Hats Off

It’s all too easy to look back and focus on the mistakes. The wrongs moves. The wrong choices.

”If only”.

Listening to Hats Off I got thinking about one of the many, many decisions I’ve made, that, in retrospect, look mistaken.

”What if?”

And it is those sort of questions which can turn me into an ice statue when I’m making my decisions today. How do I avoid making mistakes with today’s decisions?

I Don’t.

Hats Off to the next one.

There Will Be Weather Tomorrow

Have you seen those folk who go on holiday prepared for every eventuality. They never really look like they’re having a holiday.

99 percent of the preparation for anything is in our heads… a willingness to accept the unexpected. The kit might help. But it can most definitely hinder if it weighs us down in mind and body.

”There Will Be Weather Tomorrow” will always be the most reliable forecast.

And some of it will catch us by surprise.

Like An Angel

The mythical story tells of an Angel, Lucifer, who was the head honcho angel in heaven. The Angel of Light. But Lucifer rebelled against God, was cast out of heaven, and became known as The Devil, Satan. A symbol of darkness, chaos and evil.

As God created Lucifer in the first place, we can reasonably conclude that everything - Darkness, and Light, Goodness and Evil, Chaos and Order - originated from God. And as God, in this particular story, has no beginning and no end, then all of these features of life, are also without beginning or end. They stand outside of time.

I often find myself intentionally looking for the beauty and wonder of life, because my own inherently developed tendency has been to see the ugly harshness of life. It has helped me to gain some balance.

But in truth, The Truth, is that our every experience and perception is a part of the whole. The truth is that the universe, my own consciousness even, when all the layers are peeled away, accepts everything that arises without judgement. Those things we call good and those we call bad.

Like An Angel, I can choose to smile and accept, or I can rebel and fight against everything that already is. But real, freedom can only come, has only ever come in my experience, from accepting the fundamental truth of everything that comes my way.

It’s all “God”.

The Off Switch

I’m trying to follow my own advice in The Off Switch. It was good advice I think. Even a broken clock tells the correct time twice a day.

So my laptop sits on top of a set of drawers. I have to stand to use it while I’m writing this. And I don’t take my phone to bed at night. I don’t look at it before I’ve been for a walk in the morning, or done a few other things.

It’s strange how difficult it sometimes still is to pull myself away. None of it feels particularly comfortable yet, even though it’s been a while. It’s almost as though I’m addicted to Screen Life.

Surely not?

But I definitely feel better when I’m spending less time being infantalized by Dominatrix Digital. Though she doesn’t like it when I refuse her commands.

Galapagos Finch

Galapagos Finch isn’t as famous as, say, Paul McCartney.

And John Lennon once said that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus.

I sing my song, named for the finch in question, and still some people are oblivious to the role that he played in the development of the theory of evolution. And some other people still think that evolution is a big con - that God (their very particular God, not somebody else’s) did it all. Some other people, who believe God did it all, also believe that he (or she) did it through the process of evolution.

It’s a minefield of confusing narratives out there. Because we all like evidence for some things, but prefer faith and dogma in other situations.

But it really is getting harder to place a flag in the Continent Of Knowledge and declare - This! This is, almost certainly, The Truth.

Experts and Authorities have had their day.

And good riddance, some might say. They wielded far too much power.

Trouble is, as that ancient Continent breaks up and drifts apart, we all find ourselves with less and less solid ground to stand upon. Good Reason hasn’t got the microphone anymore. In fact the microphone, courtesy of The Net, has been given to every Tom, Dick, and Harriet.

Now any old fool can run a country. Or question a scientist.

Well, like everyone else, I’ve got a microphone. For what it’s worth. So have you. Personally I’m going to use mine to do what I most enjoy. I’m going to sing. Think I’ll kick off with that famous Darwin song ”All You Need Is Love”.

Charlie Darwin! Wow! What a great songwriter he was.

And perhaps, just maybe, Love is the missing link, when all is said and done.

What’s The Question?

I got an education. Coz an education, like a prison sentence, is compulsory.

I’ve got a lot of respect for teachers. I thinks it’s one of the hardest jobs in the world.

But it shouldn’t be.

Teachers should be teaching people who want to learn. That’s how it should work. But because of our system, for better or, in my opinion, mainly for worse, they are more often than not trying to teach children who mostly, given the choice, wouldn’t be there.

