Woman – John Lennon

Posted on September 15, 2026 by observationblogger — 9 Comments

This is yet another one of those John Lennon classics which I listened to so much as a kid, but it inexplicably went into the music hinterland. It was only recently, when I was researching John’s other songs, that I was reunited with it. Phew, because this is an out-and-out gem. I think I even appreciate it more than I did back then.

Woman originally appeared on his 1980 album Double Fantasy, and was later included on his posthumous compilation The John Lennon Collection, which our family owned. I don’t know how many times I put the needle down on this record, but it was an obscene amount. We had one of those old wooden turntables which looked like a dresser, and I remember sitting nestled in front of the fireplace listening to it. It was the only post-Beatle record we had.

If I could go back in time, knowing what I know now, I would have pleaded with my parents to buy George’s 1970 masterpiece, All Things Must Pass, until I was blue in the face. But oh well.

John’s voice in Woman is so warm and intimate and contrasts sharply with the aggressive, rebellious tones of some of his earlier work. There is a real vulnerability in his delivery, with his soft, sincere tone and careful phrasing adding to the intimacy of the song. Lennon described the song just three days prior to his death as a “grown-up version” of the Beatles’ “Girl.”

My favourite part of the song is when he sings ‘Ooh-ooh, well, well‘ and then, in the outro, it morphs into the utterly romantic send-off when he declares ‘I love you, yeah, yeah‘. It really is stunning songwriting. Woman really stands on its own, like it’s its own template for a ‘love song’.

You have other love songs, spectacular in their own right – like Chicago’s If You leave Me Now and the Bee Gees’ How Deep Is Your Love, both released a few years before Lennon’s Woman (1980), but there is a commonality in their sound, tone and feeling. Woman, on the other hand, feels utterly distinct – a stand-alone, if you will, in its musical structure, sound and delivery. Its unusual phrasing, the pauses and the way the arrangement leaves space around Lennon’s voice. It’s genius.

The following was abridged from the Wikipedia reference below:

Woman was the second single released from Lennon’s 1980 album Double Fantasy. It was the first Lennon single issued after his murder on 8 December 1980.

Lennon wrote it as an ode to Ono and to all women. The track begins with Lennon whispering, “For the other half of the sky“, a paraphrase of a Chinese proverb, once used by Mao Zedong.

John Lennon said that the song “came about because, one sunny afternoon in Bermuda, it suddenly hit me what women do for us. Not just what my Yoko does for me, although I was thinking in those personal terms … but any truth is universal. What dawned on me was everything I was taking for granted. Women really are the other half of the sky, as I whisper at the beginning of the song. It’s a ‘we’ or it ain’t anything.” 

The single debuted at number three in Lennon’s native UK, then moving to number two and finally reaching number one, where it spent two weeks, knocking off the top spot his own re-released “Imagine“. In the US the single peaked at number two on the Billboard.

[Intro]
(For the other half of the sky)

[Verse 1]
Woman, I can hardly express
My mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness
After all, I’m forever in your debt
And woman, I will try to express
My inner feelings and thankfulness
For showing me the meaning of success

[Chorus]
Ooh-ooh, well, well
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Ooh-ooh, well, well
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo

[Verse 2]
Woman, I know you understand
The little child inside the man
Please remember my life is in your hands
And woman, hold me close to your heart
However distant, don’t keep us apart
After all, it is written in the stars

[Chorus]
Ooh-ooh, well, well
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo
Ooh-ooh, well, well
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, well

[Verse 3]
Woman, please let me explain
I never meant to cause you sorrow or pain
So let me tell you again and again and again

[Outro]
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever
I love you, yeah, yeah
Now and forever

References:
1. Woman (John Lennon song) – Wikipedia

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Natural Disaster – Cory Wells

Posted on September 13, 2026 by observationblogger — Leave a comment

What impacted me most when I heard Natural Disaster was Cory Wells’ translucent and alluring voice. It’s a delicate sound, like he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve, but not in a diminishing or openly sorrowful way. Rather, it has a masculine sensibility, and it feels like what he’s saying is transparent and full of meaning.

