5 Tracks From 1972 That Nail The Meaning Of Life

Popular music was in a holding pattern of excellence come 1972. The counterculture of the '60s had peaked with the irreplaceable Woodstock in 1969, the ongoing Vietnam War had yet to end, different musical forms like punk and disco had yet to rise to the mainstream, and the first inklings of classic rock's eventual demise in the face of arena bands and new wave had yet to occur. This makes 1972 a good litmus test for the times, one in which artists of all stripes had enough breathing room to write some superb music that nails the meaning of life.

But before we explore that music, we've got to define what we're looking for. The "meaning of life" is broad and nebulous enough to mean practically anything depending on who you ask. So when choosing songs from 1972 that typify the meaning of life, we've got to focus on the most irrefutably universal human themes possible: love, beauty, aging, hardship, death, etc. Also, our choices are not the only songs from 1972 that nail the meaning of life, nor is their subject matter the only subject matter that applies to this article. The reader can consider these as five good examples and leave it at that.

Those examples include a song that perfectly captures the desire for connection that spans generations, young and old: "Old Man" by Neil Young. We've also got a song about loved ones reuniting in death inspired by food and a dead dog, "Mother and Child Reunion" by Paul Simon. "Let's Stay Together" by Al Green, meanwhile, perfectly expresses the feeling of being in love. Songs from poet extraordinaire, Joni Mitchell, and English progsters Yes balance out the gamut of human experience.  

Nothing about "Mother and Child Reunion" from Paul Simon's 1972 self-titled album is what you'd expect. As the follow-up to Simon & Garfunkel's final, lauded studio album, "Bridge Over Troubled Water," Simon delivered an opening track that skews reggae, is gospel-tinged, and was partly-inspired the name of a Chinese dish. And as a song about the cycle of life and death, it approaches its universally human subject matter in a strangely light, but not unwelcome, way.

It all starts with Simon's delicate lyrics that describe the death of a child: "Oh, little darling of mine / I can't for the life of me / Remember a sadder day / I know they say let it be / But it just don't work out that way." The song goes on to express a mournful hope, much like how the music sounds, for a reunion one day (which could only happen in the afterlife). In and of itself, this could be enough for "Mother and Child Reunion" to make our list of songs that nail the meaning of life. But then, we've got the song's origins.

In a 1972 Rolling Stone interview with Simon, he reveals how much the untimely death of his dog affected him and left him wondering how he'd feel if his wife, Peggy, had gotten hit by a car instead. This experience of grief and confusion planted the seed for his future song, which grew with a dish at a Chinese restaurant named "Mother and Child Reunion" — a chicken and egg dish. From there, music from Jamaica just fit the song's feeling. This kind of organic creative process is just as human as "Mother and Child Reunion's" meaning.  

No, we're not just choosing Al Green's "Let's Stay Together" from 1972's album of the same name because it's a supremely moving, well-written, timeless song perfect for a romantic Valentine's Day or any other time (although that helps). We're choosing it because it's the best representation of what one of the most meaningful and profound life events feels like: being in love and wanting to, as the title says, stay with one's beloved. It really is as simple as that. 

As a song, "Let's Stay Together" is a testament to the power of nuts-and-bolts songwriting and a magnetic, central voice (Green, in this case). By themselves, some of the song's lyrics could come across as boilerplate: "Lovin' you whether / Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad" (even though those lyrics echo wedding vows). But in the hands of Green and his songwriting team, which included drummer Al Jackson and producer Willie Mitchell, "Let's Stay Together" gets elevated through nuance. 

The song is musically subtle and gentle, just like Green's delivery, full of emotional depth that matches the care put into its composition, and is sexy, but not in a lurid, exploitative way. In this way, "Let's Stay Together" mirrors the truth of its subject matter: While "love" itself as a universal human experience, each love is different in inflection. Each one comes down to the smallest, moment-to-moment details, like accents on notes.

Judging by the chart history of "Let's Stay Together," folks have always felt that Green's song was something special, even if they haven't examined its nitty-gritties. The song deservedly reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and has become legendary over time.

