The Friday Fix

Author: inertus

  • ‘Woodstock’ by Joni Mitchell

    For years on this Friday (the one that comes just before Bank Holiday), I have found myself on the way to a small, but perfectly formed, Folk Festival up in the Cumbrian hills.

    The closer you get, the more people you see going in the same direction with roofracks or stuffed back seats ready for camping and musical happiness.

    I guess we are all off with a similar intent. To listen to great artists. To dwell in the fabulous countryside. To risk the vagaries of weather – bright sunshine, torrential rain and once even a frozen tent!!!!!. To read. To feast. To be.

    Oh how I miss it. How I miss even the thought of it. Oh how I miss the festival season lying ahead -a summer started by my beloved “Ireby” but also the kind of summers littered with “Underneath the Stars” “Folk by the Oak” “Cropredy” “Greenbelt” “Beautiful Days” “Shrewsbury” and more.

    The folk on their way to Woodstock in 1969, I’m sure, weren’t really that aware of what might happen and how that festival would revolutionise the lives of so many. The lyrics of this song, even in its first verse, seem to sum up what was needed and wanted in uncertain times. Times of war. Times of wanting to get back to nature. Times of seeking commonality through music and living simply.

    I came upon a child of God

    He was walking along the road

    And I asked him, where are you going

    And this he told me

    I’m going on down to Yasgur’s farm

    I’m going to join in a rock ‘n’ roll band

    I’m going to camp out on the land

    I’m going to try an’ get my soul free

    We are stardust

    We are golden

    And we’ve got to get ourselves

    Back to the garden

    This lockdown has seemingly stolen from me much of what I love and find life-giving. If I had a “lament tent” believe me I’d be raging at God about that. Raging at the loss of community. Raging at the loss of freedom to pitch my tent. Raging at the clamping down on my freedom to go to the lakes or anywhere for that matter. Raging about not feeling the music in my ribcage and singing as loud as possible alongside another soul.

    However lockdown hasn’t really stolen music, a constant accompaniment on my daily compulsory exercise and my lunchtime garden sitting. Lockdown hasn’t stolen my landscape, with even watching the moonrise on the motorway bridge near my house becoming a thing. Lockdown hasn’t stolen like-minded people sharing what matters. Lockdown hasn’t stolen my loud singing – I’m still annoying my ever-suffering neighbour Jo.

    So maybe God is saying to this Child of God it’s not just the festival Jane that gives you life but all these tiny component parts and you must learn to notice those again. Exploit them. Look for me within them and when you get to go again to these special community spaces you might go with fresh eyes, just like those first folk journeying to Woodstock.

    God is in all things and whether we like it or not God is around in this lockdown somehow so get your noticing head on and try to get your soul free.

    Cover versions of this track abound too including this one by Matthews Southern Comfort https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIHfuihoz70

    You can find out more about Joni Mitchell here – https://jonimitchell.com/

    Matthews Southern Comfort here through Iain Matthews’ website http://iainmatthews.nl/?page_id=2

  • ‘I hope I always’ – Nigel Stonier

    This week’s Friday Fix is from Rev. David Hardman who, like us, shares a joy in hearing the spiritual in secular music. He blogs at www.socalledsecular.org.

    David writes:

    This is a love song. A song that has a homely charm. It is not an epic piece of poetry loftily declaring undying affection, but a down to earth attempt to show commitment while recognising the frailties, and the ability to mess up relationships, that are in us all. I like the honesty and adore the fact that it is not a cliched love song!

    However, the refrain jars: ‘I hope I always stay worthy of your love’.

    In many ways, the refrain is the natural conclusion of the verses. The lover sings of their hope to do things right. The refrain is simply the summation of all that is expressed in the verse! The writer is clearly saying – if I can do all I hope to do – then I will show the qualities that deserve your continued love!

    The refrain works in the song, but it does not even begin to describe divine love.

    When John baptises Jesus, we are told that a voice comes from heaven and says: ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’ What has Jesus done in his life before this point that would make God love him? Nothing, nothing of note, nothing that the gospel writers feel should be recorded!

    When these words are echoed at the Transfiguration, much later in Jesus’ ministry, you could argue Jesus has merited, was worthy, of this declaration of love. He had preached, performed miracles and shown people God’s love! Yet, before his baptism there is no narrative to explain why God might be well pleased.

