Jon's S2L2A&A, 2015

Here's my 2015 edition of S2L2A&A - complete with liner notes! You've seen some of this before, but this is what will go with the CD I might eventually burn (another of Josh's perennial suggestions).

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CO-OPTED

Kirsten, with YCTC, ca. 2007

                 







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...This next piece is inspired by brother Josh’s persistent call for submissions of S2L2A&A: songs to listen to again and again. Josh would have everyone in the family compile and circulate annual CD-length lists of our favorite songs, and what a beautiful way of showing and sharing a part of what makes us tick, of celebrating our variety and expanding the awareness of our collective souls. Josh also encourages us, by making this an annual project, to keep adding to our life-list of favorite songs and to think year-round of what might go on our next year’s list. So, one song at a time, I came up with the following twelve songs, beginning with the first piece that is dedicated especially to Josh. Thank you brother!

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I am calling this collection “Co-opted,” as it is centered around three of my own poems that I have set to other people’s music.  Consider these co-opted works my P2S2A&A:  poems to sing to again and again.


WE WILL DRAW NEAR
1. Adiemus, by YCTC
2. Forever Young, by Bob Dylan
3. Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Parts I-V, by Pink Floyd
4. Tintinabulum, by YCTC

WALKING SONG
5. Modern Man, by Arcade Fire
6. Have a Talk With God, by Stevie Wonder
7. Modern Love, by David Bowie
8. Rococo, by Arcade Fire

STARRY NIGHT
9. Widow’s Grove, by Tom Waits
10. Vincent, by Don McLean
11. Pictures of You, by The Cure
12. Take It With Me, by Tom Waits

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WE WILL DRAW NEAR

The first song on my S2L2A&A list this year is Adiemus by Karl Jenkins, as performed and recorded in 2007 by the Youth Choral Theater of Chicago (YCTC), a group of seventy kids of all ages which for eight rich years included my daughter Kirsten.  As the title track of a 1995 album and choral concert premise called “Songs of Sanctuary,” Adiemus is a moving mix of harmony and crescendo and sanctuary, but it stands out especially by the way it seems to beg for more meaning.  “Adiemus,” as it happens, translates as “We will draw near” in Latin, but Jenkins claims to not have known this; rather, the words of his song, and of the whole album, were intended to be a sort of pseudo-Latin, leaving it to the listener to make sense of it.  Consider how the song begins:

Ari adiemus latte, ari adiemus da,
ari a enatus latte adua.

So what does this mean to me?  My first thought, from the first time I heard it, was a single word: blessing!  What a blessing director Paul Caldwell had given these kids, and what a blessing to have them so beautifully accompanied by flute and piano and violin and percussion; what a blessing for them to be able to sing and play in Evanston, Illinois’s First United Methodist Church, and then to have a recording of it to keep, to hear again and again, and now to share.  Eight years later, I’ve given it some more words that seem to fit, based on the well known “bless you, keep you” benediction and supplemented with one of my favorite meaningful words, “Immanuel.”  Worth repeating!  And yes, the descant remains: “We will draw near.”

Following this song is Bob Dylan’s 1973 benediction, Forever Young; then, the first five parts of Pink Floyd’s Shine on You Crazy Diamond (1975), with the lyrics, “Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun”; and after that, returning to YCTC’s performance of Jenkins’ Songs of Sanctuary, with Tintinabulum (2007).  Enjoy, again and again!


We Will Draw Near, by J. A. Vold
An interpretation of Karl Jenkins' Adiemus

Brother, may the Lord be with you
Like a shepherd in the field
Giving you the meaning of Immanuel.
May that mean the whole world to you,
God's world ever given to you,
Blessing you no matter where you are.

Sister, may a world of peace be
With you everywhere you go,
Everywhere the meaning of Immanuel.
May it mean that God will hold you
Like a mother holds her child who
Looks into the eyes of loving care.

Refrain:
And may God's face shine upon you
With an everlasting smile,
Giving you the meaning of Immanuel.
May it mean that God is with you everywhere.
May you know that God is with you everywhere.
Immanuel! Immanuel!