You have to hear how the cracks grow much wider towards the end, like the tectonic plates have just offloaded (natural disaster, remember) and he goes all ‘death metal’ by shrieking and screaming. To me, it doesn’t feel over-rendered, just raw and penetrative.

Interestingly enough, the California singer-songwriter’s musical background was in metal and hardcore. He also toured as a member of the post-hardcore band Movements before moving towards a quieter sound and releasing his debut EP, How to Tear Apart the Ones You Love, in 2018.

I just heard another release from the same record, Hopeless, to see if Natural Disaster was a fluke. I can confirm it wasn’t, since that’s a vocal humdinger as well. He has some serious natural talent, this guy.

The lyrics are also striking, and I found them so relatable because if anyone’s a Natural Disaster, it’s me, and he gets it right, yes siree – you know… about personal trauma, guilt, and taking responsibility for the breakdown of a relationship. All the fun stuff.

Hopeless and today’s featured song are from his second album, appropriately titled Harboring the Hurt I’ve Caused (2024).

[Verse 1]
I know it’s not working
The rain just keep falling down
Now nothing feels certain
The pieces aren’t fitting
I’m scared we’re on hollow ground
Don’t close the curtain
There’s cracks in the hardwood
Our footsteps won’t make a sound
When the morning comes
When it all starts to cave in
You’re the one I’m saving

[Chorus]
Caught in a natural disaster
And I am the cause
But we can build it back up again
My hands, they can’t stop from shaking
So I’ll take the fall
What can I say, that I’m sorry
I’m a natural disaster

[Verse 2]
I’m so tired of all the fighting
The shelter in the sillouette of who we were before
I hope you see me trying
I’d die to feel your love again
You give it all a purpose
But I started an earthquake
Our home won’t standing here
When morning comes
When it all starts to cave in
You’re the one I’m saving

[Chorus]
Caught in a natural disaster
And I am the cause
But we can build it back up again
My hands, they can’t stop from shaking
So I’ll take the fall
What can I say that I’m sorry
I’m a natural disaster
I’m a natural disaster

[Refrain]
So when it all starts to cave in
You’re the one I’m saving
Caught in a natural disaster
Built from all my flaws
Gonna burn it all down again
You’re the only fix but I’m breaking
Thought we were stronger
Can’t you see that I’m sorry
I’m a natural disaster

References:
1. Cory Wells – Instagram

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Swirl – My Friend The Chocolate Cake

Posted on September 12, 2026 by observationblogger — 8 Comments

When I was living in Melbourne in the early 2000s, my life consisted of seeking out my two main cultural outlets, which gave me so much joy and sustenance. One was going to see my beloved Richmond Tigers play Australian football, and the second was seeing the Australian music ensemble My Friend the Chocolate Cake.

I can’t think of much music that resonates as strongly with me as the Cake’s and founder/singer-songwriter David Bridie’s. I’m not exaggerating when I say that, when I hear them, I feel this is ‘me’ in music, such is its effect on me. It feels like the fabric of my being and cloaks me like an old, cosy hand-me-down that never gets old or worn. Call me crazy, but that’s the truth.

Today’s featured song, Swirl, is yet another song from one of my all-time favourite Australian records – Curious. What’s curious about Curious is that I received the CD in the mail as a gift after seeing David Bridie perform with Archie Roach. I can’t think of another gift that has brought me as much tranquillity and pleasure as Curious.

To me, Swirl is like hearing the ocean in song. The way the piano begins riding the troughs and peaks, and then a little more wave turbulence comes in until the violin goes screech! Now that’s some introduction. It’s a sound that, in keeping with nature, feels barren and untamed.

