I know the words to a lot of songs. More than I can even think of. The other day Dad put on Mary Black in the car and I still knew all the words even though I hadn’t heard the songs since I was 6 years old. Music generally sticks with me.
So the song I choose is Don’t Know Why by Norah Jones. Firstly, this was the first song I ever sang in a pub-singer type context. It sits very well, the range is fairly effortless and it is a song that I am fairly confident that I won’t mess up.
Another reason is another one of Dad’s gigs, also at Clohs. Usually, I do two. So I opened with Don’t Know Why, closed with Thinking of You by Katy Perry. I usually get a better response to the Katy Perry. But not tonight. Because after I sat down, an older gentleman approached me. Neither I nor the parents knew him, but he proceeded to kiss my hand, tell me I was a wonderful singer and that he had been so touched by the first song (which had reminded him of one of his family) that he had had to step out. I thanked him for the compliment and remained amazed at the power of such a simple song for the remainder of the night..