Breathless by Nick Cave

 If I was asked to write an obituary for Nick Cave, it would begin with what is, on the surface, a most unlikely observation:

One of the foremost composers of love songs of his generation passed today: Nick Cave.

Of course, he is also one the foremost composers of songs about hate, about perversion, about dissipation etc. There are a number of songs by Nick Cave which have turned up on love missives, in the form of mixed cds, that I have made for my life mate over the years.  "Breathless" hasn't but, no doubt, it will soon.

From the opening couplet, he had me at "gambolling."  This is followed by the extraordinary three lines

And the red-breasted robin beats his wings
His throat it trembles when he sings
For he is helpless before you

A robin's throat trembling in a rock song - really?   Fer chrissakes, robins don't even make it into popular songs anymore, no less with beating wings and certainly not with throats a-tremble.

The happy hooded bluebells bow
And bend their heads all a-down
Heavied by the early morning dew

Ok, at "happy hooded bluebells" I'm taking off my clothes and lying down.  Followed by "bend their heads all a-down / Heavied by the early morning dew" - damn, you get the idea.  This is deepish lingo for pop, be it stretched syntax or no.

At the whispering stream, at the bubbling brook
The fishes leap up to take a look
For they are breathless over you

This is one song written by someone who has got you on the ground and is not letting you up.

Still your hands
And still your heart
For still your face comes shining through
And all the morning glows anew
Still your mind
Still your soul
For still, the fare of love is true
And I am breathless without you

This chorus is a beauty and serves its function well, particularly when it rolls round again with the songwriter's stock in-trade of minor variances to keep the listener attentive and in this case, which is rare in rock indeed, the changes actually further the understanding and add depth to the meaning.

Still your hands
And still your heart
For still your face comes shining through
And all the morning glows anew
Still your soul
Still your mind
Still, the fire of love is true
And I am breathless without you

All nature ends up bowing to the narrator's love.  In the next three verses we have:

The fox chases the rabbit round
The rabbit hides beneath the ground
For he is defenceless without you

The sky of daytime dies away
And all the earthly things they stop to play
For we are all breathless without you

I listen to my juddering bones
The blood in my veins and the wind in my lungs
And I am breathless without you

Cave has centered all the imagery around the natural world, as one still occasionally finds in some modern Indian Bollywood songs.   He has taken it back to basics, grounding us in the real, leading us away from the morass of modern mind.

Gambolling, juddering, happy hooded bluebells, anything bowed by morning dew, fish leaping out of a brook to take a look - take all these elements and, go ahead, write a pop song.   Go on.  I dare ya.

More likely, you'll write a poem.

Here's the song in its entirety.  Don't be put off musically by the opening, which seems to be an odd amalgam of slightly off-key recorder and flute.  It called to mind for me a sound similar to gagaku, a type of Japanese court music.  Whatever it is, and whatever the intent, by the time it returns at the end, you've forgotten how it began, particularly if you are as stunned as I was at what came between.

Breathless
It's up in the morning and on the downs
Little white clouds like gambolling lambs
And I am breathless over you

And the red-breasted robin beats his wings
His throat it trembles when he sings
For he is helpless before you

The happy hooded bluebells bow
And bend their heads all a-down
Heavied by the early morning dew

At the whispering stream, at the bubbling brook
The fishes leap up to take a look
For they are breathless over you

Still your hands
And still your heart
For still your face comes shining through
And all the morning glows anew
Still your mind
Still your soul
For still, the fare of love is true
And I am breathless without you

The wind circles among the trees
And it bangs about the new-made leaves
For it is breathless without you

The fox chases the rabbit round
The rabbit hides beneath the ground
For he is defenceless without you

The sky of daytime dies away
And all the earthly things they stop to play
For we are all breathless without you

I listen to my juddering bones
The blood in my veins and the wind in my lungs
And I am breathless without you

Still your hands
And still your heart
For still your face comes shining through
And all the morning glows anew
Still your soul
Still your mind
Still, the fire of love is true
And I am breathless without you 

Nick Cave

This brief interlude was brought to you by the fact that I am diligently working on a review of a recent edition of Modern Haiku, which I hope to post next Friday. I was overwhelmed by this song while walking into work yesterday - I played it over a dozen times in a row - and since I knew, literary as it is in tone, it would never fit into the requirements of the Sunday Service, I decided to share it today instead.


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Here are two poems from Lilliput Review #116, March 2001, both brief, both powerful in their own ways.  Enjoy.

Saint Sebastian
Unless they fly they cannot sing.
Unless they find flesh they have no voice. Silently Sebastian
Welcomes his arrows.

   Tim Robbins

trying to forget
everything else
golden horseshit

Ed Baker

the sliding door's
decorative pattern...
fly shit

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

best,
Don

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Steve Richmond: Gagaku Meat

Where does one begin? For those of you relatively recent to the small press scene, the name of Steve Richmond may be unfamiliar. Steve was, in his day, one of the small press giants; a close friend of Bukowski, published by da levy of Cleveland among many, many others, Steve was part of the original mimeograph small press revolution of the 60's which grew out of the Beats into one of the great counterculture movements in US history.