Its a land without luxury, cold hearted and ruthless on small talk

The musicianship in the Cake has always been on another level, but it’s on full display in Swirl. The piano has this jumpy, almost anticipatory quality, as if it’s waiting to see where the violin will take everything. Then the harmonica comes in with its ferocity and takes all before it, as if it were a massive ‘swirl’ or whirlpool – the black hole of a murky ravine.

This is what I have always loved about The Cake: how their music, especially their more instrumentally driven tracks, emits an atmosphere – a mesh of sounds which feels wholly ‘Australian’ in both its natural environment and culture.

The only other band that feels as uniquely ‘Aussie’ to my ears and that I have featured here a bunch is The Go-Betweens, but their music is more suburbia-oriented compared to The Cake’s far-reaching, desolate mangrove sound. Whenever I feel homesick and hear one of these bands’ songs on my player, I feel nestled by the heartland of my island home. In literature, for the same effect, it would be reading a Tim Winton novel, like Breath.

Anyways, as always, thanks for reading.

One hundred wildflowers grow out in the desert
They’re sharp and bright coloured tough, rugged and dry
I thought that I’d never find these hideaway places
A glow in the darkness a place you can dream

The sun’s like a razor it lives without mercy
It sucks all the water right out of your bones
Its a land without luxury, cold hearted and ruthless on small talk

Just listen it’s still it’s something quite still.
Your heads spinning just swirl you just swirl

The man with a yearning lives over the mountain
He’s harbouring convicts inside of his heart
When the night is dead quiet he’s awake and he’s listening
he shouts to the hidden monsters out there in the sky

Your head is spinning you just swirl you just swirl away away away

Down there in his soul
Listen its all around
Wrapped around your heart
Like rusted barbed wire

References:
1. My Friend The Chocolate Cake – Wikipedia

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The Man Who Wasn’t There (Soundtrack) – Carter Burwell

Posted on September 11, 2026 by observationblogger — 3 Comments

It was a strange occurrence yesterday when I was reminded of these two closely connected compositional pieces when I listened to a song from Steve’s music blog, Song of the Day, called Your Memory. It took some searching through my music memory bank to locate them, but here they are today.

The pieces from the film The Man Who Wasn’t There are namely I Met Doris Blind and The Trial of Ed Crane, which I have presented below. I am thankful for Steve’s article since it reunited me with this wonderfully solemn and pensive music which I should have had in my music collection from the outset.

The cyclical aspects of the music reflect the protagonist’s emotional emptiness and inability to escape his situation. The music connects so well with the Beethoven sonatas woven throughout the film. I wrote an article on The Man Who Wasn’t There in my Friday’s Finest movie segment in 2022. So it’s only fitting that today’s music from the film comes out on a Friday as well.

This is the second time film composer and long-time Coen Brothers’ collaborator Carter Burwell has appeared here, after his Wicked Flee (based on the gospel hymn Leaning On The Everlasting Arms) piece from the film True Grit.

Burwell has contributed music to 17 of the 18 Coen Brothers’ films. Inside Llewyn Davis is the one he didn’t score. You could say he’s basically been the musical voice of the Coens’ cinematic universe.

References:
1. The Man Who Wasn’t There (2001 film) – Wikipedia

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With Every Wish – Bruce Springsteen

Posted on September 10, 2026 by observationblogger — 4 Comments

There are a myriad of places I could start this article since the song has always elicited intense memories and conjured such stirring emotions.

On a philosophical level, it’s about the perils of chasing your desires, something we are accustomed to seeing as a virtue, but which can, unbeknownst to many, become a curse. In his childhood, it’s ‘Big Jim’ the catfish that throws him overboard; in later life, it’s his obsessive jealousy over a girl he falls for.

On a personal level, when Springsteen mentions ‘Doreen’, the beautiful girl he was swept away by, I can’t help but be cast back to a special someone I was madly in love with – my first ‘proper’ love – a Yorkshire lass called Louise. This song, in that sense, has always been the one that rekindles everything we had together, even if it was truncated when she eventually went home to England. It’s so etched in my mind – the past engraved. A path so strict, I walk.

