Deixa-me rir...

Caros Audiophiles, this week I return to my occasional theme of a musician who is generally associated with one particular song.

In this case, a song which transcended its folk roots to become a hugely popular hit. Many people may not remember his name, but nearly everyone knows the song.

Ralph McTell is an English folk songwriter for over forty years. Within folk music circles he is as much a national treasure as, let's say, Elton John in the pop world. Like all the best songwriters, he is a fine observer of the world around him and the people who inhabit it, and of the internal complex nuances of our minds, and he has the ability to express these honestly and with sympathetic humanity and humour.

The song he is best known for is Streets Of London. Composed in 1969 it achieved popular and international recognition in 1974. But its themes of poverty and destitution and loneliness, the hidden underbelly that an ostensibly wealthy city prefers to forget, remain relevant today. In fact, as if to mark this timeless quality, my chosen video stitches together several versions of the song through the decades of Ralph McTell's career. There is also a charming interview with McTell about the origin of the song and what it means to him.

Have you seen the old man in the closed-down market

Kicking up the paper with his worn out shoes?

In his eyes you see no pride, hands held loosely at his side,

Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news.

So how can you tell me you're lonely, and say for you that the sun don't shine?

Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London,

I'll show you something to make you change your mind.

Have you seen the old girl who walks the streets of London

Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?

She's no time for talking, she just keeps right on walking,

Carrying her home in two carrier bags.  

In the all night cafe, at a quarter past eleven,

Same old man is sitting there on his own,

Looking at the world over the rim of his tea-cup,

Each tea lasts an hour, then he wanders home alone.

Have you seen the old man outside the Seaman's Mission,

Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears?

In our winter city, the rain cries a little pity

For one more forgotten hero, and a world that doesn't care.

Ralph McTell's songs deserve to be much more widely recognised. I love so many, but I would like to present one more here which I think exemplifies his understanding of humanity and his songwriting skills. Even though he was still young when he wrote it, it is a wise reflection upon a married couple who have grown old together, seen through the eyes of the man and his infidelities and insecurities who has come to appreciate his wife as the rock upon which his life is built.

It is, I think, the most romantic love song one could ever hope to hear. The song is called Naomi.

Age has made her frail,  I'm scared to take her in my arms
But there's an understanding now, and a peace behind the eyes
And age is for complaining, but you won't hear much from me
Growing old with Naomi

Now I recall the first time I took her in my arms
At times I was unfaithful
She said: "no future in the past", so we don't talk about it
She keeps a gentle edge on me
I don't mind growing old with Naomi

She wasn't all I wanted
But she's all I'll ever need
Oh, a rich man always wants some more
And I was rich indeed
A rich man and a poor fool
Yet it turned out right for me
How lucky can you get?
Growing old with Naomi

The kids today, they think that they've discovered everything
But me and her, well we'd done it all, without a wedding ring
Sometimes things remind us, and she's smiling back at me
It isn't hard growing old with Naomi

She wasn't all I wanted
But she's all I'll ever need
Oh, a rich man and a poor fool
And I was rich indeed
I never thought her beautiful
But I do now, because I see
I'm getting wiser
Growing old with Naomi

Oh, the place is kind of quiet now, the kids have all left home
We'd like to see more of them, but we're grateful when they call
And in the quietness afterwards she comes and sits by me
Makes me feel like a man
Growing old with Naomi

 

 

A proxima.

 

PO