Sometimes it’s rewarding to just go with the random.
I was driving my car to a thing the
other morning. Three hours one way then three hours back. I was listening to 'Marty in the Morning' on Lyric FM as I was driving along. I like Marty Whelan. He is
always trying to stay as positive as humanly possible. His interviews tend to
wind me up a bit though. I’m never sure what he might say next. Anyway, I
digress.
I was listening to Marty and, funnily enough, it was in his interview of the day, with Laoise Fitzgerald, that he mentioned about how a simplified voice and piano arrangement by the composer can bring new insights into a song of theirs. He cited as an example Jimmy Webb and how he had taken some of his ‘busier’ and most famous productions and recorded those songs with just him and his ivories. The person that Marty was interviewing agreed that this was, indeed, a good thing. This was, after all, most likely the way in which the songs had been written in the first place.
This must have sunk in because,
on the drive home, after I’d finished with Kermode and Mayo, I put on the album
‘Ten Easy Pieces’ which features Webb singing his own songs with little more
than his piano for company. If you click on the photo at the top, you can listen to a well known song from it..
Several things occurred while
listening and driving. Firstly, it’s an interesting listen. Webb is very good at selling his own songs but he isn’t always as good as the people who did the most
famous versions are. This shouldn’t be a massive surprise to me or anyone else. When I write one of my
little plays, it won’t be at its best if I just stand up on a chair and do it myself. I
need to get the best people I can to do it, to get it across in the best way possible.
It’s a bit of a no-brainer.
But conversely, if I should
happen to do it myself, albeit rather poorly, I may have a more intimate
understanding of the subtext of what I have written. More than practically anybody else
will.
So it is with Jimmy Webb.
Another of the several
things I took away from my listen is that ‘McArthur Park’ is a far more personal
and meaningful song than the whole ‘Cake out in the Rain’ business might lead you
to believe. I reckon I could write a whole other blog post about that one but,
for today, let’s just stick to the business in hand.
And the business in hand is ‘Wichita
Lineman.’
What a song it is. Definitely
in my top ten of all time. Whenever the late Glen Campbell comes on the radio to sing
it, I stop what I’m doing and I listen. What a song.
It’s a combination of many things that fall together to make it great but, for
one, it's the alternating naure of the verses. The first verse is mundane and businesslike. He is a
lineman for the county. The second is aching and highly personal. He hears her
singing in the wires. The third is, again, all everyday business. A vacation would be nice
but if is snows there’ll be too much work to do. The final verse in the clincher.
A spine tingling declaration of love. ‘And I need you more than want you and I
want you for all time…” It’s a lyrical masterpiece. And that’s just one thing about it.
Here's two takeaways from my
on-the-road listen to Jimmy Webb singing his own song ,Wichita Lineman. Both relate
to writing and, specifically, to my own attempts at writing.
Firstly, it can be a
valuable thing when someone offers you a direction to write in. Something to write
for. Something they need. Apparently, Glen Campbell contacted Jimmy Webb and indicated
that he would like another ‘place song’ to follow on from ‘By the Time I Get to
Phoenix.’ Would this masterful song even exist today if Campbell hadn’t communicated
that requirement? Who can say for sure. Possibly not. That possibility is enough
to make me sit up and listen when someone says they need a particular little something.
I have previously found inspiration and, indeed, motivation in that way and I believe I
will again.
Secondly, the inspiration for such a great song is so ordinary and everyday. Apparently,
Jimmy Webb had been driving along a stretch of road, noting telephone pole
after telephone pole along the way. Then, suddenly, there, in front of him, was a man on a tall
ladder, doing his day’s work. Fixing the lines. It was enough to start a train
of thought, a chain of connections. Something lasting and wonderful eventually emerged. A combination of a mundane request and a mundane encounter.
So I reckon I’ll just keep
looking and listening out for the little things along the way. I’ll also try to keep paying attention to
what you might tell me that you need from some written thing.
Castlebar Kenman… is still on the
line.
2 comments:
With regard to when someone offers you a direction to write in: I think a general rule in life is that when you're presented with an opportunity to do something that you wouldn't have otherwise done, or a chance to do things in a different way to usual, you should always take it, because you never know what new stimulus it might expose you to or what new experiences it might lead to - they might not always be good, but they'll very often present a new perspective. No-one on their deathbed regrets not experiencing less.
I was going to say I didn’t know ‘Wichita Lineman’ but I’m playing it just now, the Glen Campbell version (I paused Atomic Rooster to do that), as yes, I know it well but had no idea that was the title but here’s the thing, I have a terrible memory for song lyrics and titles. I mean there’re tracks like… pick anything by Pink Floyd… I’ve listened to hundreds upon hundreds of times and I still couldn’t sing a single song all the way through. I mean, if I was compiling the soundtrack to my life ‘Wichita Lineman’ would be there, in the low five-thousands but simply because I have had such a HUGE appetite for music of so many genres. Actually, I know what that song reminds me of. David Bowie’s ‘Starman’: the Morse code staccato (sounds like a flute) about fifty second in.
‘Wichita Lineman’ is one of those iconic songs like ‘American Pie’ I’ve probably heard just a bit too often for me to be passionate about or in awe of. There is nothing like hearing a truly great song for the first time. I remember when The Wall came out we all gathered in my wife’s fifth youngest’s sister’s flat to listen to it in reverence and Christ! It was good. Nowadays I like to listen to cover versions from the likes of Think Floyd or The Australian Pink Floyd for a slightly different take on the (overly) familiar. I would HIGHLY recommend Luther Wright and the Wrong’s EXCELLENT bluegrass version of the entire Wall (Rebuild the Wall). Here’s Another Brick in the Wall (all three parts) as a taster but if you dig around YouTube most of the rest is there.
I recently listened to the rerecording of Bat Out of Hell, entitled Paradise Found: Bat Out of Hell Reignited, featuring (apparently) American Idol winner Caleb Johnson who I had never heard of prior to this. And I was prepared to HATE it. I mean, how could you improve on the original? But, do you know what? I was moved TO TEARS on hearing it. It really was like the first time all over again. I don’t remember the first time I heard Bat Out of Hell (probably the radio) but it was like nothing else out there. Here's a link for you.
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