If I had to limit myself to just five Springsteen songs to take with me for the rest of my journey, I would choose With Every Wish. I could quite contentedly have it on repeat for a good while, which I have done on occasion. It’s hard for me to even describe its effects, since, as I alluded to, it leaves me in a whirlpool of emotions – hope, regret, and thoughts about what you’d do differently if you could restart this play we call ‘life’ all over again.

I always feel a bit jumbled in the head by it – but the real clincher in this song is how it closes. It becomes a hopeful meditation. You have a second chance – you have a thing called redemption by way of an amazing ‘Grace’. Life presents us with hundreds, if not thousands, of opportunities to turn it all around. This is the grace. It’s represented in the song by ‘someone is waitin’ with a look in her eyes‘ – perhaps the ‘angel of the lake’ whose waters will quench your thirst.

This is always where the song leaves me so affected. I like to think that the someone waiting might be Doreen, as if she’s come back to him decades later, even in spirit form, perhaps transfigured with wings like an angel. To think that she’s out there somewhere in the middle of the forest on the other side – like Persephone, who represents ‘rebirth’ and the ‘feminine’ in nature – the embodiment of spring.

With Every Wish is from Bruce Springsteen’s 1992 record Human Touch, released alongside Lucky Town. I always agreed with the Rolling Stone review of the two albums, which argued that ‘the aims of the two albums would have been better realized by a single, more carefully shaped collection’. There are at least ten songs from both albums that could have been combined to form one classic Springsteen album, perhaps rivaling his best ever.

[Verse 1]
Ol’ catfish in the lake, we called him Big Jim
When I was a kid my only wish was to get my line in him
Skipped church one Sunday, rowed out and throwed in my line
Jim took that hook, pole, and me right over the side

[Verse 2]
Went driftin’ down past old tires and rusty cans of beer
The angel of the lake whispered in my ear
“Before you choose your wish, son, you better think first
With every wish, there comes a curse”

[Verse 3]
I fell in love with beautiful Doreen
She was the prettiest thing this old town’d ever seen
I courted her and I made her mine
But I grew jealous whenever another man come walkin’ down the line

[Verse 4]
And my jealousy made me treat her mean and cruel
She sighed, “Bobby, oh Bobby, you’re such a fool
Don’t you know before you choose your wish, you’d better think first?
‘Cause with every wish, there comes a curse”

[Verse 5]
These days I sit around and laugh at the many rivers I’ve crossed
But on the far banks, there’s always another forest where a man can get lost
Well, there in the high trees, love’s bluebird glides
Guiding us ‘cross to another river on the other side

[Verse 6]
And there, someone is waitin’ with a look in her eyes
And though my heart’s grown weary and more than a little bit shy
Tonight I’ll drink from her waters to quench my thirst
And leave the angels to worry
with every wish

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The Captain is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship – Charles Bukowski

Posted on September 9, 2026 by observationblogger — 2 Comments


Well, it’s a pleasure to welcome you back to my Wednesday literature segment. Today I bring you an extract from a book I recently finished called, wait for it…. (deep breath) – The Captain Is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship. You’ve got to hand it to Charles Bukowski for originality. Only he could come up with something as verbose and amplified as that. He even rambles about what it takes to write a title that grabs the book browser by the short and curlies, and means what it says.

He’s got a point too, since the title captures the nonsensical, ad-lib and direct nature of Bukowski’s diary content here. I doubt for most readers, even the speedy ones, the Captain is out for ‘just’ lunch – you’d have to be some bloody genius to finish it in that brief space.

For most of us mere mortal readers, the Captain is most likely shacked up for a couple of days with some woman he dressed up in sailor’s clothes to make the journey incognito, and kept down in the hold so she won’t be thrown overboard by the raging ship’s company.

By the time I finished The Captain…, I realised I hadn’t had this much fun reading a book since, umm… I don’t know… as long as I can remember? And Bukowski turns everything on its head and inside-out, like his reasoning about ‘titles’ above. He discusses in the book itself how his primary aim in writing is to ENTERTAIN the reader and get to the point. Well, he has certainly accomplished that here, and in his blunt unveiling of his approach he gets stuck into some pretty big-name authors.

