And So It Goes: Nick Lowe and the Art of the Accidental Masterpiece

And So It Goes: Nick Lowe and the Art of the Accidental Masterpiece

Nick Lowe is the kind of guy who makes genius look like a hobby. You probably know him for "Cruel to be Kind" or for writing the anthem "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding," but if you really want to get to the heart of the man they call The Basher, you have to look at And So It Goes. It’s not just a song. It’s a mood. It's that specific feeling of watching the world spin out of control and just... nodding.

Released back in 1978 as the B-side to "American Squirm," and later appearing on the quintessential album Labour of Lust, the track is a masterclass in pub-rock-meets-new-wave minimalism. It’s got that lean, dry sound that defined the late seventies UK scene. Honestly, it’s a bit of a miracle the song even exists in its current form, given how chaotic the Stiff Records era was. Nick wasn't trying to write a symphony. He was trying to catch a vibe.

The Bare Bones of And So It Goes

If you listen to the track today, the first thing that hits you isn't the melody—it’s the space. Most producers in '78 were trying to fill every square inch of a tape reel with noise. Not Nick. He understood that the silence between the notes tells the story. And So It Goes is built on a foundation of a driving, almost motorik bass line and a guitar tone that sounds like it’s being played through a radio in a rainy London basement.

The lyrics? They’re classic Lowe.

He’s not weeping. He’s not shouting. He’s observing. There’s a detachment there that feels incredibly modern, even decades later. It’s about the inevitability of change and the way relationships dissolve into the background radiation of our lives. When he sings the title refrain, it doesn't sound like a surrender; it sounds like an acceptance of the terms of service for being human.

People often confuse this with the Billy Joel song of the same name. Big mistake. Huge. While Joel’s track is a piano-heavy ballad meant to make you cry into your wine, Nick Lowe’s And So It Goes is a shrug of the shoulders while walking through a crowded street. It’s cooler. It’s tougher. It’s got more dirt under its fingernails.

✨ Don't miss: Cómo salvar a tu favorito: La verdad sobre la votación de La Casa de los Famosos Colombia

Why the Production Still Holds Up

Rockpile—the band consisting of Lowe, Dave Edmunds, Billy Bremner, and Terry Williams—was a force of nature. They recorded fast. They didn't overthink. You can hear that urgency in the recording.

The drums aren't processed to death. They sound like actual wooden sticks hitting actual drum heads. In a world of digital perfection, that "realness" is why the track still pops up on Spotify editorial playlists and gets shared by crate-diggers. It feels tactile. You can almost smell the cigarette smoke and the stale beer of the studio.

The Stiff Records Context

To understand the DNA of this song, you have to understand Stiff Records. Their motto was "If it ain't stiff, it ain't worth a f***." They were the rebels. Nick Lowe was their house producer, the guy who helped Elvis Costello find his voice and gave The Damned their kick.

And So It Goes represents the bridge between Nick's role as a producer and his identity as a solo artist. He was taking the lessons he learned from sharpening other people's songs and applying them to his own work. He stripped away the fluff. He kept the hook.

What's wild is that this song was originally a B-side. In the seventies, B-sides were often where the real magic happened because the pressure was off. There was no label executive breathing down your neck about "radio potential." You just played. And because Nick was just playing, he stumbled onto one of the most durable melodies of his career.

🔗 Read more: Cliff Richard and The Young Ones: The Weirdest Bromance in TV History Explained

The Lyrical Subtext: A Shrug of the Shoulders

The phrase "and so it goes" is famously associated with Kurt Vonnegut in Slaughterhouse-Five. Whether Nick was directly referencing the book or just tapping into the cultural zeitgeist of the era is a point of debate among fans. But the sentiment is identical. It’s a mantra for the survivors.

  • It’s a song for the morning after.
  • It’s for the realization that a lover isn't coming back.
  • It’s for the moment you realize your youth is a rear-view mirror phenomenon.

The brilliance lies in the upbeat tempo. If this were a slow song, it would be depressing. Because it’s a mid-tempo rocker, it’s defiant. It’s about moving forward because, well, what else are you going to do?

Legacy and the Cover Version Trap

Over the years, many have tried to cover Nick Lowe. It’s harder than it looks. Most people try to make his songs "bigger." They add strings. They add backup singers. They ruin it.

The reason And So It Goes works is because it's fragile. If you push it too hard, it breaks. It requires a certain British reserve—a "keep calm and carry on" attitude that Nick possesses in spades. It’s interesting to note that as Nick has aged into his "Silver Fox" era—transitioning from a power-pop pioneer to a soulful crooner—this song has aged with him. It still fits. It doesn't feel like a relic of a younger man's ego.

How to Listen to Nick Lowe Properly

If you're just discovering this track, don't stop there. You need the full arc.

💡 You might also like: Christopher McDonald in Lemonade Mouth: Why This Villain Still Works

Start with Labour of Lust. It’s the definitive statement. Then, jump forward to his later work like The Convincer or Dig My Mood. You’ll see that the DNA of And So It Goes—that blend of cynicism and heart—never really left him. He just got better at hiding it behind a well-tailored suit.

There's a reason why artists like Wilco and Graham Parker hold Lowe in such high regard. He's a songwriter's songwriter. He knows that a song doesn't need to be six minutes long to be profound. Sometimes, three minutes and a catchy bass line are all you need to explain the entire universe.


Actionable Steps for the Nick Lowe Completist

To truly appreciate the craft behind And So It Goes, stop listening to compressed YouTube rips. Go find a clean vinyl copy of Labour of Lust or the 2011 remaster. The dynamic range matters here because the song relies on the interplay between the bass and the vocals.

Next, watch the live performances from the Rockpile era. Pay attention to how Terry Williams drives the beat. It’s a lesson in "less is more." If you’re a songwriter yourself, try stripping your latest demo down to just two instruments and see if the melody survives. If it doesn’t, you haven't written a song yet; you've just written a production.

Finally, check out the 1978 promo videos. They capture a specific moment in London musical history where everything felt possible and nothing felt precious. That’s the environment that birthed this track, and it’s the energy that keeps it alive today.

The reality is that And So It Goes isn't just a song on a record. It's a philosophy. It's the realization that life is a series of "and thens" and "so whats." Nick Lowe just happened to put a really good beat to it.