Like all good missionary schooled, brown tagged boys in the 70s, Tata and I spent much time and energy teaching ourselves how to hold chords on what everyone called a "Spanish guitar." Two of the very first songs we learned to play and sing were Papa by Paul Anka and Where Do You Go To My Lovely by Peter Sarstedt. This morning, the news came through that Sarstedt had died.
The last year saw some of the greatest minds in the field of contemporary music die. Some people called 2016 the year the music died, an allusion to a great song about a great tragedy. It also saw the second time in the history of the award that a singer-songwriter got the Nobel Prize for Literature. Yet through it all, this blog remained un-updated. This morning, as I read the news, a million associations from childhood came flooding back, and now, at the end of the day, I decided to separate the wheat from the chaff and write why I will always think highly of this song and singer.