(Repeat Refrain)

Child, may the grace of God be
Something you will come to know
Living in the meaning of Immanuel.
As you wander through the fold and
Grow beyond the mother's hold, may
You remember you're a child of God.

(Repeat Refrain)

May the hands of the shepherd bless you.
(We will draw near!)

May the arms of the mother keep you.
(We will draw near!)

May the face of God shine on you.
(We will draw near!)

May the grace of the Lord go with you.
(We will draw near!)

May the peace of the world be in you.
(We will draw near!)

May you know God is always with you.

Immanuel!
Immanuel!

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WALKING SONG

This is my walking song.  Everyone should have a walking song, to break the silence, to add to the routine, to keep life's conversation going. A walking song helps one appreciate the world along the pathway and the companions of the day.  It's a talk to go with the walk, a song to sing when no one else is there.  Best of all, a walking song is a daily discipline, putting to practice the challenge of Paul.  From 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18:

Rejoice always, 
pray without ceasing,
give thanks in all circumstances...

Which leads, of course, to verse 19: "Do not quench the spirit."

This poem was composed in stages while I was, literally, walking my dog, but it started in a different form and to a tune if its own (think country twang with a Johnny Cash refrain); that extended version of the poem is included in these notes, but first up is the version that found a better tune in Arcade Fire’s Modern Man, from their 2010 album The Suburbs.

And on the CD, three more songs follow:  Have A Talk With God, by Stevie Wonder (1976); Modern Love, by David Bowie (1983), with its own “God and Man” confusion; and then a return to The Suburbs with Arcade Fire’s Rococo (2010).


Walking Song, by J. A. Vold
To the tune of Modern Man, by Arcade Fire

I’m a man, and this is my dog.
What would I hear if this dog could talk?
What would I say if I were the dog?

What would I think? What would I know?
Where would I run to? How far would I go?
Would I run away if I were the dog?

God is the man and I am the dog.
I’m not the man I once thought I was.
He seems so far away, and I don't know what to say,

Refrain:
(But I'll) stretch this leash from here to heaven,
And I'll sometimes think I know the way
And I'll take the paths that I’ve been given
And I'm learning, I'm learning what to say (how to pray).

I’m a man and this is my dog
And I try to listen when we go walk.
We walk every day,
We keep walking, me and my dog.

You may think that you know,
but you don’t understand
the walk of man and dog.

Whether dog, whether man,
you're just doing what you can
on the walk of dog and man.

Prayer is a leash, and this is my prayer,
And it’s drawing me close to the man up there.
He's not so far away, and I've been learning what I should say.

God is the man, but I am the one
Who walks with him when the day is done,
And with each breaking dawn,
   it looks like I am the one to...

(Repeat refrain)

...but you don’t understand
the walk of man and dog.

Whether dog, whether man,
you're just doing what you can
on the walk of dog and man.

You may think that you know,
but you'll never understand...

Whether dog, whether man,
you're just doing what you can
on the walk of dog and man.

Oh, the dog and man... (Repeat 5x)

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This Is My Walking Song, by J.A. Vold
(To its own tune)

Lately my life revolves around a dog
Who knows whose leash it is and whose routine
We follow, stretching thin the line between
Our independent wills.

I see the dog
As one who needs a master, while the dog
Sees one who needs a friend, and if I’ve been
One caught up on commands the dog has seen
Me friendly now and then.

So man and dog
Since time began have tugged upon this leash
And traveled down the trails of this routine
Each morning looking forward to the walk.

Man and dog,
Unequally assigned, but side by side
Man walks the dog, dog walks the man, and each
One seems to keep the other satisfied.

     I am the man. This is my dog
    What would I hear if my dog could talk?
    What would I want to say
         if I were the dog?

    What would I think? What would I know?
    Where would I run to? How far would I go?
    And would I run away
         if I were the dog?

    Let me stretch this leash from here to heaven,
    Let me sometimes think I know the way
    But let me take the paths that I’ve been given
    And learn what I should say.

    I am the man. This is my dog.
    I try to listen whenever we walk.
    But what can there be to say
         when you’re a dog?

