go back over two decades, when this song formed the soundtrack to that friend-filled trip to Provincetown. Kristen and I took the ferry from Boston to Provincetown, beginning a week’s vacation in that magical place at the end of the world. While I don’t revisit the past as a rule, I often go back to this trip. We were in our early twenties, the world unfurled before us filled with all the hope and possibility that youth and luck and privilege affords, and we didn’t even know or exert our power. Summer left us happily in flux, not quite entering our career years, though the more ambitious among us had their eyes on a plan (that most certainly did not include me, who was back in Boston after an ill-fated move to Chicago, and just finding my footing again). This little excursion was a break I needed, to simply have fun, maybe enjoy a summer fling, and return to the city satiated and ready to get serious about something. It was a summer to let go, and we did.
Up the riverbank and under the viaduct
Causeway full of nice cars
The sand a distant dream
Across the riverbank
Cross the riverbank, don’t look back
I sail, you sail
(And on and on)
(To sail away)
I sail, you sail
(And on and on)
(To sail away)
Those carefree days come back to me in pieces now – snippets of a sun-drenched brunch, sipping a cocktail before the choreographed precision of afternoon tea, and lazily laughing with friends on the porch of an inn as the clocks struck midnight and we debated rallying for pizza or heading back to crash. We had no way of knowing that the memories we were making then would prove, for me at least, to be some of the happiest and most carefree I would ever make. Most people don’t realize that sort of thing in their twenties. I felt hints of it, little tugs at the heart that something special was afoot, but back then my heart attributed it to the possibility of romance and love – it never dawned on me that those friendships, those in-between moments, were the real stuff of life.
And so another summer begins, as summers from the past flash across the mind. Summer in a song, summer in a glass, summer in the splash of water falling from a tip of grass as the morning dew jumps away for the day…
Do you remember how?
(And on and on)
(To sail away and on and on)
Do you remember how we used to live?
Do you remember how we used to live?
Do you remember how we used to live?
