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Song to the Siren
29/02/2012 11:07 pmIzzie does not like February. Not sure if there is a connection to the 29th of this month being one of the serpent special sacred days or simply because it is such a quirky and unusual day. There is just not that many of them. ;)
But 28 years ago a seemingly insignificant event gave it a special symbolic meaning and today was an opportunity to indulge in all sorts of assorted rituals
February in this bit of Oz is traditionally the most sizzling and stinking hot of months so it is off to a bad start. Then there was the business of leaving the Izzie Aussie homeland as a 14 year old flobberworm to live in the bogs of the wild west of Ireland. That induced a serious case of homesickness and a sense of futility and lack of control over the things that really mattered. That too was in February (1980)
Cannot quite remember what there was for a 19 year old flobberworm to get all miserable about. It was the year for the leaving certificate. The move to Ireland and their school year starting in September meant being 9 months behind schedule. Was not able to jump a year due to the pesky business of the Irish equivalent of Hogwarts OWLs
Maybe it was a delayed onset of the usual teenage emo angst. Having “Hamlet” on the English syllabus certainly did not help. The Germans as usual have a word for it “Weltschmerz” something along the lines of the world is going to hell in a hand basket, woe is me” or “Stop the world, I want to get off” That was a big thing from the 1950s to late 1980s when the possibility of the planet being nuked back to the stone age was almost seen as inevitable
Music and books were two favorite sources of escape. In those days music was mainly in the form of cassettes and vinyl. They were ridiculously expensive to buy and cheap creatures on limited income like yours truly were limited to taping stuff from the radio.
Some time in early 1984 the serpent ears were blown away by a most spine tingling and spooky song which used to be on one of the indie artist music shows on RTE radio. Back in those days they were just as bad as giving information about names of songs and artists as they are now but there was no Google to check the song title and artist or Youtube so that you could get a fix any time you liked. Did find out that it was a mob called “This Mortal Coil” and the title was “Song to the Siren”
It was written by Tim Buckley who was the father of the ubergorgeous Jeff Buckley and both of them came to an untimely demise in the vicinity of water. Coincidence? Izzie does not think so.
Was then on the prowl to snatch this spooky tune for posterity. It was the Wednesday evening of 29th February 1984 that the little red cassette button finally captured the wailing banshee blood curdling voice of Elizabeth Fraser. It became the light at the end of the long miserable tunnel of February and a beacon of hope of better things to come.
If only the Izzie knew at the time that particular February was a picnic compared to what some future years had in store. It is never really possible to know how much of it was a subconscious self fulfilling prophecy but remembers like it was only recently waking up one cold Saturday morning in 1986 feeling all gloomy and doomy and about to pull the covers over and sleep the day away. Then suddenly realized that it was no longer February but the first day of March. The instant charge of energy and enthusiasm was truly scary and of course completely irrational. The mind is a truly strange beast. A tiny change of perspective can make such a big difference.
It was the same tape we chose to play on the evening of Friday 31st December 1999 while watching the last sunset of the year and the millennium (for those folks who aren’t pedantic calendar nazis)
So what better way to commemorate the day than to spend sunset at Cottesloe beach? Especially as the annual Sculpture by the Sea exhibition officially starts tomorrow and most of the works are already there or just need a bit of tweeking
It was a gorgeous sunny and breezy day. Much milder than this time last year and perfect lurking weather for an evening at the beach. The sculptures were an added bonus.
Never did download a copy of the song from itunes as it is there for the listening on Youtube with lots of spooky gothic pictures
After the nasty start to 2012 with the chainsaw massacre at the Lair and the attempt at a reply with the advent of the Chinese Year of the Dragon bringing in seven days of sizzling stinking weather with three in a row at 42 celsius, the last day of February was just the excuse for a sort of New Year’s Eve celebration and bright shiny new beginning for 1st March.
The next time this date falls on a Wednesday will be in 2040 when Izzie will be a shrivelled up old serpent if not already departed from this mortal coil
But 28 years ago a seemingly insignificant event gave it a special symbolic meaning and today was an opportunity to indulge in all sorts of assorted rituals
February in this bit of Oz is traditionally the most sizzling and stinking hot of months so it is off to a bad start. Then there was the business of leaving the Izzie Aussie homeland as a 14 year old flobberworm to live in the bogs of the wild west of Ireland. That induced a serious case of homesickness and a sense of futility and lack of control over the things that really mattered. That too was in February (1980)
Cannot quite remember what there was for a 19 year old flobberworm to get all miserable about. It was the year for the leaving certificate. The move to Ireland and their school year starting in September meant being 9 months behind schedule. Was not able to jump a year due to the pesky business of the Irish equivalent of Hogwarts OWLs
Maybe it was a delayed onset of the usual teenage emo angst. Having “Hamlet” on the English syllabus certainly did not help. The Germans as usual have a word for it “Weltschmerz” something along the lines of the world is going to hell in a hand basket, woe is me” or “Stop the world, I want to get off” That was a big thing from the 1950s to late 1980s when the possibility of the planet being nuked back to the stone age was almost seen as inevitable
Music and books were two favorite sources of escape. In those days music was mainly in the form of cassettes and vinyl. They were ridiculously expensive to buy and cheap creatures on limited income like yours truly were limited to taping stuff from the radio.
Some time in early 1984 the serpent ears were blown away by a most spine tingling and spooky song which used to be on one of the indie artist music shows on RTE radio. Back in those days they were just as bad as giving information about names of songs and artists as they are now but there was no Google to check the song title and artist or Youtube so that you could get a fix any time you liked. Did find out that it was a mob called “This Mortal Coil” and the title was “Song to the Siren”
It was written by Tim Buckley who was the father of the ubergorgeous Jeff Buckley and both of them came to an untimely demise in the vicinity of water. Coincidence? Izzie does not think so.
Was then on the prowl to snatch this spooky tune for posterity. It was the Wednesday evening of 29th February 1984 that the little red cassette button finally captured the wailing banshee blood curdling voice of Elizabeth Fraser. It became the light at the end of the long miserable tunnel of February and a beacon of hope of better things to come.
If only the Izzie knew at the time that particular February was a picnic compared to what some future years had in store. It is never really possible to know how much of it was a subconscious self fulfilling prophecy but remembers like it was only recently waking up one cold Saturday morning in 1986 feeling all gloomy and doomy and about to pull the covers over and sleep the day away. Then suddenly realized that it was no longer February but the first day of March. The instant charge of energy and enthusiasm was truly scary and of course completely irrational. The mind is a truly strange beast. A tiny change of perspective can make such a big difference.
It was the same tape we chose to play on the evening of Friday 31st December 1999 while watching the last sunset of the year and the millennium (for those folks who aren’t pedantic calendar nazis)
So what better way to commemorate the day than to spend sunset at Cottesloe beach? Especially as the annual Sculpture by the Sea exhibition officially starts tomorrow and most of the works are already there or just need a bit of tweeking
It was a gorgeous sunny and breezy day. Much milder than this time last year and perfect lurking weather for an evening at the beach. The sculptures were an added bonus.
Never did download a copy of the song from itunes as it is there for the listening on Youtube with lots of spooky gothic pictures
After the nasty start to 2012 with the chainsaw massacre at the Lair and the attempt at a reply with the advent of the Chinese Year of the Dragon bringing in seven days of sizzling stinking weather with three in a row at 42 celsius, the last day of February was just the excuse for a sort of New Year’s Eve celebration and bright shiny new beginning for 1st March.
The next time this date falls on a Wednesday will be in 2040 when Izzie will be a shrivelled up old serpent if not already departed from this mortal coil
