I was listening to a recent album – Doctor Moan – by one of my musical heroes, Peter Case. It’s great, as always, but unusual in that a lot of the songs are piano based, rather than guitar.
It led me to sit down at the piano, and just mess around with some chord changes, and pretty soon I had a song.
I wrote the song back in January and started this blog post then, but didn’t get it finished. So I’m using some time I have now to finish off some of the things I was working on.
The first line – ‘There are so many stories that should never be told’ – came from something I heard, or read somewhere. I must get into the habit of making a note of where these initial ideas come from …
But that first line got me thinking about the horror of the situation in Gaza, and most of the rest of the words just came in a stream as I was out walking one day in January.
I also had remembered (and noted!) some words from the film ‘The Magnificent Seven.’ The quote that I took from the film comes right at the end of the film, after the seven have helped to rid the village of Calvera and his men.
‘Only the farmers have won. They remain forever. They are like the land itself. You helped rid them of Calvera the way a strong wind helps rid them of locusts. You are like the wind, blowing across the land and… passing on. Vaya con Dios.”
The Reaper (Working title)
There are so many stories that should never be told Of lives that were broken, that never got old. Their choices were cut down They’re buried or they’re burned
Swarming all over the land Stripping the fields of grain And everything you see that grows, All that grows
For now the Reaper has won The earth receives her own Watered by the tears that flow, The tears that flow
And only the strongest wind Helps them be rid of the curse They are like the wind that blows, The wind that blows
And the graveyards are filled with the people so bold The women and men and the children now cold (repeat x4)
And I do believe in the milk of human kindness, But sometimes it seems to run dry I do believe that there must be hope somewhere And I will keep looking for the signs
Is it true that one small light Is all the light we need To banish all the dark away, the dark away ?
I don’t often write songs with an overt religious theme, or message, but was keen to write something for the Christian festival of Pentecost, coming up on May 19th.
The images come from the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament, and one from Celtic Christianity – the Wild Goose.
I love that you can’t nail God down, but must allow God to be seen from different directions and in a variety of ways.
Rowan Williams talks about one of the ways of seeing God that he finds most helpful – that is, that God is free; more proactive than reactive.
If you like – we might be blown by the wind, but God is the wind doing the blowing. (As I read that back to myself, it doesn’t feel quite right, but I’ll leave it for now !)
I am the strong wind blowing among you I’m the bright flame alight on your head I am the water flowing all through you Remember the words that he said:
I give you my word, my presence will fill you. Wait for the promise. My spirit will come.
I am the Wild Goose, come to disturb you I’m the white Dove, the bringer of peace I am the cloud going before you Wait for the Spirit’s release
I am the breath, breathed into you I’m the soft whisper you long to hear I am the oil of anointing upon you Wait ‘til the Spirit is near.
I’m quite an emotional person. I will have tears come to my eyes at the oddest things. A tree in leaf, a scene from a film … but mostly music.
I can hardly listen to some music without weeping. I chose that word carefully – I could have said cry, rather than weep, but I think weep is closer.
The artist who does this so consistently that I have to be careful who is around when I listen to him is Jackson Browne. I was out on week 5 of Couch to 5 K (again, and for for the fourth time) this morning, and listening to the title track of his 1974 album ‘Late For The Sky.’
Mmhh. Here come those tears again.
So anyway, I cry a lot.
And, related to that, another musical thought.
For some reason, the words of a Moody Blues album came to mind early this morning, so I put it on to listen. From ‘On the Threshold of a Dream’. It reminded me of a time before music streaming, before the internet, before CDs and even before cassettes, when all we had was the radio and vinyl.
So let me take you back to the late 60’s. The news comes out that your favourite band are about to release a new album. You can’t just google it and listen, but you might just be lucky enough to hear a track played on Kenny Everett, or John Peel. Or a friend might have, quite by chance, heard the track and told you about it, knowing how mad you are for their music.
So what do you do ? You head off to the local record shop. In the late 60’s it would be an independent, but by the early 70s, Virgin Records were opening stores all over the place and we had one in Brighton, just a short train ride from where I lived.