    When we teach about baptism, when we talk of it as an outward sign of God’s grace that is freely given, we are describing God’s love. A candidate for baptism does not need to prove themselves worthy. In Baptism God says: ‘this is my beloved child’. Within the Baptism service we say to the one to be baptised: ‘In Baptism, the word of scripture is fulfilled: ‘We love, because God first loved us.’’

    God is well aware of the frailties we all have and our ability to mess up. God is not going to take away love just because we don’t keep a promise or fail in a task! Because God loves us first, we don’t need to hope we always stay worthy of God’s love! Yet, we are challenged to respond to what is divinely and freely given. We love because God first loved us.

    Too often we forget this; we fill our diaries with appointments, meetings and events, taking pride in being overworked, and therefore able to feel worthy of God’s love…

    I hope I always fill my diary

    I hope I always have more to do

    While there’s a space and I have time

    I hope my work is never through

    I hope I always keep on giving

    I hope I always keep awake

    I hope I keep on pushing myself and

    Never need another break

    I hope I always stay worthy of your love!

    For those of us guilty of filling every moment of every day in God’s service it is sobering to be locked down. And we struggle. Yes, we can still try and fill the hours and minute and refuse to take time off, but inevitably there is more time to listen and reflect on ourselves and our discipleship. God wants us to know, even though we can’t respond the way we used to, that we are loved.

    So, when these restrictions hit you hardest, listen… when you miss family and friends most acutely, listen… when you cannot bare another Sunday within the same four walls and not at church, listen… when your self-isolation passes so slowly, listen… when you are desperate for something to do, listen… when you feel all alone, lost and at your wit’s end, listen…

    …listen for God and hear God utter the gracious words ‘you are my beloved child, with whom I am well pleased’. There will be plenty of time to respond when lock down is over…

    More about Nigel Stonier can be found here   https://www.nigelstonier.com/

  • ’99 Luftballons’ – Nena

    Gill writes:

    Some tracks have so much more meaning than the words and music. And this German New Wave song is one of them for me.

    I spent Easter 1983 in Giessen, West Germany on a school exchange. It was (and still is) one of the best times of my life. I fell in love with travel; I fell in love with Germany and I fell in love with my new German friends. I was immersed in a Roman Catholic Easter where ‘Stations of the Cross’ was a torchlit walk through thick forest and castle ruins. (And by torchlight I mean burning torches of wood and flame that would give most Health & Safety Officers great anxiety.)

    This song, ’99 Luftballons’, was flying high in the charts all the time I was there and swiftly became the soundtrack to my time in Giessen. I bought the single before I returned and then drove my family up the wall by playing it incessantly until the end of the summer (and probably beyond) – and so in March 1984 when ’99 Red Balloons’ was released in the UK, I was beside myself with excitement.

    When I heard it however, my heart sank. What had happened to the feisty, New Wave anti-war protest song about living in fear but still with hopes & dreams? Why was I listening to a trite, sugar-coated pop song? The phrase ‘lost in translation’ never felt truer which is why I chose the video above – it translates the words more literally so that the song’s meaning comes across.

    So here’s what ’99 Luftballons’ means to me. It means spending time in a place that had reflected on and learned about democracy, power, guilt and shame. It means seeing people without the labels of national stereotypes. It means living as part of a family and community that welcomes and loves. It means being hugged by Oma (Annette’s grandma) who 40 years earlier might not have imagined that she’d ever hug a British teenager.

    The song was inspired when the group’s guitarist went to a Rolling Stones concert in Berlin and he watched balloons that had been released float into the sky. He wondered what would happen if they crossed the Wall into East Berlin – would they show up as enemy aircraft on East German radars? Could World War III blow up because of an overreaction to a few balloons being released?

    There are so many tangents that I could wander down about this song. About reconciliation; about the futility of war; about spending time in a country that was physically divided and the experience of standing and staring at ‘die Grenze’; about living in a time and place where fear of nuclear war was very much a real fear.

    But I’m going to hone in on two things. Firstly – we can learn and change from our experiences as an individual and as a collective (be that family, church, community, nation). The German town where I stayed was very different 40 years earlier in the midst of World War II and then again 7 years later when the ‘Wall’ had come down. The amazing thing about humans is that we can learn and grow a better world. And we can move on.

    I’m reminded of something that Rachel Held-Evans said (this Monday saw the first anniversary of her death) – “even the first apostles allowed themselves to be changed by goodness in the world.  When the law-abiding, kosher-eating, Roman-hating Peter encountered a Roman centurion who feared God and gave to the poor, Peter—to his own astonishment—says,  “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right.” 

