Wednesday 28 January 2009

Music I

All the thoughts I've had have been encapsulated in music. And those of every mammal, insect, arachnid, etc. ever who lived. If it appears that you have experienced a moment not told in musical form it is only because that tune has not yet been formed, though it exists in that plane. Or you, more likely, haven't found the right music yet.

Tuesday 20 January 2009

Crazy Mama by JJ Cale

The title and the sound is enough. Just sit back and listen.

So it happens

The brown man talks his talk and the grateful public weep in acceptance. How many times have we seen this before? He may be browner but bugger-all else is different. Or perhaps I should change my yes hope can.

I Couldn't Love You More by John Martyn

This song is the ultimate 3 minutes of perfection. Put to one side the guitar playing, which is simple joy in itself, you will hear a passionate and beautiful ode to love. If you have ever felt love for a human, platonic or romantic, this song talks to you in a serious way. The deep, raw emotion pouring out from Martyn is life-affirming and heartbreaking. I tip my hat to his power and envy his ability to write an amazing song with one riff and an incredible voice.

If I kissed the sun right out of the sky for you....

Sunday 18 January 2009

Into The Light

Choice

In need of a reminder, sipping whisky, holding on to some hope
The graceless liar money will come from somewhere
These surroundings too familiar, sucked in, charmed
And hiding in the folds of the battered leather chair
Two girls on his mind so beautiful, arms open, innocent
They call to him and pierce a bitter heart
In the same spot many thoughts and hours later
Excusing the bad choice as giving the options serious weight

He recoils from the mirror
Slapped in the face, breathing hard
His shame openly taunts him
He raises a glass to his lips
And tastes a tear

Under the influence of all that restrained him the last spark of spirit refused point blank to die
And he knew deep down what he had to do
So easy to say, so hard to enact "Maybe a little drink
Will help me think" And drifting off, spinning down he goes
The true woman and the joyful child suffer the swings
And arrows of their misfortune never earned
Within sight of redemption he saw how far he still had to go
He curls up in a corner and weeps for it all

He stares at the mirror
Slapped in the face he stands his ground
His shame still lingers, haunts him
Smashing a glass to the floor
He tastes a tear

Friday 16 January 2009

Friday Night

In this world, friday is a quiet night. The child, Isla, is in the care of her grandparents and wrapped up in the excitement of her cousin's birthday party tomorrow. The woman, Vicki (we'll call her), sleeps.

I sit in a world that in the quiet lighting and excellent music, currently John Martyn's One World, speaks of tranquility and even joy. But that is not enough for me. WHERE ARE THE FUCKING QUESTIONS?

I ask myself and only, for now, get spurious answers.

I will return

Ah

Thursday 8 January 2009