Nothing Lasts for Long
My younger sister introduced me to The Samples, a band out of Boulder, Colorado that found a small, devoted college radio following in the late ’80s and early ’90s. I was immediately drawn to their infectious sound and the distinctive lead vocals of Sean Kelly. I played “When It’s Raining” and “Did You Ever Look So Nice” frequently on repeat, but there was another song that was critical to The Last Mixtape.
In chapter two, James breaks down hearing the Samples’ “Nothing Lasts for Long,” a melancholy song about loss and memory. The song isn’t the kind that blows you away the first time you hear it. It’s quiet, steady, and kind of sneaks up on you. The words are simple—“the sun is down and the wind is calm / as it gently fades away”—and that’s exactly why they land so hard. The song meanders through the narrator’s memories and shimmering guitar, taking the listener along for the wistful ride.
In the novel, James hears the song in his apartment, leading to an emotional moment of grief. In real life, that breakdown took place in my car. It was shortly after my sister committed suicide, and I was driving around at night, just to get some space from the heaviness of mourning and possibly gain a little perspective.
The song came on my car stereo and I lost it. All of a sudden, it wasn’t just a track on the album No Room—it was my sister speaking to me posthumously. I know it’s not rational, but it was as if she planned for me to hear this song at this time, and the words resonated with more truth than I could possibly handle:
“Maybe nothing lasts forever, not the mountain or the sea.
But the times we had together, they will always be with me.”
I bawled my eyes out and drove through the darkness. I couldn’t believe how every single word of that song applied to what I was going through, particularly the lyric: “Is it wrong to not hold on / if nothing ever lasts?” In that moment, the words and music were her voice, reaching across an impossible divide, trying to explain what she couldn’t while she was alive. It was her suicide note to me.
Today, I can hear “Nothing Lasts for Long” without tears. It evokes a combination of bittersweet memories of the time of her death as well as our shared musical interests. The fact that it’s the last song on the last mixtape my sister curated for me still gives me chills. It’s an incredibly powerful song in my life and an absolutely critical inclusion in The Last Mixtape.
