The Last House On Needless Street
Today’s blog is a book recommendation.
I finished reading The Last House On Needless Street by Catriona Ward yesterday. Ostensibly a horror story, which I would usually avoid like the plague, being the easily spooked fella that I am, I think it should more accurately be labelled a thriller … but one with ridiculous levels of heart and humanity.
It is simply one of the best novels I’ve ever read.
The story telling is wonderful, surprising, compelling, tender and hopeful. And the very difficult subject matter is handled with unbelievable compassion and empathy, gentleness and insight. I’m struggling to find the right superlatives, but it is really is that good.
Sometimes darker subject matter can leave this reader feeling a little bit empty and despairing. Catriona Ward takes an horrific situation and creates a genuine page turner, a real thought provoker, but one that somehow ultimately leaves us feeling optimistic and hopeful.
I can’t recommend it enough, but I don’t want to say anything more about the actual story except to plead you to read.
And feel free to spam me if you hate it. :)
Personally, I’ve got songs brewing somewhere inside.
The Opening Band
Here’s how you embrace the opportunities that arise when you’re at the bottom of the pile.
With style.
Indecisioning
I struggle with the decision that follows this very personal question:
What is the most worthwhile thing I can do next?
If I don’t ask myself that question for a period of time, then I find myself letting everything go. And of course it’s not an easy question to answer. The best ones never are.
However, when the question becomes the Slave-master, sometimes the most worthwhile thing I can do next is to not worry about answering the question.
Yep. Sometimes you’ve just got to surf the wave, go with the flow, and improvise the riff.
I know. You already knew that. But I needed reminding.
The Need To “Art”
I, of course, like the art of songwriting. That attempt to make something sound right and speak right inside a small three minute window of opportunity.
A novelist doesn’t have the music to worry about. But they have to get the words right, page, after page, after page. It’s a massive endeavour of imagination, empathy, and intellect. When it’s done well the reader doesn’t need to be persuaded to turn those pages. We follow in wonder, like moths to a flame.
A comedian is the bravest of all artists. I truly don’t know how or why they put themselves through it. Making people laugh is one thing. Making people laugh, on demand, something else entirely. To go through the process of learning how to do that, until people pay to watch, must be butt-clenchingly terrifying. They have to become the fool, so we don’t have to. And the best ones do far more than make us laugh.
Then there is the composer who writes not one melody, but ten, twenty, a hundred. And then arranges them together in a complete whole, in which the sum of the parts, which individually are wonderful, make something even more magical.
The list goes on. Artist, Poet, Director, Sculptor, Actor. And a multitude of other crafts, trades, skills, jobs, professions and hobbies that, in the right hands, even though they don’t always look like creative endeavours, become works of art.
We’re all trying to make our mark. We should never give up the hope of making something that is outstanding.
The Lost Keys
Sometimes the keys are lost, and you can’t get in.
To something.
Happened to me today. I lost my keys. In fact it happens most days. There is always something I can’t get into. Or solve. Or sort out.
The Lost Keys are the answer. The trouble is they’re lost.
Sometimes we need help to find them. Sometimes the key is to ask for help.
But the truth is that, more often than not, those dang keys turn up. A thorough search, a bit of patience, a sudden brainwave…or another’s kindness… usually solves the issue.
No reason to panic.
Song For One
There is probably still a music industry that looks something like this.
And you may have heard that in the region of 60,000 songs are UPLOADED to Spotify everyday.
In the past the advice to songwriters was to write something universal. Something that everybody can relate to.
In a way, that is still the Holy Grail. But, for songwriters, a better aim in this day and age might simply be to try and write something that means something to one very specific person.
That would be a start.
Annandale Services
Well, it’s been a good tour.
Great turnout, wonderful songs, lovely people. Lot of laughter.
And life on the road is the space in between. A time to reflect, and to sing along with much, gusto, love and affection to classic disco hits on the Zoe Ball show.
”Ring my be -e - el, Ring my bell………ding, ding….ding, ding, ding!”
Nice to be on the way home.
