Anna Goldsmith: The Rest of the Song

A tribute to the Isle of Man singer-songwriter, public servant and my beautiful best friend, told in her own voice, song by song

🌸 ikigai 生き甲斐 is a reason for being, your purpose in life - from the Japanese iki 生き meaning life and gai 甲斐 meaning worth 🌸

Two weeks ago, I slipped a song into my soundtrack PS, Horoscope, by my ridiculously talented friend Anna Goldsmith, my beautiful green bridesmaid fairy, and said nothing else. Last week I wrote an essay about waiting, about grief that begins before a loss does and I wrote a poem in it called Fermata.

I can now tell you what I could not tell you then. It was about her.

I am devastated to share that Anna passed away on the 25th of July. It was her birthday. It was also the day last week’s essay went out into the world with a poem for her at the heart of it. She held on, whoever holds the note decrees, long enough to be wrapped in birthday love from us who adore her, and then, on her own day and in her own time, she let the song move on.

Her family asked for quiet until they were ready, and the Isle of Man kept it, because that is what our Island does. But the news is out now, the tributes are pouring in, and I cannot write about purpose this week without telling you more about a huge sparkly facet of mine.

My Anna

I am not quite sure I know how to be me without her.

She was my friend, my gorgeous green bridesmaid fairy who sang at my wedding. She was magical music and I was waffly words, and between us there was friendship and counsel and campfires and kids playing in rivers and toasted marshmallows and coffee and carrot cake and mischief and belief and therapy and laughter and and and… some loves cannot fit into sentences. They only fit into and.

It was always her, and music and a campfire for me. Last week I wrote that the rarest pauses are a person, in a place the noise won’t follow. You can now tell you who taught me that. She was my pause in a chaotic world, always, always.

So this tribute is not going to try to convey everything, because everything does not convey. Instead I am going to do a thing she would want, which is to turn the tunes up loud. The rest of the world needs to know how talented she was. Here is Anna, in her own voice.

A tribute in tracks

Night Fever

Let’s start where she would so often, with fun. Her powerhouse reimagining of the Bee Gees, filmed by DAM Productions and this higher quality version of the vid just uploaded by Christy… and yes, that is me you can spot in the video, because being near Anna meant being pulled into the absolute joy of life, we laughed so much making this.

Older Than My Years

The opening track of her album Let It Rain, her gorgeous classically trained voice soaring over the words she wrote… and yeah love that she was singing about trying to use her head and not her heart even if we both struggled at times with that *grin* … she was wise and so very kind and caring.

Horoscope

My favourite of hers had to be shared again, my comment right there under the video, seventeen years old. It is the song I chose for my soundtrack two weeks ago when I could not say why. A favourite line about how hard it can be to say exactly what is on your mind… and on her last birthday, I spoke that line back to her, it had never ever been truer.

You Slayed All My Monsters

Her gorgeous version of a fellow Manx songwriter’s song, filmed at her album launch in Peel. I was in that crowd, absolutely transfixed by her as ever.

With Davy Knowles at the Garden Party

… and then there were the festival years. This is Davy in 2011, with Anna at the centre of a trio of gorgeous backing singers, and it captures something I struggle to explain to anyone who wasn’t there… what a time that was to be a music and camping fan on the Isle of Man. The Garden Party, Mannifest, the smaller, more personal gatherings like our Beltane weekends. Actual astronauts on our island and everywhere this shared love and pride and excitement… for the Island, for the music, for the magic and the safety of it all. I was in that crowd that night too, absolute perfection.

Be Here Tomorrow

Written for a short film, Love Like Hers by Danny Lacey, and I love everything about it heaps. Of course the words are poignant now in ways I never envisaged, but what a gift to hear her singing I Love You *Love and strength to all her family and friends*

Angel

Her cover, and oh my goodness, the voice. The range of her, the control, the ache she could put into a single held note. It was always poignant, now it is something so much bigger than that. If you only press play on one of these to understand what we have lost, maybe it should be this one.

A Revolution of Hope

The singing never stopped. In recent times Anna poured energy into the mighty Post War Stories, and their album A Revolution of Hope carries her incredible voice and it was fab to see them perform as a band at Noa including my other very talented and gorgeous friend Laura (the beautiful blue bridesmaid fairy). Anna’s song Stole The Show, has recently been reworked by the band, and I understand will feature in Christy’s Manx Radio tribute later on today between 5pm and 7pm. Her energy and passion, the band said this week, was unmatched. It really, really was.

