DOWN at my local, Hell’s Waiting Room, there is live music most nights, mainly of a laid-back, acoustic sort.
I quite like these nightly sessions. They provide the booze-fuelled lullabies that we dysfunctional residents of Madford-on-Sea (New Brighton) need.
Beer and wine mix very well with schmaltzy ballads such as ‘Leaving on a Jet Plane’ and ‘Miss You Nights’.
I also like the great Irish love-and-rebellion songs which always stir my Celtic blood. My favourite is ‘The Fields of Athenry’ which includes the killer line … ‘Nothing matters, Mary, when you’re free’.
What a profound truth those words contain. Human freedom has rarely been as bitterly contested in the world as it is right now.
At root, preserving freedom (as we in the West understand it) is what the War on Terror is all about.
And yet, paradoxically, it is in Western societies that freedom of thought and expression are now under dire threat from the new and nastily proscriptive liberalism that abounds.
But I digress. Since I’ve started going to New Brighton’s live music sessions, songs have assumed a greater importance in my life than previously.
And because I’ve become so much more interested in music and its power to inspire the human heart, I took the trouble to watch the Brit Awards on telly last week.
It was not an impressive spectacle. The excitement seemed to me entirely synthetic – as is often the case with TV events.
The only bit I enjoyed was Paul Weller belting out his brilliant Jam hit ‘Town Called Malice’. Weller is more than a singer, more than a mere musician. He is a national poet who captured the spirit of Britain perfectly.
The same could be said of Morrissey, of course, but of precious few other British recording artists, who mainly choose to sing like ersatz Americans.
I could barely stomach James Blunt’s simpering Brits performance of his popular but lyrically dumb ‘You’re Beautiful’.
So James has seen a beautiful girl ‘on the subway’, his drippy song informs us, but she was with another man. ‘I won’t lose no sleep on that,’ he continues, ‘‘cause I’ve got a plan.’
Hmmm. Turns out to be not a very good plan. Because just a few line later he concludes: ‘I don’t know what to do, ‘cause I’ll never be with you.’
It is funny how mega-hit songs like that can have the most banal and unsatisfactory lyrics.
Another such song that comes to mind is John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’, which makes me cringe. Yet millions around the world are beguiled by its eerie tune (which I can understand) and think its lyric to be beautiful and idealistic (which it is not).
The words of ‘Imagine’ describe a world which would be, I’m quite sure, absolutely horrible to live in.
This bleak, atheistic and hopelessly naïve song invites us to think of a world where there are: no countries (so in effect, no culture); no possessions (that’s rich, coming from a multi-millionaire); and no religion (but the trouble is people who don’t believe in God will end up believing in anything).
The song also invites us to ‘imagine all the people living for today’, which is absolutely not a good state to be in and betrays a very foolish approach to life.
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Gerry Quinn wrote...
Hi Steve
First look at your page tonight.As an old git player from the 'other' side of the lake, I heartily agree with comments about 'Imagine', the worst song ever.When I fool around on my guitar( everybody says I sound like I fool around anyway ) I will not let my strings be muddied with this abysmal song.For the real Lennon, try: 'In my life'.
Gerry Quinn
Offshore Nigeria
(but will be home soon)
Later
Steve Regan replies: Thanks for that,Gerry. I think there is something about naive songs, such as 'Imagine', that makes them popular with the thicker elements in society. I feel the same about Robbie Williams 'Angels' and the 'You're Beautiful' by James Blunt (the latter made even more hideous by Blunt's whining, soppy voice). When you come home, come and play in New Brighton, perhaps in my local, Hell's Waiting Room.
Posted by: Gerry Quinn | March 13, 2006 1:05 AM