tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868509096107161157.post1989345875219531637..comments2023-05-18T05:41:22.018-07:00Comments on Jeremiah Blues: ORIGINS: JEREMIAH BLUES (PART 1)La Teyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05651688700033763289noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868509096107161157.post-54549192261753877622008-05-26T21:15:00.000-07:002008-05-26T21:15:00.000-07:00This was Sting when what he sang about mattered. T...This was Sting when what he sang about mattered. The human condition and all that jazz. Apathy and the dearth of popular icons (with governments and self-appointed pricks taking over).<BR/><BR/>I got "The Soul Cages" when I was in Form Two. Reading Tom DeFalco's "The Mighty Thor" while listening to that album. Didn't know what the heck a "concept album" was all about. Only knew that he was singing about his dead father.<BR/><BR/>Over the years, I quoted some lines from "The Soul Cages" (Island of Souls and Mad About You) to impress chicks. None of them knew what I was getting at. But it didn't matter much. It worked.<BR/><BR/>Then I took part in a pop-magazine quiz on Sting and "The Soul Cages" album. It was one of those rare times I actually went out to get an envelope and stamps, line up at the post office and sent the damned thing off. I didn't win. Guess they didn't like the slogan I wrote. I'm not very good at slogans.<BR/><BR/><B>"One day he dreamed of the ship in the world<BR/>It would carry his father and he<BR/>To a place they would never be found<BR/>To a place far away from this town."</B><BR/><BR/>These lines haunted me but I had no love for my father. Maybe that's why they haunted me.<BR/><BR/><B>"Trapped in the cage of the skeleton ship<BR/>All the workmen suspended like flies<BR/>Caught in the flare of acetylene light<BR/>A working man works till the industry dies<BR/>And Billy would cry when he thought of the future"</B><BR/><BR/>I didn't understand all the references to the worker's rebellion and the tyranny of industry then when I was 14. But I liked the poetry in those lines.<BR/><BR/><B>Two priests came round our house tonight<BR/>One young, one old, to offer prayers for the dying<BR/>To serve the final rite<BR/>One to learn, one to teach<BR/>Which way the cold wind blows<BR/>Fussing and flapping in priestly black<BR/>Like a murder of crows<BR/><BR/>And all this time, the river flowed<BR/>Endlessly to the sea<BR/>If I had my way<BR/>I'd take a boat from the river And I'd bury the old man<BR/>I'd bury him at sea<BR/><BR/>Blessed are the poor, for they shall inherit the earth<BR/>Better to be poor than a fat man in the eye of a needle<BR/>And as these words were spoken I swear I hear The old man laughing<BR/>'What good is a used up world, and how could it be worth having'<BR/><BR/>And all this time the river flowed<BR/>Endlessly like a silent tear<BR/>And all this time the river flowed<BR/>Father, if Jesus exists, Then how come he never lived here.</B><BR/><BR/>These were probably the first lines from a song that led me down a long spiralling descent into paganism. Like Matt Damon in "Dogma" explainin' to this nun how Lewis Carroll made him lose his faith.<BR/><BR/><B>And all this time the river flowed<BR/>In the falling light of a northern sun<BR/>If I had my way I'd take a boat from the river<BR/>Men go crazy in congregations<BR/>But they only get better<BR/>One by one One by one...</B><BR/><BR/>Men go crazy in congregations but they only get better one by one. Can we say "Amen" to that?<BR/><BR/>~ Edmund<BR/><BR/><B>Sometimes I stare<BR/>Sometimes it's me<BR/>Sometimes I stare<BR/>Sometimes it's me</B>Edmund Lauhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17764555123754526332noreply@blogger.com