Song for Day 74 - "Santiago Dawn" by Bruce Cockburn

Songwriter Bruce Cockburn.

Day 74 - "Santiago Dawn" by Bruce Cockburn

      Bruce Cockburn wrote the hauntingly beautiful "Santiago Dawn" in September of 1983, ten years after the original 9/11 tragedy ended democracy in Chile for a generation.  Thousands were killed, including popular songwriter Víctor Jara and many desaparecidos whose bodies were dumped in the Mopocho River or the Pacific Ocean.  Poet Pablo Neruda spent his last few days watching the dismantling of everything he'd accomplished in his distinguished diplomatic career.  His funeral was a silent rallying point for the democratic resistance, inspiring DPK's elegy.  We remember what Victor Jara wrote on a piece of paper and hid in his shoe, hours before his murder:

Songwriter Víctor Jara.

 How hard it is to sing
when I must sing of horror.

...so many moments of infinity
in which silence and screams
are the end of my song.

    - Víctor Jara's last verse, from "Estadio Chile"

      In a 1988 plebiscite the country voted "No" to continuing the regime of U.S. puppet caudillo Augusto José Ramón Pinochet Ugarte.  Along with international pressure from governments, businesses and activists, political songs played a key role in the struggle for right to vote.

The (campaign) results were poor. In a few days nobody could ignore the evident technical superiority of the "No" campaign: superior in argumentation, superior in filming, superior in music. Its signature tune, with the slogan "La alegría ya viene" ("Joy is coming")  as its main element, was so cheesy that even the "Yes" campaign creatives hummed it during their brainstorming sessions.

— Sergio Fernández, Minister of the Interior

Henry Kissinger with Augusto Pinochet.

      America's situation is not quite as dire [yet].  Granted, dark forces control our statehouses, House, Senate and 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, while threatening the Supreme Court--our last bastion of common sense.  Nevertheless, the nation is experiencing a Santiago Dawn of its own, as represented by the unity of the Democratic Party.  We see it in the pairing of Bernie Sanders and Chuck Schumer, of Tom Perez and Keith Ellison.  We see it in the return of the Left in our media and discourse.  We see it in the polls.

      Will it last? 

      It must. 

      Else, we will disappear.

Lyrics:

Something moves in the still dark hours
Sunday in a shanty town
Eyelids open two by two
But not a single light goes on
 

Tension builds as the only sound
Is the quiet clash of metal and boots
And now and then an order barked
At the bullies in the drab green suits

Military thugs with their dogs and clubs
Spreading through the poblacion
Hunting whoever still has a voice
Sure that everyone will run

They come in strong but it's not that long
Before they know it's not so easy to leave
To keep a million homeless down takes more
Than a strong arm up your sleeve

At the crack of dawn the first door goes down
Snapped off a makeshift frame
In a matter of minutes the first rock flies
Barricades burst into flame

First mass rings through smoke and gas
Day flowers out of the night
Creatures of the dark in disarray
Fall before the morning light

Bells of rage -- bells of hope
As the ten-year night wears down
Sisters and brothers are coming home
To see the Santiago dawn

Santiago sunrise
See them marching home
See them rising like grass through cement
In the Santiago dawn

I got a dream and I'm not alone
Darkness dead and gone
All the people marching home
Kissing the rush of dawn

Santiago sunrise
See them marching home
See them rising like grass through cement
In the Santiago dawn

Song for Day 73 - "Call It Democracy" by Bruce Cockburn

Songwriter Bruce Cockburn.

Day 73 - "Call It Democracy" by Bruce Cockburn

      Like politics and life in general, music is all about transitions.  Watch the one in this song as "Call It Democracy" (from the 1986 "World of Wonders" CD) slides into "If I Had A Rocket Launcher" (from the 1984 album, "Stealing Fire").  This mini-performance may be the greatest lyrical and musical protest of our time.  "Call It Democracy" is a brilliant indictment of the status quo irrespective of its lapses into sloganeering, second only to Day 8's "Burn, [Baby, Burn]" by the same author.