Her own album Let It Rain is there to be discovered by so many more people, all eleven songs of amazing her… It has been pretty much on repeat for me over these last few weeks I’m not gonna lie. I love that her voice is out in the world being loved forever more, what a glorious legacy.

Name that tube

And then there was our game, Name That Tube… it went like this, tear up strips of paper and deal them out equally, everyone writes down a song, and the rest of the table has to guess who chose it… preferably with a designated DJ driving the YouTube playlist, so nobody has to disguise their handwriting. It was always played so seriously to start with. My elaborate opening strategy of thinking what would Critch or Laura or Anna themselves choose if they were trying to throw us off the scent, would as I got increasingly drunky, collapse into simply playing my own actual favourites, on the flawless logic that this would throw everyone off. It was exceedingly transparent grin. I do not remember winning very often at all.

Winning was never the point (much ahem hehe), more an excuse to sit around a table with your favourite people, chat shit and share choons… and it was the cause of much hilarity over the years, if I close my eyes I can still feel the absolute joy of that.

Please play it, gather your besties, tear up the paper and press play… loving therapy and homework from her.

The Island she loved and nurtured

Away from the stage, Anna spent more than twenty years as a public servant, and she did SO much with a huge amount of talent and love and care. Footpaths, she was the officer who looked after the island’s paths for ages. Benches placed under dark skies, so people could sit in the quiet and look up at the light. Warm spaces in cold months. A garden at St John’s, Garey Yn Ellan Ain. A Year of Our Island. A homelessness strategy delivered so nobody on the Isle of Man needs to sleep rough because of work she led.

Above all else though she was the best Mum to gorgeous Robbie who she could not be prouder of, and partner to James who made her so very happy… and I can’t imagine the pain of her lovely parents Angela and Brian, her sisters Natalie, Lisa and Hayley… or those of us in her huge long list of extended family and friends… she exuded love and joy, and was certainly loved in return, heaps and heaps.

Last week I wrote about ma, 間, the Japanese idea that the space between things is not empty but load-bearing, the pause that is structure, the light through the gap in a door. I did not know how to tell you then that my friend had spent her life creating places for an entire island to pause, to rest, to be warm, to look at the light.

She made ma for all of us.

Fermata, kept

I wrote her this poem exactly one week ago while she was still this side of the threshold, when I wasn’t able to really talk about that, and I thought that once I could write openly I would want to write something new. I was wrong because reading it back now, it feels more perfect to me that it was written in the flux, while the holding was still happening… a poem she was alive inside.

She held the note until she couldn’t any more,

We keep the beat

We had plans, Anna and I. Proper, brilliant, purposeful plans.

Anna had long since walked away from Facebook, she hated it, and hadn’t been much of a LinkedIn person either, which is exactly what makes her last post there, nine months ago, so precious to me now. It reads: “Talking creativity, AI and opportunity with 2 incredible women has completely lifted my mood today 🔥”. The two women she was talking about were me and an inspiring soul named Carol.

We had been plotting and she was working her way up to posting more I know it. Anna was an enthusiastic embracer of AI and I had been nudging her towards the 1000 true fans idea, the notion that an artist does not need the whole world, only a community of people who love the work and will support it… with an eye on turning her sheer brilliance into the proper income stream it always deserved to be… and from there the dream grew legs and walls, a real-life community space one day, coffee shop and workshop and bookshop and coaching, a supportive, creative, good for your head and heart kind of place. Her and music and campfire energy.

It was clearly not meant to be, but I’ll treasure her words about creativity, opportunity and a lifted mood, about the future we were building together and I will be giving serious thought to how best to honour it from my side.

My poem for her says that if the page stops counting,the ones who love you keep the beat… in her music shared, her paths walked, her benches sat upon under dark skies and in every good thing done in her name. That is the rest of the song, and it is ours now to sing.

Rest now, my beautiful friend. You are held and counted, for evermore.

We love you forever and ever.

Sarah, seeking ikigai xxx

PS No bullet journal spread this week. Instead a table, strips of paper, a pen each, and your best people. Play Name That Tube and then tell me in the comments which song you would choose and why.

PPS No AI prompt this week either. Light a campfire, or simply a candle and put the kettle on and stay for one more cup with someone you love.

PPPS This week’s soundtrack is all of the above, please turn it up, she always always did xx