Casualties: A Reflection on "Crazy Heart"

Last night I went to see "Crazy Heart", the new movie in which Jeff Bridges plays a 57-year old formerly successful country singer, whose alcoholism is progressing while he's falling in love and watching his younger protege Tommy Sweet (Colin Farrell) achieve stardom.

A charismatic performer with a handful of hit songs, Bad Blake manages to pull himself together (more or less) onstage, backed by pick-up bands in bowling alleys and tiny clubs. But between gigs he's bored, drunk and bitter, enlivened by his new love (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and her little boy, but not much else.

Disillusioned by the fact that he's not headlining for big crowds in huge stadiums, he's oblivious to the enduring admiration of the fans who gather in the rooms he's actually playing...and blind as well to the awe-inspiring beauty of the American Southwest that accompanies him on his solo drives from town to town.

While most of the singer-songwriters I know never have played huge stadiums, many of us share some of Bad's self-defeating characteristics. Whether or not we abuse alcohol or drugs, we're prone to self-pity and apt to wish we were somewhere else. We often compare ourselves to others, even if the other singers we're comparing ourselves to are only marginally more successful than we are. Many wind up in financial trouble, relationship trouble, or both.

In Bad's case, his early career success is enough to provide him with at least some financial options (opening for Tommy Sweet at the stadium, writing songs for him to record). But artists who have never achieved any level of commercial success--and there are many more of them these days--are at risk of the same kind of depression and addiction problems as Bad Blake, but with less likelihood of a happy ending. Reflecting on that, I wrote this lyric last year:

There I go, corkscrew down
Another go-round in a same-song town
There I go, whining again
Stuck in the mud of the might-have-beens
I’m making a mess of my melodies
Investing in my insecurities
Like all of the wasted and wannabes
Don’t count me among those casualties

Bad Blake I am not: no hits, no stadiums in my past or future, and no alcohol or drug problem...and yet I know how he feels. So, what do I do about that? Here are a few things that help:

- Practicing gratitude: for life, for love, for my existing audience, for music, for the beauty of each day
- Caring for the people I love, including myself
- Eating well, exercising
- Meditating and deepening my spirituality
- Living by the Serenity Prayer: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

These mental and spiritual health habits (which Bad Blake starts to use at the end of the film) also help me see that I'm not "bad" at all (as neither is he) if I do not achieve whatever success I had hoped for in music.

To quote one of the fine songs written by the late Stephen Bruton for the film: "I used to be somebody, now I'm somebody else". The challenge facing many of us is not figuring out how to achieve fame and fortune--but how to live well, even if we don't. To simply live well as a loving, responsible human being--neither larger-than-life nor smaller.

T.H.I.N.K.

I heard a helpful bit of wisdom today that's been around awhile but was new to me. "THINK before you speak" is attributed to the English clergyman Alan Redpath (1907 - 1989).

His idea was simple. Before you speak, ask yourself if what you're about to say is:

T = True
H = Helpful
I = Inspiring
N = Necessary, and
K = Kind

The advice is well-timed for me, because just yesterday, I caught myself saying a few things that, well, I should have "THINKed" about first. It's helpful for me to have this acronym in my life right now.

It can also be a good yardstick to use while sizing up new songs, new blog posts, Facebook comments...you name it.

At a time when there's more communication than ever, THINKing can help prevent harmful misunderstandings and unnecessary conflict.

These Friends, My Songs

Before most gigs, I write up a set list. Even though I inevitably rearrange the order of songs when I’m onstage, adding some and subtracting others, I find that the timely creation of a set list centers and calms me, giving me a sense of competence and purpose and soothing my pre-show nerves.

As I type up the lists of familiar song-titles, it occurs to me that I have come to think of these songs as friends, of a sort. Each song name carries with it a set of associations: experiences we have shared, places we have been.

Like human friends, each song has its own unique characteristics: things I love about it and traits that sometimes pose a challenge. As the years go by and I spend more time with each song in turn (each performance not unlike a shared cup of coffee) I get to know it better, and my appreciation and understanding of it deepens—unless, of course, we ultimately decide that we just don’t get along and we part ways.

These friends, my songs, hang around in groups. Certain ones stick together on set lists from year to year, complementing each other in particular ways. Sometimes one seems to introduce me to another, or to a whole new bunch. Other songs are loners. I might never write another one like it, and as a result it holds a special place in my life.

As a child, I liked to write lists: my favourite books, records, foods…lists of names for future children and pets…and lists of friends. I identified “best” friends, and as I look at my set lists now, certain ones do stand out as favourites. On the other hand, as an adult I now recognize that each friend plays a special and unique role in my life, so ranking them seem unnecessary. Anne helps me understand marriage and family. Rachel always makes me laugh. When I need peace and comfort, I turn to Mary.

I feel especially close to the songs I’ve known during the decade or so I’ve been singing professionally. Other songs existed before that, but they’re like childhood friends and I’m in touch with only a few of them now. Once in awhile, a forgotten song turns up unexpectedly. A page of lyric falls out of a file folder, like a grade school buddy saying hello on Facebook.

