🩷 About the Song
“Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” is the tender heart hiding inside all that 1980s synth sleaze — a breakup song that feels cinematic in its sadness.
Marc Almond’s theatrical delivery and Dave Ball’s icy synth backdrop made it sound like love falling apart in neon light.
It’s torch-song melodrama set to an electronic pulse: messy, beautiful, and unashamedly human.
Now, with Dave Ball’s passing, the song hits even harder — a bittersweet wave goodbye to one of synthpop’s true architects.
On ukulele, the electronics melt away and what’s left is pure heartbreak: gentle, smoky, and startlingly intimate.
🎸 Ukulele Playing Tips
We’ll play it in G minor, the original key — haunting but playable.
You’ll need Gm, Eb, F, Bb, and D7.
Verse progression: [Gm] – [Eb] – [F] – [Bb]
Chorus: [Gm] – [F] – [Eb] – [Bb] – [D7]
Strumming pattern: slow and sultry down–down–up–up–down–up at around 65 bpm.
Keep the strumming hand light; this isn’t a march — it’s a sigh.
Alternatively, fingerpick gently (pluck 4–3–2–1) for that candlelit melancholy.
Let each chord ring and bleed into the next.
Singing tip: Don’t belt — breathe. Marc Almond delivers it half like a whisper, half like a confession. Draw out the vowels, especially in “goodbye.”
💡 Trivia You Can Drop Casually
- Released in 1981, the song was Soft Cell’s follow-up to “Tainted Love.”
- Dave Ball’s minimalist synth arrangement was inspired by torch songs and film soundtracks — Sinatra meets synths.
- The title inspired David Gray’s 1998 cover, which reintroduced the song to a new generation.
- Marc Almond once said the song was “a film in my head — sad lovers in a rain-soaked London.”
- Following Dave Ball’s passing (2025), fans have revisited it as a quiet farewell to a musical pioneer.
🌈 Final Word
“Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” is proof that heartbreak doesn’t have to scream — sometimes it just sighs through a pink haze and walks away.
On ukulele, it becomes small and personal again — the kind of song you play late at night when the world’s gone quiet.
So play it slow, let it ache, and raise a quiet thanks to Dave Ball — the man who made sadness sound beautiful.
