When the saxophone starts… I get chills
Some songs need lyrics to tell a story. Some need a voice to carry emotion. And some only need a saxophone to begin — and the whole body breaks out in chills.
“Lily Was Here” belongs to that last group.
Every time this dark, moody video appears, I’m caught off guard. Just a few opening notes, then Candy Dulfer’s saxophone slides in — smooth, confident, both soft and cold — and I’m pulled into another world. A dimly lit bar, yellow lamps, cigarette smoke, and eyes that don’t need to speak. Something in that first phrase always hits me the same way: a quiet tightening in the chest, a sudden stillness, as if the room itself has grown smaller and more intimate.
The video has no dialogue. The song has no lyrics. Yet it tells a story with striking clarity: something mysterious, tense, and lonely all at once. Candy Dulfer’s sax doesn’t scream or show off. It simply glides over the melody like someone whispering, drawing you in, then keeping a careful distance. There is a strange intimacy in the way she plays — as if the instrument is confiding something it doesn’t fully want to reveal. I find myself leaning closer without realizing it, waiting for the next phrase the way you wait for someone to finish a sentence they almost regret starting.
What’s fascinating is how almost accidentally this track was made.
In 1989, David A. Stewart (one half of Eurythmics) was hired to score the Dutch film De Kassière (released in English as Lily Was Here). The film follows a young supermarket cashier named Lily who becomes pregnant and is pulled into the darker currents of the big city. Stewart invited a then very young Dutch saxophonist — Candy Dulfer, only about 19 or 20, daughter of the well-known jazz saxophonist Hans Dulfer — into the studio.
According to Stewart himself, he waited until everyone was packing up to leave, then suddenly called them back. He hadn’t even finished watching the film. He just wanted to capture its feeling. He played a four-note opening on guitar. Candy answered on saxophone. They began a kind of musical conversation. She took a solo, then they traded roles. From the moment the idea appeared to the final mix, the whole process took about fifteen minutes.
An international hit created in a near one-take session.
Maybe that’s why the track still feels so alive. It wasn’t overworked. It kept its real breath, its real surprise, and a touch of spontaneity. Candy Dulfer later admitted she felt a little embarrassed at the time — she thought her part was too simple and even slightly off-key. But that lack of forced effort is exactly what gives the song its lasting pull. There is something deeply human in the slight imperfections, in the way the melody seems to hesitate and then continue anyway. It feels less like a finished product and more like a moment that was caught before it could disappear.
More than thirty years later, when I watch the video again, I’m still caught by the same feeling. The saxophone is no longer just an instrument. It becomes a character — both magnetic and dangerous, both close and distant. Much like Lily herself in the film: fragile yet stubborn, wanting to escape yet unable to break free. Sometimes I catch myself holding my breath during the longer phrases, as if exhaling too soon might break the spell. Other times the music leaves a quiet ache afterward, the kind that lingers in the chest long after the last note fades.
In an age overflowing with lyrics and meticulously produced melodies, “Lily Was Here” still stands as proof that sometimes less is more. One saxophone, one guitar line, a dark atmosphere, and the silence of the listener — that’s enough. It doesn’t try to impress. It doesn’t demand attention. It simply exists, and in doing so, it makes space for whatever the listener brings to it: loneliness, longing, memory, or simply the pleasure of being moved without quite knowing why.
I don’t know what you feel every time that saxophone begins. For me, the chills still run down my spine — the same quiet, involuntary reaction I’ve had for years.
Do you still remember the first time this saxophone gave you chills?
Un amigo mío se divorció después de 9 años.
Su mujer era buena persona.
De verdad.
Y todo el mundo le decía:
“Tío, eres idiota.”
En el juicio ella pidió:
la casa,
el coche,
y una pensión mensual para los niños.
Mi amigo se levantó y dijo:
“Que se lo quede todo.”
Hasta el juez le pidió que lo repitiera.
Su abogado tenía cara de querer tirarse por la ventana.
Después del juicio lo llevé en coche al piso de una habitación que había alquilado.
Le pregunté:
“¿Qué cojones acabas de hacer?”
Encendió un cigarro.
Se quedó mirando por la ventana.
Y me dijo una frase que todavía no se me ha olvidado:
I have a theory that society started collapsing when we stopped saxophone players from appearing in music videos with women in tight dresses and big 80's hair. I'm yet to hear a convincing counter argument
No solo es una de sus mejores actuaciones, sino que cambio vidas (la mía concretamente) Ver a una Madonna que cuatro años antes estaba sin un duro y luchando por ser bailarina actuar con Bowie, Queen, Los Rolling… y llevarse así el show pufff https://t.co/3Sdvr5vVkW