Last month, in the very first issue of Niko’s Music Magazine, I introduced you to Alaina Margaret Droog with her song "Rabbit Hole". She's an extraordinary artist whose personality shines through every line of her songs. With just a guitar and her voice, nothing more, she creates a raw and intimate sound. There's a lot of breath in the background, but that's part of the charm, proving that you don't need bells and whistles to make beautiful music. In her new song, "42," Alaina goes even deeper into this personal and minimalist style. She explores a seemingly insignificant aspect of our daily lives: numbers. As she explains: "Anyone who knows me knows that I like to share angel numbers (111, 222, 333) with those who are special to me in my life." 

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More information and the full article can be found in our magazine on Patreon.

The song has been added to "Niko's Music Mixtape", our monthly virtual CD on Spotify.

Alaina Margaret Droog's take on "42"

Anyone who knows me knows that I like to share angel numbers (111, 222, 333) with those who are special to me in my life. I really only used to share these synchronicities and special little spiritual moments with one person. And when this person was no longer a part of my life, I felt like I couldn't escape seeing them everywhere. In particular, I would see the number '42', which drove me crazy because that number was special to this person. I played this song for a friend once, and she told me the song sounded like it was about grief, which it is in a way. It's about grieving what once was, or what you thought once was, and trying to accept everything that's happened.

A bit more about Alaina Margaret Droog

Folk-pop and indie singer-songwriter Alaina Margaret Droog (she/her) writes edgy tunes with a country flair. Currently pursuing her artistic dreams in New York City, Alaina Margaret believes in leading a life of incredible adventure. Born and raised in her beloved small-town home of Grafton, North Dakota, her love of music began with her first guitar lessons at age seven. Alaina Margaret’s music showcases her ability to connect with people through compassion, sincerity, raw emotion, and charming wit. Alaina Margaret’s tongue-in-cheek songwriting captivates her audience through her genuine talent for acting, comedy, and stage presence. When she’s not writing one of her many tortured love songs, you can catch Alaina Margaret performing in New York and dazzling audiences with her latest obsessions through music.

Reach out to Alaina Margaret Droog

More songs from Alaina Margaret Droog on Spotify

Lyrics

On a jersey in a photo on a grad card 

In the Powerball up on the tv 

Where the minute hand is resting when I wake up 

of course, “42” is what I see 

Oh we always talked in numbers 

Like they had a higher meaning

Like a message from an angel just for us,

And I wouldn’t pay attention 

And you’d always point them out 

But it never felt like something worth the fuss 

Because you’d say it, just to say it 

Not to have something to share 

Not to believe in something magic 

Not to really feel me there 

now I see them all the time 

111 and 42 

And it wouldn’t mean a thing 

If Jackie Robinson didn’t share a birthday 

with you 

I remember the first time you said “I Love You”

The date was 3-27-23 

You asked me out on January 25th 

They’re not numbers from an angel

But they meant something to me 

And I don’t care that they’re not magic 

They were special all the same 

Just as simple as the letters of your name 

When I said that I loved you 

I said it like a vow

It was honestly just what it was, but it doesn’t matter now 

Because you’d say it, just to say it 

Not to have something to share 

Not to believe in something magic 

Not to really feel me there 

now I hear it all the time 

From everyone except for you 

And it wouldn’t mean a thing 

If you weren’t the first person I said it to 

No, it wouldn’t mean a thing 

And til I forget you 

I will grieve you just a little bit every time I see the number 42 

On the mile marker on the side of the road 

In a dog-eared page that I left in a book  

Where the minute hand is resting when I finally get home 

There’s a little piece of you everywhere I look 

A little piece of what we used to be 

The number 42 is what I see