Steve Richmond was a haunted man. He choose to make his demons manifest and they weren't nearly metaphoric enough; somehow, they were real. Most famous for his "gagaku poems," which often portrayed nastily-clawed creatures that tormented and hounded and delighted him, they were all composed to the strains of the form of ancient Japanese court music known as gagaku. There are precious few of these poems around, though there are still a collection or two to be found for purchase. I published four gagaku poems in the early 90's. In the interest of the spirit of the mimeograph revolution, here they are:



gagaku

-------------------they're driving
--------------------knapsack
----------around their neck with the bully
---------------------------------part of the knapsack
hanging over the back of their
----------------------front seat
-----------------and swinging at rear seat ass level

they are not so easy to describe

---------------you
--------------------gentle
--------------------reader
--try describing your own
--------------------demons
-------------------------sometime

Steve Richmond

gagaku

he's writing too much
---------but everyone leaves him alone
with his fine obsession

any obsession where one human
leaves all other humans
------------at peace
--------------is a fine art

Steve Richmond

gagaku

-------accused of
-------------self indulgent narcissism
------------------I
----------------admit it

demons clap
they like me honest

Steve Richmond

gagaku

bah
the music is
-over

Steve Richmond

These examples only give you the merest hint of the power of his work. It was mesmerizing, enthralling, and hypnotic. All of this is by way of an introduction to a brand new book about Richmond (pictured above) by the publisher, novelist and poet Mike Daily, entitled Gagaku Meat: The Steve Richmond Story.

Last year, Mike contacted me asking me if I could share any remiscenses of Steve since I had published him in the early issues of Lilliput Review [pdf file] (I just discovered on amazon an issue of Lillie going for $48.00 because Steve was in it - I quickly listed it at the going rate around here, $1.00) and I was happy to oblige. All in all, the book serves not only as an inquiry into a talented, tortured soul, but as a distinctive chapter in the history of the small press underground movement of the later part of the 20th century. Many fellow poets and publishers are quoted at length here. Mike recounts the history his own friendship with Steve, as well as Steve's relationships with Jim Morrison and Charles Bukowski, and his ungodly descent into a drug addled hell that would have even demons scurrying for safety. It is at once a sad, horrific and beautiful account, much like the man himself.
Here is the blurb for the book that Mike Daily sent along. If you have even a faint interest in Richmond and small press history, I highly recommend it. It is riveting.

***************************************************************************

Gagaku Meat Press Release (April 4, 2009)

Gagaku Meat: The Steve Richmond Story is a 32-page, 19,000-word journalism piece written about poet Steve Richmond. The feature article was produced for buk scene 1, a new Charles Bukowski-influenced magazine from Holland. Gagaku Meat is now available as an 8-1/2" x 11" format small press zine.

Santa Monica abstract artist and close friend of Richmond, David Garcia, was interviewed for Gagaku Meat, as well as 20 poets, writers and publishers: Gerald Locklin, FrancEyE (Frances Smith, mother of Bukowski's daughter, Marina), Al Berlinski, John Martin, A.D. Winans, Kurt Nimmo, Linda King, Nila NorthSun, Richard Peabody, Mat Gleason, Ron Androla, S.A. Griffin, Alan Kaufman, Jeffrey Weinberg, Don Wentworth, Ed Smith, Alan Catlin, Billy Childish, Pat deTurk, Ben Pleasants.

Three poets contributed exclusive sidebar poems about Richmond: Jim Chandler, Todd Moore and Neeli Cherkovski (Cherkovski's is titled, "You Were Angry").

Two weeks ago, Steve Richmond told David Garcia he is "enthralled" about Gagaku Meat.


Available for $6 postage-paid direct from Mike Daily on the multi-media Steve Richmond tribute site, Mr. Viced Honest:

http://www.myspace.com/mrvicedhonest

Available now from Powell's Books:

http://powells.com/biblio/7-9781127644421-0

Preview video of Gagaku Meat on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NmQcGjYF3fY


Mike Daily
http://www.mickogrady.blogspot.com

******************************************************************


Finally to cap off this post about Steve, here's a link to a recent interview with him done at 3 AM. Also a post by the always great Dennis Cooper with material by Ben Pleasants, an edited version of the interview, and some of Steve's poems, and lots of his attitude. Fittingly, Steve's work can be found in The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry. He is still alive and evidently writing again. Here's hoping things are going well for him.
For those interested in his method of composition, something that enthralled me and that I mentioned to Mike Daily, here is an example of gagaku music:



If you do have the opportunity to read Gagaku Meat, you'll learn the well-known story of Steve's bust for obscenity when he published some anti-war material in his magazine, Earth Rose. The cover image may seem quaint now, but the message was and still remains powerful in the iconic way so typical of the counter culture:








best,
Don