Dona

[MarshFamilySongs @MarshSongs]

Here's a twist on Canadian legend @Alanis's "Ironic" (who was fab when one of us saw her live last month) - in an acoustic version that addresses Trump's #tradewar with Canada and his attempted renaming of Lake Ontario. It's called "Moronic" 🎶 - lyrics: https://t.co/EXENOvVUj2

[Canada Hates Trump @AntiTrumpCanada]

We. Are. Canadian.

[Emotion & Music @Emotion78687]

How could two people who had just met on stage, with only a few hurried minutes of rehearsal, sing as if they had shared the same heartbreak for years?

In June 1986, at the Prince’s Trust Rock Gala, Paul Young had already sung “Every Time You Go Away” once that night. The song was his biggest hit, a smooth, aching ballad that had topped charts the year before. Then George Michael appeared. He had not been fully expected. The two men had only a few hurried minutes to run through the lyrics backstage. What followed should have felt awkward. Instead it became one of those rare live moments that still feels alive decades later.

Watching the clip now, what strikes you first is how little either of them seems to be performing for the cameras. Young sings with the steady warmth that made the original recording so persuasive. Michael enters with a different kind of intensity—slightly more urgent, more exposed. They do not blend into one smooth sound. They take turns, listen, push each other a little higher on the chorus, then pull back. There is no visible competition, only a quiet agreement to stay inside the song together.

The circumstances make it more interesting. Michael had scheduling conflicts that evening. He arrived late and chose this particular track because it was the one he already knew. Young, who had just finished performing it, simply stepped back onstage and began again. Behind them sat an absurdly stacked band—Elton John on piano, Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler on guitars, Phil Collins on drums—yet the focus never drifts from the two voices at the front. The stars in the background only underline how little the moment needed decoration.

What gives the performance its lasting charge is the absence of polish. Most high-profile duets are rehearsed until the edges disappear. This one still has edges. You can hear the slight uncertainty of an unrehearsed entrance, the way one voice adjusts to the other in real time, the shared decision to treat the song as something fragile rather than a showcase. “Every time you go away / You take a piece of me with you” lands differently when sung by two men who had no time to protect their images. The lyric stops sounding like a radio-friendly heartbreak and starts sounding like a simple admission.

There is something quietly generous about the exchange. Young could have guarded the song as his own. Michael could have used the stage to remind everyone of his own rising stardom. Neither does. They make space. In an industry that often rewards self-display, the restraint feels almost radical. The result is not a perfect performance. It is a human one.

That is probably why the clip continues to circulate. It captures a night when two skilled singers decided, on very short notice, to trust each other with a song about loss. They did not turn it into a spectacle. They simply sang it, and in doing so left behind something more durable than most carefully planned collaborations. Sometimes the most memorable moments are the ones that almost did not happen.

[Dolly Parton @DollyParton]

A message from the family of Dolly Parton.

[Dona @Donacanada]

Bryan Adams - '51st State' (Official Lyric Video) https://t.co/HT0KvYdbmU via @YouTube

[Football Tweet ⚽ @Footballtweet]

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 The Scots have arrived. They have waited 28 years for this moment. Let them live it.