Facebook gets a lot of crap, and rightly so. What used to be a chance to keep up with your friends has degraded into a sewer of cheap ads and AI slop. I deleted the app off my phone yesterday — not worth the bother.
But Facebook is great as a mnemonic device. Every morning I check it on the Imac, to see what was going on in years past. Eighteen years and counting; 18 years, flushed down the Facebook toilet.
For instance, exactly 10 years ago my literary guide to recovery, "Out of the Wreck I Rise," written with Phaidon editor Sara Bader, was published. I've been seeing the various stabs at publicity I took, trying to market the book, and Wednesday saw this post, written for a web site called "Largehearted Boy," which asked me to join the likes of T.C. Boyle, Brett Easton Ellis and Amy Bloom in offering up a playlist that "relates in some way" to my newly published book.
For instance, exactly 10 years ago my literary guide to recovery, "Out of the Wreck I Rise," written with Phaidon editor Sara Bader, was published. I've been seeing the various stabs at publicity I took, trying to market the book, and Wednesday saw this post, written for a web site called "Largehearted Boy," which asked me to join the likes of T.C. Boyle, Brett Easton Ellis and Amy Bloom in offering up a playlist that "relates in some way" to my newly published book.
I didn't have to be asked twice. Music is not only a key to recovery — well, my recovery anyway — but a number of songs are quoted in the book. I would have quoted more, if we could have secured the permissions.
While my blog page has been grinding along since 2013, I was pleased to see that Largehearted Boy, written by Brooklyn author David Gutowski, is still at it, having begun practically in the antediluvian, 2002.
I would have sworn I'd posted this list on EGD at some point — I did a post on my diabetes playlist — but never have. So this is a good moment to correct that oversight. It is, by necessity, a decade out of date. New additions would include "Sober," by Tool, which is playing Riotfest Sept. 19. Not that it is a new song, mind you — it was recorded in 1993. But I only recently heard it for the first time. I'm a fan of its sinuous bass line and, for some reason I can't explain, the line, "Jesus, won't you fuckin' whistle?"
While my blog page has been grinding along since 2013, I was pleased to see that Largehearted Boy, written by Brooklyn author David Gutowski, is still at it, having begun practically in the antediluvian, 2002.
I would have sworn I'd posted this list on EGD at some point — I did a post on my diabetes playlist — but never have. So this is a good moment to correct that oversight. It is, by necessity, a decade out of date. New additions would include "Sober," by Tool, which is playing Riotfest Sept. 19. Not that it is a new song, mind you — it was recorded in 1993. But I only recently heard it for the first time. I'm a fan of its sinuous bass line and, for some reason I can't explain, the line, "Jesus, won't you fuckin' whistle?"
Though if you look at the video — a creepy piece of claymation — linked in the title, they change the obscenity, timidly, in my book, to "Jesus, won't you try and whistle?" I've linked to YouTube videos in all the titles. If you want me to triage the best, I'd say the top three would be Pink's — an eyeful, and I don't mean the establishing shots of gloomy Stockholm; "Some People Change," which is slickly done; and "Lust for Life," with the manic energy of the film.
"Liquor Slave" by Lucky Dube
One of the keys in understanding addiction is that it is not a bad choice, but an obsession. You don't destroy your life through substances because you're stupid, but because you're compelled, enslaved, or as the late South African reggae star sings, "a slave, a slave, a liquor slave."
"S.O.B." by Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats
Part tent revival, part 1950s demon rum scare movie, this hand-clapping surprise 2015 hit puts to music the give-it-to-me-now imperative and intensity of addiction, both the shrugging plunge, complete with shaking hands, crawling bugs and breaking hearts at the realization, even through the fog of intoxication: "This can't be me."
"Cold Turkey" by John Lennon
The former Beatle's agonized trek through heroin withdrawal, complete with desperate, groaning screams. "I promise you anything, get me out of this hell." In our book, which creates a mosaic connecting one thought to another to convey a narrative, it leads directly to Christopher Marlowe's: "Why this is hell, nor am I out of it."
"Detox Mansion" by Warren Zevon
In perhaps the most famous song about recovery, "Rehab," Amy Winehouse never gets there, with tragic results in her real life. For all the hard-partying rock stars, there are very few songs about actually going to rehab. "Detox Mansion," is among the best, conveying the weary cynicism mingled with hope that so often greets recovery. "I'm gone to Detox Mansion, way down on Last Breath Farm," sings Zevon, who struggled with alcoholism for decades, and was sober for 17 years before relapsing hard at the end of his life after he was diagnosed with cancer.
"Sober" by Pink
The pop pride of Philadelphia asks what is an essential question in recovery: "how do I feel this good sober?" Addicts must not only stop using, but construct a life they feel good about, where they find the kind of joy they used to find in substances. In the song, Pink sees herself clearly, a party girl running out of time, determined that this is not the way she wants her story to end.
"Some People Change" by Montgomery Gentry
This country duo is known for its smart, contemporary songs, blending faith and courage. "Some People Change" offers something that can be in short supply with the frequent reversals of recovery: hope. It limns the grimness of alcoholism in a few concise lines, the simultaneous submitting and hating that you're submitting, then celebrates those who can re-write the story of their lives: "Here's to the strong. Thanks to the brave. Don't give up hope. Some people change."
