The Life of Riley

Happy New Year!

What's the first song you listened to in 2026? Perhaps it was "Aul Lang Syne", if you were at a New Year's Eve party. Or even watching a countdown show on TV.

I suppose it's possible you haven't listened to your first song of the year yet-- which might make you mull it over.

Firsts and lasts always seem significant to me, so I made sure to listen to a few optimistic songs at the beginning of the year.

The very first was "Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac, which isn't exactly one of my favourite songs, but which I like well enough. It's hard to think of a more upbeat, optimistic song, so that's the first that came to mind.

My second choice was "The Life of Riley" by the Lightning Seeds, which is one of my favourite songs of all time. Listening to the lyrics, and appreciating it anew, I decided to make it the subject of my first blog post in 2026.

"The Life of Riley" became well-known for its use on BBC's Match of the Day TV programme, back in the nineties. A looped sample of it was the backing music for the "Goal of the Month" segment of the show. "Goal of the Month" showed footage of great goals, and viewers got to vote for the best. So the music was already associated with dizzy heights (which is the name of a Lightning Seeds album) and euphoria-- because what else can you feel but euphoria, when you see a goal like this one?

The actual subject of the song is a father's hopes for his child. The songwriter Ian Broudie wrote it for his newborn son Riley.

Poems and songs that parents write for their newborn children can run the whole gamut of emotions (see, for instance, "A Prayer for my Daughter" by W.B. Yeats, or "Born Yesterday" by Philip Larkin-- though that one isn't written by a parent). "Life of Riley" is entirely hopeful, even (as I suggested earlier) euphoric. And why shouldn't it be? We have more than enough laments.

The lyrics aren't exactly literary, and they're not exactly polished. But they do the trick, and they have some sublime moments. They begin like this:

Lost in the Milky Way
Smile at the empty sky and wait for
The moment, a million chances may all collide
I'll be the guiding light
Swim to me through stars that shine down
And call to the sleeping world as they fall to Earth.

None of that makes a whole lot of sense. Why are the stars falling to earth? But I've never thought about that until this very moment. The impression they create is what matters.

I do think there's one great line in that opening verse, though. It's this one: "The moment a million chances may all collide". The internal sounds are very pleasing and harmonious, and it captures (for me) the sense of every moment's uniqueness.

The refrain is also excellent, in my view:

I don't mind, I've got the feeling

You'll be fine, I still believe that

In this world we've got to find the time

For the life of Riley.

"They are to be happy in", as Philip Larkin wrote, with bewitching naivety (about days). Or, as G.K. Chesterton put it, "The inn does not point to the road; the road points to the inn."

My favourite line in the song, though, comes in the bridge: "Al this world is a crazy ride, so take your seats and hold on tight". The bridge itself evokes a sense of plummeting, like a long slide at a fairground. 

Personally, I love music lyrics which portray the hurly-burly of life in a positive way, like a romp or an adventure-- which is the best way of looking at them. (Another of these, although the metaphor isn't explicit in the song, comes from "The Cowboy Song" by Thin Lizzy:

Roll me over and turn me around

Let me keep spinning till I hit the ground

Roll me over and let me go

Riding in the rodeo.

I even love it when somebody says something like: "Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy one...")

The song makes me nostalgic. Nostalgia, for me, is always a rather fragile and bittersweet thing, since I wasn't a happy child or teenager. Nostalgia is linked to fragile, fleeting moments of optimism-- a glimpse of how things could have been.

The early nineties were a time of optimism in Ireland in my experience. But, aside from that, this song has happy associations for me. Myself, my brother, and my father used to watch Match of the Day every week, so it was something that brought us together.

Even more specifically, though, this song is attached to a particular memory. Myself and my brothers were shopping for Christmas gifts in Dublin city centre. We used to save our pennies and actually have meetings about what to buy for different people.

I remember it as a very crisp Winter's day-- and winter weather always seems more invigorating and, somehow, granulated to me. Having more potential, in fact, for, "the moment a million chances may all collide". The city centre was full of shoppers and bustle and anticipation, and I have one memory of scented soap-- whether we bought it, or thought about buying it, or simply passed it in some shop.

I also remember-- and this is one of my favourite memories of all time-- a window display in Brown Thomas, the Harrod's of Dublin. It was a large model of a ship in a glass case of liquid, but the glass case was slowly and continuously sway from back to front, which made the liquid and the ship move. And the liquid was the richest, most shimmering blue-green I've ever seen.

As for the song, I remember hearing it in a music shop we went into. Music shops always have the best speakers, so it sounded amazing-- as crisp as the air that day, as sensuous as the scented soap, as richly-coloured as the liquid the ship was passing through. So the song carries all those associations, for me-- but I think it's pretty good even without them.