    As we remember VE Day today in Britain, we’d do well to remember that we’ve had 75 years of relative peace in Europe because we have spent time and effort in dialogue, reconciliation and having a willingness to change and work together.

    The other thought probably speaks as much into the situation we find ourselves in currently. History teaches us that nothing lasts forever – global pandemics have come and gone; wars have come and gone; regimes have come and gone. As I sit here, 75 years after World War 2 ended in Europe, I’m aware that we’re caught up in another space of time that feels like it will never end but we know that it will at some stage. I didn’t expect to see Germany reunify in my lifetime but it did. I didn’t expect CD’s to become obsolete but they did. I didn’t expect to be living through a global pandemic but I am (and so are you!).

    What I can be sure of is that whatever the future holds, God will be at the centre – nudging us, encouraging us, inspiring us, caring for us. And that’s all I need to know. There will still be that one balloon left – full of hopes and dreams that sits in the ruins. I’ll think of that – and let it go.

    Nena is still making music – you can find her here at https://www.nena.de/en/bio

  • ‘Move on Up’ – Curtis Mayfield

    Jane writes:

    If only you knew how much I simply love this song.  It’s on my list of dancefloor fillers and has been there for a very long time.  At my 40th Birthday Party when I was allowed to pick half an hour of music and it ended up being 65 minutes.  At Christmas Party gatherings with friends when you can coax the DJ into playing what you like as long as you dance.  At many a family do when I could dance away with my cousin’s hubby who loves this just as much as me. At any opportunity frankly!

    It’s fast and furious and you can effectively do an aerobics workout at the same time. It keeps going forever and this extended version is even better with a jazzy ending.

    In all this marvellous energetic excitement then, the lyrics can take a back seat but they too are fabulous and in part play right into the current context we happen to find ourselves in.  Here’s a few extracts.

    Hush now child, and don’t you cry
    Your folks might understand you, by and by
    Move on up, toward your destination
    You may find from time to time
    Complication

    ……………….

    Bite your lip, and take a trip
    Though there may be wet road ahead
    And you cannot slip
    So move on up for peace will find
    Into the steeple of beautiful people
    Where there’s only one kind

    ……………….

    Just move on up, to a greater day
    With just a little faith
    If you put your mind to it you can surely do it

    I suppose no-one knows why these lyrics made it here in this song but for sure it is about moving on, moving up to something new, something better, something different, something that isn’t like it is right now.

    So go on.  Dance round the living room like there is no one watching.  Recognise the truth that there will be a better day.  Use is as an expression of your faith if you dare.  God is in everything after all and letting their life force simply permeate every bit of you is worship in itself.

    You can find out so much more about the legacy of Curtis Mayfield here  https://www.curtismayfield.com/

  • ‘Pirate Song’ by Kenny Chesney

    Nigel writes:

    Say a prayer and sail away …

    I used to do lots of music – leading worship, playing in different bands, writing songs and doing recordings. Then I stopped … that was until about two years ago when I discovered afresh my passion and desire. Since then I have returned to leading worship and playing a few set-piece songs in the village where I live.

    During this last couple of years, I have also discovered contemporary country music (please don’t think this means Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers!). I love it: great production values, acoustic charms, three chords and the truth told in stories about country life, love, life, loss and whisky. One the guys I like best at the moment is a man called Kenny Chesney. Providing we can go, my wife and I have tickets for him at a stadium gig in Detroit in August. Here’s hoping …

    My current fave of his is a song called ‘Pirate Song’. It’s a tale of fantasy, travel, hope, faith and the dream of better times; plus a fabulous driving acoustic guitar riff. The combo of these things seems most apt for our current times.

    I wish I was a pirate shipwreck down in Mexico

    Where the oceans turn to silver and the beaches turn to gold

    I’d make love to some senorita in that town

    I’d get on my boat and I’d sail the ocean round

    I wish I was a pirate out there under my own flag

    Running for no reason and no reason to turn back

    The salt and rum on my tongue, sails tattered and torn

    Laughing in the devil’s face, riding out the storm

    Ooh, one of these days

    Gonna get off of this highway

    Wake up in Sun Bay

    With the sunshine on my face Saint Christopher on a silver chain

    Say a prayer and sail away

    I wish I was pirate on some gold ship in the night

    With nothing but the stars, the moon and faith to be my guide

    Steady as she goes with my back to the wind

    Let a cloud of cannon smoke, I disappear again

    Pirates don’t always get a good press! But I like the pirate narrative of this song: sailing; running; laughing; and ‘nothing but the stars, the moon and faith to be my guide’. I like the idea of being a faith and theological pirate, flying flags, tasting new delights, laughing in the face of the enemy and riding out the storms. Pioneering and breaking away from the main highways of life and sailing away.

