Indiscipline -- King Crimson

Guest poem submitted by , the fifth in our 'rock
lyrics' theme:

(Poem #745) Indiscipline I do remember one thing. It took hours and hours, But by the time I was done with it, I was so involved, I didn't know what to think. I carried it around with me for days and days, Playing little games, Like not looking at it for a whole day, And then looking at it, To see if I still liked it. I did! -- King Crimson

[Comments]

I find this little ode to obsession and introversion very cute. When seen
written down like this, rock lyrics are about the last thing that come to
mind.

Being an introvert myself and having known obsession first hand, I can
readily empathise with the feelings expressed here. I'm sure any of you
who's ever been deeply involved with either an object or an idea or a
relationship (or whatever) will understand what the narrator of these lines
is talking about.

Notice how the narrator never gives us a clue about what *is* the "it" that
he/she was so obsessed with. IMHO this really lifts the poem above the
ordinary. Notice also the remarkably original title "Indiscipline"; coupled
with the fact that the poem is in first person, we have the suggestion that
the narrator is laughing at the lack of discipline of his own former
obsessive self.

[Background info]

This poem is the first "stanza" of lyrics to the song "Indiscipline" on King
Crimson's 1981 album _Discipline_. I'm posting the complete lyrics at the
end. The reason I extracted only the first stanza was because I thought it
was beautifully complete as a poem. Also, it is in fact set off from the
rest of the lyrics in the song.

The lines above are not sung, they're simply spoken dramatically to a
bizarre instrumental accompaniment, so bizarre in fact that I cannot
describe it except to say that it manages to sound obsessive.

[About King Crimson]

If there is an avant-garde in rock music that has somehow managed to stay
mainstream and keep a pop sensibility, then King Crimson is the definitive
representative of the movement. Over a 30+ year career (still going strong)
band leader and guiding star Robert Fripp has experimented ceaselessy and
pushed the boundaries of rock like almost no one else.

King Crimson started out being rather similar to other art/prog rock bands
(ELP, Yes, etc) but have kept moving away from that sound. Sadly, none of
the dozens of clever songs that they've come up with over the years gets
airplay on any radio channel I know of, with the lone exception of the
admittedly brilliant "21st Century Schizoid Man" from their debut album.

King Crimson was never really one single rock band; its lineup has gone
through innumerable changes since its 1969 inception with Fripp being the
only constant. The King Crimson that wrote this song consisted of Robert
Fripp, Adrian Belew, Bill Bruford and Tony Levin.

Before you rush out to grab a King Crimson album, let me warn you that as
with any avant-gardist, their output is not exactly uniform in quality.
However, _Discipline_ is highly recommended.

Oh yes, the Encyclopædia Britannica mentions King Crimson, albeit briefly :)

[A note on drugs]

It would be easy to explain away today's poem as "drug influenced".
Unfortunately for such cynics, the fact is that Fripp never did drugs.

Amit.

[Complete lyrics for the song "Indiscipline"]

 I do remember one thing.
 It took hours and hours,
 But by the time I was done with it,
 I was so involved,
 I didn't know what to think.
 I carried it around with me for days and days,
 Playing little games,
 Like not looking at it for a whole day,
 And then looking at it,
 To see if I still liked it.
 I did!

 I repeat myself when under stress I repeat myself when under stress I
 repeat myself when under stress I repeat myself when under stress I repeat

 The more I look at it,
 the more I like it.
 I do think it's good.
 The fact is
 no matter how closely I study it,
 no matter how I take it apart,
 no matter how I break it down,
 It remains consistent.
 I wish you were here to see it.

 I like it!

[thomas adds]

King Crimson's titles are often quite interesting in their own right. Their
debut album (and the source of their moniker) was "In the Court of the
Crimson King" (a tip of the hat to Greig's "In the Hall of the Mountain
King", perhaps?); followups included "Larks' Tongues in Aspic", "Three of a
Perfect Pair", and "Starless and Bible Black". Alert readers will notice
that the latter phrase is from the prologue to Dylan Thomas' play for
voices, "Under Milk Wood"; you can read the said prologue at poem #270.

