Songs for Raymond

The vigil last night for Raymond Taavel was an extraordinary event. I had the opportunity to write about it for Xtra, but I felt there was one element that I wanted to bring to the table that I was unable to in the original story.

Music.

The event started with an impromptu crowd version of “Amazing Grace” and was punctuated by performances by local musicians and performers. One of the songs was “Down to the River to Pray,” a song known to many due to the rousing version by Alison Krauss on the Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack. You can listen to the version peformed at last night’s vigil here.

This song has been stuck in my head all day. I’ve been singing it to keep my spirits up.

*

The night of the incident, Taavel and his drinking companions had been listening to the jukebox in the bar. Someone made note of the songs that were played that night.

In honour of that list, I’d like to post a couple videos from it.

Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill.”


Cheryl Lynn’s “Got To Be Real.”

(This song was mentioned at the vigil by Councillor Dawn Sloane, who said Taavel taught her how to dance to it.)

Keep on dancin’, Raymond.

Journalist, writer, blogger, producer.

Keep Reading

How ‘North of North’ is introducing Indigenous queer dramedy to a global stage

Actors Anna Lambe and Zorga Qaunaq on learning about forgiveness and queerness through their award-winning show
Barbara Hammer

Barbara Hammer’s endless influence

The lesbian filmmaker made a radical difference by making work that reflected her real life. A new documentary is cementing her legacy
Collage with two hands holding a bat, swinging towards a baseball with a dollar sign on it, against a blue background with a net, baseball player and the Olivia logo on an outfield sign

Why the WPBL partnering with a lesbian travel company matters

Support from lesbian brands and bars harks back to the queer history of women’s sport leagues
Confluence cover

‘Confluence’ brings Vancouver’s queer history to life

The late Alex Turner and his husband, Lucian Childs, have written a unique and rewarding ode to mid-century gay British Columbia
Advertisement