    In these challenging times, maybe you could sit back and think about sailing on the oceans, free and fast. Contemplate which highways to take, and which to avoid; when to be present, and when to disappear in a cloud of smoke.

    If all that is a bit too much for you, then just enjoy the music and that fabulous three chord riff …

    Find out more about Kenny Chesney at https://www.kennychesney.com/home

    Source: LyricFind Songwriters: Jon Randall / Kenny Chesney Pirate Song lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management

  • ‘When You Say Nothing at All’ – Ronan Keating

    Heather writes:

    This is a song that I heard for the first time whilst watching ‘Notting Hill’ with my dad. And for that reason is very special to me as watching movies with my dad was my way of spending time with him. 

    This song is also the first song I learned to play on my guitar whilst simultaneously singing as well – well, the first challenging song. What drew me to learning this song on guitar were the hammer-ons on the D chord and the gentle softness of it even though it still had a great hook. 

    The baseline of the song is that two people know each other so well that they know what one another is thinking without the need to say it allowed. This speaks loudly in my life as growing up I did not talk very much, so many of my close friends and family did learn how to work out what I was thinking. 

    It also talks about how loud and busy the outside world is, but you can still contain yourself in a bubble of two minds. Finally it talks about what truth can be found in someone’s eyes, or what a touch of the hand can mean to some people, and also above these,  how powerful a smile can be. 

    The repetitive simplicity of the picking pattern is very soothing for me because even though it isn’t simple to play per se, with enough practise it became second nature, and it is one of 2 songs that I ALWAYS play whenever I pick up a guitar. 

    For me it has always been quite special to me because I live in a family who do not voice our more affectionate emotions very often and so this song has always been a way of reaching out to them. Particularly between me and my dad. It has brought us closer because we have been a sizable physical difference apart from each other for the last 8 years.

    In contrast to this, my Heavenly Father and I have always had a very close relationship. Personally I do not like prayer but I love Jesus, so I talk to him – we talk very often.

    So this song’s message of listening closely really resonates in more ways than one. 

    If you want to find out more about Ronan Keating, you can visit his website at https://www.ronankeating.com/

  • ‘Praying for Time’ – George Michael

    Jane writes:

    There is rarely a time when I don’t want to analyse a song and think in detail about its content, its message, its tune etcetera, etcetera. But every now and again a song appears that seem to speak for itself.

    This is such a song. It’s a soul-piercing piece of great impact. I can’t say it’s perky or indeed in any way optimistic but it does give serious food for thought. Here are the lyrics:

    These are the days of the open hand

    They will not be the last

    Look around now

    These are the days of the beggars and the choosers

    This is the year of the hungry man

    Whose place is in the past

    Hand in hand with ignorance

    And legitimate excuses

    The rich declare themselves poor

    And most of us are not sure

    If we have too much

    But we’ll take our chances

    ‘Cause God’s stopped keeping score

    I guess somewhere along the way

    He must have let us all out to play

    Turned his back and all God’s children

    Crept out the back door

    And it’s hard to love, there’s so much to hate

    Hanging on to hope

    When there is no hope to speak of

    And the wounded skies above say it’s much, much too late

    Well, maybe we should all be praying for time

    These are the days of the empty hand

    Oh, you hold on to what you can

    And charity is a coat you wear twice a year

    This is the year of the guilty man

    Your television takes a stand

    And you find that what was over there is over here

    So you scream from behind your door

    Say, “What’s mine is mine and not yours”

    I may have too much but I’ll take my chances

    ‘Cause God’s stopped keeping score

    And you cling to the things they sold you

    Did you cover your eyes when they told you

    That he can’t come back

    ‘Cause he has no children to come back for

    It’s hard to love, there’s so much to hate

    Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of

    And the wounded skies above say it’s much too late

    So maybe we should all be praying for time

    Sometimes God cuts through in the words of others. Maybe they will today.

