I'm just talking about blas-phe-my! Blas-phe-you!
- Eddie Izzard
My favorite musician is Chris Smither. It used to be Paul Simon, but I'm pretty certain it's changed. Not only is he one of the most amazing guitarists I've ever heard, he's an insanely ingenious lyricist. A highlight was getting to shake his hand when I went to see him live.
Chris is a folk and blues musician, really straddling the in-between places. Both genres tend to be very religious. It's one of the reasons I like blues, really, as the practitioners are religious, but sin anyways. Makes them human. But that's besides the point. Point is, religiousness. Except Chris. Somehow he manages to be relatively successful while making bunches of songs that express his religious doubts. Sometimes funny, sometimes thought-provoking, sometimes downright blasphemous. For example, see below, his song Origin of Species
Why do I bring this up? I have no idea really. I was just listening to one of his songs, and I started really paying attention to the lyrics, and I suddenly realized what he was talking about. The man is brilliant. The song is Call Yourself from his latest album, Time Stands Still, which everyone should own because I say so. I'm posting the lyrics below.
I got a suspicion
That the world is on a mission
To show me just how little I can do
Good times go by fast
All the bad ones seem to last
So much longer than I'd ever want them to
The way we deal with troubles
Reveals how much we know
They often make us stronger
But they lay us pretty low
Before they do
Some say they don't worry
Help is coming in a hurry
Celestial silence sounding so divine
Coming down so holy
Trailing clouds of glory
Bands of angels hustling up behind
Santa Claus is coming
The Easter Bunny too
Tinkerbell's been running late
But that ain't nothing new
She takes her time
There's just superheroes in all sizes
Coming like the sea that rises
In a tide to wash away our tears
They never show up till we need them
Not before we're bruised and bleeding
The nick-of-time is music to their ears
Dressed in ties and tails
A sight for jaded eyes
The whiteness of the suits
Sets of the blackness of the lies
We never hear
If you give them all your money
They'll say "thanks" and call you honey
Tell you silver is the way to save your soul
If you're empty deep inside
They'll take you for a ride
And charge you double just for pointing out the holes
Slick as Simple Simon
In a coat of shiny mail
An attitude of innocence
That never ever fails
To leave you cold
Oh the next time you're in trouble
When life's feeling like a bubble
Getting bigger while your mind is getting small
Skip the flash and thunder
Dial up your own number
See if you can answer your own call
Oh the conversation's brutal
It's often pretty clear
It's brief and to the point
And if you stick it in your ear
You'll hear it all
You'll hear it all
Friday, February 4, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
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