Depending on how much you loved this band’s music, you might just buy it without hearing it, or you could ask them in the shop to put the record on, and you would listen to it in a small booth, equipped with speakers in the walls. That’s where I first heard Deja Vu, the magisterial album by CSNY.
But let’s say you just went out and bought it. I remember around that time a typical price for an album was £2.29.
You would get it home, and put it on the turntable. Remember, you’ve only heard one track, or maybe not even that. You’re in your room, and listening to the album, track at a time. And, as you listen, you’re looking at the lyric sheet, if there is one. (Jackson Browne’s early albums had no lyric sheet, so you need to listen really carefully)
The lyric sheet will tell you who is playing on the album – so for example, if Jackson Browne’s second album had a lyric sheet, you would have seen that someone called ‘Rockaday Johnnie’ was playing piano on the track ‘Redneck Friend.’ It was in fact Elton John, but not having a permit to work in the US, he went by a pseudonym.
The point is, you would invest time to listen carefully, and having heard side one, you would carefully turn the vinyl over and play side two, all the way through.
My son and his wife are in the new vinyl generation. The price has gone up – typically £30 for a vinyl record, but I’m guessing the experience is similar. The band that does it for him is ‘Everything Everything’ and I’ve heard him talk about getting and playing the vinyl in the same way that I did back in the 60’s and 70’s.
So, where does that leave me … ? I think I need to be more intentional about my listening to really get the most out of the music that I love.
For example, I had never properly heard this line from Jackson Browne’s song ‘Doctor My Eyes’ before the other day: Doctor, my eyes Tell me what is wrong Was I unwise To leave them open for so long?
What a great lyric. And as time went on, we heard Jackson Browne write and sing about the big issues of our time – especially the nuclear threat, war, and the environment. Despite the challenge and tendency to become disillusioned, he has kept his eyes open and brought to our attention the things that matter.
I think this is finished … maybe a couple of tweaks here and there. It’s taken a while, but I’m encouraged listening to an interview with Jackson Browne about songwriting. Two that I’ve listened to this week –
I have a tune and hear a fairly sparse arrangement at the start – maybe guitar and penny whistle, with bass drum coming in, and then some snare, with bass and accordion and mandolin in there also.
I’m keen to show the band, but it will have to wait until we’ve practised some other new material that we’re working on.
See my previous post for more info on the song.
Regeneration
Voice 1 I catch a glimpse of you – dancing in the field nearby Your arms are waving gracefully against a Monday sky Your bare head cold, with sisters by your side With winter still to came – All Hallows Tide
Voice 2 I see you standing still – alert for sound or sigh Your arms are steady, reaching out as if to touch the sky Your bare head cold, held high with pride Come dance with me, here by my side.
Voices 1 & 2 If only we could meet, but that shall never be Even for just one day – to be set free (rpt )
Voice 1 Time passes by, but I have not forgotten you You’re always on my heart, and in my view Now clothed in green, diamonds on your sleeve Your kisses blown, carried on the breeze.
Voice 2 Time was when I thought love was leaving us behind You’ve been the constant one, ever on my mind Now spring has come, and scattered on the ground Seeds of the future lie like snowflakes all around
Voices 1 & 2 I’ve got a feeling that our lives will never end The road is going over Jordan and beyond (rpt)
I’m not sure, but there seems to be a feeling that you don’t talk about songs that you’re writing, for fear of taking away the mystery, but this is a small room, and I know I can trust you as I share something I’m working on.
So, I was driving home to Gloucester from North Wales a few weeks ago, and I was enjoying the thousands of trees with their bare branches. I was thinking about the structure and shape of the trees in their winter clothing, and had a picture in my mind of a tree that had a crossed trunk at the bottom, as if it were standing with legs crossed like a ballerina.
Immediately a line came to me … I catch a glimpse of you, dancing in the fields nearby.
Another line came quickly … Your bare arms waving gracefully, against a Monday sky. (It was a Monday)
As the thoughts developed, I imagined a conversation between two trees in nearby fields. The first tree then says to the other tree something like … I see you standing still, alert for sound or sigh.