Bukowski has featured a lot on my blog with regards to his poetry, novels etc., but what’s distinct about The Captain…, and what I really found so gratifying, was that it didn’t have a theme. His diary is pure anarchy in writing form – it’s whatever goes, whatever’s cooking, baby!

It’s just so refreshing to read someone who doesn’t give a sh/t. Sure, Bukowski’s full of sh/t, but there’s an honesty in the lunacy and mania that you have to respect. Also, his manner of wording is spectacular and wildly evocative.

The Captain… was compiled from his personal diary entries and published after his death in 1994, and there’s a feeling of melancholy and circumspection when you are reading them. By the end of it, I felt glum and sad that I wouldn’t be hearing his voice in my mind again.

Kind of like losing a mad Uncle or something, where despite the absurdity of his character, you realise you will never cross paths with someone even remotely like him. But here’s the big catch and paradox: despite his awkwardness and mania, I doubt I’ll find someone whose views are so relatable. And as I grow older, the more relatable he seems.

To use the analogy of a car, Bukowski removes the gloss and lustre – by golly, the entire coat of paint and then the exterior body panels – all the superficiality and façade trapping writers commonly fall into – and just leaves you with the chassis, engine and interior. And that is why, in large part, he is such a revelation in his art form.

Without further ado, I present to you below a seven-page extract from The Captain…. It contains two illustrations from the American comic book artist and illustrator Robert Crumb, whose drawings, along with quotes from the book, are prominent throughout and lend it a witty and humorous visual edge.

For those who are unfamiliar with the German-American poet, novelist and short story writer Charles Bukowski, I point you to one of my favourite biographical documentaries about his life called Born Into This, which can be viewed in full here.

Content Warning: The extract below contains explicit language and delicate themes which may offend some readers.


References:
1. Charles Bukowski – Wikipedia

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December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night) – Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons

Posted on September 8, 2026 by observationblogger — 7 Comments

I’ve never heard so many Italians in all my life. Well, strictly speaking, the Four Seasons were Italian Americans. Their name emerged from a New Jersey bowling alley/lounge called the Four Seasons. Their ethnic background almost became part of their mythology – working-class Italian-American lads.

The last time we visited Frankie Valli here, he was crooning to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. That was co-written by Four Seasons member Bob Gaudio and remained closely connected to the group’s musical circle. It’s a song that is a long way removed from today’s song by the Four Seasons – Oh, What a Night. Yet it too was written by keyboardist Bob Gaudio, this time with his future wife Judy Parker.

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You is irresistibly romantic, while Oh, What a Night is unmitigatingly sexy.

The title Oh, What a Night refers to a one-night encounter, so fleeting that the singer didn’t even know the lady’s name, but hey…. What a lady, what a night. The song, in its feel and tone, resembles that brevity of time and sensation as well. Dancing to it on the disco floor (Boogie Nights era) – or nightclub, as we referred to them in the early 90s – with such elation and abandon, it was always one of the standouts of the evening.

But it remains a bit of an enigma, like the unnamed girl in the song – a fleeting moment that somehow becomes unforgettable. In the morning, the nightclub floor is washed clean of the stench, alcohol and vomit of the previous evening, and the mind slowly clears too, leaving behind only fragments of the night. Yet somehow, amongst all that mess and haze, there remains the memory of a woman who was anything but forgettable.

It’s not a song I really wanted to play at home. I preferred it reserved for the pinnacle dance moments of a night out, and by golly, was it a rush. It was easily the most popular song played at nightclubs during my early adulthood, especially in Canberra, Australia.

Oh, What a Night has such an upbeat groove and jive, and Gerry Polci’s vocals are so irrepressibly smooth, feel-good and animated. It’s such a time-capsule song of that era. It’s cocaine in song form.

