There are a few songs that start off with a toy piano. The tiny clink will always grab my attention. As pleasant and happy as that toy is supposed to be, it has always sounded sad and alone to me. Void of any real depth a shallow tinkling.
Which makes it the perfect accompaniment to the cover of The Cures "Boys Don't Cry", by Grant Lee-Phillips. A gruff and lonely gin joint sounding version. Where Robert Smith almost mocked the the words with its upbeat smile and dance track back ground, Phillips uses the same song for an opportunity to regret.
Smith doesn't apologize he's given up and dances his way out of it. Phillips sorta takes an emo adventure to what is almost self loathing.
Both men, both versions have screwed up big time. One man is going to pick up his toys and move on on boy is going to order a double.
Neither is better than the other, simply a different spin on a common lament. I feel badly for Phillips maybe he wasn't the sympathy, I don't feel bad for Smith.
In the end both have just destroyed something they held dear with insensitivity. Both versions are trying to convince themselves that boys don't cry but only one is succeeding.
This is a beautiful song, both versions captivating for opposing reasons.