Then some words of a chorus came … ‘If only we could meet, but that shall never be…
Other snippets of words that I had at the time have been abandoned, and now it looks like this:
I catch a glimpse of you, dancing in the field nearby. Your arms are waving gracefully against a Monday sky Your bare head cold, with sisters by your side With winter still to come, All Hallows tide.
I see you standing still, alert for sound or sigh. Your arms are steady, reaching out as if to touch the sky. Your bare head cold, held high with pride Come dance with me, here by my side
Chorus If only we could meet, but that shall never be Even for just one day to be set free.
Then I stalled … wanting perhaps two more verses … maybe with a conversation in springtime now ?
Then, as often happens, there was some serendipity
First of all, I came across a blog about the Redwood tree, and how they. have shallow roots, but which extend for a long way under the ground, This allows the trees in the group to get strength from each other, and withstand the wind etc. There something here about how we are stronger together; the need for interdependence to survive. I began to think about telling the story of my two trees as one where they need each other, even though they ‘can never meet’
Then, another piece of good fortune – a windfall you might say ! We were watching an edition of a programme on BBC TV called Countryfile, where we were learning about the Black Poplar tree. This is a tree native to the UK – and not often seen, because of the decline in its habitat.
The Black Poplar is quite a rare tree, there only being 7000 in the UK. They are dioecious – which means that there are male and female trees. Now I knew this was the case with the holly tree, but hadn’t thought about other trees being this way.
The fertilised seeds need to fall on damp ground, making river valleys perfect places for this species. But the drainage of the land for agricultural has made it difficult for these wetland trees and they have slowly disappeared from the landscape. A recent survey estimated there are only 7000 black poplars in England, Wales and Ireland, of which 600 are female.
If you’re wondering where I’m going with this as far as songwriting is concerned, stay with me …
I have these two trees in my song so far … they’re looking at each other and are mutually attracted. But they are trees … and getting together is a problem.
So how about if they get together in another way ? Both male and female trees bear flowers in clusters called catkins. The female catkins are green and produce seeds, while the male catkin is red and produces pollen. If a male and a female tree are growing close enough together, then the seeds can be pollinated and germinate to give seedlings. How cool is that ! But in fact, there are so few wild black poplars left that it is unlikely they will pollinate each other. Instead, the large numbers of cultivated trees pollinate them resulting in no regeneration of true, wild black poplars. However, some projects, like the one seen on Countryfile, are aiming to encourage the growth of the wild Black Poplar through pollination.
So I’m working on verse three where the male is speaking – something like this
Time passes by, but I have not forgotten you You’re always on my mind and in my view Now clothed in green, with diamonds on your sleeve Blowing kisses, carried by the breeze.
The shape of the black poplar leaf is described variously as heart-shaped, or diamond-shaped … so I could have as the third line in the verse above S’s …
Now clothed in green, your heart worn on your sleeve
Whichever I go for, I’m now trying to get the angle on what the female might say … work in progress. I’ll try and bring in the colour red.
And then there will be a second chorus, which would have different words to the first chorus (does that make it technically not a chorus )? … which goes something like this:
The seeds are scattered underneath our feet A promise of the time, when we will meet.
(That is – in the next generation of the tree ….)
My misgiving is now that I have made it too clearly about trees, when one of my guiding principles is ‘show not tell’ ???
Latest song … got the tune and everything. Just looking for an opportunity to sing it …
By the way … we started rehearsals with a band a couple of months ago – such a delight to be making music with friends. It looks like our first gig might be in February at the Folk Trail in Gloucester
(Friday 16th Feb upstairs at the Drunken Duck in Gloucester)
Anyway … here’s the song lyrics …
We left the house and climbed the hill One morning in the early spring We saw a flock of sheep just standing still As if they saw something And there we knew That we had come to holy ground
A silent wonder like a flame The very coolness of a stone And it was like reminders of a dream I wasn’t there alone And then I knew That I was there on holy ground
The night we sat and looked at stars One constellation caught our eye A sudden breath of wind that made us start The colours of the sky Both black and blue The mystery of holy ground
Holy ground x3
The moments when we feel the touch Of what we hesitate to name (For fear that now we try to say too much) Remind us why we came For something new That speaks to us of holy ground
I know more than I understand I know more than I understand I know more than I understand
I’m seeking holy ground Remember holy ground This might be holy ground
The enjoyment that comes from writers block is the knowledge that I’m not going to produce something poor. If I don’t write another song, no one, including myself, can be critical.
