One of the more memorable lines from Monty Python and the Holy Grail is “But he’s not dead yet.” Neither am I nor are you since you’re reading this. But I have prepared a will and made instructions for what to do with what I’ve left behind. This is by no means a morbid post.

I happened to listen to a podcast of Introducing “Play This At My Funeral”: Dinah Alobeid x Laurie Ruettimann today. How I managed to miss the first 10 episodes is a mystery, but Dinah has been doing this podcast https://creators.spotify.com/pod/profile/play-this-at-my-funeral6/  for a season. She has had some incredible guests who have shared stories of the songs that shape our lives — and the ones we’d play at our funerals.

Here are a few songs I’d like to be played at my funeral, and why…

Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding (Elton John)

The “Funeral for a Friend” part of the song is instrumental, so there goes the obvious. I used to play this song at keg parties because of its dynamics. It starts out quiet, almost morose, and then builds in intensity. Then it goes quiet again as synthesizers and piano take control, only to build out to a roar. You wind up shouting over it.

The Whole of the Moon (Waterboys)

This song encapsulates a positive attitude. The “you” character in the song may only see a crescent or a small part of something, but I saw the whole of the moon. A study in contrast. I like to think that I can see the positive in almost any situation.

Don’t Forget to Dance (Kinks)

Another mid-80s gem. Ray Davies has written some of the most incredible songs of the rock era, and this is my favorite of his compositions. You may think you’re done, but you’re just getting started. Sir Ray (he was knighted for his contributions to British culture) tossed it off as pompous love ballad, but in my opinion it is a sweet elegy. And who wouldn’t object to being the object of attention?

Friday I’m in Love (Cure)

Simply a beautiful little melody and it’s a ton of fun to crank up on guitar. I don’t care if Monday is blue. The song just makes me smile and lifts my spirits. Thank you, Robert Smith!

What a Wonderful World (Louis Armstrong)

An incredible trumpet player takes to the vocal mic. Even though he only explores two of the five senses, the listener feels fulfilled. The song was written specifically for Louis Armstrong in 1967 as solace for a nation still grieving over the murder of JFK and the escalating war in Viet Nam. Songwriter George Weiss said he was inspired by Armstrong’s ability to bring together people of different races. What a wonderful world, indeed.

Scenes From an Italian Restaurant (Billy Joel)

Give a fellow Long Island boy some props! This song is a short story about the New York experience, told through the lives of Brenda and Eddie. Fun Fact – I once worked at a company where I was back-and-forth reporting to a Brenda and then an Ed. Then Brenda, and back to Ed. This song was my earworm for almost seven years. The sax solo is one of the best ever, and the piano solo sets up a perfect singalong chorus. And I’m pretty sure the Parkway Diner is not one particular place, rather it’s a composite of some amazing Long Island eateries.

Angel in Blue (J Geils Band)

This deep cut from “Freeze Frame” portends something that happened to me at a young age that still leaves a mark. Like the character in the song, I met a girl in a bar on Chesapeake Bay (she was a stripper in Virginia Beach, and about 12 years older than me; although we dated for a while she never saw us as exclusive) who broke my heart. Perhaps I thought I could love her, but her response was don’t even bother to try. Ouch.

If We Never Meet Again (Roger McGuinn)

Maybe this is a bit of a cliché for a funeral, but the key takeaway for me is standing up for yourself. I wrote a blog post about a line from this song back in March 2024. The line “You can be what they’ve made you into, or you can make your own luck” has stuck with me for decades. To me it means pick yourself off the floor, find what works for you, and make your own luck with it. Add in the beautiful Rickenbacker chime of Roger McGuinn – the only rock star to personally answer an email from me – and you have an unforgettable, transformative musical experience. He may not have written the song, but he gave it new life.

Molly Malone (Irish standard, most famously done by the Irish Rovers)

Story songs belong to most every culture, and we Irish have a ton of them. It was tough to pick just one. I could have gone with the truly tear-inducing “The Wind That Shakes the Corn” where the new girlfriend is killed by a sniper’s bullet, or “Finnegan’s Wake” in which a drunken brawl breaks out mid-funeral, or this well-known song. My Irish penchant for melancholy kicks in full blast whenever I hear it. The narrator is infatuated with a ghost. She probably didn’t have much of a life, pedaling fish on a street corner, dragging around an ancient wheelbarrow, and died young of some horrible disease. What is it that attracts him to her? Probably the same reason I pined for a tabletop dancer all those many years ago.  

OK, now it’s your turn. What would you want people to hear at your funeral?