black eyed dog meets boom bip

some mornings i wake up with a profound and inescapable despair. i can't source it to any single cause and so can't compel it to leave any sooner than it chooses. in the north of england this period of abject misery has a name - the black dog.
nick drake sang of this in his song "black-eyed dog" . . .
winston churchill famously characterized his periodic bouts of depression as 'the black dog'.

i think that it serves a purpose as a sort of balance following periods of pronounced expelling of energy or focussing of energy on a cause. it compels me to be quiet, insular, self-absorbed, even anti-social. the dilemma is that most people around me aren't used to that and so worry and express concern about my well-being.

and so under grey skies pregnant with impending rain i will take this opportunity to share with you a piece of music that is not cheery and boppy and worthy of party play. sometime ago a period of my life ended and i recognized it for what it was - an ending - which being clever and able to cerebralize pretty much anything i dismissed as not so much an ending as a beginning. and this song accompanied that moment and judging by the “most frequently played” listing on my itunes folder - it has some sustainability and lasting relevance for me. at the beginning of this tune, there is a quote attributed to mark twain. i scouted it out and here it is . . . wow . . . i thought he was the one who wrote about boys being boys. this is heavy, dark stuff!
mark twain's writing.


boom bip - the creator of this song - is actually one man - bryan hollon, one of many musicians who began life as a dj on a radio station and then, rather than playing other people’s tunes, decided to crank out some of his own.

boom bip can be found on my space.

“the matter” by boom bip . . .

i know it makes you feel sad
then you look at me that way
your hands hold on the railing
as we glide across the bay

with everything uncertain
it's easy to defend
but we do not talk of feelings
and you know I can't pretend

i don't believe in the power of love
i don't believe in the wisdom of stone
i don't believe in a God or the mind
la la la la

i listen to you breathing
its steady and its slow
we lie close to the ceiling
i think of children in our home

but the quiet in the quarters
stirs me from the thought
i might leave tomorrow
to feel the joy of a new start

i don't believe in the power of love
i don't believe in the wisdom of stone
i don't believe in a god or the mind

in the morning many seabirds
on the icy wind arrive
never crowding their companions
against the blinding sky they die

i think about you sleeping
how you'll miss the morning tide
but my stomach is uneasy
and I choose to stay outside

i don't believe in the power of love
i don't believe in the wisdom of stone
i don't believe in a God or the mind
i'm not alone