There's a Fire still Burnin'

Things I found while looking for my father:

1. The blues
2. Bars
3. Smoke-filled rooms
4. Dirty women.

I had actually discovered all of these things before the old man passed away, but I never got to share them with him. He was weak and scarred and scared, and no longer the stud he had been in his navy days. He complained about the noise at a couple of my parties, and helped me once when I got pulled in by the police, and that was about it.

After he was gone, I went looking for lessons in how to be a man. And I went looking in the company of women. Not the normal way of doing it, I think, but it just seemed to me that the old John Wayne and Clint Eastwood type of masculinity was all washed up and nowhere to go.

I was sorry that John Lennon wanted to be with Yoko rather than Paul, and Marc Bolan ended up wrapped around a tree rather than Gloria Jones [G.L.O.R.I.A], but you know, I was right. It was the late twentieth century, and the way to be a man was to listen to the ladies, and find out what they wanted.


Mary Coughlan knew what she wanted.

I got a heart that's broken hearted,
How do I mend it?
I got a crying jag that's started,
How do I end it?
Well, honey, if you're gloomy
Come around and do me
Meet me where they play the blues

A day or two ago, I started singing this song to myself. (Yes, dear reader, I had a 'crying jag'. ) It's an old jazz standard from the twenties written by Jack Teagarden, but Ms Coughlan, being a fine, forthright, hard-drinking Irishwoman from County Galway, upgraded the lyrics a bit so that you knew exactly what was on her mind.

And you know, there's crying yourself to sleep, and there's crying yourself to sleep. Sometimes , the experience can be improved, without in any way changing the underlying mood or denying it, by matching it to the right music and the right company.

People have said they've seen you dance
In hideaway places
People have said you find romance
In others' embraces
Well, honey, if you're dreamy
Come along and see me
Meet me where they play the blues

Eyes that flirt with a tear
Are common round here
And misery loves company, they say
So I'll linger 'til dawn
While the trumpet wails on
And I'm hopin' you'll happen this way

I'm sick and tired of sippin' wine
And watchin' the bubbles
How did our dreams get out of line
And land us in trouble?
Well, honey, if you're learnin'
There's a fire still burnin'
Meet me where they play
I want you wehre they play
Meet me where they play the blues
MARY COUGHLAN

Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things

Jenny has a sweet tooth, but an acid tongue.

I went to a cobbler
To fix a hole in my shoe
He took one look at my face
And said, "I can fix that hole in you"

I beg your pardon?
I'm not looking for a cure
I've seen enough of my friends
In the depths of the godsick blues

You know I am a liar
You know I am a liar
Nobody helps a liar

Because I've been down to Dixie
And dropped acid on my tongue
Tripped upon the land
Until enough was enough

I was a little bit lighter
And adventure on my sleeve
I was a little drunk
And looking for company

So I found myself a sweetheart
With the softest of hands
We were unlucky in love
But I'd do it all again

We build ourselves a fire
We build ourselves a fire
But you know I am a liar
You know I am a liar

And you don't know what I've done...


By the rolling river is
Exactly where I was
There was no snake-oil cure
For unlucky in love

To be lonely is a habit
Like smoking or taking drugs
And I've quit them both
But man, was it rough

Now I am tired
It just made me tired
Let's build ourselves a fire
Let's build ourselves a fire.

Jenny Lewis

Yael Naim - Paris

This morning, my hangover was too severe to cope with the Chris Moyles Show, so I tuned to Chill DAB instead and found this lovely song by Yael Naim.



You might recognise Yael's voice from the MacBook Air commercial (she sings "I'm a new soul" while a hand slides the computer into an envelope.)

In this song, she's singing in Hebrew and French, and the only line I understand is when (I think) she says "I'm so happy here, so why do I cry at night?"

I think that's a reasonable question.

Sometimes sad music makes me really happy.