    More can be found out about George Michael’s legacy here https://www.georgemichael.com/

  • ‘Brave Face’ by Frank Turner

    Gill writes:

    It’s this time of year when I wait with bated breath for the line-up at the Greenbelt Festival to be announced. This year it seems that we’re waiting with bated breath for a different reason – will Greenbelt 2020 succumb to the Covid-19 restrictions like so many other key events and festivals? Most probably.

    Last year’s announcement (like every year) brought with it an expansion to my downloads, playlists and CD collection (yes, I still buy them if I love the artist so much) – 2019 was the year that Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls were the headline act. I’d heard of them but had never heard them so off I went to download the latest album ‘Be More Kind’ – and I was smitten.

    ‘Brave Face’ was one the tracks that I slowly warmed too. It’s suited to a noisy, crowded gig where the audience can sing at the tops of their voices rather than Saturday morning background music while you read the papers. The words made sense but in a distant way – rather like watching a disaster film does. You know that there could be a possibility that you might be facing the crisis that the characters are facing but surely it wouldn’t happen in your lifetime.

    I’d never have thought that the words would take on a deeper meaning within such a short space of time. The song has become the soundtrack to my brave, new world of staying at home and only going out when necessary. It’s helped me face the day with a sense of determination – to get up and get ready like it’s just another day

    Put on your brave face,

    I need your brave face Honey

    and get ready for the end of the world.

    Put on your best clothes, take a deep breath

    Don’t bury your head and draw yourself up tall

    It’s so easy to live as though we’re in ‘stasis’ – that we’re in some waiting room – waiting for real life to return. But if we’re living life like we’re in some huge waiting room – are we really living? Self-isolation and social distancing is our life at this moment in time – by waiting for ‘normal service’ to return means that we’re missing out on what life is showing us at the moment.

    At long last, we’ve got time. Time to chat, read, write, bake, build models, clean bikes, spring clean, potter around the garden, savour the one piece of daily exercise, to get on with that job you’ve been putting off and best of all, we’ve got time to ‘be’. What a joy to not have to utter the phrase ‘I’ve been so busy, I didn’t have time to…’

    Most of all, it’s giving us time to weigh up what really matters and think about how we might live our lives differently when we get to the other side. I will relish these days because when life returns to a normality. I won’t have this luxury of time but I will try to ensure that I create space to be present and appreciate moments as they happen, rather than looking ahead to the next moment.

    So sometime today, I’m going to ask Google to play ‘Brave Face’ and I’m going to sing it at the top of my voice as if I am back at Greenbelt 2019 in the sweltering evening heat of the Glade stage watching Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls.

    The world is a mess now,

    baby it’s best now

    If we start again with new visions in mind

    So put on your brave face,

    I need your brave face Honey

    and we’ll make it to the other side

    You can find out more about Frank Turner by visiting https://frank-turner.com/

  • ‘Riverman’ – Nick Drake

    Jane writes:

    I have long since loved this song.  It’s one of those tracks that both haunts and calms you, and whilst out on my solo village walk the other night it came up quite randomly on my playlist.  I have to admit I did feel more settled straight away.  The familiarity, the lilt of the sound, the softening voice, the expansive back track, the sound of the rippling water all add to the other worldliness of it.

    The characters within the lyrics don’t ever really seem to know what’s going on, what they want or whether they really want it.  It seems that praying is of value but the writer isn’t sure why or how.

    The one constant is in the Riverman who you can tell all your troubles to, your plans, your ideas and your concerns.

    It’s always intrigued me how songs you love best don’t seem to make total sense. Glimpses of lyrics seem to resonate and connect at a given time and they’re not always the same ones.  They seem to rest on your emotions and what is happening around you. This week then for me it’s these

    Going to see the river man
    Going to tell him all I can
    About the ban
    On feeling free.

    If he tells me all he knows
    About the way his river flows
    I don’t suppose
    It’s meant for me

    In these uncertain times, the thought of having something/someone constant that you can share everything with is comforting. For many of us as Christians that constant is God.

    I’m certainly feeling like there’s a ban on “feeling free” right now but I am also bound to notice what it is I’m being told, taught, encouraged to pay attention to because it may be meant for more than just me.

    If nothing else this song brings a window to another place beyond confinement where the river flows.

    Sadly Nick Drake died a long time ago but you can find out about his music and legacy here

    http://www.brytermusic.com/about/