But the truth is, it’s all a pleasure, when I let it be. Even the part where I’m sitting in my car and typing the daily missive in a motorway service station car park.
Lucky bugger that I am.
Mattering To Somebody
This thing (this blog) I do every day, got forgotten the last two days.
Nobody died.
And of course I’m the one mainly bothered about it because it is I, and no one else, who decided that this was something I wanted to do everyday.
So it matters. And it doesn’t matter.
But I’ve had enough positive feedback to know that I might not be the only one who notices when it’s not there. And that’s a good place to be. Because whatever it is we’re doing, or creating, or singing, or making, all we really hope is that it matters to somebody.
Right In Front Of My Face
The blog I wrote yesterday got me reflecting on the impact of things happening far away, and close by. And how one can quickly become the other. Anyway, I wrote a song, the lyric for which is below.
Right In Front Of My Face
When your brother
In far off places
Is losing races
He never entered for
You want him to win
That bloody war
But you can’t fight for
You can’t fight for him
And your sister
You can see her face
In that other place
But you can’t speak to her
She’s crying now
That bloody war
But you can’t fight for
You can’t fight for her
There’s your mother
In another world
It’s another world
She’s heading for
She holds a child
That bloody war
But you can’t fight for
You can’t fight for her
Oh your father
In a far off land
Can he understand
What the fight is for?
He’s got a gun
That bloody war
But you can’t fight for
You can’t fight for him
Here today I walked on by
A stranger in my home town
He was sitting there out of view
Right in front of my face
Right in front of my face
Out of view
Right in front of my face
Out of view
Right in front of my face
Out of view
Right in front of my face
Out of view
Right in front of my face
The War On War
Everything seems trivial when we are hearing about tragedy in other parts of the world. And we ourselves, if we live in a peaceful time and place, are only here because of wars won and lost in our own part of the world.
Too much suffering and pain, in the past, and still today.
It’s always inconceivable to understand why humans keep returning to these same blood stained fields. But despite the ominous signs of the times, I’m optimistic for the long term. I think we will learn eventually.
In the meantime, the course of action for those of us who are lucky to live in a relatively easy place…the main thing that most of us can do to stand in solidarity with those who suffer…is to make sure that the connections, friendships, and communities that we are part of become stronger. And that as well as becoming stronger, they look outwards, beyond borders, and welcome in strangers and strugglers, refugees and wanderers. We can’t afford to be insular.
Because the time to build all of these connections is not when war comes. It is when we are fortunate enough to have peace.
It may partly be the bloodlust and greed of power hungry despots that leads us so often to war and conflict. But it is complacency, and the developed habit of turning a blind eye, by us, that allows it to happen in the first place.
A kind word or action, taking a stand against injustice, or building something that benefits more than ourselves, today, here, might not seem to be of much benefit to people who are suffering thousands of miles away right now. But I would suggest it is our primary duty, in the face of a general sense of powerless-ness, to take advantage of the privilege we enjoy, while we are free to do so.
We have more power to change the future than we think. And we owe it to those are suffering tragically today from past neglect towards Ukraine, to do so.
War might be a present reality. But it isn’t inevitable.
Back In The Groove
I was the first person to arrive at our cottage near Lampeter for our songwriting retreat. It was sunny, and warm out of the breeze. I got myself some lunch and a glass of wine and sat outside enjoying the sunshine. Lovely.
They say write what you see, especially when you haven’t written for a while. All I could see was Blue Sky. It’s not the most original title, but I picked up my little travel guitar, and found a little bit of inspiration to get myself back in the groove.
Fellow retreater, and Homesongs4Lifer, Gary Carey arrived later that evening. He’d managed to get his car stuck in a ditch. A different kind of groove, you could say. So I’m curious to hear what his first song is about…
Knocking On Doors
When you’re travelling, as I am, you see a lot of other lives happening. Lots of worlds that will probably never interact with your own world. It’s one of the those things that always causes me a sense of awe. Even more than the size of the universe!
Providing shelter for those other lives are an awful lot of houses. A lot of homes. A lot of potential Homesong venues I always think.
