Ry Cooder “Trouble you can’t fool me. “
Apologies if some of blog followers received a notification of this week’s blog earlier in the week rather than the normal Friday morning. This was due to a technical error (I pressed the wrong button when I was saving the post).
This track is from the fabulous album “Bop till you drop” one of my favourites and it’s hard to find a duff track on the whole album. He combines blues, country and even a sprinkling of gospel in this track. The lyrics say to watch out for trouble coming and that for a lot of people it can disrupt their lives but we have to press on and not let it stop us. Look for the positive.
“Well, you know, everyday can’t be Sunday …and you know one thing, behind every silver lining, there isn’t a dark cloud“
Listening to this album always makes me feel positive. I love the way music can lift you in much the same way that poetry can. I have met many people over the last seventy years who are like that. They don’t look at the negatives in their lives but the positives. In a contradictory way they are also often the ones with the biggest burdens to bear. It might be because of their background (read Benjamin Zephaniah autobiography) or a disability that rather than hold them back has spurred them on.
One of the things I have learned from life is that every day can’t be Sunday and that on those days you just have to suck it up and get on with it but also steps backwards can often be just as important as steps forward. You learn more from failure than you do from success.
Every day can’t be Sunday
Weary to work, scraping the Sunday memories from your eyes
Another Monday morning of cold starts and crowded buses
Standing room only for the passengers who bury their faces in screens
Holding the world in the palm of their hands ignoring the world around them
There are shelves to stock, records to update and reports to file
There are boxes to deliver, screws to turn and lines to draw
There are streets to patrol, wounds to heal and children to teach
There are sods to turn, crops to pick and cattle to milk
Count even the smallest victory and keep the losses in perspective
In your blood are generations of survivors, honour their fortitude
Sweet sleep will come when a hard day has been put to bed
No saviour Friday without a treacherous Monday morning
©Jeff Price July 2018