But new friends, they’re the most exciting. The heady rush of discovering a new song feels just like the jump-start of any new relationship. With a new song, you get the kind of excitement you’d get with a new love affair, but without all the messy complications. Plus, songs cannot get jealous of each other. In the set list of life, there’s always room for more.

As I try to balance the many responsibilities of my life, I often feel that I’m not attending adequately to all my human friends. I feel that way about songs at times too—that I'm neglecting them. I’m aware that my semi-regular performing schedule allows some of us to get together only a few times a year.

When I feel this way, the best antidote is a long, private music session in which I play all the songs I know…inviting in as many as I can think of. Reacquainting myself with each of them, I feel reconnected to myself—the stories, settings and observations that make life so rich.

So I gather these friends around me as often as I can, knowing that they won’t always be with me or (more accurately) me with them. They entertain me, give me courage, reflect my deepest feelings, lift me up when I’m down. I am grateful that at times they do the same things for other people. But even when I am the only person they keep company, these friends, my songs, serve me well.

Baffled Songwriters in Cyberspace

This article was first published on Roots Music Canada on January 3rd.


The word was “rhapsody”.

I was looking for a rhyme for it. Ever since I was twelve years old, I’ve puzzled over lyric lines, looking for the right word to fit into the right space.

When I get stuck, or I’m feeling lazy, sometimes I pick up a rhyming dictionary. I have a pocket-sized hardback Webster’s that I like. But on this particular day, it wasn’t on my desk.

So, in a move that reflects the Internet’s increasing influence, I idly typed “What rhymes with ‘rhapsody’?” into Google. To my horror, I discovered a website with hundreds of rhyming questions, posted by modern-day poets and songwriters hoping to be rescued by social networking.

We are entering a new age. Writers used to take long walks, fill blank notebooks, and mentally scroll through the alphabet letter by letter, searching for the best word to complete a verse. Today, aspiring poets and songwriters type in questions such as “What rhymes with trampled?”

Before I go on, I should tell you that according to the website I consulted , a good rhyme for “rhapsody” is “crap city” . Unfortunately that didn’t work very well in my song. But it didn’t matter, because, thus distracted, I suddenly found myself much more interested in the would-be verses of the online community than in my own ballad.

As I scanned the list of questions, I found myself feeling a deepening kinship with my fellow poets worldwide. "What rhymes with frankincense?" wrote one. (I typed in "common sense", trying to be helpful.) “What rhymes with urbanization?” wrote another. (Hmm…"colonization", "state of the nation", "rate of inflation”?)

Some writers seemed genuinely confused, such as the one who asked, "What is a word that rhymes with both big and wall?". Others were simply asking too much, such as the one who inquired, "What rhymes with the element ytterbium?”

Now, I admit, some words are very difficult to rhyme, and as a serious songwriter, I know how hard it can be to make them work. I honestly wish the best for the guy writing a song about rodeos, and I sympathize with the poet who's committed to 'audiovisual'. But sometimes you have to change course, let a beloved word go, try another idea. For the sake of the song, move on!

I think of the great lyricists of days gone by, people like Ira Gershwin and Cole Porter . Of course they got stuck on words, of course they struggled to find rhymes! They didn’t type them into the Internet, hoping to be bailed out. I doubt that Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan do today, either.

To be fair, it’s clear that many of these anonymous, online rhyme-seekers are children. In fact, they’re probably the same age I was when I started writing poetry and songs. As I look over their questions, I can’t help but think that our wired society is failing them. Wouldn’t it be best if the boy who typed “What is a magical person that rhymes with lizard?” came up with the answer on his own? Is there a sadder commentary on the current state of storytelling than the question “What rhymes with tuffet?”

One of my favourite baffled cyber-poets was the person writing about bonfire night. Over the course of an evening, he or she posted two specific questions: “What is a word that rhymes with rocket and is related to bonfire night?" followed, several hours later, by the equally vexing "What rhymes with colours that has to do with bonfire night”? (Mmm… crullers , anyone?)

O bonfire night writer, ye of little faith! If you are moved to write about that bonfire, you can stoke the sputtering embers of your imagination to come up with crackling words on your own! Instead of consulting Answers.com, invoke the spirits of every poet who’s ever moved you, whether it’s Joni Mitchell or Bob Marley , William Shakespeare or Fiona Apple . They would tell you: there are as many ways to write about bonfires as there are people in the world, but only you can write your poem. It is your own answers you are looking for, and they cannot be found on the Internet.

Finally, to the girl or boy who wrote “What golf words rhyme with Grandpa?” I would say: run away from the computer, pick up paper and pen and write down every “golf word” you know (ball, swing, hole, club, tee…) and every “Grandpa word” you know (tall, strong, old, loves…me!). Connect them up in a way that you like, and see what a wonderful poem you will have made.

Take your time, when you need a rhyme. Your brain is still the greatest search engine of all. It can help you find a rhyme for “rhapsody”…or maybe something even better (“rhapsody” reminding me too much of a Burton Cummings song anyway) as it finally did for me.