As the story goes, composer Gavin Bryars received a collection of recordings from a friend who’d been making a documentary about London’s homeless population. He discovered that one of the recordings, of an old man singing a simple spiritual refrain, was in tune with his piano. He created a simple loop of the recording and left it playing in the studio while he went out for some coffee. When Bryars returned, though, he discovered that the room’s mood was markedly different, with some people openly weeping.

He writes: “I was puzzled until I realised that the tape was still playing and that they had been overcome by the old man’s singing. This convinced me of the emotional power of the music and of the possibilities offered by adding a simple, though gradually evolving, orchestral accompaniment that respected the homeless man’s nobility and simple faith.”

Multiple versions of Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet have been recorded and released over the years, including one for Brian Eno’s Obscure label. This version, released in 1993, features Tom Waits adding his voice to that of the homeless man. It’s a simple concept on paper, taking a loop and slowly enhancing and bolstering it with swelling string arrangements. But it makes for a deeply moving and even devastating experience. Much like Henryk Górecki’s Symphony No. 3 (another one of my favorites), I don’t listen to Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet all that often, but it’s left a significant mark on my soul nevertheless, and whenever I do listen to it, I inevitably begin weeping myself.