Joan of Arc -- Leonard Cohen

I've always enjoyed poetry (and prose) that takes an established sequence of
events and offers a different way of interpreting them...

(Poem #744) Joan of Arc Now the flames they followed Joan of Arc as she came riding through the dark; no moon to keep her armour bright, no man to get her through this very smoky night. She said, "I'm tired of the war, I want the kind of work I had before, a wedding dress or something white to wear upon my swollen appetite." "Well, I'm glad to hear you talk this way, you know I've watched you riding every day and something in me yearns to win such a cold and lonesome heroine." "And who are you?" she sternly spoke to the one beneath the smoke. "Why, I'm fire," he replied, "And I love your solitude, I love your pride." "Then fire, make your body cold, I'm going to give you mine to hold," saying this she climbed inside to be his one, to be his only bride. And deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and high above the wedding guests he hung the ashes of her wedding dress. It was deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and then she clearly understood if he was fire, oh then she must be wood. I saw her wince, I saw her cry, I saw the glory in her eye. Myself I long for love and light, but must it come so cruel, and oh so bright? -- Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen's subject material has always been the beauty and pain of
human emotion, and he brings a sensitive and experienced eye to his study.
His songs are often anguished and lonely, yet they're rarely depressing or
bitter; instead, they're permeated by an intense, almost touching faith in
the power of love, an optimism that redeems his superficial bitterness and
brittlety.

Today's allegorical song/poem is very interesting [1]. The theme is handled
more directly than in several other of Cohen's offerings; at the same time,
the poem is less personal, and (perhaps for that very reason) less
gut-wrenching. At first reading it seems irrevocably, inexorably
pessimistic: Joan's death by fire betokens no hint of the healing effect of
love, only its agony. And yet... there seems to be an element of paradox
here, for after all, the historical figure of Joan of Arc [2] is almost the
canonical example of the power of faith in the face of overwhelming odds.
This insight leads us to another, more positive interpretation of the poem:
_despite_ the cruelty and brightness of the fire's embrace, Joan chooses to
accept it, to accept the pain and the suffering, in the hope of redemption
and salvation. This is Cohen's testament; it may be harsh, but it rings
true.

thomas.

[1] In other words, I completely misunderstood its meaning, the first time I
heard it <grin>.

[2] who, incidentally, figures in several of Cohen's song lyrics - see, for
example, "Last Year's Man".

[Moreover]

This the fourth in a series of poems which are actually the lyrics to
popular (or, as the case may be, obscure) songs. I forgot to mention that
the previous member of the series, "Conquistador", by Keith Reid, was a
guest poem submitted by Amit Chakrabarti. Sorry,
Amit.

Conquistador -- Keith Reid

(Poem #743) Conquistador Conquistador -- your stallion stands in need of company And like some angel's haloed brow you reek of purity. I see your armor-plated breast Has long since lost its sheen And in your death mask face There are no signs which can be seen. Though I hoped for something to find I could see no place to unwind. Conquistador -- a vulture sits upon your silver sheath And in your rusty scabbard now the sand has taken seed. And though your jewel-encrusted blade Has not been plundered still The sea has washed across your face And taken of its fill. Though I hoped for something to find I could see no place to unwind. Conquistador -- there is no time, I must pay my respect And though I came to jeer at you, I leave now with regret. And as the gloom begins to fall I see there is no, only all [?] And though you came with sword held high You did not conquer, only die. Though I hoped for something to find I could see no place to unwind. -- Keith Reid

[Comments]

A late 20th century rock music take on Ozymandias -- well okay, not quite
Ozymandias but that's the most glorious I can make this sound. :) Yes, these
lyrics have their warts -- a couple of prominent ones at that -- but hey,
Keith Reid wasn't writing serious poetry; he was writing artful rock lyrics.
Keep that in mind and you'll see that the above represents a fairly high
standard of lyric writing.

The content is fairly straighforward: a mocking look at heroism and vanity
that has come to nought. There are no strained efforts at rhyming, which in
my opinion is a good thing.

