This isn't meant to be just a playlist listing play-ce. BUT! John Cale's Paris 1919, in particular "Paris 1919," is jam of all centuries times two two two is six! I think I had this song on my computer way long ago but didn't remember it for a long time, until the night I hung out with friends (mine or my boyfriend's? both!) and joint-ash landed onto my right arm, on the inside by my (elbow) joint. A Welshman came to save me with his voice and string section. There is still a small burnt spot with a tiny oval of re-growing skin, but then there is also still this song. Then the Tragically Hip say, "And Wales, too."

I don't know why I like Wales so much without having been there or having much contact with it at all, outside of Mwng, my history of the English language class, and the rumor coursing throughout my father's side that a former poet laureate of Wales is in the family, and there's a statue dedicated to him in a small Welsh village. (In researching this on Wikipedia, it turns out there WASN'T EVEN a poet laureate for Wales until fairly recently. But I am sticking the rumor out, and sticking it to Wikipedia.) It very possibly could be the whole marginalized "almost-..." nature of its existence, much like Canada is to America. The appeal also could be in all the W's everywhere in the language.

The point is, at the end of the Welsh road, there stand John Cale, Tom Jones, and some negligible percentage of me. A finger, maybe, or even my lower right arm.