Those who know Joni Mitchells' "Cold Blue Steel and Sweet Fire" from 1972's "For the Roses" might be surprised to see it on this list. After all, not all of us have a loved one addicted to heroin, as Mitchell did James Taylor. But we do all have self-destructive habits, even if they're minor in comparison. And we do all know whose habits have gotten the better of them. In this way, we're taking "Cold Blue Steel and Sweet Fire" as a stand-in for the types of self-wrought difficulties we all struggle with, especially ones related to dependency. Whether this is dependency on addictive substances, unhealthy people and relationship drama, the grind and work hustle culture, or whatever — "Cold Blue Steel and Sweet Fire" fits.

Listening only to the music of "Cold Blue Steel and Sweet Fire," you'd never realize the song is about self-destructive habits. Until you read its absolutely exquisite lyrics, that is. But when you take the song's acoustic plucking and undulating, supporting alto sax line as indicative of the allure of self-destructive habits, even headiness in the moment, then the music makes sense. 

And speaking of those lyrics, Mitchell's unbelievably well-written poetry is on full display here, speaking to songwriting potential rarely seen not just in 1972, but any year: "Pawnshops crisscrossed and padlocked / Corridors, spit-on prayers and pleas / Sparks fly up from Sweet Fire / Black soot of Lady Release." In this way, we could even take the song itself as indicative of the kind of cultural artifact left behind in the wake of a beautifully expressed exploration of meaning amidst crisis.

When a track's full name is "And You and I: i. Cord of Life, ii. Eclipse, iii. The Preacher, The Teacher, iv. Apocalypse," you know you're in for something. Back when English OG prog rock band Yes released 1972's "Close to the Edge," they wanted to follow up 1971's masterful "Fragile" (featuring the stupendous "Roundabout," which sounds even cooler today than it did then) with something even more ambitious and awe-inspiring. Taking inspiration from Finnish composer Sibelius, they wrote the long-form, multi-movement "Closer to the Edge" followed by "And You and I." It's in the latter piece that we find "The Preacher, The Teacher," written by Yes guitarist Steve Howe deconstructing all delusions of political and religious power.

Musically, "The Preacher, the Teacher" is a kind of dreamy, country-infused symphonic segment within "And You and I." Its wonderfully written lyrics talk about giving the power that we grant to gods and masters back to humanity, starting with, "Sad preacher nailed upon the coloured door of time / Insane teacher be there reminded of the rhyme," and ending with, "Emotion revealed as the ocean maid / A clearer future, morning, evening, nights with you." 

This all might sound a bit abstract, but considering that all people, everywhere, wrestle with the dominance of the powers that be in some way, whether big or small, "The Preacher, the Teacher" 100% nails one of the most pervasive aspects of human life. And, it does so in a beautifully stated, evocative way that mirrors one method of approaching such problems. 

Neil Young didn't realize what he'd wrought when we wrote 1972's "Harvest," an album that took off so mightily that it scared Young and made him flee from fame. And while "Heart of Gold" was the biggest hit from the album (one that Young grew to hate), reaching No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and having 573 million current listens on Spotify, it's "Old Man" that truly nails one critical facet of the meaning of life. 

The lyrics from "Old Man" say it all: "Old man, take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you / I need someone to love me the whole day through / Ah, one look in my eyes and you can tell that's true." There you have it. "Old Man" is a song about the ongoing desire for connection and love, same as it's a song about bridging the span of generations through shared experience. It's also a song about realizing that age, and by implication, death, awaits us all. This realization is arguably most central to humanity and underpins our entire experience of life.

Like many broadly-applicable pieces of art, "Old Man" started with a very specific, personal experience. Young got divorced and seriously injured his back in 1970, which meant he spent a lot of time holed away on his ranch, thinking and writing acoustic music. This is where "Harvest" came from. The themes of "Heart of Gold" actually bookend those of "Old Man," as the former talks about feeling tired while looking for love, and the latter is like a premonition about Young's future if he fails. This type of self-reflection is also immanently human.