Jackson Browne has always been a brilliant lyricist, singer, guitarist, and songwriter. I have enjoyed playing many of his songs on this blog. All of them are my favorites, and “Enough of the Night” is no exception.
Written when he was turning forty, Browne originally thought he was writing about someone else, until he realized that “Enough of the Night” was about himself. He had grown tired of a destructive lifestyle that mostly involved drugs (Cocaine). He decided the time had come for a change, and Browne writes about it poignantly in his lyrics. Listen closely, and you’ll see what I mean. “Enough of the Night” is also reminiscent of Jackson’s sister, but that’s another story entirely.
Many of Yusuf/Cat Stevens’ songs convey underlying messages about childhood and the relationships between children and adults, such as ‘Father & Son’ and ‘Oh Very Young,’ to name a few. “Where Do the Children Play?” is no exception. It becomes increasingly timely with each passing day, given the environmental crisis we are facing.
The song refers to the destruction of natural spaces caused by overdevelopment and industrialization. It asks a fundamental question: What future awaits our children when the spaces where they play are increasingly paved over and polluted?
“Where Do The Children Play” prompts us to consider the inherent features of the ‘progress’ we are making, as well as Humanity’s impact on planet Earth. Essentially, this beautiful and simple song begs for a balanced relationship between Human Beings and nature.
Typical of a Cat Stevens song, the rhythm is quite unique. Here’s my cover.
Jackson Browne’s guitar techniques, lyrics, and melodies stand apart from the crowd. What he says through his music is sometimes searing, sad, and occasionally, happy. However, all of Browne’s songs have something in common: an incredible sensitivity and beauty.
Browne wrote “These Days” when he was only sixteen years old. Despite his youth, Browne demonstrated a keen sense of heartbreak. I’m not sure how a sixteen-year-old could feel the depth of emotion and remorse expressed in this song. If we assume Jackson experienced and gave voice to the words and tone of “These Days,” then he was wise beyond his years and deeply rooted in himself from early on.
The song had its first release when a protégé of Andy Warhol named Nico picked it up on her “Chelsea Girl” album. Brown played acoustic guitar in the background. “These Days” gained wider recognition when several artists subsequently covered it.
Brown eventually released his version of the song in 1973 on the album “For Everyman.” He rewrote “These Days” to make it more optimistic. In his own words, Jackson remembers, “Over the rest of my teenage years and into my 20s, I developed a kind of optimism, a kind of resoluteness, so I changed [one verse] to: ‘I’ll keep on moving, keep improving.’ That’s more to me what life is made of, the idea that I’ll get through this, I’ll continue looking.”
I’ve always wanted to play this song the way Jackson Browne does. Thanks to my friend Jerry Lambert, I can now do it. Here’s my cover.
“Pluck” is the word that comes to mind when I think of Nanci Griffith and her music. In terms of stature, Nanci can be described as diminutive, or perhaps petite is a better, if overused, description. Ironically, the essence of Nanci Griffith is anything but small. She imbued her songs with a crystal clear, powerful voice and confident stage presence. In her simple way, Griffith is remembered as a giant among country and folk singer/songwriters. With twenty-four albums released from 1978 to 2002, Griffith has left a lasting impression on an art form she once described as “folkabilly.” Nanci’s music merges the elegant folk of her early years with the folk-rock of her later years.
I’ve covered many of Nanci’s songs on this blog, including this latest, “Trouble In The Fields.” It’s a penetrating and beautiful song inspired by Griffith’s recollections of her great-grandparents’ struggles with drought and hard economic times during the 1930s. “Trouble In The Fields” is dedicated to Nanci’s great aunt and uncle, Nettie Mae and Tootie, farmers for eighty years near Lubbock, Texas.
Cat Stevens’ song “The Boy With A Moon And Star On His Head” is a poetic and mystical tale that expresses themes of love, destiny, and the unknown and unexpected.
The song’s lyrics are replete with metaphors and symbolism, for example, the “holy magnolia” and “naked earth,” which elicit a sense of purity and connection to the universe. Cat Stevens, known for his introspective and spiritual songwriting, uses this narrative to convey a deeper message about the power of love and the unpredictable ways in which destiny unfolds. It is a beautiful story in song, rendered in Stevens’ unique style. Here’s my cover.
Ian Tyson began making a living as a rodeo rider. After breaking an ankle in a spill, Tyson began playing the guitar. As things turned out, rodeo riding was not to be his destiny. Tyson went on to become a famous Canadian folksinger and songwriter. After spending an evening with Bob Dylan, Ian wrote his first song, namely “Four Strong Winds.” It is widely recognized as one of the best folk songs ever written.
While singing in clubs and on college campuses, Tyson met Sylvia Fricker. The duo began singing together and eventually became known throughout North America as Ian & Sylvia. After some time on the road, the duo decided to go to New York to seek a manager and a record label. They succeeded. Vanguard Records released their first album titled “Ian and Silvia” in 1962. The couple married three years later. Ian & Silvia, along with Gordon Lightfoot, are the most popular folk and pop recording artists to emerge from Canada.
“Four Strong Winds” is another song about lost love, but I find great beauty in the words and the melody. I hope you can too. The song is usually strummed, but I’m using a finger-picking method. Here’s my cover.
“I live for a sense of a feeling of purposefulness in this world, you know, that I could stop my life at any point and feel that my life has been worthwhile; that the people I’ve loved and my children have all reached a point where their lives are now going to come to fruition. And as far as something I live by, it’s to try to be as alive as possible and feel free to make my mistakes and try to be as honest as I can with myself.”
Kate Wolf–Singer Songwriter–1942-1986
Perhaps Kate Wolf had these thoughts in mind when she wrote the song “Unfinished Life.” It’s a haunting ballade filled with hard-won wisdom, exquisite beauty, grace, and focused determination. The song is also ironically prophetic. Kate Wolf died tragically of Leukemia at the age of forty-four. Despite her abbreviated lifespan, she wrote over two hundred songs and performed them at venues in her native state of California and around the world. Kate’s life was, indeed, unfinished, but she left behind a treasure trove of beautiful music.
I first recorded “Unfinished Life” using a free-form guitar strumming method. Recently, while driving in my car, I listened to the song with a different pair of ears. I noticed the unique and highly effective guitar-picking technique Kate used to express the words and melody of the song. After some trial and error, I’ve come up with a version that approximates Kate’s recording.
“The future is not some place we are going, but one we are creating. The paths are not to be found but made. And the activity of making them changes both the maker and the destination.”