Bridget writes:

Can I not just be sad?

Have you ever noticed how we are influenced by the voice of social media, friends, culture, church, and music, to move from the place of sadness to sunshine as quickly as possible?

The pace and lyrics of this song, jar; irritate; frustrate. I am in no hurry here!
Sorry Messrs Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr. The Beatles.

I need to remain here, at a pace and timing that bears witness to injustice,
bereavement, loss.

Survival of the fittest and evolution speaks of the avoidance of sadness.

We shush the crying baby – “don’t cry.”

Even the irritating lyrics of the well-known, well-meaning Christmas Carol adds volume to the message – “No crying he makes” … why on earth not? I shout! The message is there – imprinted; sadness is bad and should be avoided.

Research says sadness is essential. More importantly, the genius Pixar film ‘Inside Out’ illustrates what happens when we don’t recognise its place. And if we need the icing on the top, Brene Browne’s writing on Empathy cements the deal with a cherry and sprinkles as well.

Sadness is a live emotion that can serve to remind us of what matters to us and what gives our life meaning in the life song of ourselves or others.

Micah 6:8 – Life Livers, know that we can’t turn from injustice and simply look the other way, in the knowledge that the sun is coming!

Without sadness, are our emotions able to be stirred? Our heart cry realised? Our call to action…. Kicking our butt?

As a person of faith, my theology must allow room for suffering. It can’t not address it. I lament this week for the bereavement a friend is feeling. Deep, aggrieved anger rises in me and I struggle to put words to it. Whilst she suffers…. I silently pray.

I cry for a loved one walking a journey of mental health frustrations …. I SHOUT in prayer for God to be peace in the torment.

And I sit in stillness, immobilised in powerlessness, as I see injustice, destitution rising, and abuse of power…..

I open my hands.

Throughout the Psalms, there are examples of songs that describe the shifting of emotions in the sphere of deep convicted sadness of lament, trading this emotion for joy in a transaction through prayer or surrender.

These seem to get more radio space than the less popular ones which remain
patiently, purposefully, and probingly in the place of lament. One such Psalm is truly a ‘lament on high-octane’, Psalm 88.

It comes as comfort.

It’s okay to stay here.

God’s here too, you invited them here

‘LORD, you are the God who saves me; day and night I cry out to
you. May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry.’

Through lament, we can grieve and struggle with suffering. Through lament, we foster empathy, connecting us with people close or far. We stop being rescuers because instead, we want to be people of integrity; people who do messy real life from a place amongst and not on an ivory tower; standing with the hurting as they go through their trials. This is their story, their owned song, but we can sit beside, without the need to utter – here comes the sun!

So whether you need to be in the place of lament today or whether you are walking with another soul who has this as their emotion currently, don’t be too quick to dish out the happy pills, or point out that the sun is coming, when actually all that falls is rain.

Just sit, stand, walk, pray beside, and be here a little while longer…

You can find out more about The Beatles at https://www.thebeatles.com/

Sally writes:

The struggle I feel is I find a lot of Ed Sheeran’s music, including this song, boring and bland. Why is this a struggle for me? Well I feel I owe some loyalty to Ed Sheeran as I come from Suffolk, and he is probably the most famous person to have grown up there for several centuries. This is compounded because Ed Sheeran has sponsored Ipswich Town Football Club shirts for the last couple of seasons. I own a number of these, (home, away and blackout kit). I am wearing clothing which advertises the music I’m not so keen on.

If I’m honest this tension between something I find boring but feel a sense of duty to is not new. I have often felt like this about church. I have felt a duty to attend, volunteer and be involved in church communities because I am a Christian but to be honest have found it as boring as listening to Thinking Out Loud a fair bit of the time. It’s not that I actively dislike a lot of church services, but it’s that I don’t connect with them. I feel closer to God in the Tate Modern than I do most churches.

I want to stress there is nothing wrong with most church services. Indeed like Ed Sheeran’s music, there are lots of people who like mainstream hymn sandwiches, choral evensong, or lively worship events. It’s just I find all of these boring and either a bit too wholesome or inauthentic. It’s a bit like in The Smiths song Panic when it says “The music they constantly play, it says nothing to me about my life”. I think this sums up my problem with Ed Sheeran too.