Anyway, there are a lot of reasons for that. But I wrote “What’s The Question?” for anyone who struggled or struggles with school. Including the teachers.

Empire

Why do we humans even feel the need to build an Empire? To own more than we could ever use? To conquer other worlds? To be in charge of something other than ourselves? To get ever more likes and listens?

Our own conscious minds are a whole universe of experience and potential. Of freedom and exploration. Of creativity and imagination.

If we have that (and if we’re alive and conscious we always do) a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, family and friends … we are already kings and queens.

Surely enough?

It seems not.

Delayed Reaction

When we had our wedding related visit to Sri Lanka, there was a wonderful chance one time to go on an elephant safari. This happened a short while after I had listened to some personal stories about the temperamental and dangerous side of your Sri Lankan elephant. From someone who had themselves witnessed a relative being killed.

Elephants live in the wild in Sri Lanka, but because the island is small and fairly heavily populated, there is a lot of contact between the elephants and humans. Now and then, more often than is comfortable to think about, an elephant can get it into its head to attack people. There are about hundred deaths from elephant attacks every year apparently.

So, same day I heard that story, we were on a jeep in a nature reserve, and we had a great close up view of a herd of wild elephants. My Sri Lankan relatives who were with me were a lot more cautious, and stayed seated beneath the protective bars. Brave me (ha ha!) stayed stood up the whole time for a better view.

Until … well, I can only say that there was a brief moment when my heart nearly stopped. I was looking at a bull elephant. And he started looking at me. And I can only say that he wasn’t looking at me in a particularly friendly manner. He started moving in our direction very quickly. An elephant can easily lift a human out the jeep with its trunk.

The driver, I’m glad to say, was experienced and saw almost straight away (there was a brief delay) what was happening. He started the engine and drove away. I lived to see another day.

Fortunately, a Delayed Reaction is better than no reaction.

No reaction means you’re deid.

The Odd One Out

We’re wired up to be wary of strangers. It made sense once upon a time. It kept us safe. People who “stuck out”, were a bit “weird'‘, “strange” even… they were potential threats to the tribe. And the tribe was where we belonged.

Ironically, strange as it seems, in the global tribe we now inhabit, the world of Cyberia, we are all tending to become strangers to each other. The more information we have, the less we know people. Everybody looks a little bit strange now. Trust is in low supply.

But, you know, “you never can tell with The Odd One Out”. Maybe the stranger can become a friend. Maybe the stranger can save us.

Maybe it’s time to take a chance on the people we’ve written off.

The one’s we’ve estranged.

The Catahoula Leopard Dog

I walked upon a shoreline path this November morn, and came upon dog shit in several places.

As the song goes, “Come on clean up your shit”.

Which song? I hear you ask.

Oh, only one of my favourite compositions, The Catahoula Leopard Dog.

It’s a favourite for several reasons. I like the unusual title. I like the connection to people whom I had never met before who came from the USA to play a Homesong in my house. One of them had just such a breed of dog, which I later discovered, heralds from the state of Louisiana. I like the fact that I later wrote a completely unrelated song, with a woman I had never met, who came from Louisiana. I like the song itself and the way I’ve got a mysterious dream song, with a message about environmental pollution, out of such unlikely source material. There’s certain amount of songwritery pride in the creation.

All those reasons. In my imagination, I picture playing this song in a bar in New Orleans, with a cool local band backing me. It might happen one day. It might not.

The possibilities in dreams are endless. Sometimes it can even occur that strange foreign creatures make an appearance in them….you just never know.

Wild Women Of Woodgreen

Well this takes me back. The Wild Women Of Woodgreen was an affectionate song written about the (mainly) women I worked with in a particular care job that I did for a few years.

It specifically referred to the Christmas staff nights out, which I initially found terrifying. These Campbeltonian women could drink, and it brought out the wildness within. Poor little me, and the odd other poor fella, had to negotiate these nights with care.

In the end though they became kind of fun. But also not particularly healthy. I learned to drink too. A little too much for a period of time. It was kind of cultural here, though a lot less now, as the pubs, sadly I would say, despite the mayhem they are often responsible for causing, are gradually closing. They’re still a vital part of the community in my opinion.