I don’t know how many of those homes contain people who love songs, and love people, and would make great Homesong hosts. But there must be quite a few.
Maybe I should start knocking on doors…
Adapting To Tomorrow
I’m travelling again so I’m trying out my phone dictator once more.
You would think that it would be easier to come up with something to say without the distraction and added thought process of needing to type. In fact it feels a strange and awkward process without the keyboard. And the technology is definitely not perfected yet.
I’m staying with my dad briefly. He is over 80 and of course for him the adoption of new technology is even more complicated.
It’s easy for both of us to blame the new gimmicks for our own limitations and point to its imperfections. It’s easier to stick with what we know.
But humans have been having to adapt to new innovations forever.
It’s probably better for our brains at whatever stage they are at to at least try and live in this brave new world.
Because one thing is sure. There will be something new to try tomorrow.
Cold Showers
Here’s the latest tune from my Fee Comes Fourth conveyor belt. Bringing great life advice straight to your inbox, with a chilly smile and, well…with a chilly everything really.
Cold Showers
Not taking one today mind you. Slept in the car last night.
Wagons Roll
I’m doing a fair bit of travelling over the coming three days. I have a little travel guitar to accompany me. I can turn the back of my car into a sleeping area. It would be a great way of touring and gigging as far as I’m concerned.
That is for the future though. This one is about seeing a few people from my past in various parts of UK, and then meeting up with some current friends with a view to writing some songs.
What with one thing and another, my song output has been very low recently, so it will be nice to fall off that particular wagon again.
But even nicer to spend time with some folk who I really like.
Maps
How much map do we need?
If every step is laid out for us, with clear markers and no room for doubt, then there is plenty of security. Nothing to worry or think about other than putting one foot in front of another.
If we are completely mapless and the path is unknown, the sense of adventure is exciting. Surprises around every bend and a heightened sense of anticipation.
Like most things in life though, a nice balance would be ideal. Enough certainty, but not too much. Enough adventure, but not too much.
And like most things in life the ideal doesn’t exist. We sometimes need to learn to live without a map even when we’ve got one. And to create our own map when none exists.
None of this may be of specific or immediate concern to you. But I’m planning my Homesong walk to Iran. You’ve got to think these things through…
Too Much Of Everything
Tonight my friend Les Oman is playing on HomeSongs4Life, in the company of Davey McCallum and Manus McGeehan.
Les and I live in the same wonderful, wee town, and knew each other a little through the music. We happened to meet up one day just at the time of the previous American president’s inauguration. We got talking about The State Of Things (over there and in general) and came away from that chat with a song title. A couple of months later we had together written all the songs for the album we subsequently recorded, called Too Much Of Everything.
Yes, this a plug. We’re very proud of that album and although inspired by particular events, it seems to have an ongoing resonance.
Making music with others can certainly be a personal salvation at times. Even if it doesn’t change anything very much.
“That’s A Great Idea”
You can’t copyright the title of a song.
And the best title in the world is nothing without the song itself.
Ideas are ten-a-penny.
Running with the idea, seeing it through to the finishing line. That’s where the work and the real creativity is needed.
And after that…there’s a whole new kind of work needed to bring the finished song to an audience.
”That’s a great idea” is a nice thing to hear.
But in reality, it’s a challenge to commitment.
Father And Son
Father And Son is a lovely tune about an age old subject by a fantastic song writer and an interesting fella.
Born Steven Demetre Georgiou, but still most widely known by his stage name, Cat Stevens. And today, ever since his conversion to Islam, called Yusuf Islam.
Tradition and Transition often seem to be in dispute with each other. But Yusuf Islam is an example of somebody who is both the very same person he was when he was born, and somebody completely different.
Deciding what to keep and what to discard… that’s a dilemma for a reflective Sunday morning ain’t it? It’s not always a straightforward process to separate the baby from the bathwater. It isn’t easy to take the best of what we’ve been given, and move forward in a constructive way.
But I think the people who wrestle with that dilemma are definitely more fascinating. More worthwhile to watch, if not to emulate.
It seems to make for a far more interesting kind of life when we try.