My struggle with Ed Sheeran and his music was brought to a bit of a head in autumn last year when he made a personal appearance at my local record shop, Banquet Records in Kingston. Did I go or not? I’m not a fan of his music but I am grateful for what he has done for my football club. My decision was to go but to make clear to everybody that I was just there because of the football.

Church-wise I nearly left church, being clear I still held faith but feeling I had had enough of being bored and unconnected to God in church a lot of the time. But then I read the Brian McLaren book, ‘Do I Stay Christian?’ I decided to give church one more go and go to my current inclusive Methodist church in South West London because it is basically the church equivalent of indie, punk or metal, (although their music isn’t from those genres) – a bit more edgy and accepting of difference rather than bland, inoffensive and mainstream.

Find out more about Ed Sheeran at https://www.edsheeran.com/

Gill writes:

Oh, I struggle with this song on more than one level. Where do I start?

Firstly, I’m afraid that I have to hold my hands up or stick my head above the parapet – whichever is the more dangerous – and say that I really am not keen on Whitney’s voice. I know that this may upset the majority of people who think that she has a fantastic voice, and that’s fine. Just be mindful that not everyone is there with you. There is at least one person who finds her voice to be on a par with scrunching polystyrene in your hands. I don’t know why. I can say the same about Mariah Carey. I think there is a particular vocal register that my ears just can’t get on with – apart from ‘One Moment in Time’ when I think she, and her voice, nail it superbly.

Secondly, the whole story of this song depresses me. I sometimes wonder whether women’s lib ever really happened. Has this woman really no agency of her own? Why is it that people descend into illicit love affairs where snatching a moment or two with the person you love is all that you live for? I want to shake her and say ‘Wake up Whitney. You are worth more than this. Life is so much more than this!’.

I mean:

A few stolen moments, is all that we share
You’ve got your family, and they need you there
Though I try to resist, being last on your list
But no other man’s gonna do
So I’m saving all my love for you

Seriously? I want to ask – is it the man that you love? Or is the riskiness of the situation that you love?

So many people find this a romantic song – perhaps because of the soulful way that it is sung (I will give her that) – but I honestly struggle to see what is romantic about being a ‘mistress’ (wish I didn’t have to use this word but I couldn’t think of another) who spends most of her life waiting for a message to say ‘I’m free, I can meet you at ….’. To me, such a life is wracked with sadness and loneliness, not romance and excitement.

I know that we humans can fall in love with people who are with others. I know that we can dabble on the edge of dubious relationships, being filled with infatuation. I know that we can find out that a lover is already in another relationship after we’ve embarked on a relationship. I get that we lead messy, complicated lives at times, and I’m not passing judgment on those caught up in relationships like this whatsoever. Goodness knows that my teenage and younger adult years were a catalogue of unrequited love and questionable relationships. ‘“Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8:7) springs to mind.

This song just makes me feel sangry (sad and angry) that a young woman is wasting her life away on a relationship that is not going to go anywhere. He’s not going to leave his wife and children, and she even sings that she knows this. She’s living under a misapprehension that his married relationship is full of woe and misery, and that his life would be better with her.

You used to tell me we’d run away together
Love gives you the right to be free
You said, “Be patient, just wait a little longer.”
But that’s just an old fantasy

Don’t save all your love for him Whitney. Get yourself out and about with your friends, spend your love on other people and passions. Go and find someone else to heap your love on, and in doing so, find out that you can love and value yourself a lot more too.

Even though Whitney is no longer alive, there is still a website where you can find out all about her and her work https://www.whitneyhouston.com/

Jane writes:

I’ve never been more tempted to write a double FF than I have at this moment.

I’m a fickle soul when it comes to music. Tune and lyrical content need to blend seamlessly for me, and the song usually has to do something to my soul. I have to say if I was giving things up for Lent, this pair of songs would be really easy.

I am annoyed at these songs for all sorts of reasons but mostly because people latch onto the words in a chorus and sing them endlessly without pondering what the rest of the song is about.