The downside back then among many, was that it became a badge of pride to have an evening out that you couldn’t remember afterwards. That’s not a good look really, and I’m personally glad that those days are well behind me. But, hey, I had a great job with some happy memories. And, to quote the famous line…what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.

Also, there are always songs to be extracted from the debris.

The Old Boys

The Old Boys, the ones older than me even, remember not only a world without Ai, The Internet, Mobile Phones, Audio Books and Social Media. They can even remember a world without Television.

I’ve just finished an amazing book that I picked up from the local Library. (By the way, Libraries continue to be a great resource, and I hope they continue having a role in this changing world we live in).

The book in question is called The Way Home by Mark Boyle. He, it has to be said, is someone who most people would see as something of an extremist. He chose to live without money for a few years, for instance. And this particular book is about his ongoing life without making use of (almost) any of the modern tools and technologies that are available to us. Including electricity.

It’s not a life that the vast, vast majority of the world would even contemplate, let alone be capable of living. But his account is beautifully written, deeply honest, thought provoking and, if I’m honest too, a little guilt inducing.

I’m very wary of guilt and it’s place in leading a person to act. Mostly the kind of actions it leads to are impossible to achieve, or are short lived. Guilt is not ever the best kind of motivator in my experience.

Never the less, I’ve been challenged (again!) to think about the life I live, and how divorced it (and we) often are from each other, the planet we live on, and the kind of behaviours that might lead to more contentment and, well a more fulfilled life. And even, dare I say it, a better world.

I think the book was so profound that it will probably (I hope) lead to some changes in my own behaviours. I don’t know what they will be yet, and I’m not going to be hasty in making them. But for now, I’m simply recommending the book.

Soon enough I’ll be an Old Boy. There’s life in this body and brain, and there are certainly new things to be learnt and experienced. That much I never doubted. Here’s to more mistakes made, on the way to finding out what we can learn and experience next.

Yellow Teeth And A Pure Soul

My friend Gary Carey often jokes that I (“wisely”) don’t listen to any of his suggestions regarding changes needing made to the songs I’ve written.

In the beginning of my songwriting life I would always write a song and leave as was. Then I came across the strange concept of “Editing”. It was a bit of a shock to the system. It felt like messing with the art. I thought a song should emerge fully formed from the ether, and drop into my lap like a new born baby.

Of course life - and songwriting is a part of life - is never that simple. And so I took on board the need to change things in the songs I wrote. For a while I did it far too much, changing things that didn’t need to change. Years ago I completely rewrote a song that several people I knew really loved. The rewrite turned out to be crap. And I ended up forgetting the original.

Hey ho. These days I’ve learnt, if not mastered, the craft. And I usually get in the ballpark for how the song should be, fairly quickly. But I’m comfortable with the need to make changes that improve things. And I’m quite OK with hearing, and either accepting, or often rejecting, suggestions for change from others.

And I do listen Gary! In fact todays title song Yellow Teeth And A Pure Soul is a case in point. He might not remember, but a few years ago he suggested that one line in particular from this song - “polishing the sky” - stuck in his craw. I pondered upon his remark, as I usually do, even if not immediately. And although the recording above remains the same, I have changed the line to “reaching for the sky” instead. The critique and the change made sense to me.

Perfection doesn’t exist. But appropriate editing is a useful tool.

And so is brushing your teeth. I should probably do more of that too.

Where Did The Stars Go?

Light travels at…um….well the speed of light. Imagine a speed named after you! And imagine a bunch of light (that’s the technical term for its plurality!) setting off on a journey at that speed in our direction. Hoora fast! 186,000 miles every second.

OK, so it’s heading out at a lick. And light years later… a light year is the number of seconds in one year times by 186,000 (if we’re dealing in miles)….it reaches us. The very nearest star to earth (other than our sun) is 4.26 light years away. Which is a fair few miles

Some stars, though apparently it is rare, are so far away that they themselves have died by the time their light reaches us.

I find that idea encouraging. Because a kind deed is a little bit of light in a dark world. And perhaps its influence can also outlast its giver.

”Where Did The Stars Go?

They’re shining in your eyes.

Simplicity

Simplicity.

That’s a city I want to know better.

A place where there’s only one thing happening at a time.
One person at a time.
One problem at a time.
It only exists today. Now. Tomorrow is somewhere else.

Simplicity acknowledges complexity and accepts the truth of its existence. But it doesn’t try to understand it.