There’s nothing to evaluate. Because I need the next song to be good, I stop writing, and there’s a measure of satisfaction in being above criticism.
And … it may be that this understanding, this realisation, this self awareness might in itself change the relationship that I have with writing. ?
Today is the feast day of Saint John the evangelist.
The Gospel reading set for today is from the end of John’s Gospel:
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.
So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’
Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went towards the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.
He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in.
Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.
Then the other disciple who reached the tomb first, also went in, and saw and believed.
In the songs that I’ve been writing in the last few years, I have been aware of the power of ‘Show not Tell.’ It seems to me that in poetry and in songwriting, often it’s the less you say, the more you tell.
John’s Gospel is the most poetic of the four Gospels, and in this sparse retelling of the discovery of the empty tomb, much is left to our imagination.
We understand that the ‘disciple whom Jesus loved’ is John, but he is not named here. Perhaps we can imagine that by not naming him, it leaves the possibility for us to be a part of the retelling?
Can I, in my imagination, be that unnamed disciple ? What do I see as I look into the tomb ?
All we are told is that he ‘saw and believed.’ This is the ultimate ‘Show not tell’
I took some ideas to the songwriting circle I go to and sang what I thought might be a part of it
If you don’t feel the despair, you’re not listening If you don’t feel the despair, you’re not listening We might as well be walking in the dark We might as well be walking in the dark
I wanted some positivity in the song, not just despair, so I tweaked those lines to repeat later
If you don’t feel the desire, you’re not living If you don’t feel the desire, you’re not loving We might as well be walking in the dark We might as well be walking in the dark
I had some other lines, but hadn’t managed to put them together. One of the others at the songwriting circle offered to take some of my other words and work on them.
Interesting proposal … I said yes. Why not give it a go ?
The only reservation I was having was that the heart of the song was to be about not seeing the reality of a situation that is in crisis. Being blind to it, or seeing it, but not being willing to do anything about it.
Within hours, I had a message from Chris with some words … some from the bits I had sent him, and some he had added. I had a problem with one of the lines he had written, and to be honest, I couldn’t get past that line. I hate being negative about what other people do, and I couldn’t bring myself to be honest about that one line, so I just stalled.
We were away from home, and I couldn’t process what he had sent me until we were back home, a couple of days later. But when I finally got around to looking at what he had sent, I was able to see beyond that one awkward line and work on the whole.
Here is what we ended up with …
Is it dusk or is it dawn, The beginning or the end? We’ve been here so many times before! Nothing left but tears and pain,
These arrangements are not working, Don’t cry, you’re not to blame, My soul is calling for the soil, Let me dream again! Oh Let me dream again
It seems like death just falls away, Like drops of water, just about to land! You’re holding on to every yesterday But find there’s nothing in your hand!
If you can’t feel my despair, you’re not listening, Like jewels, the tears on my cheeks are glistening! We might as well be walking in the dark
If you can’t feel my pain, you’re not listening, I’m like a ship that’s slowly listing! We might as well be walking in the dark
Throwing ashes in the sky There’s a message in the rain It seems we’re deaf to every cry Maybe there’s one last chance for us to change
These arrangements are not working, Don’t try to shift the blame The Earth is calling for the soil O let her breathe again
These arrangements are not working, Every breath is pain. When the time comes round To lay down in the soil, We’ll dream again!
We’ll dream again! We’ll dream again!
I’m happy that I’ve been able to keep the heart of what I intended in the song. Also very happy that the collaboration was a success from my point of view. Without the collaboration, the song would not exist !
The text exchange with co-writer Chris was very encouraging. He likes the end result, which is important to me.
The next time I go to the songwriting circle in a week’s time, I hope he’ll be there, and I’ll play it …
Five Short Words 