Because you’re gorgeous. I’d do anything for you

Or/and

You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re Beautiful, it’s true

One is about the exploitation of a person’s beauty and sexy persona by another in a position of power and influence. The other is a kind of hankering over something you can’t have – to a point of drug-induced obsession. A story of stalking in plain sight.

Both situations are never going to end well and yet people sing ‘You’re gorgeous’ or ‘You’re beautiful’ like the songs are anthems to love and all things
joyous. Herrrummphhhh.

Pay attention is what I want to shout. Don’t latch on to two words and then think they’re the answer to everything. I’m not saying it’s bad to be catchy per se. I’m just saying this girl is conscious that it is easy to get distracted with a tune and easy words (in actual fact I have a massive list of these kinds
of songs but you’d be bored by the end of it – well maybe I could seed a few; Under My Thumb by The Stones say, or Every Breath You Take by the Police).

It isn’t always the writer’s fault as many are making a point (well …………) but a song is the whole thing and you have to be absolutely bothered before you burst forth in song.

You, the reader, are undoubtedly gorgeous; you are absolutely beautiful; but believe me, you don’t want someone to sing these songs to you!

I guess the Lenten takeaway from all of this is: give up being lazy and making assumptions about people, life news and all things cultural, and pay attention to the truth of the matter. Any matter.

Don’t live life in a haze of someone else’s story but dig deep for the honest centre. Look beyond the surface. Don’t get carried along but look for more. Be a seeker of the divine in everyone.

PS I’m am actually annoyed at the writers of these particular songs as their choruses themselves are intentionally exploitative of a listening public. Designed to sell records and hang the consequences. However, you can catch up with their music if you like here:
Baby Bird on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/BabybirdOfficial/?locale=en_GB
James Blunt https://jamesblunt.com/

Bev writes:

Paul Simon released  “I am a Rock” in 1965 (initially as a solo artist but within a year, it was re-released with Art Garfunkel), and it quickly became a hit in the UK charts. I never saw the attraction and can honestly say without reservation, that it’s my number one least favourite song of all time (The Birdy Song is a close second).  

I have no need of friendship.  Friendship causes pain.  

I touch no one, and no one touches me. 

I am a rock. I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.

The song portrays a person who has experienced emotional pain and has chosen to shut themselves off from others to protect themselves from further hurt. 

I imagine most of us can relate to the words of this song because I’m sure we have all, at some point, suffered the pain of a broken heart caused by the rejection of someone we love. It can be devastating, and nothing takes that kind of pain away.  No matter how well-meaning those close to us are, their words of comfort telling us that time is a great healer, and things will be alright in the end, seem hollow, insignificant, and sometimes downright irritating. 

We are all vulnerable when it comes to friendships, things can go wrong, and we can get hurt, however, to remain an island is to rob ourselves of something very special, because our relationships with other people can be truly transformational. 

I recently watched “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”.  I was rather hoping for something a bit more spiritually enlightening, it does after all take place in the heart of India, but alas there is only minimal mention of the Hindu faith. It was also full of clichéd characters – the widow looking to see if there was life outside of being a wife, a man looking to atone for his past because he betrayed his boyfriend, a married couple who had nothing left in common except their loyalty to each other, a woman who couldn’t accept that her youth had long since departed, and a woman who alienated everyone around her. The hotel owner, a very over-enthusiastic young man, answered all of the setbacks his elderly guests were suffering by continually reminding them that “Everything will be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, it’s not the end”.

In some respects, I found it quite depressing because there was a strong thread of loneliness which ran through all the characters and I was tempted to switch it off, but I couldn’t.  I felt compelled to watch it to see if they all sorted themselves out, which of course they did, and they did it by getting to know one another better.  

This wasn’t without its difficulties though because some of them quite obviously rubbed each other up the wrong way. In the real world their paths would never have crossed because they had absolutely nothing whatsoever in common, yet by developing close relationships they each began to understand and empathise with one another’s respective pain, even to the point of devising plans to face them together.  By the end of the film, they had each been transformed by taking their eyes off their own troubles to help one another.