You’ve got to be humble to stay in Simplicity. It’s not a place for smart arses. It’s for people who know they’re limitations. People who aren’t in the game of One-upmanship. Who aren’t on the make.

A lot of people have moved out of there for good. It’s not a city that’s thriving. Could do with a few more residents to be honest.

I’ve been trying to move in.

Hope I don’t bring the tone down.

The Geeks Shall Inherit The Earth

The Geeks Shall Inherit The Earth.

Will they?

It’s all a mystery, and this song wasn’t really a prophecy. Les and I were just having a bit of fun with the idea at the time, as a way of trying to make sense of some realities that appeared crazy to us. As they do now.

But a crazy reality is still reality. It might be the reality we have to live with.

There may be peace to found in the midst of the storm.

But it never comes without looking our present reality fully in the face.

Alien In Slovenia

Alien In Slovenia got radio time. In Slovenia.

I like obscure song titles that peak the interest. At least my interest. It does make you wonder…”Well what the hell’s that about?”.

Doesn’t it?

And I often like it when the song itself leaves you wondering the same thing. It’s an incentive to listen again.

I’m very happy with the lyric I wrote for Alien In Slovenia. But without the accompanying catchy tune and a great vocal (in this case from Alison Leith) nobody would be coming back a second time to try and figure out the story.

I hope you do.

It Can Only End In Tears

It Can Only End In Tears? Really?

Not true.

It’s a turn of phrase we use when we aren’t very confident of a positive outcome. But other endings are available. At least in terms of our own experience. I’m convinced of that, despite having been a man of, predominantly, sorrow for far too many of my years on earth.

The tears came, can still come, when we want things to be different than they are. When, to quote Radiohead’s Creep:

I wanna have control
I wanna perfect body
I wanna perfect soul
I want you to notice when I’m not around

It’s all so far out of reach. And it’s in the future, if at all. So it’s understandable when we become miserable, because it’s all too easy to persuade ourselves. Everything we want is around some close or distant corner.

But still, the tears generally cease when we simply accept this. This.

ps. I do hope you read this blog as the meanderings (back and forth) of a man who is working it all out as he goes, and reporting on his personal findings, and repeating the same messages to himself when it helps. That’s all it is.

pps. Also it’s the blog of a little boy who might still find a fart joke funny. And laughs at his own hilarious self regularly. I suspect that side isn’t coming through much at the moment, but it’s never far from the surface. I hope I can always find joy in the absurd.

Blood And Bandages

It’s pure coincidence that the titles belonging to the songs written by myself and Les Oman are popping to the surface now, during this trundle through the archive, using those song titles as blog titles.

Pure coincidence that the songs written as a result of Donald Trump’s first presidential inauguration , nearly eight short years ago, are the ones I’m blogging on now — at the moment he gets voted in as American president for the second time.

Blood And Bandages is, at heart, a commentary on the fact that history doesn’t always progress in a smooth and improving manner.

Sometimes things go backwards.

We shall see what happens in reality. As is always the case, whatever the contradictory experts, including ourselves, predict. As I’ve said many times recently, I’m focussed on the shit that I can do something about, not the shit that is out of my control.

I also don’t want to be in the prophet of doom business.

So that’s my colours nailed to the mast anyway.

Have a nice day!

Like Minds

Like Minds is the only song in the now hundred and fifty strong Fee Comes Fourth collection that I didn’t have any part in the writing of. This one is all Les Oman. He sings the main vocal too.

And the song moves me and gets me thinking.

One of the hardest tasks, for me, of getting older, was the discovery that there is literally nobody out there who thinks what I think about everything. There is no soul brother or sister who perfectly aligns with me.

I discovered, in that sense, that I am completely alone in the universe. And I’m laughing as I write, because that revelation was actually a liberation. My idealist dreams and beliefs died, but life itself started to burn brighter. It turned out that reality was good enough.

And so is “similar”. Like Les, I’m still reaching out for Like Minds. They do exist. People who share that similar outlook and world view. A similar sense of humour and the ridiculous. A similar hope for the world we live in. A similar realisation that in our aloneness, we desperately need to find each other.

Because, in the famous words of John Donne, “No man is an island”.

For me, I suspect, the songwriting and this blog are my attempts to find those like minds. And it doesn’t need to be a lot of people.

Which is quite convenient as it happens. ;-)


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