I’m not expecting this post to make any difference, but here it is anyway.
I’m not looking for external articles for this blog, though I can’t say for sure that there’s no way I’d ever consider one.
However, it’s very unlikely indeed that I’ll ever consider an external article that has no relevance to this blog. And certainly not if it’s blatant spam.
Words & Music by David A. Harley (all rights reserved)
This will hopefully evolve into something a little more polished, but I think the words are about where they should be. Unlike the politicians who ‘inspired’ them.
I used to push pens in the City
I was paid to milk someone’s cash cow
I once served my time at a dollar a line
But that’s not the job I do now
The clown wants some words to divert you
And asks me to build him some jests
A wink and a nudge, to distract some harsh judge
But that’s not the job I do best
The emperor assumes that I love him
This bully, this man without shame
He believes that I’ll praise all the lies he portrays
From his seat on the gravy train
A friend of the Fancy, his nose to the trough
Makes his profits from public pain
I can buy with sweet notes my way onto the lifeboat
If I honour this grandson of Cain
The rats have abandoned this Ship of Fools
The saints have forgotten to pray
Orpheus counts loot that he earned licking boots
But this is my text for today
Yes, this is my text for today
Immoralized in virtual print once more by the amazing Michael Hocking, during a live video set with the Kettle and Wink folks. I’d barely discovered the Friday night songwriters’ session when the world went crazy and I had to self-isolate. Ah, well… Evidently I was singing this at the time.
Last in a series of reviews for Folking.com of a series of CDs on a seasonal theme. While this one is loosely linked to summer, it’s largely focused on work and emigration issues.
Recommended to me by my friend Andi Lee (The Ashen): a Mixcloud podcast series by Jon Wilks at The Old Songs Podcast. Here’s the current listing:
Ep12 – The Old Songs Podcast – ‘Banks of Green Willow’, ft. Cohen Braithwaite-Kilcoyne
Ep11 – The Old Songs Podcast – ‘Lord Gregory’, ft. Burd Ellen
Ep10: The Old Songs Podcast – ‘The Leaving Of Liverpool’, ft. Jim Moray
Ep9: The Old Songs Podcast – ‘Myn Mair’, ft. Owen Shiers (Cynefin)
Ep8: The Old Songs Podcast – ‘Hal-An-Tow’ ft. Lisa Knapp
Ep7: The Old Songs Podcast – ‘Dives and Lazarus’ ft. Nick Hart
Ep6: The Old Songs Podcast – ‘Hard Times Of Old England’ ft. Billy Bragg
Ep5: The Old Songs Podcast – ‘An Acre of Land’ ft. Paul Sartin
Episode 4 – “The Sweet Nightingale” The Old Songs Podcast with Jackie Oates & Jon Wilks
Episode 3 – “On Humber Bank” The Old Songs Podcast with Jon Wilks & Ben Walker
Episode 2 – “Tam Lin” The Old Songs Podcast with Jon Wilks & Jim Moray
Episode 1: “Henry Martin / Lofty Tall Ship” The Old Songs Podcast with Jon Wilks & Nick Hart
I’ve been dipping in and out of UK and Irish folk music for many decades now, and am well-acquainted with most of these songs, but still found much to enjoy here.
At the time I wrote this, even being forty didn’t seem something I needed to identify with: all the other stuff seemed far, far away. So not too many biographical clues here. 🙂 In fact, I used to precede it with ‘Love Hurts’ so that you had two diversely miserable love stories together: however, I don’t think I could get away with singing ‘I’m young, I know…’ these days.
Backup:
An older version with solo electric guitar.
Backup
Words and Music by David Harley, copyright 1986
Front tyre blew Tax overdue Picked up A parking fine or two
Gas bill trouble Rent is doubled You say “NOW what’s wrong with you?”
Dentures slipping Nervous twitch 17-year-itch
I’m underpaid and overweight So let’s go and celebrate
Who said life begins at 40?
Kids are listening Separate beds Bitter thoughts In separate heads
Kids are screaming Dogs are howling Milk gone bad We’re out of bread
So I leer at typists Wonder which Might scratch My seventeen year itch
I must have wasted So much time The other side Of 39
Monday morning Bus queue blues MOT Overdue
My head is bursting My eyes need testing Sorry That I snapped at you
Sorry Sorry Always saying sorry Always praying There might be some peace sometime The other side of 65 But would it be so hard to be Another aging divorcee?
Last time I saw Jeannine, we lost most of our time
In the company of friends who were neither hers nor mine
Castaways in different cities, working through some breaks
Regretting our vocations, scared of making more mistakes
And we talked of where we’d been
How we’d passed the interim
Since the last time together, building up
A wall of coffee cups and cigarette ends
Keeping our last rendezvous
At least, it looks to be the last we’ll keep
The last time I saw Jeannine, we lost most of our time
Talking of ourselves in terms of once upon a time
Clinging to the wreckage of lives we’d left behind
Hoping for the miracle we lost somewhere in time
And shied away from conversation
Of ourselves but in relation
To each other, but together, building up
A wall of alibis half-spoken
And chances we were missing
At least, from here it seems we’ve missed them all
By David Harley, copyright 1973
The first line does, I suppose, invite comparison with Joni Mitchell’s ‘The Last Time I Saw Richard’, though I didn’t hear that until several years later. But I suppose you could also compare it to ‘The Last Time I Saw Paris’ or ‘Last Time He Saw Marie‘ if you really wanted, and you’d still be wrong. Personally I prefer the Mitchell song, but this has a certain nostalgic je ne sais quoi. See what I did there?
And for anyone whose interested in any biographical elements, the lady’s name wasn’t Jeannine or Richard, and it was Bangor (North Wales), not Paris.
I just realized that I also used the line ‘Last time I saw…’ in Diane. Probably Diane is the better song, and written about someone completely different. Whose name was not Diane, Richard or Jeannine.
Anyway, I promise not to use the line again. Probably.
Wheal Alice Music 