[About the song]

This is a Procol Harum song, from their first 1967 album "Procol Harum"
which I think got retitled "A Whiter Shade of Pale" at some point. The group
had a full-time lyricist Keith Reid who didn't sing and didn't play any
instruments. This makes Reid a truly unique member of the rock megafamily.
Reid's job was simply to come up with interesting, fantastic lyrics that
would get with the Art Rock sensibilities of the group.

Art Rock (aka Progressive Rock, aka Prog Rock) was a movement in Rock that
treated the music as an art form; almost always through complex
instrumentation, flashy rapid-fire virtuosic playing and pretentious sci-fi
or fantasy influenced lyrics. But Procol Harum were rather atypical, never
getting flashy or vitruosic in instrumentation or displaying any sci-fi
influence. And unlike almost all other Art Rock groups, they knew how to
treat Classical Music with respect when they did deal with it; for instance
"A Whiter Shade of Pale" makes truly tasteful use of Bach's famous Air from
his Orchestral Suite #3.

The song "Conquistador" is given a melody that is noticably Spanish in feel
but is otherwise regular, if somewhat complex, rock. The music breaks each
stanza up neatly into a long couplet and a quatrain and I've made the line
breaks reflect this pattern above.

[Warts]

I must admit to being mystified by the chorus lines "Though I hoped for.../I
could see no..."; could anyone explain? It sounds great on the song, but
what do these lines mean?

Even more mysterious is the line "I see no, only all" from the last stanza!
What could this possibly mean? I do believe this is what is being sung but
if someone could supply a reasonable alternative please do so.

Amit.

I Come and Stand at Every Door -- Nazim Hikmet

On seeing yesterday's tull poem, Amit Chakrabarti
chimed in with a guest theme - rock lyrics:

(Poem #742) I Come and Stand at Every Door I come and stand at every door But no one hears my silent tread I knock and yet remain unseen For I am dead, for I am dead. I'm only seven although I died In Hiroshima long ago I'm seven now as I was then When children die they do not grow. My hair was scorched by swirling flame My eyes grew dim, my eyes grew blind Death came and turned my bones to dust And that was scattered by the wind. I need no fruit, I need no rice I need no sweet, nor even bread I ask for nothing for myself For I am dead, for I am dead. All that I ask is that for peace You fight today, you fight today So that the children of this world May live and grow and laugh and play. -- Nazim Hikmet

[Comments]

I first learned of this poem listening casually to the album "Fifth
Dimension" by the Byrds. Somewhere in the middle of the poem the lyrics
grabbed my attention and jerked me alert from my state of casual listening.
I remember rewinding and re-listening to the song another couple of times
till I'd got all the lyrics and was seriously impressed.

As it turns out, these words were penned by Nazim Hikmet, one of the
foremost modern Turkish poets. Several artists have turned this poem to song
(the other notable being Pete Seeger), and as far as I could find out all of
them use the same words. It is not clear to me whose English translation the
above is. I would love to know.

Turning to the poem itself: it's the stark imagery in the third stanza that
I find the most moving. The only fellow Byrds enthusiast I know finds the
quote "When children die they do not grow" memorable. I think the conceit of
a little ghost from an alien land wandering around with his desperate plea
is beautiful; contrast this with other conceits seen in antiwar poems.

I'm somewhat puzzled by the choice of the word "fight" in the child's plea
in the final stanza; "work" sounds more right to me. Could any Turkish
reader familiar with the original please comment upon this?

[The Byrds and this song]

It is unfortunate that all but a few ardent classic rock fans know the Byrds
only as "those pleasant 1960's popsters who gave us those feel good tunes
like 'Turn! Turn! Turn!' and did several Bob Dylan covers". Certainly, their
first couple of albums didn't stray too far from this image. The third album
"Fifth Dimension" which was by turns psychedelic, dark, jazzy and sombre
must, therefore, have come as something of a shock in 1966. The Nazim Hikmet
poem is given a slow, dirge-like reading and set to a simple minor key
melody clearly designed to not interfere with the words.

