The Friday Fix

Author: inertus

  • ‘Sunshine on Leith’ – The Proclaimers

    Gill writes:

    I’ve been meaning to write a Fix about a song from The Proclaimers for quite a while, but I was spurred into action by a little snippet of news the other day. That snippet was the fact that the official ‘King’s Coronation Playlist’ had originally included a song from the duo but there had been complaints because of their anti-monarchy stance, so it was withdrawn from the playlist.

    I’m sure Charlie and Craig (The Proclaimers) probably don’t care a jot as to whether they were included or not. Newswise, it was just a storm in an espresso cup but for some of us, it grated a little bit – perhaps because it feels a bit symbolic of our times. There appears to be a rise in intolerance of views and actions that might ‘rock the boat’ or that question the system. Wouldn’t a King’s playlist that included musicians with differing views be an example of how to embrace difference?

    It seems ironic, really, that the reason why I chose to reflect on this week’s song is because of The Proclaimers’ ability to write songs that bring people together. So anyway…

    If you’ve ever had the opportunity to see The Proclaimers perform live, you’ll know that this song really takes on a life of its own. This song, and ‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’, are when the crowd really takes over in the singing stakes. And something curious also takes place. The whole crowd develops a Scottish accent. It really does. Try singing this song without pronouncing ‘worth’, ‘earth’ and ‘you’ with a strong Scottish brogue – and you’ll see what I mean.

    We’ve covered the unifying elements that music and lyrics can bring in previous Fixes before. The power, passion and healing that collective singing can bring is remarkable. It can gather together people from vastly different backgrounds and create a connecting point that transcends any barriers. Music really can be the catalyst for peace and solidarity.

    In my humble opinion, it is songs about love that offer a great opportunity to tap into emotions and understanding that most of us can relate to. The simplistic narrative of this song takes us on that complex journey from a broken heart, upset, or trauma:

    My heart was broken
    My heart was broken
    Sorrow, sorrow
    Sorrow, sorrow

    And it starts to reveal the effect that the power of love can have…

    My heart was broken
    My heart was broken
    You saw it, you claimed it
    You touched it, you saved it

    My tears are drying
    My tears are drying
    Thank you, thank you
    Thank you, thank you

    My tears are drying
    My tears are drying
    Your beauty and kindness
    Made tears clear my blindness

    This doesn’t mean that everything is sorted and life is all hunky-dory; it means that you are not on your own. That someone- a friend, family member, partner, carer, God – is with you and helping you to see the way ahead. It may still be bumpy, but a bumpy ride with a passenger is way better than one travelled on your own.

    The beauty of this song is that it encapsulates more than the romantic love that many ‘love songs’ allude to. It’s inclusive, not exclusive. It can be about anybody or anywhere that has touched your heart and enabled you to glimpse hope; that the beauty of people (or places) and kindness shown to you can clear my blindness.

    And then the song climbs to that gentle crescendo which just requires a good bellow from the top of your lungs. There’s a sense of relief and release, of humility, of recognising that we’re of worth, and of accepting that life is a gift.

    While I’m worth
    My room on this Earth
    I will be with you

    And that gift of life comes from something much bigger than us. Love, Lifeforce, God, Chief – however you want to understand it. We’re gifted precious time in a wonderful world alongside some incredible human beings (and lots of other beings too!) and it’s not us that has control over that.

    Some of my ‘most favourite lyrics ever’ lie within this song and capture a sense of divine intervention in a musical nutshell –

    While the Chief puts sunshine on Leith

    and goes on to a great little prayer of thanksgiving

    I’ll thank Him
    For His work
    And your birth
    And my birth
    Yeah, yeah, yeah

    Of course, those of us who have ever lived on the east coast, like those who live in Leith, will know that sunshine can often be smothered by a cold, dank and gloomy sea fret. There’s many a time when I have driven back to a home close to the North Sea and thought “It’s a lovely warm evening here in Lincoln/Morpeth – I can sit out when I get home,” only to be welcomed by a major drop in temperature and misty cloud which scuppered any such plans.

    Maybe that’s a good analogy about life sometimes – spiritual and otherwise. The sun is always there – sometimes you can see, feel and enjoy the benefits of it, and sometimes others are enjoying the benefits whilst you are enveloped in a cold fog (and vice versa). The sun is always there, behind the fog – trying to break through. The fog may persist for longer than you want it to but it will eventually lift, and at least for a few minutes you’re more appreciative than usual of that lovely sunshine.

