Beyond the Notes | 05
In a world where promises are broken, often from the top down, it is easy to understand why so many of us seek firmer foundations elsewhere; a never-ending quest to discover what really matters.
In this series, I share some of the pieces of music which have meant the most to me in my life, and the stories behind why they resonate so strongly within a life lived slowly and simply.
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I often fail to remember where I come across songs. Perhaps they come to me? They are frequently found from the most unlikeliest of sources, and it is, perhaps, in the unexplainable, that beauty is found. There can be few artists these days who could get away with releasing tracks more than a few minutes long. Our attention spans are far too short, our playlists eager to shuffle us to the next track, just we, ourselves, are eager to hurry on.
Bridget St John’s 1969 track, As Me No Questions comes in at just short of eight minutes, the closing track of six on the B-side of her debut album of the same year. It’s a rarity now, original copies sell second-hand for between £50 and £100. She was the first artist to be signed to John Peel’s Dandelion label, and over 50 years on, not far short of her 80th year, she’s still performing and recording.
Its raw music: voice and guitar; simplicity at its finest. In recent years, the album has been re-released, both on CD and vinyl, and of course, it’s available to stream. This genre of music, folk or folk-rock if we were to give it a label, seems to be seeing something of a resurgence. Perhaps in our quest for a slower and simpler approach to life, songs like this sit comfortably. If we spent the 80s and 90s imprinting every ounce of electronic wizardry into our music, perhaps we now see the value in the stripped back.
‘Gentle’, ‘sleepy’, and ‘lazy’ are all lyrics which appear in the track, apt words to describe the music itself.
Take nothing with you
I'll give you everything I can have no fear
For if you stumble
Or should you fall down on the way
I'll be there
These lyrics offer more than a passing nod to Psalm 23, but in an age where perhaps, too often, we fail to ask questions, they challenge us. Who will be there for us when we stumble; who will help us up when we fall down on our journeys? Who will dry those tears which will inevitably come. When all is said and done, life is but a fleeting moment; we bring nothing into the world, and we take nothing away. In a world where promises are frequently broken, often from the top down, it is easy to understand why so many of us seek firmer foundations elsewhere. We find ourselves on a never-ending quest to discover what really matters.
I was walking into town in the week, and at the very moment I wondered what time it was, the cathedral bells chimed a quarter to eleven, just as they have done for centuries. Listen far enough to this track, and you too may hear the distant sound of bells, muffled beneath birdsong, the music of the English countryside. This song isn’t just about human music, but nature’s music too. It’s a song to get lost in, just as we seek to lose ourselves in the great outdoors. Eight minutes seems hardly enough, a moment, yet a lifetime.
As we all learn to navigate the turbulent world in which we live, we have to ask difficult questions, both of ourselves, and of others. But we also have to learn to be, to accept, and to find peace, a state where, if only for a brief second, there are no questions to be asked, and no questions to be answered.
Close your eyes, my love
Close your eyes, gently, come
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I didn't know of her music, but it is a very lovely discovery. Thank you for bringing it out way.