Unfortunately though they were maturing musically by leaps and bounds, the
bandmembers of the Byrds soon broke apart. As a result the Byrds got to
produce only two more albums (after "Fifth Dimension") of superb material
before sinking into relative mediocrity.

Amit.

[Nazim Hikmet]

        b. 1902, Salonika, Ottoman Empire [now Thessaloníki, Greece]
        d. June 2, 1963, Moscow

...one of the most important and influential figures in 20th-century Turkish
literature.

...Nazim Hikmet grew up in Anatolia; after briefly attending the Turkish
naval academy, he studied economics and political science at the University
of Moscow.  Returning home as a Marxist in 1924 after the advent of the new
Turkish Republic, he began to work for a number of journals and started
Communist propaganda activities. In 1951 he left Turkey forever after
serving a lengthy jail sentence for his radical and subversive activities.
From then on he lived in the Soviet Union and eastern Europe, where he
continued to work for the ideals of world Communism.

His mastery of language and introduction of free verse and a wide range of
poetic themes strongly influenced Turkish literature in the late 1930s.
After early recognition with his patriotic poems in syllabic metre, in
Moscow he came under the influence of the Russian Futurists, and by
abandoning traditional poetic forms, indulging in exaggerated imagery, and
using unexpected associations, he attempted to "depoetize" poetry. Later his
style became quieter...

...Although previously censored, after his death in 1963 all his works were
published and widely read, and he became a poet of the people and a
revolutionary hero of the Turkish left. Many of his works have been
translated into English, including Selected Poems (1967), The Moscow
Symphony (1970), The Day Before Tomorrow (1972), and Things I Didn't Know I
Loved (1975).

...the figure of Nazim Hikmet (died 1963) looms large in Turkish poetry.
Expressing his progressive social attitude in truly poetical form, he used
free rhythmical patterns quite brilliantly to enrapture his readers; his
style, as well as his powerful, unforgettable images, has deeply influenced
not only Turkish but also progressive Urdu and Persian poetry from the 1930s
onward.

        -- EB

[Minstrels Links]

(Anti-)War poems:
Poem #132, "Dulce Et Decorum Est", Wilfred Owen
Poem #232, "Insensibility", Wilfred Owen
Poem #288, "Futility", Wilfred Owen
Poem #321, "Strange Meeting",   Wilfred Owen
Poem #385, "Base Details", Siegfried Sassoon
Poem #535, "The Working Party", Siegfried Sassoon
Poem #395, "Naming of Parts", Henry Reed

Reasons For Waiting -- Ian Anderson

Guest poem sent in by Krishnan Srinivasan

(Poem #741) Reasons For Waiting What a sight for my eyes to see you in sleep. Could it stop the sun rise hearing you weep? You're not seen, you're not heard but I stand by my word. Came a thousand miles just to catch you while you're smiling. What a day for laughter and walking at night. Me following after, your hand holding tight. And the memory stays clear with the song that you hear. If I can but make the words awake the feeling. What a reason for waiting and dreaming of dreams. So here's hoping you've faith in impossible schemes, that are born in the sigh of the wind blowing by while the dimming light brings the end to a night of loving. -- Ian Anderson

"Reasons For Waiting"  is a song written by Ian Anderson and appears on
Jethro Tull's second album, "Stand Up".  To me this song has an ethereal
quality that comes through even on paper - the music is quite lovely too,
featuring acoustic guitar, flute and strings. There's not a lot that needs
to be read into these words - it's romantic, and describes feelings and
thoughts in a very special and touching way... valentine's day may be past,
but i am sure no one could resist being told that you came a thousand miles
just to catch them while they were smiling...

This is from Jethro Tull's second album, "Stand Up".  The album itself is an
interesting mix of hard rockers, bluesy jams and  folksy ballads like this
one - the band hadn't quite achieved the refinement seen in later (and more
commercially successful) albums like Heavy Horses, Thick As A Brick and
Aqualung, which is probably what makes it one of my all time favorites.

- Krish Srinivasan

Links:

Here's Anderson's biography: [broken link] http://j-tull.com/IAbiog.htm

from the official Tull website: http://www.j-tull.com/