Lyrics to "Call It Democracy":

Padded with power here they come
International loan sharks backed by the guns
Of market hungry military profiteers
Whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared
With the blood of the poor

Who rob life of its quality
Who render rage a necessity
By turning countries into labor camps
Modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom

Sinister cynical instrument
Who makes the gun into a sacrament
The only response to the deification
Of tyranny by so called "developed" nations'
Idolatry of ideology

North, south, east, And it west
Kill the best and buy the rest
It's just spend a buck to make a buck
You don't really give a flying fuck
About the people in misery

I-M-F dirty M-F
Takes away everything it can get
Always making certain that there's one thing left
Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt

See the paid off local bottom feeders
Passing themselves off as leaders
Kiss the ladies, shake hands with the fellows
And it's open for business like a cheap bordello

And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy

See the loaded eyes of the children too
Trying to make the best of it the way kids do
One day you're going to rise from your habitual feast
To find yourself staring down the throat of the beast
They call the revolution

I-M-F dirty M-F
Takes away everything it can get
Always making certain that there's one thing left
Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt

And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy


Lyrics to "If I Had A Rocket Launcher":

Here comes the helicopter -- second time today
Everybody scatters and hopes it goes away
How many kids they've murdered only God can say
If I had a rocket launcher...I'd make somebody pay

I don't believe in guarded borders and I don't believe in hate
I don't believe in generals or their stinking torture states
And when I talk with the survivors of things too sickening to relate
If I had a rocket launcher...I would retaliate

On the Rio Lacantun, one hundred thousand wait
To fall down from starvation -- or some less humane fate
Cry for guatemala, with a corpse in every gate
If I had a rocket launcher...I would not hesitate

I want to raise every voice -- at least I've got to try
Every time I think about it water rises to my eyes.
Situation desperate, echoes of the victims cry
If I had a rocket launcher...Some son of a bitch would die 




 

Song for Day 72 - "Joy Will Find A Way" by Bruce Cockburn

Songwriter Bruce Cockburn.

Day 72 - "Joy Will Find A Way" by Bruce Cockburn

      "Joy Will Find a Way" captures the paradoxical "New Orleans" spirit of this series:  optimistically funereal.  It is the second in a three-part series of Cockburn creations concerning our current predicament...and how we might hope to recover.

Lyrics:

Make me a bed of fond memories
Make me to lie down with a smile
Everything that rises afterward falls
But all that dies has first to live.
As longing becomes love
As night turns to day
Everything changes
Joy will find a way

     Speaking of optimism under bleak circumstances, let's ponder America's future.  Of course, with 2018 looming we should be talking about Congress and the states but let’s consider a more conventional tack.  With our General Manager (Tom Perez) and Head Coach (Keith Ellison) in place the successful franchise turns to its next quarterback.

      We have many worthy candidates who could win, especially with RepTealians setting the bar so low an arthritic centipede could clear it in street shoes, but why go with anyone less than our best?  Above the competence and integrity we expect from all Democratic candidates, let's say the ideal nominee would exhibit these characteristics:

1. Universal recognition;
2. no baggage;
3. professional grade speaking skills; and,
4. passion/strength.

     The first two are almost mutually exclusive.  How can someone in the political arena be a household name and iconic figure without having attracted millions of enemies?  Where can one develop and demonstrate rhetorical skills outside of politics and law?  How does one balance passion and strength without seeming flighty or threatening?  Who would score highest in trust, favorability and recognition among centrists and  left-leaners?  Who is the next Barack Obama?  Who has the dignity, equanimity, grace and humor to unite the Democratic Party as it has never been before? 

     Need any more hints?

     Guesses?

Links:

Resistance Song for Day 71 - "Fascist Architecture" by Bruce Cockburn

Resistance Song for Day 72 - "Joy Will Find A Way" by Bruce Cockburn

Song for Day 71 - "Fascist Architecture" by Bruce Cockburn

Songwriter Bruce Cockburn.