    A couple of years ago, our family of three had been on a bit of a ‘bumpy ride’ together and we decided on a fairly spontaneous short break to the Cairngorms to help reset. We arrived in Edinburgh around 0900 to break the journey and walked up Arthur’s Seat to stretch our legs. It was pretty dull weather, with a chill in the air as we set off, but as we neared the summit, the sun broke through and as you looked down, you could see the sun shining on Leith. It brought a smile to our lips, a tingle down the spine, and a sense that everything was going to be alright.

    And for the rest of that day (as it is for other challenging days), this song was all that I needed to hear (and sing).

    I took a photo of The Chief shining sunshine on Leith!

    The Proclaimers are still performing and you can find out more here – https://the.proclaimers.co.uk/

  • ‘Last Words’ – GoGo Penguin

    Tom writes:

    My experience of depression is that it plays havoc with my memory. It especially causes you to replay bad memories, and tries to tell you that these are the only memories important to understanding your place in the world – like a vinyl record or CD that’s been scratched and keeps playing a particular phrase on repeat. It helps, therefore, to have memories that you can bring to the forefront of your mind that can, somehow or other, overlay or push aside the worst with, if not the best then, at least, better.

    As you might guess, for me those positive memories are almost always innately linked with a soundtrack of some kind or another, and none so more than the one attached to Mancunian modern jazz trio GoGo Penguin’s ‘Last Words’:

    It was the middle summer of my probation as a presbyter and the Black Dog was as large and overpowering as I have ever known him. My head was so firmly in the grip of his fearsome jaws that I was signed off by my doctor. I was exhausted by his company but could not rid myself of him. And so I lay on my bed, unfeeling and uncaring. On the stereo was the debut album of a jazz group I’d heard about on the radio a few weeks earlier. I wasn’t deliberately listening, it was just noise, something in the background to avoid silence that would inevitably leave my canine companion growling in my head.

    Then on came the track “Last Words”. I found myself drawn from my bed, energised and compelled to dance around the bedroom, the landing, the other rooms around our first floor. Not dancing in any sensible or ordered fashion. Just free and joyful. And I can give no explanation to this other than the Holy Spirit. In that moment I was joyful and danced before the Lord and knew that God was with me. As the music ended Black Dog overwhelmed me again, and I returned to my bed, the covers wound tightly around me, an emptiness and numbness once again returning to consume me.

    Yet now I knew. Now I knew that even in that deep pit God was somehow there, even when I could not see, or hear, or feel any indication that this was so. The band’s video for the song makes clear that the themes of the piece (there are no words) are indeed those of endings, departures, and the saying of goodbye – themes that depression also frequently brings to the forefront of one’s thoughts. However, in this piece I found hope, and joy, and peace, and love, and something to hold onto, to drag to the forefront of my mind whenever the beast that haunts me once again grows to the size of a Baskervillian hound and threatens to consume me.

    I have no expectation that my offering of this memory, and in particular this piece of music, will somehow lead to everyone finding God’s presence in this one instrumental – or indeed in music at all. I offer it only to affirm this – that God is present, even when we cannot see, or hear, or feel, and that such presence may well make itself known, even temporarily, in the most surprising of moments, by the most surprising of ways.

  • ‘Better Times Will Come’ – Janis Ian

    Jane writes:

    I love a bit of Janis Ian. Her timeless qualities and her writing that seems relevant for all the moments in her life (and ours) means that she always has something to say. I mean just look at “At Seventeen” from way back in 1976 as an example for any anxiety-ridden teenage girl.

    This song is one that was penned in 2020. She has spent a lot of time encouraging people to record it for themselves and in as many ways as possible to spread the message. You might find all sorts of versions.

    It seems to carry a spirit of eternal optimism

    Better times, better times will come. Better times, better times will come

    We will dance, we will sing in that never-ending spring

    But it comes with a kind of list of caveats and ideas that are needed to make that so

    When this world learns to live as one

    When we greet each dawn without fear

    And when the winds of war cannot blow anymore

    In the kind of world we’re facing at the moment I’m not sure Janis’s optimism seems very real. I’m also not convinced that as a society we can do as required to make better times a reality. Are we willing to make the choices needed? How much of it is in our gift anyway? Living alongside each other harmoniously, stopping war, and generally living a fear-free existence because of those two things being in place. It takes effort.

    Yet as we come to that part of the church year when we see Easter on the horizon I wondered how much resonance there was with the sense of hopelessness of those first disciples after the death of Jesus. I wonder if the messages of loving our neighbour are the ones we need to hear again? I wonder if the spirit of the early church, which encompassed sharing and caring for each other and those less fortunate with no support network, was embraced again now the better times may feel more real.

    This Lent and Eastertide it seems then it’s worth just picking up one task, offering one loving word, or one act of protest that might mean better times for everyone. Oh and don’t forget to have a sing as you go.

