Sadly Beautiful

It’s funny. For as much as the Replacements are treated as a beloved hard rock/postpunk band, with a preference from many of their longest-termed fans for the really hard stuff, the softer tunes were a part of their DNA for pretty much all of their career. The louder songs likely outnumber the quieter ones, but the latter were still always a part of who the Mats were. Thanks to Paul Westerberg’s ability as a master craftsman when it came to writing sad, longing ballads.

“If Only You Were Lonely” showed what Paul could do as a young balladeer just beginning dip a toe into those waters way back in 1981. But since then, every album since Hootenanny has had not only some quieter and more “serious” material, but also songs that are basically one-man shows for Paul. 

Think about it—“Within Your Reach,” “Androgynous,” “Here Comes a Regular,” “Skyway,” and “Rock-n-Roll Ghost” were all largely do-it-all-Paul ventures from Hootenanny through Don’t Tell a Soul. But they were done in the full spirit of who the Replacements were. Because those songs—as well as others—are pretty important in the overall Mats songbook and legacy. 

Why? Look. We love the band for who the band was—raw, sloppy, reckless, acidic, impassioned, ragged, heartfelt, needy, drawn and brutally honest. But those harder moments I don’t think have anywhere near the meaning they have if not counterset on occasion with the quieter songs. It's only when brought together that the true ethos of the Replacements can be seen and felt.

And it just makes the Mats that much more fascinating and effective. It’s why “If Only You Were Lonely” functioned so well as a b-side to a banger like “I’m In Trouble.” It’s why “Androgynous” flows so seamlessly after a goof-rocker like “Tommy Gets His Tonsils,” and why “Here Comes a Regular” is not just a perfect capper to Tim, but provides such a devastating contrast to the battery acid fury of “Little Mascara.” People can say plenty about the band’s fears, insecurities and self-destructive hubris. But you had to give it to them—they by and large knew how to lay out an album. And they knew the need to give both sides of the coin, the sour and the sweet, to these records.

And, of course,  they knew the value Paul brought with those softer moments. So that brings us to “Sadly Beautiful,” one of the most delicate and gorgeous songs Paul (or anyone else) has ever written. 

On an album where people expected Paul to be going it alone more often than not without Tommy, Slim or Chris, this track—the album’s fifth—is the first example of that happening. No, it won’t be the last. But I have always appreciated that he waited until track five, right after the fastest song on the album (“Bent Out of Shape”) to unveil “Sadly Beautiful.” 

“Sadly Beautiful” is so sparse it almost seems avant-garde, experimental, although this is no demo. This is a complete and thoroughly realized vision of a song. Paul and guest musician/avatar John Cale fill “Sadly Beautiful” with such a haunting level of melancholy that it is hard to not feel it pull at you. Three instruments—Paul’s weary voice, his dusty, desolate acoustic guitar and Cale’s mournful viola—are all you need to let “Sadly Beautiful” envelop you the way the best Mats’ songs of years’ past used to. 

“From the very first day you were born, 

To the very last time you waved and honked your horn, 

Had no chance at all to watch you grow 

Up so sadly, beautiful. 

“Baby needs a brand new pair of eyes, 

‘Cause the ones she’s got now see only goodbyes. 

Had no chance at all to let you know, 

So sadly, beautiful. 

So sadly, beautiful. 

“Well you got your father's hair, 

And you got your father's nose, 

But you got my soul. 

Sadly, beautiful. 

“From the very last time you waved and honked your horn, 

To a face that turned away pale and worn, 

Had no chance at all to let you know 

You left me sadly, beautiful.” 

This is heavier stuff, maybe, than most Mats fans were used to. The subject is a bit nebulous as always; it could be a parent saying goodbye to a child? Possibly a mother bidding farewell to a child going to live with his or her father? I suppose it could be a love song—perhaps Paul is singing to an ex, telling her while she was born with traits only her father could give her, the author's soul is something she earned. Could be. But it’s really not that important—the song is a lonely and almost funereal goodbye, and every corner of it works. 

Listen to the way Paul speaks the word “beautiful” just before Cale’s ethereal viola solo takes over. Or the ghostly way his voice barely can offer the stunning choice of words, “pale and worn.” Or Cale’s gentle bowed response every time Paul utters the word “sadly.” This is deeply personal, intimate, and the pathos and emotion behind every note and syllable invade the room as the song plays, like a spirit billowing through the drapes. 

As Scott and I have discussed so far, All Shook Down has more than a few high points and more than a few that, frankly, just don’t quite make it. “Sadly Beautiful” is one of the former, hitting towering heights while barely rising above a whisper. 

Being able to elevate above the ash and ruin with quieter moments was an ace the Mats always had up their sleeve (again, think “Skyway” or “Sixteen Blue” or “Achin’ to Be”), and for that reason, even though “Sadly Beautiful” is one of those examples of Paul going it mostly alone, it remains a Replacements song through and through. 

We’ll hear more on All Shook Down from Paul going it mostly alone, but we won’t hear it done any better. How could we when “Sadly Beautiful” offers it up so flawlessly?