Day 71 - "Fascist Architecture" by Bruce Cockburn

I will fight the fascist here.
I will fight the fascist in Spain.
I will fight the fascist in China
and I will fight the fascist in me.
 - Dr. William Norman Bethune (1890-1939) 

    The title, "Fascist Architecture", makes us think of an anthem, full of cliché, bombast and pride.  In fact, Bruce Cockburn speaks of a far more personal power structure, one that each of us must overcome.  Its many manifestations include an urge to avoid conversation with those who don't entirely agree with our world view.  This "koan of silence" gave us 24/7 Red Don which, in turn, gave us Hair Backpfeifengesicht.  We have nothing to lose and everything to gain from engagement.

(If the sound on the video is poor, try this version instead.)

 

 Lyrics:

Fascist architecture of my own design
Too long been keeping my love confined
You tore me out of myself alive
Those fingers drawing out blood like sweat
While the magnificent facades crumble and burn
The billion facets of brilliant love
The billion facets of freedom turning in the light


Bloody nose and burning eyes
Raised in laughter to the skies
I've been in trouble but I'm ok
Been through the wringer but I'm ok
Walls are falling and I'm ok
Under the mercy and I'm ok
Gonna tell my old lady
Gonna tell my little girl
There isn't anything in the world
That can lock up my love again

 

 

 

Song for Day 56 - "Biko" by Peter Gabriel

Day 56 - "Biko" by Peter Gabriel

Confucius:   "They may crush cinnabar, yet they do not take away its color; one may burn a fragrant herb, yet it will not destroy the scent."

Songwriter Peter Gabriel.

      Conscientious and experienced officials are being demoted or discarded.  When asked to do the inappropriate, some have resigned, only to be replaced by far less scrupulous amateurs.  We need to develop innovative ways for government functionaries to oppose the unthinkable without going full-blown "Russia House".

      This being the 56th Day, the time has come to speak of Isoroku Takano.  His first name is Japanese for "56", his father's age when he was born.  Little Isoroku had the good fortune to be adopted by the influential Yamamoto family.  We know him as Admiral Yamamoto, the Harvard grad who implemented the attack on Pearl Harbor, despite being against the initiative. 

Isoroku Yamamoto at 26.

      Isoroku was dearly loved by one and all, including the Emperor.  As a junior officer, Yamamoto had been given another order he disliked.  Japan had more pilots than planes.  The "solution" to this "problem" (seriously, WTP?) was to cut down on the number of flyers by having them swim [coincidentally] Hiroshima Bay.  Yamamoto voiced his objections but was overruled by the powers that were.  Strict military protocol was not the only thing preventing Isoroku from giving these idiots the finger;  he'd lost his index and middle ones* in the Battle of Tsushima.

      On the day of the test there was a huge ceremony, after which the pilots lined up along the water's edge and dove into the bay on command.  When the last of them hit the water, Yamamoto surprised one and all by stripping down and joining them.  The entire general staff freaked.  Each knowing his ass was grass if anything happened to Hirohito's home-boy, they ran along the shoreline in their formal uniforms, ceremonial swords and knee-high boots, screaming obscenities, waving batons and ordering Yamamoto to GTF out of the water.  Puffing and wheezing, these septuagenarians were relieved when Isoroku made it to the other side.  They must have soiled their dress uniforms when they witnessed what happened next.  Not certain that he'd made his point with these incorrigible hacks, Isoroku climbed onto the rocks, stood up, saluted his superiors, and dove back into the ocean for a return trip.

      Need I add that there were no more "swimming tests"?

Beware the Ides of March!

