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Buddy Holly – It Doesn’t Matter Anymore

Introduction

“It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” by Buddy Holly is a poignant ballad that captures the essence of heartbreak and resignation. Released in 1959, the song showcases Buddy Holly’s distinctive vocals and songwriting prowess, delivering a message of acceptance and moving on from a lost love. With its soulful melody and emotive lyrics, “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” remains a timeless classic that continues to resonate with listeners, transcending generations with its universal themes of love and loss. Join us as we explore the enduring impact of Buddy Holly’s “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore.”

Did You Know?

  • “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” was written by Paul Anka specifically for Buddy Holly, who recorded the song in 1958.
  • The song was one of Buddy Holly’s final recordings before his untimely death in 1959, and it was released posthumously.
  • “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” became a major hit, reaching No. 1 on the UK Singles Chart and No. 13 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.
  • The song’s melancholic yet hopeful lyrics and Buddy Holly’s heartfelt delivery have made it a cherished favorite among fans and musicians alike.

Video

Lyrics: It Doesn’t Matter Anymore

There you go, and baby, here am I
Well, you left me here so I could sit and cry
Well, golly gee, what have you done to me?
Well, I guess it doesn’t matter anymoreDo you remember, baby, last September
How you held me tight each and every night?
Well, whoopsie daisy, how you drove me crazy
But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore

There’s no use in me a-cryin’
I’ve done everything and now I’m sick of tryin’
I’ve thrown away my nights
And wasted all my days over you

Well, you go your way and I’ll go mine
Now and forever till the end of time
I’ll find somebody new, and baby, we’ll say we’re through
And you won’t matter anymore

There’s no use in me a-cryin’
I’ve done everything and now I’m sick of tryin’
I’ve thrown away my nights
And wasted all my days over you

Well, you go your way and I’ll go mine
Now and forever till the end of time
I’ll find somebody new, and baby, we’ll say we’re through
And you won’t matter anymore
You won’t matter anymore

 

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SHE WAS A BRIDE AT FIFTEEN, A MOTHER AT SIXTEEN, AND THE FIRST WOMAN NASHVILLE EVER HAD TO CALL “ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR” — THEN SHE NAMED HER BABY AFTER THE BEST FRIEND SHE’D JUST BURIED, AND THAT BABY SPENT A LIFETIME MAKING SURE NEITHER VOICE WAS FORGOTTEN. Loretta Lynn came out of Butcher Hollow, Kentucky, with nothing but a coal miner’s last name and a voice that could pin a grown man to his chair. Married before she could drive. Four children by twenty-two. Then she wrote songs that scared Nashville half to death — about cheating husbands, birth control pills, and women who’d had enough. Sixteen number-ones. Presidential Medal of Freedom. The whole world calling her the Coal Miner’s Daughter. In 1963, her best friend Patsy Cline died in a plane crash. The next year, Loretta gave birth to twins. She named one of them Patsy. That little girl grew up backstage, between tour buses and honky-tonks. She formed The Lynns with her twin sister Peggy. Earned CMA nominations. Then she did something quieter and heavier — she stepped behind the glass and co-produced her mother’s final albums alongside Johnny Cash’s son. Loretta died October 4, 2022. That first birthday without her, Patsy woke up reaching for a phone call that wasn’t coming — her mama singing “Happy Birthday,” the way she always had. Does knowing Loretta named her daughter after a ghost she never stopped grieving make “I Fall to Pieces” feel like it belongs to both of them now?

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SHE WAS A BRIDE AT FIFTEEN, A MOTHER AT SIXTEEN, AND THE FIRST WOMAN NASHVILLE EVER HAD TO CALL “ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR” — THEN SHE NAMED HER BABY AFTER THE BEST FRIEND SHE’D JUST BURIED, AND THAT BABY SPENT A LIFETIME MAKING SURE NEITHER VOICE WAS FORGOTTEN. Loretta Lynn came out of Butcher Hollow, Kentucky, with nothing but a coal miner’s last name and a voice that could pin a grown man to his chair. Married before she could drive. Four children by twenty-two. Then she wrote songs that scared Nashville half to death — about cheating husbands, birth control pills, and women who’d had enough. Sixteen number-ones. Presidential Medal of Freedom. The whole world calling her the Coal Miner’s Daughter. In 1963, her best friend Patsy Cline died in a plane crash. The next year, Loretta gave birth to twins. She named one of them Patsy. That little girl grew up backstage, between tour buses and honky-tonks. She formed The Lynns with her twin sister Peggy. Earned CMA nominations. Then she did something quieter and heavier — she stepped behind the glass and co-produced her mother’s final albums alongside Johnny Cash’s son. Loretta died October 4, 2022. That first birthday without her, Patsy woke up reaching for a phone call that wasn’t coming — her mama singing “Happy Birthday,” the way she always had. Does knowing Loretta named her daughter after a ghost she never stopped grieving make “I Fall to Pieces” feel like it belongs to both of them now?

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“YOU MAKE THE COFFEE, I’LL MAKE THE BED.” — GLEN CAMPBELL DIDN’T NEED A LOVE POEM. HE JUST NEEDED AN OKLAHOMA MORNING. In December 1971, Glen Campbell released “Oklahoma Sunday Morning.” It peaked at #15 on the country charts—not his biggest hit by a long shot. But something about this track stuck. It wasn’t about fame or tragedy; it was about coffee, making the bed, and packing a lunch. It was the kind of love that doesn’t make headlines. But the way Glen sang it, you realized he wasn’t just describing a routine. He was singing about the only place that truly felt like home. A kid from a sharecropper’s family of twelve in Delight, Arkansas—who went on to sell 45 million records—poured something deeply personal into this quiet track. Fifty years later, folks across Oklahoma still know every word. Some songs don’t need to reach #1. They just need to be true.