This so reminds me of how our church families work. We are called into friendship with God and that is the engine that drives every other friendship – because out of the rich resources of loving God and knowing God’s presence, we build our friendships with others, even those that we wouldn’t naturally gravitate toward, and to be honest, maybe even those we may positively avoid.

Friendships need to develop slowly and naturally, but if we are living within the confines of past hurts and disappointments there is every chance that our lives will bear testimony to the words of Paul Simon’s song.  That would be tragic because we were never meant to be an island – we are God’s means of enriching others and ourselves through true and lasting friendships. 

So my prayer for you all is – don’t be afraid to take a risk on friendships. Yes, you might get hurt – nobody can guarantee that you won’t but I do know this – everything will be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.

Find out more about Paul Simon at http://www.paulsimon.com/

Jane writes:

So I’ve lost track of the times and occasions when this line from this track has popped into my head. Sometimes it’s a fatalistic realisation for me, and often a refrain I want to sing to others. Especially in church meetings!!

You can’t always get what you want

Apparently, it has been voted as the 100th greatest song of all time so…

I have no idea, of course, if Keith & Mick intended it to be written as a pep talk for complex individuals like me, or a statement of the obvious, but it often does the trick. The narrative of the story in this song seems to move about between scenes and places that have a sort of non-ending to them. Assumed connection, a place to vent frustration and ambiguity between life and death. It’s kind of chaotic and really doesn’t make much sense other than the refrain.

You can’t always get what you want, well no
You can’t always get what you want. I tell you, baby
You can’t always get what you want, no
But if you try sometimes you just might find, uh, mm
You get what you need, oh yeah, woo!

I almost hate the fact that life is not predictable. I recognise it can’t be and I also recognise that the joy of it might be lost if it was but when it all feels too much, having clues might be great!!

My personality understands the flexibility needed in life to navigate who we are and what happens to us and those we love but I really do, at the heart of me, long for clarity. I think that might be why this song resonates so much. I often know what I want and I often know too that it might not be good for me.

Up to a point I can live with that but if I turn into Sandra Bullock in ‘Miss Congeniality’ for a minute, what happens if what I want is world peace?! Why can’t I get what I want? ‘cos frankly I’ve thought it through quite well and it seems reasonable. In those contexts, this song becomes a lament too.

As people of faith, we know scripture is littered with people who very definitely didn’t get what they wanted. God used them differently and often they discovered what they needed all along. But not always.

Sometimes life got very tough and there was seemingly no point nor did those characters get any sense of obtaining what they needed. Which leads me to another less-than-satisfactory conclusion for my complicated soul.

You can’t get the God that you want

God is constant but constantly as unpredictable as life. God is a narrator, an accompanist, a revealer, a shaper, a maker, a creator, an encourager, an enabler, and 50 more descriptors before dinner.

I wonder, then, if the thing for me about this song and all its connotations leads me to new lyrical content:

You can’t get the God that you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find the God you need

I think I’m encouraging us today to be brave enough to seek out the God that helps us discern what we need and go there with them. I’m not promising for one moment though that it will be easy

The Rolling Stones are still releasing new music and you can find out more about them here https://rollingstones.com/

So here’s a challenge for Lent. Are there any songs where:

a) You don’t like the lyrics but love the tune?

or

b) Don’t like the tune but love the lyrics?

or

c) Do You dislike a song that is really popular with other people and can’t understand the fuss about it ?

If there are, would you like to write a Friday Fix about it so that we can include it in our Friday Fixes during Lent? It doesn’t have to be long and profound, short and snappy is welcome here too!

Have a think, write your thoughts down and send it to fridayfixmail@gmail.com. Give us something to think about this Lent!

Tom writes:

Growing up when I did, Queen were one of the great bands that loomed over all other musical output. Yet, at the same time, they were coming towards the end of their heyday (The Miracle was released just before I moved to secondary school, so in my own musical growing up I really only experienced Innuendo and Made in Heaven as new releases – the latter released, of course, after
Freddie Mercury’s death). The opportunity to see and hear them live therefore never existed. So when, in 2002, 11 years after Freddie’s death, The Darkness released the “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” EP, it felt like a big deal.