Snippets from Wikipedia below:

The song was on the group’s album Who Loves You (1975). It reached number one in Canada, South Africa, the UK and the US. 

The song’s lyrics were originally set in 1933 with the title “December 5th, 1933“, celebrating the repeal of Prohibition in the United States. While the band felt that the instrumental groove would be a hit, they disliked the lyrics and wrote a new set of lyrics.

By Gaudio’s account, the song was a recollection of his and Parker’s first meeting. Parker sought to do this in a way that was family friendly because of the Four Seasons’ (and Parker’s own) clean reputation.

[Verse 1: Gerry Polci]
Oh, what a night
Late December, back in ’63
What a very special time for me
As I remember, what a night

[Verse 2: Gerry Polci]
Oh, what a night
You know, I didn’t even know her name
But I was never gonna be the same
What a lady, what a night

[Chorus: Frankie Valli]
Oh, I, I got a funny feeling
When she walked in the room
And my, as I recall
It ended much too soon

[Verse 3: Gerry Polci]
(Oh, what a night)
Hypnotizing, mesmerizin’ me
She was everything I dreamed she’d be
Sweet surrender, what a night

[Bridge: Don Ciccone]
And I felt a rush
Like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinning my head around
And takin’ my body under
(Oh, what a night)

[Chorus: Frankie Valli]
Oh, I got a funny feeling
When she walked in the room
And my, as I recall
It ended much too soon

[Verse 4: Gerry Polci]
(Oh, what a night)
Why’d it take so long to see the light?
Seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right
What a lady, what a night

[Bridge: Don Ciccone]
Oh, I felt a rush
Like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinning my head around
And takin’ my body under

[Outro: Gerry Polci, Frankie Valli, Don Ciccone]
(Oh, what a night)
Do do do, do do, do do do do
(Oh, what a night)
Do do do, do do, do do do do
(Oh, what a night)
Do do do, do do, do do do do
(Oh, what a night)
Do do do, do do, do do do do…

References:
1. December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night) – Wikipedia

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What Can I Do For You? – Bob Dylan

Posted on September 7, 2026 by observationblogger — 6 Comments
Toronto 1980 – What Can I Do For You

Sometimes you’ve just got to have a bit of Christian Bob to keep you on the straight and narrow. Hearing this this morning was good timing for me too, as the demons stepped out from the shadows and started getting into my noggin. Just like Bob did back in the late 70s / early 80s, I had my own foray into Christianity after the passing of my father in 2003 and got baptised in the sea and everything.

I would now consider myself more of an agnostic-Judeo-Christian who holds dear ‘The Logos‘ (the divine animated force which pervades the Universe and the ‘Word’ made flesh), archetypes, meta-heroes and the spiritual truths of Biblical scripture. I remain very fond of Christian music, as most of my long-time readers could attest, including of course today’s track.

Anyways, back to Bob in his Christian period, where he made three records reflecting his Christian spirituality and devotion at the time. What Can I Do For You comes from the second record of the Christian trilogy called Saved.

Its predecessor, Slow Train Coming, was a little more secular in places, but Saved was all-out evangelical outreach music. There’s some great stuff on it too, including Covenant Woman, Pressing On, & Saving Grace, all of which have featured here.

The biggest bang for buck for me from all the songs has been Covenant Woman. That is a ‘top-shelf’ / ‘drop all tools’ Bob kinda song in my humble estimation, if you aren’t already familiar with it. I wrote the following about it in my Dylanholics Anonymous post:

I always feel the urge to turn my ‘Google Play’ on when I’m riding the bus. Ya know when you want to tune into Dylan while in crowded, uncomfortable surroundings. Sometimes it gets too much and I want to hear something like Covenant Woman for the 100th time….(weeps)

Today’s track may not be in the esteemed league of the aforementioned, but it’s still pretty darn good. Heck, that’s why it’s here today to bless our gracious ears. It’s just a beautifully inspired song that I find poignant and reaffirming. Like I said, it couldn’t have come at a better time for me today, so I’m thankful for that.

