Pink Moon
A few years ago, I noticed that people started to talk about Nick Drake. I had never heard of him. I thought he was a new artist. It was odd, because his name began popping up here and there. I went to All Music guide and read this. From the AMG entry:
“He managed to produce one final full-length work, “Pink Moon.†(1972), a desolate solo acoustic album that ranks as one of the most naked and bleak statements in all of rock. He did record a few more songs before his death…”
I was intrigued, and I made a note to myself to try and find the record.
A few days later, my sister-in-law stopped by the house and told us, “You guys have to hear this CD,†and gave us a copy of Pink Moon. Odd again. I put the CD aside and figured I would get to it soon.
My job keeps me on the road, often from Sunday throught Friday. I told my wife this one Sunday afternoon that I wanted to rest before I hit the road, and went up to the bedroom. I slipped Pink Moon into the CD player, turned out the lights and hit play on the remote.
I was not expecting it. The title track leads off the album. It starts with this solo acoustic guitar that is haunting from the first strum. And then this sad, expressive, resigned voice filled the room.
“I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink Moon is on its way
None of you stand so tall
Pink Moon gonna get you all
And it’s a Pink Moon,
Yeah it’s a Pink Moon
Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink
Pink Moonâ€Â
Then, this very sparse piano part that has its roots in the melody played on top of the one acoustic guitar.
Devastating.
After that, he just sings the first verse again.
“I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink Moon is on its way
None of you stand so tall
Pink Moon gonna get you all
And it’s a Pink Moon,
Yeah it’s a Pink Moon
Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink Moonâ€Â
And then it was over.
2:02.
Over.
I ran downstairs and fetched wife. “You have to hear this song. Now.â€Â
We sat down and listened together.
Jeez.
The album clocks in at about 28 minutes, and it is an aural representation of real, honest, depression. Not Sting bragging about being The King of Pain. Not the blues. Not John Lennon. It is a quiet acceptance, a resignation. He seems to be saying, “Pain is part of my life, and I accept it. It is just the way things are. “
From track 3: “Roadâ€Â
“You can say the sun is shining if you really want to
I can see the moon and it seems so clear
You can take the road that takes you to the stars now
I can take a road that’ll see me through
I can take a road that’ll see me through.
You can take a road that takes you to the stars now
I can take a road that’ll see me through
I can take a road that’ll see me through
I can take a road that’ll see me through.â€Â
It was my wife’s turn this time. When I went on the road that week, she took the CD and listened to it. When I got back she said, “Listen to this one again. It may be the saddest song that I’ve ever heard.†(Quoting the lyric.)
‘You can take the road that takes you to the stars now
I can take the road that’ll see me through.’ â€Â
“How SAD is that?†she said. “He has given up on any dream. He just wants to get through the day.â€Â
The record is eerie. You feel like he is in the room. You feel like you know him. You feel like you can see a hint of a smile on his face as he sings, almost whispers to you the depth of his experience in a world that is just so painful, just so dark and so dreary. Not asking for your pity or your remedy. Just informing you. The smile is not ironic. It is an indication that he has found some respite, some peace inside these songs.
One can imagine how I must have felt when I found out that the title track was featured in a Volkswagen commercial. I hate it that my songs, my songs, the soundtrack of my life are used to sell things. I remember back in the 80’s, there was a furniture store that took Beethoven’s 5th and touted their $999 sale.
Nine ninety NINE!
Nine ninety NINE!
Oh the rage and rancor that swelled inside my 20 something idealist consciousness! I’d be driving along, and I would hear the theme, and I would picture Alex with his eyelids held open by the alligator clips crying, Not the lovely lovely Ludwig Van!
NINE NINETY NINE!
NINE NINETY NINE!
Anyway.
I never saw the Volkswagen commercial aired, except on a VH1 show about Nick Drake. One of life’s many contradictions is that my mind has not changed one degree away from the fact that corporations should not use art to sell their stuff, but the fact is, the Volkswagen commercial was directly responsible for the resurgence of interest in Nick Drake, and who knows when I would have heard this beautiful record had they not besmirched its artistic value?
None of you stand so tall.
Man, I love that line.
[Edit from a post I did at my place back in '05.]




Pink Moon is one of the greatest albums I know.
It took me years, and a serious bout of depression, to warm up to Nick Drake, and his first two albums are in places too arch, too stuck in their time (Cambridge mid-1960s). But Pink Moon is dazzlingly simple.
It’s not hard to write simple, but it’s extremely hard to write deep AND true AND original AND simple. And that’s Drake at his best.
Plus he was a phenomenal fingerstyle guitarist w/ crazy ass tunings (I think Road is played with 5 of the 6 strings tuned to D).
Yeah his rep grew over the years on a Sylvia Plath romance of the dead depressive mythos, but that’s a damn shame; although he died young and left behind very little music what he did leave is good enough to stand on its own without the added romance.
Check, if you haven’t, Black Dog, with it’s carnatic sounding guitar part, from the posthumous anthology Way to Blue and Time has Told Me, which kicks off Drake’s first album and features a young Richard Thompson on guitar (at the time Richard wasn’t 1/4 the guitarist that Drake was).
Road is great, probably my favorite Nick Drake song (tho’ Which Will is also immaculate). But Road is not even the saddest song on the record. What about Parasite?