      As for the rest of us, the arts have given us an equally inventive and effective way to oppose injustices of the past, present and future.  By definition, every masterpiece will survive the inequities it describes.  In addition to other media, we have music as a universal language.  We don't always need to flood social media with speeches.  We can post tunes and let the melodies and lyrics speak for themselves.  We don't need to speak of the First Amendment as an abstraction;  its reality can be made evident by playing protest songs, starting with those removed from our airwaves:  "Burn, Baby, Burn" (by Bruce Cockburn),  "Black Day in July" (by Gordon Lightfoot)  or "Requiem For The Masses" (The Association), to name a few.  There is no requirement to harangue less politicalized friends with heavy-handed rants. 

     Just play the damned song.

 Lyrics: "Biko" (1980)

September '77
Port Elizabeth weather fine
It was business as usual
In police room 619
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
-The man is dead

When I try to sleep at night
I can only dream in red
The outside world is black and white
With only one color dead
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
-The man is dead

You can blow out a candle
But you can't blow out a fire
Once the flames begin to catch
The wind will blow it higher
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
-The man is dead

And the eyes of the world are
watching now
watching now

* Yamamoto lost these fingers in his left hand;  he'd be saluting these prats with his right hand.

Resistance Song for Day 39 - "The Trouble With Normal" by Bruce Cockburn

Day 39 - "The Trouble With Normal" by Bruce Cockburn

Songwriter Bruce Cockburn.

     Yesterday we discussed one of the scarcest elements of partisan politics:   common sense.  Today we examine another:  normality.

     This series includes some of the most beautiful songs ever written.  This isn't a contender, even among Cockburn's offerings.  The lyrical pace is only a few beats slower than an auctioneer's, the melody has the same "range" as Trump's EEG and the music has the charm and nuance of a vuvuzela.  The "video" is a still picture of an album cover.  The text won't thrill prosodists but may work as a rant or as an object lesson.

      Viewed in the latter contexts, this is an interesting study in the dangers of normalization.  That which we accept, however reluctantly, will flourish.

Donald Trump's latest electroencephalogram.

      Every line in this song could serve as the title for an essay.  For example:

Person in the street shrugs -- "Security comes first!"

       ...could be countered by Benjamin Franklin's famous quote:

 "Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety."

Lyrics for Bruce Cockburn's "The Trouble With Normal" (1981)

Strikes across the frontier and strikes for higher wage
Planet lurches to the right as ideologies engage
Suddenly it's repression, moratorium on rights
What did they think the politics of panic would invite?
Person in the street shrugs -- "Security comes first"
But the trouble with normal is it always gets worse

Callous men in business costume speak computerese
Play pinball with the third world trying to keep it on its knees
Their single crop starvation plans put sugar in your tea
And the local third world's kept on reservations you don't see
"It'll all go back to normal if we put our nation first"
But the trouble with normal is it always gets worse

Fashionable fascism dominates the scene
When the ends don't meet it's easier to justify the means
Tenants get the dregs and the landlords get the cream
As the grinding devolution of the democratic dream
Brings us men in gas masks dancing while the shells burst
The trouble with normal is it always gets worse

 Index of Titles

Song for Day 31 of a 4 Year Funeral - "Pacing the Cage" by Bruce Cockburn

Day 31 - "Pacing the Cage" by Bruce Cockburn

     It is difficult to lose elections and have to wait for our next opportunity [in 2018].  Ideally, we raise funds, organize, protest and canvas, but time passes slowly.

     Bruce Cockburn's 1996 tune, "Pacing the Cage", captures this feeling perfectly.   The imagery here is startling.  This is Cockburn at his lyrical best.

Lyrics

Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what it's pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you've lived too long
Days drip slowly on the page
You catch yourself
Pacing the cage

I've proven who I am so many times
The magnetic strip's worn thin
And each time I was someone else
And every one was taken in
Hours chatter in high places
Stir up eddies in the dust of rage
Set me to pacing the cage

I never knew what you all wanted
So I gave you everything
All that I could pillage
All the spells that I could sing
It's as if the thing were written
In the constitution of the age
Sooner or later you'll wind up
Pacing the cage

Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage
Pacing the cage
Pacing the cage

Song for Day 12 of a 4 Year Funeral - "Cactus" by Ferron

Day 12 - "Cactus" by Ferron

Songwriter Deborah "Ferron" Foisy.