Sometimes I find myself spinning around
And chasing after things that aren’t there,
Entangling the one whose leash I share
And losing sight of where we might be bound.

I’ve found it’s good to have someone around
To take my side, to set the pace, to bear
The distance and to gently lead me where
I know I need to go,

But I have found
Myself spinning around things I don’t know.
I’m leaping after birds up in the air
And tracking common scents into the ground,

Yet I have found
The one whose leash I share at every turn
Keeps telling me the things I ought to know
But giving me the time I need to learn.

    God is the man. I am the dog.
    I’m not the man I once thought I was.
    He seems so far away.
         I am the dog.

    Prayer is the leash. This is my prayer,
    Drawing me close to the man up there.
    I don’t have words to say.
         I am the dog.

    But I’ll stretch this leash from here to heaven,
    And sometimes I’ll think I know the way,
    But I’ll take the paths that I’ve been given
    And learn what I should say.

    God is the man, but I am the one
    Who walks with him when the day is done
    And with each breaking dawn.
         I am the dog.

Lately my mind has turned the metaphor
Of man and dog, the leash and the routine
Upon its head. What can these verses mean
If I’m still learning what the walking’s for?

And can there even be a metaphor
Sufficient for the poetry I’ve seen
Along the way, when every step has been
Part of a song I’ve never sung before?

All the more,
I will walk, and in my walking sing,
And with my singing cherish the routine
And through routine embrace each metaphor

All the more,
Of God and man, of learning how to pray,
Of never understanding everything
About this life but walking anyway.

     And I’ll stretch this leash from here to heaven,
    And sometimes I’ll think I know the way,
    But I’ll take the paths that I’ve been given.
    I’m learning how to pray.

    Prayer is the leash. This is my prayer,
    Keeping me close to the man up there,
    And he’s not so far away.
         I am the dog.

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STARRY NIGHT

Vincent Van Gogh’s most famous Starry Night painting (1889) shows a wild sky with swirling, pyrotechnic stars that cast a blue-gray glow on the town below it. It must be late at night, as there are no house lights and no people. This is the Starry, Starry Night of Don McLean’s song Vincent, reflecting how the artist “suffered for [his] sanity.”

It is a powerful moment, but I prefer Van Gogh’s earlier astral painting: Starry Night over the Rhone (1888).  The night is calmer, the stars are more balanced and the city is still awake with its own lights; a river flows across the canvas and there are exactly two people on the riverside, standing together and inviting us to take it all in.

Years ago, when I was one of two people, we bought a copy of this painting for our living room. My other is no longer with me; she is somewhere else, suffering for her own sanity now, and my days with her are forever in the past, but I still like keeping that painting on my wall...

This poem also was written to its own tune at first, but I eventually put it, with some enhancements (italicized here), to the tune of Widow’s Grove by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan, from the album Orphans (2006).

Once again, three more songs follow: the aforementioned Starry Night, by Don McLean (1970); Pictures of You (listen to the words!), by The Cure (1989); and then back to some more Waits: Take It With Me, from Tom’s Mule Variations album (1999).


Starry Night, Revisited, by J. A. Vold
Enhanced by Widow’s Grove, by Tom Waits & Kathleen Brennan

The sky above, the earth below,
The city it stirs, the river it flows.
We walk at night that we may see
The stars and know we’re not alone,
 
That we may breathe a different air
And walk along a quiet shore,
Stand silent where the river laps
Up to our feet, wondering where 
We were before,

Refrain:
Oh, I followed you to the river
That washes out to the sea.
Between city lights and stars at night,
That's where I'll be.

The earth is black, the sky is blue.
The river bends a mirrored view
Of the evening glow of lights familiar,
Heaven down and shore to shore.
 
We meet the night. We take the time
To be together, you and I,
Across the river, in between
The city and a giant sky.

(Repeat Refrain)
 
We breathe the sky and feel the earth
And find our place beneath the stars,
Your arm in mine and mine in yours.
The world is right and the night is ours.

(Repeat Refrain)

Between city lights and stars at night,
That's where I'll be.