    Janis Ian and Neil Finn, who sings on this version, are both making music https://janisian.com/ https://www.neilfinn.com/

  • ‘Hear Your Voice’ – Danni Nicholls

    Lynne writes:

    “Being heard is so close to being loved that, for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.” (David W. Augsburger, Caring Enough to Hear and Be Heard)

    One drizzly morning in September 2019, sat in the ‘Honky Tonk’ venue on day two of The Long Road Festival, I had the great joy of discovering the wonderful Danni Nicholls and her beautiful music. It was a happy accident – my dad, sister and I had just attended the quiz event (we did not do well) and had nowhere in particular to be. So, because we had seats and it was miserable out, we stayed to see who would next take the stage. During Danni’s set, which largely featured her recently-released Melted Morning album, I found myself actually moved to tears, such was the power of the melody, lyrics and her gorgeous voice.

    For me a stand-out track (on that stand-out album) is the soulful empowerment song, Hear Your Voice. It was co-written with the equally awesome Kyshona Armstrong, in the wake of the ‘Me Too’ movement and inspired by personal experience (and their anger and frustration at the way some women’s stories are dismissed or silenced). Hear Your Voice is a call for women everywhere with a story to tell to ‘sing it out’ and a message that we need to work towards everyone feeling safe to do this.

    When you are ready to step into your power

    The bridges you’ll burn will light your way

    And when you are marching down that road

    Know that you are not alone

    When the curtain falls

    And the cast is bowed

    When the crowd is gone

    And the light fades out

    I wanna hear your voice

    Sing it out

    Whilst Hear Your Voice was written as a reaction to the marginalisation, abuse and manipulation of women, it is an effective call to allyship with oppressed and persecuted people everywhere.

    Listening is the first step in being an ally, it’s the best way to tackle loneliness and isolation, it demolishes shame and stigma. Listening – especially to someone who is used to being ignored and devalued – holds great power – and gives power where previously people felt they had none.

    I see the positive impact that listening can have in my work with young people who have grown too used to being dismissed as ‘trouble-makers’ or worse. Listening is the loving thing to do. It’s what Jesus did as he prioritised the powerless, drew people from the margins to the centre, and embodied a vision of shalom where everyone could flourish.

    Every time Jesus interacted with women, with the ‘unclean’, with those of low social standing, we see Jesus serving as an ally.

    As another woman I greatly respect, UK campaigner Gina Martin, says:

    “[W]hen it comes to people from different backgrounds, with different experiences and especially from marginalised communities, your job is not to talk, but to listen. Then help them get their voices and experiences heard. Pass the mic.” (Gina Martin, Be the Change)

    Find out more here: http://www.danninicholls.com

  • Easter Day Fix

    Having provided the Good Friday Fix, here’s a follow-up that can be used as an Easter Day Fix if you would like: https://spotify.link/h5OWQJIaRyb. Courtesy of Tom Osbourne.

  • Good Friday Playlist

    Tom writes:

    Good Friday. How does one offer thoughts and feelings through music that might be appropriate on this of all days? Well, on this occasion, by offering a playlist, not a single song, and by offering it as part of a possible reflective liturgy.

    Eight years ago, as a minister in Cornwall, I decided to try and offer a creative way into the Passion of Christ, and particularly the last sayings of Jesus on the cross. What eventually came into being was a service called, ‘Outro’. Its structure was simple – an opening and a closing prayer, bookending a repeating sequence of a scripture passage followed by a piece of popular music. Seven times repeated, in fact – one for each of the last sayings.

    I’ve reflected on that worship experience a great deal since, including a published article (https://www.wesley.cam.ac.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/09-osborne.pdf), and even for a while ran a regular service at one of my churches in Essex, using the same pattern to reflect on a variety of themes (we called it ‘Ink-R-n8’). I know that while it may not work for all, it certainly works for some, including those who might not initially expect it to – one congregation member for Outro came most unwillingly, yet expressed to me afterwards how very glad they were they had.

    So now I offer it here, in a rather different setting. I offer the following as a way of engaging:

    – Find a Bible and mark the seven readings.

    – Sit in a comfortable space – maybe a regular prayer seat, maybe somewhere outside, wherever, just make sure you’re comfortable, with access to your Bible and the playlist.

    – Start by offering a quiet prayer to God – that you would know God’s presence, and that you would be enabled to hear God speak, through the words of scripture, the lyrics of the songs, the feelings the music might evoke.

    – Read the first reading. Do so slowly. Perhaps do so out loud.

    – Pause.

    – Play the first track on the playlist.

    – Pause.

    – Read the next reading.

    – Pause.

    – Play the next track.

    – Repeat the above four steps until you reach the end of the readings and songs.

    – Pause.