     A tree has fallen across the narrow road, blocking your progress.  Your first instinct is to:

a) look for a way to move it; or,

b) look for a way around it.

     Perhaps this songwriter should not be included in this series.  Ferron's work may be too personal and nuanced for us option "a)" activists;  she is very much a plan "b)" survivor.  Hers is a hyper-romantic solipsism-for-two that doesn't recognize a group larger than a lover's triangle, let alone the politics that might govern it. 

And the coldest bed I found does not hold one but it will hold three.
I hope you never have to know what that can mean.

     She doesn't speak of election day, but of every day.  Her focus is not the 54% who vote but the 46% who don't.  Her songs focus not on an optimistic future but on a poignant past that has brought us to an awkward present.  She doesn't write anthems, she writes narratives, more like Harry Chapin and Joni Mitchell than Bruce Cockburn and Buffy Ste. Marie.  Her songs are longer and less rhythmic than those by John Prine and Carly Simon.  Her verse is more like prose, new each time you hear it, than verbatim memorable poetry.  You will probably not sing Ferron songs in the shower.

"I read this book about how some scientists tried to get primates to paint. For 10 years they worked on it, and nothing happened. Then, one of the monkeys suddenly began to paint, and what it painted were the bars of its cage. So, in my writing, I believe I'm painting the bars of my cage so that I can get out. This is something you have to get done before you can meaningfully move on in any way." - Ferron

    Deborah "Ferron" Foisy rarely speaks directly about the sexual and physical abuse she suffered as a child and teen, but it's stitched into every line.  In the words of one critic, she lives and writes entirely in parentheses.  And somewhere there is humor.  We saw this on Day 2 with "Testimony".  We revisit it with "Shadows on a Dime", "Ain't Life a Brook?", "It Won't Take Long", "Girl on the Road", "I Never Was to Africa", "Our Purpose Here", "Harmless Love", the heart-wrenching, autobiographical "Shady Gate", and the visceral beauty of "The Cart".  Still, there is no better example of this than "Cactus":

Lyrics:

It's been a year
since you left home for higher ground.
In the distance I hear a hoot owl
ask the only question I have found
to be worthy of the sound it makes
as it breaks the silence of your old town
These letters are another way to love you.

It takes trouble, and it takes courage to be free.
But you 'll find, it you are soft enough, love will hang around for free.
And the coldest bed I found does not hold one but it will hold three.
I hope you never have to know what that can mean.

It's safe to say I took the long and winding path.
And were it not for loving friendships
who knows how long I would have lasted.
You're young one day but youth is rude
and while you watch it walks right past
and then...hey...you get your chance to think like me.

When I was young I was in service to my pain.
On sunny days you'd find me walking miles to look for rain.
And as many times I swapped it all just to hop a moving train.
Looking back, it was a most expensive way to get around.

And I found that all the world could love you save for one.
And I don't know why it is, but that kiss will be the haunted one.
You'll pine and weep and you'll lose good sleep
and you'll think your life has come undone,
until you learn to turn and spurn that bitter wind.

Because it'll probably be the one you least expect to,
who will wager through your storm with you,
who will give your fears respect...
who will melt your burden down...
though you probably don't want that yet,
still...the odds fall sweet in favor to an open heart.

Seems to me the tools for being human are wicked crude.
They're not so slick and smooth and shiny
as some stranger might allude.
And while your longest night might test you,
you don't be scared of solitude.
And remember what is shared is also true.

Because there's a place where the water races wide.
And you could be hard pressed (in the muck of time)
just trying to reach the other side.
You learn to find the only way, or you learn to say you tried.
It seems to me a lot of little towns were made that way.

