I sincerely hope I haven’t killed this thread. That wasn’t my intention. There’s a learning curve with the culture here.
Well, I’ll rescue you from that “‘killed a thread’ guilt”, by telling a story of the only time my dad actually listened to “that junk you kids call music.”
The second time I ever saved up and bought an LP was John Wesley Harding, by a lad named Bob Dylan.
So it was playing while I was doing my homework in our living room, and my dad sat down and started reading the paper. I was just waiting for him to make a snide comment, but he was silent, lost in the news.
Suddenly, one line of the title track (telling of Mr. Harding’s exploits in the old west) made him laugh…
And soon the situation there was all but straightened out,
for he was always known to lend a helping hand.
“Joy to the world was a beautiful girl, but to me Joy meant only sorrow.”
– Harry Nilsson
So, it’s Valentines Day. And as I often do on this day I was thinking about Tom Waits’ song Blue Valentine.
And as much as I love this poem set to music, I can’t for the life of me pick a line to submit for this thread. If you’ve ever had your bleeding heart torn out, you’ll know.
Summary
She sends me blue valentines
All the way from Philadelphia
To mark the anniversary
Of someone that I used to be
And it feels just like a warrant
Is out for my arrest
Baby, you got me checkin’
In my rearview mirror
That’s why I’m always on the run
That’s why I changed my name
And I didn’t think you’d ever find me here
To send me blue valentines
Like half-forgotten dreams
Like a pebble in my shoe
As I walk these streets
And the ghost of your memory
Baby, it’s the thistle in the kiss
It’s the burglar that can break a rose’s neck
It’s the tatooed broken promise
I gotta hide beneath my sleeve
I’m going to see you every time I turn my back
She sends me blue valentines
Though I try to remain at large
They’re insisting that our love
Must have a eulogy
Why do I save all of this madness
Here in the nightstand drawer
There to haunt upon my shoulders
Baby, I know
I’d be luckier to walk around everywhere I go
With this blind and broken heart
That sleeps beneath my lapel
Instead, these blue valentines
To remind me of my cardinal sin
I can never wash the guilt
Or get these bloodstains off my hands
And it takes a lot of whiskey
To make these nightmares go away
And I cut my bleedin’ heart out every night
And I’m going to die a little more on each St. Valentines day
Don’t you remember, I promised I would write you
These blue valentines
Blue valentines
Blue valentines
Thank you for your understanding. Now dry your eyes and go to sleep, if you can.
“Not all martyrs see divinity, but at least you tried”
Tool - Eulogy
I just remembered the opening lines to Paul Simon’s “Graceland”. There’s no better way to start a song:
The Mississippi Delta
Was shining like a National guitar
This is such a strong image that instantly evokes all the good music that came and still comes from that region, especially the Blues of course.
Simon and Cohen gave long been my favourite songwriters. It is impossibly hard to pick the best lyric.
The easy stream of laughter flowing through the air, Rene and Georgette Magritte with their dog apres la guerre…
“And if they stare, just let them burn their eyes on your moving”
Hold Your Head Up.
Argent
And the sons of Pullman porters, and the sons of engineers
ride their fathers’ magic carpets made of steel
The City of New Orleans
-Arlo Guthrie
The City of New Orleans
-Arlo Guthrie
and written by Steve Goodman
The best actually written by Arlo might be from “Darkest Hour”:
The moonlight held her breast as she easily undressed
In my darkest hour.
Was watching, Respect, today, and as Aretha broke into the second verse of, “You Make Me Feel,” I remembered the neat-o first line:
When my soul was in the lost and found
You came along to claim it.
Carole King, you’re a genius.
Yep^.
Stayed in bed all mornin’ just to pass the time
There’s something wrong here there can be no denyin’
Now one of us is changin’ or maybe we’ve just stopped tryin’
It’s Too Late
-Carol King
I adore Carole King; she’s one of my favorite songwriters. However, from what I can tell, most sources I can find indicate that her then-husband and writing partner, Gerry Goffin, was primarily responsible for the lyrics to that song (while King composed the music).
I was wondering. Thanks for the 411.
I think you’re right, I also learned long after Carole King had become one of my favorite songwriters that in the songwriting team Goffin/King, Goffin usually (always?) was responsible for the lyrics and King for the music. But I think that in her later solo career, she also wrote the lyrics to her own songs.
Good album choice.
In real life, the gunslinger John Wesley Hardin (no “g”) apparently had no redeeming qualities. I say that Dylan added the “g” to make up for all the other “g”s he dropped like Blowin’ in the Wind and The Times They Are A-Changin’.
Steven, that’s a good old joke from back in the '60s.
"No one told you when to run: you missed the starting gun!
Pink Floyd, Time
Sit down father, rest you.