“Eternal Flame” is another song that came into my head from out of nowhere. It just started playing in my mind on its own. I remembered the song, but I had never heard of (or don’t remember) an all-girl band called The Bangles. The group was popular in the 1980s. Susanna Hoff, their lead singer, wrote Eternal Flame with songwriters Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly. The idea came from a Cyndi Lauper song Hoff admired, and from the eternal flame shrine near the Elvis Presley tomb in Graceland, where The Bangles saw it.
I still don’t know why “Eternal Flame” barged unannounced into my head, but I’m glad it did. The song is BEAUTIFUL! Here’s my cover.
When Richard Marx wrote “Right Here Waiting,” he never meant to publish it. He wrote the song in 2010 as a personal message to his girlfriend and actress, Cynthia Rhoads. At the time, Rhoads was in South Africa making a film. Since Skype or Google Meets didn’t exist, Marx shipped the track directly to Rhoads. Marx wrote the song in twenty minutes. His friends were so moved by it that they convinced the artist to publish it. The song went on to become one of Marx’s biggest hits.
Prior to this blog post, I had never heard of Richard Marx. I was only vaguely aware of the song. When I heard the beginning of the song on a Facebook reel, I was inspired to learn it. Now that I’ve read the backstory, I agree with Marx’s friends. “Right Here Waiting” is a truly moving and beautiful ode to long-distance love. Marx plays a piano accompaniment. I’ve composed a guitar background. Here’s my cover.
Graham Nash of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young wrote: “Teach Your Children.” The song appears on the group’s album, Deja Vue. The lyrics pertain to the difficult relationship Nash had with his father, who spent time in prison. Nash has talked about songwriting in these terms: “The idea is that you write something so personal that every single person on the planet can relate to it. Once it’s there, it unfolds outward, so that it applies to almost any situation.”
In another quote, Nash says, “When I wrote ‘Teach Your Children,’ we didn’t know what we were doing. It was like: ‘This sounds pretty fun. We can sing this! Let’s do it!’ And then, all of a sudden, people are singing it back to me forty years later.”
Graham Nash is a photographer as well as a great musician and songwriter. Soon after writing “Teach Your Children,” Nash visited an art gallery and saw two photographs hung side by side. The photographs clarified the meaning of the song for Nash. One photo, by Diane Arbus, is titled “Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park.” The other is Arnold Newman’s portrait of German industrialist Alfried Krupp, the man who manufactured arms for World Wars I and II.
In a Songfacts interview, Nash told this story about the two photos: “I have never told any gallery owner how to hang my images. They know their space way better than me, and I’m always curious as to how they put images together. And in this particular show, the gallery put these two photos together. The photos made me realize that if we didn’t teach our children a better way of dealing with our fellow human beings, we were fucked. Humanity was in great danger.”
Now, this is me talking. I often feel that art comes from somewhere else. Let’s call it “The Great Beyond.” To me, a serious artist is a channeler of messages from The Beyond through the prism of his or her experiences and personality. These messages want to come through and be heard by a large audience. “Teach Your Children” is a good illustration of this idea. Here’s my cover.
In this life, change is constant. This is not news to most of us. However, some things never change. A good example is the music of the artist profiled in this post. In 1977, after years of contemplation and a near-death experience with tuberculosis, Cat Stevens converted to Islam and radically changed his lifestyle. He is now known as Jusuf Islam, but the beauty and truth of his music haven’t changed. Jusuf’s songs have endured and are still relevant almost fifty years after they were released. His unique guitar style and vocalizations have remained bright, new, and refreshing through the intervening decades.
“On The Road To Find Out” is a song about a young man who sets out on a journey to clear his mind and see what he can discover. The song parallels Stevens’ life experiences. After a seven-month recovery from tuberculosis, Stevens felt a deep emptiness in his life and a yearning for something more. Out of these ashes, “On the Road to Find Out” was born. The lyrics are not about traveling in a physical sense. They are about Stevens discovering who he was and the purpose, if any, of his existence. Stevens achieved fame and fortune in 1967 at the age of only eighteen when his first three singles hit the charts in his native England. Like many of his recording artist peers, Stevens examined his noteworthy accomplishments and found they had not brought him the peace of mind or happiness he envisioned.
Many of Stevens’ songs reflect his quest for existential answers and a deep sense of fulfillment. I can only hope he found it.
Here’s my cover of this song’s rich lyrics and beautiful melody.
Eva Cassidy is a perennial favorite of mine. When I saw a “Songbird” tutorial pop up on Jerry’s Guitar Bar, I couldn’t resist. Here’s my cover of Eva’s beautiful song.
I always thought Phil Ochs was your basic regular-guy-folk-music icon until reading a few articles about the man. I’ve learned that Phil Ochs was anything but regular.
As a boy, Ochs enjoyed going to the movies. His favorite heroes were James Dean and John Wayne. Always a dreamer, Ochs fantasized about becoming a stoic cowboy like John Wayne, a teenage rebel like James Dean, or a rockabilly sex symbol like Elvis Presley. He took his early love of Hollywood to New York where he became one of the most celebrated folk singers in the world. He surfaced in Greenwich Village where he wrote songs so profusely that friendly rival Bob Dylan complained that he couldn’t keep up with him. At the same time, Ochs became a social activist leading protests against the Vietnam War with songs like “I Ain’t Marchin’ Anymore.”
Recognition came too late for Phil Ochs. He suffered from undiagnosed and untreated bipolar disorder. Ochs committed suicide in 1976 thinking himself a failure.
His song “Changes” is a soft philosophical ballad exploring the transient nature of human life. Everything changes, including our relationships, the seasons, our ages, and our circumstances. Through it all, Ochs believed we have an obligation to make a meaningful contribution to life. Ochs left behind his beautiful music and deeply held beliefs.
Heart Banter by David Gittlin 