    – Finish by offering a further prayer to God. Offer to God all that you have experienced in the reading and listening, and ask that God would enable you to carry those experiences with you as you journey through Good Friday and Holy Saturday to Easter Day – and beyond!

  • The ‘Good Friday Fix’

    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

    The Friday Fix on Good Friday usually tries to somehow reflect the sentiment of the day.

    This year, we will be sharing a playlist that has been curated by Tom Osbourne. The playlist will help you to contemplate the Passion of Christ by listening to and reflecting on seven songs that relate to the final words spoken by Jesus.

    The Fix will drop a little earlier than usual – at 0900 – so that you might have the time and space to prepare and listen to the playlist as it suits you.

  • ‘Forwards’ –  The Alarm 

    Jane writes:

    The Alarm were a band of my youth. A band that the people I hung round with loved and played a lot! A band that seemed to have something to say, and often with a faith bias.

    Their album Strength was a must-play and the memories that went alongside – beloved t-shirts, unexpected turns at Greenbelt, sweaty gigs in that sweatbox known as ‘The Hummingbird’ in Brum – are all indelibly inked on my soul.  This was 1985 or thereabouts and as you can tell, it’s a while ago now.

    Imagine my joy then when I heard a familiar kind of sound on my release radar playlist. Could it really be them. Well, yes it was!

    A new single from a new album due for release this summer

    ‘Forwards’ was the cry and already the rallying style of this band was evident once again

    Whoooaaa Whoooaa

    I’m certain that they have been making music over the years but my own encounters with them have been through retrospective tours and Mike Peters, their lead singer, reliving those glory days. This though felt a fresh reminder of where music could take you.

    Mike has been unwell with leukemia for many years and last autumn was no different to that. Even now though, he looks forward to helping others through creating a new wellness space alongside creating new music

    Living for today. Trying to find a way forwards

    On and on and on

    Illness, grief or patches of immense despondency can lead us to get lost. People express often a sense of stasis when nothing seems to move and treading the water seems an effort.  Life running in slow motion.  This can often be true of society too.

    My life is out there somewhere

    I’ve been crawling through the wreckage trying to get myself back home to you

    …..I’ve been searching for the way

    I have no way of knowing of course, whether this is a rediscovery of self, the truth of faith or a desire for a better world. It is, though, clearly about working out what comes next.

    As people of faith we believe that God is part of that equation. Jesus declares “I am the Way”. If we can do one thing today, we may want to give a little thought to what the future holds for us – “The way forwards” – and give a heartfelt nod of thanks to those who stir us up like The Alarm. Play it loud and search for the way at the top of your lungs!

    The Alarm are obviously still making new music  https://thealarm.com/

  • ‘Into Temptation’ – Crowded House

    Mandy writes:

    After writing ‘Into Temptation’, Neil Finn (the lead singer of Crowded House) found himself in an awkward situation.

    He wrote so convincingly about the lure of a woman in a new blue dress that his wife Sharon thought he was having an affair and he had to work hard to convince her that the song was not in fact, based on his own infidelity.

    It was actually inspired by an experience in a motel in New Zealand where Finn observed a men’s rugby team partying with a women’s netball team. Back in his room, he thought he heard a knock at his door, but when he looked out he realised a woman was going into the room of the rugby player next door.

    And so the song begins…an exploration of that split second between anticipation and decision, possibility and reality, lust and regret.

    Humanity is displayed in full force in this song. Being with the woman in the new blue dress can’t do any harm…can it? After all “a muddle of nervous words, could never amount to betrayal”

    There is a moment that perfectly sums up the fleeting promise of a glance:

    “As I turned to go, you looked at me for half a second. With an open invitation, for me to go into temptation”

    Temptation can be a slow-burning thing but sometimes it is that split second, that look, that glance, a tiny thing which can charge the atmosphere and change the course of an evening, of a life.

    Finn, who had a Catholic upbringing, also explores the nature of regret and guilt. Again, his songwriting goes right to the heart of human experience:

    “The guilty get no sleep, in the last slow hours of morning.

    Experience is cheap – I should have listened to the warning.

    But the cradle is soft and warm….”

    The world tips on its axis, burdened by guilt and there is no redemption to lighten the mood at the end.

    In a sense this song could be described as a classic cautionary tale – don’t do this, kids – don’t give in to the temptations around you, otherwise things will go badly wrong.

    It rests in perfect contrast to the abilities of Jesus to resist the temptations put before him by the devil during his wilderness experience, often explored in Lent.

    So why does it work? It expresses the fallibility of humanity, the capacity that we all have to make a split second decision that could be amazing or catastrophic. Neil Finn invites us into that split second and challenges us to reflect on what temptation means for each one of us.

    Find out what Crowded House are up to at https://www.crowdedhouse.com/