I love the lazy keyboard sound in this as well. It conjures images of a kind of third-rate backyard Christian music band set-up, but I like that ‘no frills’ aspect to it because it feels real. Also, special mention to the lovely ladies’ choral backing here, adding that gospel feel. It included singer Carol Dennis, who later married Dylan in 1986. They had mutually agreed to keep their marriage a secret to protect thir daughter, Desiree Gabrielle Dennis-Dylan. The harmonica playing is great on here too, and I love how it meanders towards the end and closes the song so tenderly, but with a certain majestic quality. It’s just so special!

The album Saved hit No. 3 on the UK charts and reached No. 24 in the US. Critical reaction to the album was mixed. Dylan’s sudden departure from contemporary and secular music was a big shock for fans and critics alike. Once again, he was booed often when he performed his new spiritual music in concert. I imagine he couldn’t have given two-sh/ts, and good on him.

People really got stuck into him. Even Kurt Loder for Rolling Stone criticised several of the songs for being hampered by overtly religious messages. He said Dylan’s efforts at a gospel album were not as remarkable as others, “not just because he lacks the vocal equipment but because he’s too inventive, too big for the genre“. Gee wizz. Confused head-shaking-inducing stuff, right?

Now get this….you ready? (drumroll)

In 2020, Rolling Stone included Saved in their list of the “80 Greatest Albums of 1980”, praising Dylan for being “at the peak of his vocal powers, and he’s rarely played with a better bunch of musicians“.

It’s always nice to end an article on a high point.

You have given everything to me
What can I do for You?
You have given me eyes to see
What can I do for You?

[Verse 1]
Pulled me out of bondage and You made me renewed inside
Filled up a hunger that had always been denied
Opened up a door no man can shut and You opened it up so wide
And You’ve chosen me to be among the few
What can I do for You?

[Chorus]
You have laid down Your life for me
What can I do for You?
You have explained every mystery
What can I do for You?

[Verse 2]
Soon as a man is born, you know the sparks begin to fly
He gets wise in his own eyes and he’s made to believe a lie
Who would deliver him from the death he’s bound to die?
Well, You’ve done it all and there’s no more anyone can pretend to do
What can I do for You?

[Chorus]
You have given all there is to give
What can I do for You?
You have given me life to live
How can I live for You?

[Verse 3]
I know all about poison, I know all about fiery darts
I don’t care how rough the road is, show me where it starts
Whatever pleases You, tell it to my heart
Well, I don’t deserve it but I sure did make it through
What can I do for You?

References:
1. Saved (Bob Dylan album) – Wikipedia

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Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd

Posted on September 6, 2026 by observationblogger — 10 Comments

Today we have one of the most famous songs by the English rock band Pink Floyd, and one of the most popular on classic rock radio stations – Wish You Were Here. It’s really a staple of the contemporary music canon and is often found on greatest-of-all-time rock song lists, as well as among the top three of Pink Floyd’s output. Even Gilmour and Waters have praised the song as one of Pink Floyd’s finest.

Wish You Were Here, the title track from Pink Floyd’s 1975 album, along with the album’s opening song, Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Comfortably Numb (1979), and Learning to Fly (1987), are my personal favourites from one of rock music’s pioneering groups, particularly when it came to creating atmospheric music.

Wish You Were Here is more of a rock ballad than a rock song per se, with its slow, reflective tempo and acoustic guitar-led arrangement. I imagine Wish You Were Here would have inspired many wannabe guitarists to pick up a guitar and start playing. Its simple and instantly recognisable acoustic guitar opening makes it one of those songs that a beginner can have a go at without too much difficulty.

The interplay between beauty and dark allegory throughout lends the song a wide-open, almost spatial sense of longing. After all the time that has passed and all that has transpired, the chorus exudes a profound sense of absence and loss, and the desire to be reconnected with that which is no longer here: How I wish, how I wish you were here.

