“Everyday,” Buddy Holly
This week marks the anniversary of The Day the Music Died. On 03 February 1959, the plane carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper crashed into the cold Iowa night. With this one twist of fate, half a generation’s musical promise was lost, and it seems futile to fathom what might’ve been, and even more difficult, still, to assess the extent to which we’ve suffered because these talents were barred from continuing to advance. However, we are fortunate to have the recordings these greats left behind.
In so many ways, Holly defies categorization. We know he belongs somewhere under the rock umbrella, but his experimental nature makes him hard to pin down. His songs are humble and often lyrically simple. But, that sound! It changes you. Tracks like “Rave On” and “Peggy Sue” continue to shape our expectations of what the best rock and roll can achieve.
It is stunning how much impact “Everyday” achieves with such simple devices. Everything is pared down: the lyrics are of a plaintive love ballad, and Holly’s singular vocal line is primarily accompanied by subdued hand slaps and a tinkling celesta. This doesn’t really sound like a rock and roll song, but it doesn’t really sound like anything else, either. The overall effect is almost like a music box playing, quiet and sweet—slow, but sure. It’s remarkable how with a minimum of sound, it doesn’t feel like something is lacking.
“Everyday” was released as the B-side to 1957’s “Peggy Sue,” but it possesses a sound that is timeless. This stripped down recording feels like it could have just as easily been recorded today as sixty years ago. Holly sings about a tender love to last, and the barn-burner fireworks of many of his other tunes would have been an overstatement of such a gentle sentiment. The track stands the test of time because it doesn’t feel as though it belongs to a time. Even Holly’s signature glottal flourishes don’t date this song, because the best music just does not fade away.