James Taylor: Darker Than Previously Thought

 

I've always really enjoyed James Taylor's "Fire and Rain." Sure, it's mid-tempo Boomer folk, but it's just a great song. But it took me way too long to figure out that it's a bit darker than I had assumed.

The first verse starts as depressingly as we all know it does:

Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone.

Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you.

I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song,

I just can't remember who to send it to.

This was inspired by real life. Taylor had a friend Suzanne committed suicide while he was in London recording an album. His friends didn't tell him right away, fearing that it would interfere with his ability to record. But they told him weeks after the fact.

Then the chorus (we'll come back to that later). 

Then the second verse:

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus, You've got to help me make a stand.

You've just got to see me through another day.

My body's aching and my time is at hand and I won't make it any other way

This was written while Taylor was in rehab, recovering from a heroin addiction. The lyrics are a literal prayer to simply survive one more day. Haunting and harrowing. 

I won't go into the third verse except to say that it's about his failed band and his stay in a mental hospital.

So that's all pretty dark and its history is fairly well-known at this point, but between these verses is the chorus which I always assumed was the hopeful counter-punch. The chorus goes:

I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again.

The "fire and rain" part goes along with the verses - life is sad and turbulent - but, forgive me if this is obvious and I'm the only one- but I always interpreted "I always thought that I'd see you again" as meaning "you're a good friend, I can count on you" - the positive light among the darkness of a fallen world. I only recently realized that "I always thought that I'd see you again" refers to the friend who committed suicide in the first verse. It isn't optimistic, it's mournful and heartbreaking. It's a lament that "In all the storms of life, I thought I had you as a constant and now you're gone" and "What do I do now that the light of my life has been snuffed out?"

Up on the Housetop

I was listening to some Christmas music today and in true Festivus fashion, I have a problem and now you're all gonna hear about it.

One of the staples of this season is the song "Up on the Housetop", an old timey song of which the most famous version is still Gene Autry from 1953.

The chorus goes like this:

Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn’t go.

Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn’t go,

Up on the housetop, click, click, click;

Down through the chimney with old Saint Nick.

Now it's possible that I was asleep during Santa class, but from what I remember, there is no option of joining Santa as he goes down the chimney. There was never a raffle where 2 lucky people get to ride with him in his sleigh nor any myth that Santa would let people go down the chimney with him. This is never presented as an option, so why even ask? Every second you spend thinking up an answer to the question posed by these lyrics is a second wasted.

And a direct question would be bad enough. This song has the audacity to take it further. Rather than "would you go..." it's "who wouldn't go..." Suddenly, I'm taking a census. Ok, what percentage of the population would go up on the roof with Santa and what percentage wouldn't do the thing that never happens anyway and is pointless to ask? Gee, I don't know how to divide the demographics on this.

All that being said, I'm ready to answer the question for myself. I would NOT go up with Santa and through the chimney. First off, I don't like the heights, I don't like roofs and I'm not practiced in walking on them. Secondly, we're told that the way Santa gets through the chimney is by some magic. But is that magic even transferable to others? I don't know, I don't fancy finding out. Nor do I want to find out if the magic protects me from inhaling chimney soot or getting it all over my clothes. Is it up to me to climb slowly down - I don't like the idea of a two story free-fall into either a roaring fire or some cinder blocks.

No. Definitely not. I pass on this whole fake proposition that's never going to happen and doesn't exist as a thing. Sounds like a nightmare. Gene Autry and whoever can do whatever they want on the housetop but as for me, I'd rather be up on the roof with James Taylor.

Merry Christmas, everybody.