Yesterday was the nineteenth anniversary of me coming to live with Kelley in this country. You’ve already heard the sappy song I wrote and sang for her while we were apart, so I won’t put that one up again. But for those who like that sort of thing, here’s another song about lurve, “Corner for You.”
http://www.nicolagriffith.com/audio/player.swf
(direct link)
The song, brief as it is (4:44), has a convoluted history. (What doesn’t?) I wrote the lyrics as a poem when I was 17, madly in love with my first girlfriend, Una, and aware, dimly, that I was losing her. I wrote about this in And Now We Are Going to Have a Party. That story is one of two readings from the memoir that I have on video. Here it is:
(Video by David Wulzen. For the other video, see this post.)
Then, in 1982, when I was 21, the band I was in, Janes Plane, turned the poem into a song. I have a live recording of that on a battered old cassette tape. I keep meaning to transfer it to digital, but everytime I remember, I can’t find the old boombox to play the tape. I’ll get to it at some point. (And, oh, you’ll be sorry. It was a terrible performance by the band. I was sick as a dog–I literally had to keep leaving the stage to throw up–and the drummer’s kit kept breaking and the guitarist’s tuning pegs losing their integrity.) For now, though, what I have is another version recorded on an old boombox (not the same one that’s in my loft–no, the English one was even more primitive) by me and the guitarist, Jane, when I was 22 or 23.
“Corner for You” is a hopelessly melodramatic and angsty teen soon about love and loss and I like it anyway.
I like it too. If it weren’t for teen angst, no love would ever grow at all. We’d be all inhibited and cool at the same time, probably forever. It hurts like hell when someone stops loving you, regardless of age, wisdom or sophistication. The French expression “cri de couer” has always moved me, just as your song does. Boy, that Jane sure can play the guitar.
Ouch. Definitely angsty, but I liked it too. For a second there I thought you were going to tell us that you made a new recording of it. I wonder if Una regrets her choice. Worked out good for us tho – maybe you would never have made it to Clarion and Kelley and the US if Una hadn’t hurt you.I can’t hear an Elvis Presley song now without thinking of that story of you and Una. But one of these days, I want to hear you say “arse” out loud.Anyway, thanks for sharing that.
barbara, she certainly can. I wish I knew where she was today. I’d love to thank her all over again.jennifer, Una regret her choice? I doubt it. I heard a few years ago that she’s happily married with a zillion kids and a thriving business. (Things change, of course, and one person’a notion of ‘happy’ might not be the same as another’s, and I haven’t actually seen Una for thirty years.) The sex, on the other hand, well, I imagine some nights she might lie awake missing that :)
Happy Anniversary!
Thank you. We had a lovely evening, involving a delicious 1998 Rioja Gran Reserva.
All this talent is so INTIMIDATINGLY beautiful. Such melody, such prose. Cuts like a razor but feels oh so good. :)
Fear and trembling not necessary. Awe is okay :)