Now, don’t get me wrong, as much as I love Justin Hawkins (do check out his fabulous YouTube channel, Justin Hawkins Rides Again) I am not suggesting he has anything approaching the genius or star quality of Freddie Mercury, nor that The Darkness are to be equated in any significant way with Queen. Yet, Justin and the band have never hidden their love of Queen and the inspiration they gained from the music of Freddie, Brian, Roger and John. As they strutted onto the music scene in the early noughties, with their overt glam style, flamboyant stage moves, high-pitched melodies and driving riffs, I was one of those who rejoiced that here was a band that gave us at least a little, just a
little, of a taste of what it might have been to see the mighty London-based quartet in their early pomp.

Of course, unlike Queen, The Darkness were never the success story that Queen were. To be fair, they were never likely to be, and the health and addiction issues that affected Hawkins in particular just added to the lowering of their odds of long-lasting superstardom. At the same time, they were far from a failure, or even a one-hit wonder. Despite disagreements and periods of break-up, they’re back together, touring and releasing new music. Yet, it is likely their biggest hit will forever remain “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” (released first as the title track of the aforementioned EP and then as their third official single off the Permission to Land LP).

Listening to “I Believe…” never fails to lift my mood. It is a joyful song that seems full of the excitement that love brings to our lives. It’s a song whose opening riff has me breaking into a huge smile and immediately has me singing along, while attempting both air guitar and air drums at the same time, all while dancing inanely around the kitchen or office (though probably not down the High Street – that’s really not my style!) And at the heart of that joy is, I think, a sense that I really do believe in a thing called Love. Not just the romantic, sexual love that the song is clearly about, but the larger understanding of love as well. The love enables me to see others as being made in the image of God, just as I am. The love that draws me to weep with those in sorrow, and to laugh with those experiencing joy. The love that drives me to have compassion for the least and the lost, and the passion to give a voice to the voiceless and a platform to the downtrodden.

God is love. And I believe in God. Ergo…

Cue lights. Cue spangly unitards. Cue drums. Cue bass. Cue guitars. Cue falsetto scream. “I believe in a thing called love…”

Find out about what The Darkness are up to at https://www.thedarknesslive.com/

Anne writes:

I don’t really know much about Kirsty MacColl apart from the fact that she died a horrible death and she is part of one of the most played Christmas songs of all time. I also remember her funny song about a guy who looks like Elvis that works in the chip shop. Last year, I was introduced to another song from her back catalogue that I have played on a loop ever since.

On the way to work, I tune into Zoe Ball’s breakfast show and she had Jojo Moyes as a guest. Jojo is one of my favourite writers so I was interested to
hear about her new book ‘Someone Else’s Shoes’. During the interview, Zoe played this song by Kirsty MacColl and as soon as I got to work, I began researching it.

It had such a catchy melody with horns and a Salsa beat. Now it is my favourite song to sing in the shower when no one is listening.

Kirsty described it as “a song about being a fashion victim; being a slave to fashion and crippling yourself in the process”. It’s a song about a woman who is propositioned by a number of men who offer her exciting adventures but she cannot take part and says to the men:

“In these shoes? I don’t think so!”

One hopeful partner asks her to walk up and down his spine but she says if she did:

“I doubt you’d survive!”.

The chorus is in Spanish and proclaims

No le gusta caminar
No puede montar a caballo
Cómo se puede bailar
Es un escándalo

Which translates into

She doesn’t like to walk,
She can’t ride a horse
How can she dance
It’s a scandal

In the bible, we are told that there is a time for every activity under heaven. 

I love to dance.

There have been nights when I have danced until the music was turned off but nowadays my hips will not allow too much boogying before they begin complaining.

I have never been one to dance in heels though. I am not a slave to fashion in that way. In fact, in the recent past, I went to an 80s weekend at Butlins and all the people in my party decided to dress up as Octogenarians. I danced in my granny slippers. My feet didn’t ache at all the next day so I have taken to turning up to parties in my dancing slippers.

So when no one is in the house I will put on my slippers, turn on my tune and salsa around with abandon because no one is watching.

I will sing at the top of my voice.

In these slippers? I don’t think so!

You can find out more about Kirsty MacColl at an independently run website – https://www.kirstymaccoll.com/