Snippets from the Wikipedia article below:

Guitarist/vocalist David Gilmour and bassist/vocalist Roger Waters collaborated in writing the music, with Gilmour singing lead vocals.

Waters, who mainly wrote the lyrics complementing Gilmour’s initial riff idea and subsequent joint composition, describes the lyrics as being directed at himself. Gilmour, on the other hand, recognises that he never performs the song without remembering Syd Barrett.

Waters has noted that the collaboration between himself and Gilmour on the song was “really good. All bits of it are really, really good. I’m very happy about it.”

He (Gilmour) performed the intro on a twelve-string guitar, processed to sound like it was playing through an AM radio, and then overdubbed a fuller-sounding acoustic guitar solo. This passage was mixed to sound as though a guitarist were listening to the radio and playing along. As the acoustic part becomes more complex, the “radio broadcast” fades away and Gilmour’s voice enters, while the rest of the band joins in.

[Verse 1: David Gilmour]
So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?

[Verse 2: David Gilmour]
Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change? Did you exchange
A walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

[Chorus: David Gilmour]
How I wish, how I wish you were here
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year
Running over the same old ground, what have we found?
The same old fears, wish you were here

References:
1. Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd song) – Wikipedia

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Wirrpangu – Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu

Posted on September 5, 2026 by observationblogger — Leave a comment

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander viewers are advised that this post contains images, voices and names of people who have died.

Most of the songs from the wondrous debut album of the late Australian Aboriginal singer-songwriter Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu have featured here. Wirrpangu (Eng. “Thunder”) is yet another soulful traipse through the spiritual world that Gurrumul and his people inhabit. His voice and the sound of his music are truly unique. I feel privileged hearing his music because it whisks me off to another time and place in my native homeland that I am largely unfamiliar with.

His music is bound up with ancestral stories, family, identity, law and spiritual knowledge. The National Film and Sound Archive notes that Gurrumul’s songs frequently deal with traditional lore and relationships with family and nature. When asked where his songs came from, he spoke of Yolŋu knowledge and stories and said that it “comes from spirit” and that he was “singing from spirit.”

Gurrumul was born blind and played the guitar upside down. Such was his impact on the music scene that, after the release of his debut album, he caught the attention of Elton John and Sting, who both ended up performing on stage with him. Although his solo career brought him wider acclaim, he was also formerly a member of Yothu Yindi, and later Saltwater Band. Since his early passing at just 46 years of age, he has sometimes been referred to as Dr G Yunupingu.

Wirrpangu is sung in Yolŋu Matha, the collective name for the related Indigenous languages of north-east Arnhem Land, Australia. The translation below comes from a Gurrumul songbook/PDF and should probably be treated as an interpretive translation rather than a strictly word-for-word rendering.

Y..i, y..i, y..i, y..i
Wirrpangu dhäya yaka, ngarru ngunha Bawuduwudu Ngaypinyayu / The thunder has formed, there at Bawuduwudu Ngaypinyayu
Dhangurryuna nhanany dupthuwan, bäpiyu Garrawanangu Lilipiyana / Dhangurryu threw it, the python Garrawanangu Lilipiyana
Y..i, y..i, y..i, y..i

Bäpa, bäpawuli, nhätha ngalma ngarru ditjunma Dhamdhamli? / Dad, dear Dad, when will we return to Dhamdham (Goulburn)?
Bili dhawalnydja dhangu wirrpa ngoya / Billy Dhawalnydja dancing around / Because the time for thunder is here
Go ngalma ditjuna Mawiyu / Come, let us return to Mäwi

Wirrpangu dhäya yaka, ngarru ngunha Bawuduwudu Ngaypinyayu / The thunder has formed, there at Bawuduwudu Ngaypinyayu
Dhangurryu nhänany dupthuwan, bäpiyu Garrawanangu Lilipiyana / The thunder sent his mind back, the python Garrawanangu Lilipiyana

Yi, yi, yi, yi

References:
1. Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu – Wikipedia

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