Released in 1976, Year of the Cat is one of those songs that plays like a film scene — wandering through a Moroccan marketplace, lost in romance, aware it’ll all fade by morning.
Scottish folkie Al Stewart wrote it with Peter Wood, blending storytelling folk with jazzy chord progressions and that unmistakable sax solo that instantly teleports you to 1970s FM radio.

It’s poetic and cinematic without ever feeling pretentious. You can smell the incense and hear the sandals on cobblestones.
The lyrics are pure Stewart — elliptical, romantic, and slightly detached, as if the whole thing’s already a memory.

It became his signature tune, charting worldwide and helping define the “sophisticated singer-songwriter” corner of the decade.

🎸 Ukulele Playing Tips

• Chords:C – Am – Dm – G – F – E7 – A7.
  • Verse: C – Am – Dm – G – C – Am – Dm – G.
  • Chorus: F – G – C – Am – Dm – G – E7 – Am.
• Strumming pattern: Gentle swing Down–Down–Up–Up–Down-Up, around 84 bpm.
• Tone: Light and fluid — let each chord shimmer.
• Dynamics: Keep the verses relaxed and the choruses flowing like a breeze through curtains.
• Optional flourish: Walk the bass line between C → Am → Dm → G using: A|------0-2-3--| E|--0-1--------| Adds that jazzy motion Al’s band nailed.
• Advanced move: End on Cmaj7 (0002) for that wistful “fade into memory” feel.
• Sing tip: Keep it soft and half-spoken — this song’s a confession, not a performance.

🧠 Trivia You Can Drop Casually

• The title came from a Vietnamese calendar his girlfriend had hanging on the wall.
• The lush production was handled by Alan Parsons (yes, Dark Side of the Moon Alan Parsons).
• The famous sax solo was by Phil Kenzie, who later played with The Eagles and Paul McCartney.
• The song was banned on some Middle Eastern stations for referencing “a silk dress running like a watercolor in the rain.” Scandalous stuff.

🌈 Final Word

Play Year of the Cat like a slow walk through an unfamiliar city at sunset — curious, calm, and a little enchanted.
Let each chord linger like cigarette smoke in an old café, and don’t rush the ending — this one’s meant to drift away.