Now while I'm at it...let me tell you about the moon.
Because I heard some people talking,
looks like we're probably going to have to move there soon.
All I know is the face it shows at midnight
is not the one it shows at noon.
But I bet it's a standing kind of wistful from over there.

In a word, I heard that life is a cactus tree.
And should you find a way to break it's skin,
won't you have a drink for me.
But if you're standing near a cactus,
you're probably where you shouldn't be.
Isn't this why you left your home, though you love me.

Now when I imagine life is only time and space...
then I guess I've seen the best of it upon your tender, loving face.
And the faith that you bestowed in me gives me a solid sense of place.

I learn to say...Fire, Water, Earth and Air...
I learn to say Fire, Water, Earth and Air...
I learn to say Fire, Water, Earth and Air...

I'll see you there.



Links:

Day 1 (The Inauguration) - "Hands" - Jewel

Day 2 (The Million Woman March) - "Testimony" by Ferron, sung by Marcelle Davies Lashley

Day 3 - "Ruins" - by Cat Stevens
 
Day 4 - "Eve of Destruction" (1964) - by P. F. Sloan performed by Barry McGuire

Day 5 - "Hypersensive Jester" - by Denny Guy

Day 6 - "Teresa" - by John Stewart

Day 7 - "Black Boys on Mopeds" by Sinéad O'Connor

Day 8 - "Burn, Baby, Burn" - by Bruce Cockburn

Day 9 - "Black Day in July" - by Gordon Lightfoot

Day 10 - "Democracy is Coming" - Leonard Cohen

Day 11 - "First We Take Manhattan" - Leonard Cohen

Day 12 - "Cactus" - Ferron

Song for Day 8 of a 4 Year Funeral

Day 8  - "Burn, Baby, Burn" - by Bruce Cockburn

     Some may be more familiar with Bruce Cockburn's other hits. among them:  "Lovers in a Dangerous Time", which was covered by the Barenaked Ladies, "Wondering Where the Lions Are", Tokyo , and, among his fellow Christians, "All the Diamonds".  A few hours on YouTube exploring Cockburn's work  should be enough to confirm his place among the world's greatest guitarist songwriters--especially political ones.

     "Burn", from Cockburn's 1975 album "Joy Will Find a Way", has become an anthem among progressives.  It was played on DailyKos discussion fora to celebrate wins by Democratic candidate Bernie Sanders.  For obvious reasons, "Burn" did not enjoy a long stay on U.S. radio, as it did elsewhere, but at least its exit wasn't as abrupt as tomorrow's protest song, by another Canadian folkie.

Lyrics:


Look away across the bay
Yankee gunboat come this way
Uncle Sam gonna save the day
Come tomorrow we all gonna pay...
And it's burn baby burn
When am I going to get my turn?
Something dead under the bed
Local diplomats hang their heads
Never mind what the government said
They're either lying or they've been misled...
And it's burn baby burn
When am I going to get my turn?
Phillipines was yesterday
Santiago and Greece today
How would they ever make the late news pay
If they didn't have the CIA?
And it's burn baby burn
When am I going to get my turn
Here it comes, the loaded gun
"Must keep the Commies on the run"
You'd buy or bury everyone
For liberty and life
And just plain fun
And it's burn baby burn
When am I going to get my turn?

Links:

Day 1 (The Inauguration) - "Hands" - Jewel

Day 2 (The Million Woman March) - "Testimony" by Ferron, sung by Marcelle Davies Lashley

Day 3 - "Ruins" - by Cat Stevens
 
Day 4 - "Eve of Destruction" (1964) - by P. F. Sloan performed by Barry McGuire

Day 5 - "Hypersensive Jester" - by Denny Guy

Day 6 - "Teresa" - by John Stewart

Day 7 - "Black Boys on Mopeds" by Sinéad O'Connor

Day 8 - "Burn, Baby, Burn" - by Bruce Cockburn

Day 9 - "Black Day in July" - by Gordon Lightfoot

Day 10 - "Democracy is Coming" - Leonard Cohen