Amongst all of the tributes that I’ve seen being paid to Chuck Berry on his passing yesterday, I saw this.
I think it’s kinda cool. Music playing forever; travelling forever.
That’s Rock ‘n’ Roll.
A lad I know is a member of a local band. He had a riff and outline for a new song, but no lyrics. Being familiar with my book, he asked if I could come up with some lyrics for it, and this is my attempt. Something I’ve never done before, but I think poetry and song lyrics are consenting bedfellows.
I think it works better with the music rather than standing alone in naked print, but here you go.
Will let you know if it makes the radio 🙂
Hanging On 'Til Morning Satellite town where the sun sinks down the people are the sheaves of the concrete fields stirred by degrees by the Pennine breeze Hanging on 'til morning Hanging on 'til morning. The bucket bleed of the rusting heaps the black cats creep where the oil sinks deep wandering free the schizophrenic streets Hanging on 'til morning Hanging on 'til morning The stifled screams of a dead man's dreams sit up and watch the clock and the winnowing fork taking the drop on a lifetime's work Hanging on 'til morning Hanging on 'til morning ©AJM
Three new year-themed songs to ease your way into 2017. An official video from Abba; a song from Jeff Buckley; a live performance from U2. Take your pick.
Happy New Year Jackdaw followers and visitors.
I woke this morning to the news that Debbie Reynolds had died, just one day after Carrie Fisher. The strain must have been just too much for the aged star. “She’s now with Carrie and we’re all heartbroken,” said her son, Todd Fisher. “She said, ‘I want to be with Carrie’, and then she was gone.”
Debbie wanting to be with her daughter is a nice thought, but what a time their family must be going through. On hearing the news, the lyrics of Ja Rule came to mind:
If pain is truly love,
for my family I die.
R.I.P both mother&daughter.
I was singing along to Christmas songs. Walking In The Air came on: ended up with a neck like Deirdre Barlow.*
*for non-English readers, Deirdre Barlow was a character in a soap opera, whose straining neck chords were much commented on during emotional scenes.
On this day, the 8th of December, my two long-time favourite artists are linked irrevocably. In Memory and Gratitude:
The 8th of December is a date that links together my two favourite musical artists, two artists that I have been listening to for what seems most of my life.
On the 8th of December, 1943, James Douglas Morrison, son of a Navy Officer, was born. He would go on to become the focal point and frontman of The Doors, known by such self-given and tongue in cheek epithets such as the Lizard King, Shaman, and Erotic Politician.
He is one of the few rock or pop stars whose poetry is read seriously, as poetry. As a poet he tends to polarise opinion, but I like his writing, and his song lyrics helped to set the group apart from the usual music crowd. In the days when The Mama’s And The Papa’s were dreaming of California and over the pond The Beatles were telling the world that all you need…
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