To celebrate “the most wonderful time of the year,” Atwood Magazine’s Mistletones column features fresh holiday/wintertime tracks and exciting covers of beloved classics. December has a knack for bringing out some of the most poignant, tender, and celebratory music, and we want to highlight that excitement by showcasing new and alternative holiday greats! Spice up your holiday season with songs you can listen to now and cherish in the years to come.
listen to MISTLETONES on Spotify
Aching with love and longing, C. Shirock’s stirring “First Snow” captures the holiday’s magic in a passionate, moving rock ballad.
What is it about the ‘holiday season’ that makes it so special? It isn’t the weather, or our compulsive spending habits, or the days off from work; rather, it’s the people we choose to share our time with – the family and friends we lavish with our love and attention. Aching with love and longing, C. Shirock’s stirring “First Snow” captures the holiday’s magic in a passionate, moving rock ballad.
Through the door I hear a voice
Calling over time and space
Through the noise I see a face
Shining bright at heaven’s gates
Stream: “First Snow” – C. SHIROCK
Atwood Magazine is proud to be premiering “First Snow,” C. Shirock’s new holiday single (out now). Nashville-based singer/songwriter Chuck Shirock’s music previously appeared in our pages with 2017’s heartbreaking “Back Against the Wall,” a tale of learning to let go. “First Snow” offers another lesson in remorse and moving on as Shirock sings of that first holiday season without a special someone.
Raw, pained, and full of power, “First Snow” finds Shirock channeling his most vulnerable side as he taps into the weight of an incredible loss. The singer evokes the late Freddie Mercury in his howling inflections and hushed cries, taking us back to our own special memories and meaningful moments (and giving us all one more reason to listen to him on repeat!):
It’s the first snow without you
The first snow alone
The first snow and all I see is you
Can you lead me home
“There was a man named Ray that I was close to… Maybe the closest thing to a grandfather I’ve ever had,” Shirock tells Atwood Magazine. “Ray sang in a quartet growing up and met Betty when they were young. They had been married maybe over 60 years if I remember right… one Christmas I remember hearing that Ray was in the hospital. At the time, I think he was close to 90, and it was uncertain if he would recover. I remember my thoughts turning to his wife Betty, my heart broke thinking about her, and what might be the first Christmas she had without Ray. I sat down at my piano and started writing “First Snow.””
Shirock continues, “This song has become so close to my heart as people I love so dearly have lost siblings, parents, loved ones… The idea of the ‘first snow’ has also been special to me. Growing up in Scotland, I remember the first time it would snow, and how excited I would get. Then in Detroit, and later in Nashville. The first snow always felt so peaceful to me.”
Begin, and find some peace
Before the morning bells are ringing
Though blurry eyed and weak
You sing, “I’ll be your shelter from time and worry”
It’s the first snow without you
The first snow alone
The first snow and all I see is you
Can you lead me home
“First Snow” may be a mournful lament, but what it does more than anything is remind us to celebrate our lives as we’re living them – because there’s no turning back the clocks, and no way of knowing how much time we have together with one another. Be in the now, and cherish every moment.
“So wherever this season finds you, if there is an ache or a sadness because you’ve lost someone you love, I hope this song brings some comfort to you. I hope you can look back with thankfulness and gratitude on the days you shared with them, and all of the ways you are who you are today because of them. And mostly, I hope you find peace.”
Stream C. Shirock’s “First Snow” exclusively on Atwood Magazine.
listen to MISTLETONES on Spotify
Connect to C. SHIROCK on
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram
Discover more new music on Atwood’s Picks
? © Emilia Paré