I’m back in Paris now (sitting in Café Delmas in Place de la Contrescarpe as I type this) and I decided to finish the song. It goes like this, a kind of Jacques-Brel-meets-Johnny-Cash pastiche, maybe. The first two lines are phonetic approximations of the original:

Down and Out

I haven’t been to Nashville,
I’m still sleeping by the Seine,
But every time my luck’s run out
It’s run right back again.

I have walked the road from Vicksburg
Down to Tenessee
Up and down this lonely river
Chained to old Par-ee.

  Oh come you rhapsodies,
  Storms and symphonies,
  Come the morning calling out my name.
  On the western breeze,
  From the balconies,
  Won’t somebody holler out my name?

I was high-brow to my first wife,
I’ve been low-brow to the rest.
They bought me books and cowboy boots
Now they’re all that I’ve got left,

And a suitcase full of memories,
And a wilderness of dreams,
And faith that life won’t leave me here
After what it’s done to me.

  Oh, it’s no good for me,
  I need company,
  Just to hear somebody call my name.
  On the western breeeze,
  From the balconies,
  Won’t somebody holler out my name?

When my wandering days are over,
When the whiskey starts to burn,
I will strap myself to a big balloon
Straight out of Jules Verne,

And if they don’t arrest me,
By God I’ll try my best
To unlive everything I’ve done
And dream myself back west.

  Oh come you rhapsodies,
  Storms and symphonies,
  Come the morning calling out my name.
  On the western breeze,
  From the balconies,
  Won’t somebody holler out my name?

The tune is quite jolly, a bit like “Flowers on the Wall” by the Statler Brothers. There’s a website where you can download it, but it requires signing up, and as it’s been in my head for seven years anyway I’m disinclined to fork out for a subscription.

If you’re a country singer yourself, or you know someone who is, and you think these words could be put to any use, please feel free to get in touch. I’d love to hear them sung, silly though they may be.

Comments are welcome.

He was looking for the images used in the posters and hoped I could help him. He needed a hi-res version of the picture, because he wanted to get a tattoo done.

The rest is history I suppose. I could easily help him out: the poster image was based on a photo taken for the show by Magnus Arrevad, and featured Chris Clyde Green, who performed in the show. All photoshoppery was done by me, so yeah, no problem, I had the original colour pictures and files for the posters as well.

I’m massively flattered of course. It’s just one guy’s left arm, but it’s a hell of a tribute to some artwork which I always liked but never thought would be around in any form that might last a lifetime. And it’s a tribute to the enduring draw of the blues and its iconography as well, and to Robert Johnson (100 years old this year, by the way).

And as for Chris, who was in the original photo, he’s seen it but I haven’t heard back from him yet. I don’t know how he feels about it but I reckon the word “stoked” has probably never been more appropriate. That and probably a bit bewildered.

Anyway, it’s not Chris, it’s Robert Johnson, and it looks like he’s got some serious walking to do.

Here’s the original poster image alongside the tattoo (which is not quite finished in fact, and I’ll post the finished article up here when I get it):

Original photography by Magnus Arrevad.

The incident is soon to be dramatised by Alan Bleasdale for BBC television, but it’s unlikely to have half as much heart as this poignant production.

That day has finally come, and this Thursday the BBC is going to be showing the first part of Bleasdale’s drama about the sinking.

I’ll be watching, hoping that the reviewer’s prophesy comes true, and no doubt envying the budget, with which they’re presumably going to recreate the sinking of a liner as well as the surfacing of a U-Boat, while we were once quite content with “a fractured lifeboat on a shiny floor against a marine backcloth.”

“Just listen to the music in the order that I’ve recorded it. Get the records, sit down and dig.”

With that in mind I’ve created the following playlist on Spotify:

Thelonious Monk Chronologically

I am indebted to this excellent discography in making this list.

It’s reasonably complete, with all the studio albums in there, including the final sessions made in London on the Black Lion label. What’s missing sadly are a great deal of live recordings released on small labels made on tour in Europe and Japan throughout the 60s. Many have yet to be issued on CD, never mind digitally, I imagine.

Why did I do this? Well, I’m working on a rather secret (oops!) new theatre project involving Monk. Can’t reveal too many details just yet, but it’s going to be quite special, I hope.

Intrigued? Well, you may do the Facebook thing, or follow my RSS and you’ll be the first to know when I can announce more details.

Now go in peace.

My profile is here, with some playlists I already had linked up on my website, and possibly more to come.

You’ll need to download the new version of the program.

I finished the first draft at the weekend, and emailed it off to the show’s original producer (and got paid instantly – thanks Peter). I had originally promised to get it to him in January.

The play now has two acts and a cast of 12 playing 20 speaking parts and a few more besides, and will run for about two and a half hours plus an interval.

The original version told the story of some of the people who found themselved marooned in a lifeboat following the sinking of the Laconia in 1942. The play began with the torpedo striking and the abandon ship, and ended when the few survivors sighted land. The new version keeps much of the original text, but adds a first act set mostly on board the Laconia while on its final voyage.

It’s a very neat separation (which wasn’t my idea), and means, in broad terms, that the audience will hopefully have a far greater emotional engagement in the lives of the characters whenever the second act comes and they are thrust into crisis.

It’s also meant that I’ve had to invent a lot more of the story: some very detailed accounts of the lifeboat journey have been written by the survivors; not much has been written about what happened on ship (other than eating, drinking, fighting and dysentery – all of which feature in the new script).

I don’t have enough distance from it yet to know how I feel about the new work, but I have a feeling that it’s a huge development on the original, which I have always been immensely satisfied with.

Once it’s been redrafted a few times and everyone’s happy with it, the next step will be to find a producer or production company and a theatre for it. It won’t necessarily be easy, as it’s not going to be a cheap production, but I’m confident.

Hopefully it will find a home somehow, and we will be able to have as many of the amazing original cast back together as possible.

Watch this space…

As far as I can tell so long as that problem is blocked everything works more or less okay, although the image slideshows on each of the play pages don’t work at all anymore, or they don’t on my computer.

I’m working on solving all these problems. In the meantime I hope my website doesn’t do anything malicious to anyone that visits.

The other is called Bedside table, and is a list of stuff that I’ve either been listening to recently or am planning on listening to soon.

…just in case anyone’s interested.