"Fallen" by Sarah McLachlan
A song that manages to be despairing and triumphant at the same time. "Better I should know"—in four words, the Lilith-fair founder deflates the regret that those who have "sunk so low." feel at being forced to give up their addictions and confront their broken lives even though "there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed." But there is, for many, as the Canadian balladeer reminds us.
"New South Wales" by Jason Isbell
Sometimes you just get sick of being sick. Isbell takes the details of recovery, the coffee and the posters, the slogans and the meetings, and find them good. Giving up his old life "holds no trace of sorrow," while the program ferrying him to his new life offers salvation. "God bless the busted boat that brings us back."
"Mariner's Song" by Cowboy Junkies
A beautiful song about loss and yearning, with that trademark fluttering mandolin. It might have nothing to do with recovery, but I chose to hear it that way. "I look for you in every crest I ride, with every trough I travel through" conveys the way the thing stays with you. But one line in particular sums up the best reason to keep on the straight path. "The last of man's great untamed beasts"—what could that be?—"lies lapping at my door. And I would be happy to give it what it wants, but I do know it would just ask for more."
That's it. As tempting as going back might be, there's no end to it. The beast would just ask for more.
"Lust for Life" — Iggy Pop
Trainspotting, Danny Boyle's movie about the Edinburgh drug scene might ask "Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?" but if you listen to the song playing over the opening credits, Iggy Pop's bass-drum driven "Lust for Life," you get a quick course in the pleasure of breaking with all those Johnnies and their enticements. "No more beating my brains, with liquor and drugs," Iggy sings, and makes us want to bounce along with him.
One of the keys in understanding addiction is that it is not a bad choice, but an obsession. You don't destroy your life through substances because you're stupid, but because you're compelled, enslaved, or as the late South African reggae star sings, "a slave, a slave, a liquor slave."
"S.O.B." by Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats
Part tent revival, part 1950s demon rum scare movie, this hand-clapping surprise 2015 hit puts to music the give-it-to-me-now imperative and intensity of addiction, both the shrugging plunge, complete with shaking hands, crawling bugs and breaking hearts at the realization, even through the fog of intoxication: "This can't be me."
"Cold Turkey" by John Lennon
The former Beatle's agonized trek through heroin withdrawal, complete with desperate, groaning screams. "I promise you anything, get me out of this hell." In our book, which creates a mosaic connecting one thought to another to convey a narrative, it leads directly to Christopher Marlowe's: "Why this is hell, nor am I out of it."
"Detox Mansion" by Warren Zevon
In perhaps the most famous song about recovery, "Rehab," Amy Winehouse never gets there, with tragic results in her real life. For all the hard-partying rock stars, there are very few songs about actually going to rehab. "Detox Mansion," is among the best, conveying the weary cynicism mingled with hope that so often greets recovery. "I'm gone to Detox Mansion, way down on Last Breath Farm," sings Zevon, who struggled with alcoholism for decades, and was sober for 17 years before relapsing hard at the end of his life after he was diagnosed with cancer.
"Sober" by Pink
The pop pride of Philadelphia asks what is an essential question in recovery: "how do I feel this good sober?" Addicts must not only stop using, but construct a life they feel good about, where they find the kind of joy they used to find in substances. In the song, Pink sees herself clearly, a party girl running out of time, determined that this is not the way she wants her story to end.
"Some People Change" by Montgomery Gentry
This country duo is known for its smart, contemporary songs, blending faith and courage. "Some People Change" offers something that can be in short supply with the frequent reversals of recovery: hope. It limns the grimness of alcoholism in a few concise lines, the simultaneous submitting and hating that you're submitting, then celebrates those who can re-write the story of their lives: "Here's to the strong. Thanks to the brave. Don't give up hope. Some people change."
"Fallen" by Sarah McLachlan
A song that manages to be despairing and triumphant at the same time. "Better I should know"—in four words, the Lilith-fair founder deflates the regret that those who have "sunk so low." feel at being forced to give up their addictions and confront their broken lives even though "there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed." But there is, for many, as the Canadian balladeer reminds us.
"New South Wales" by Jason Isbell
Sometimes you just get sick of being sick. Isbell takes the details of recovery, the coffee and the posters, the slogans and the meetings, and find them good. Giving up his old life "holds no trace of sorrow," while the program ferrying him to his new life offers salvation. "God bless the busted boat that brings us back."
"Mariner's Song" by Cowboy Junkies
A beautiful song about loss and yearning, with that trademark fluttering mandolin. It might have nothing to do with recovery, but I chose to hear it that way. "I look for you in every crest I ride, with every trough I travel through" conveys the way the thing stays with you. But one line in particular sums up the best reason to keep on the straight path. "The last of man's great untamed beasts"—what could that be?—"lies lapping at my door. And I would be happy to give it what it wants, but I do know it would just ask for more."
That's it. As tempting as going back might be, there's no end to it. The beast would just ask for more.
"Lust for Life" — Iggy Pop
Trainspotting, Danny Boyle's movie about the Edinburgh drug scene might ask "Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?" but if you listen to the song playing over the opening credits, Iggy Pop's bass-drum driven "Lust for Life," you get a quick course in the pleasure of breaking with all those Johnnies and their enticements. "No more beating my brains, with liquor and drugs," Iggy sings, and makes us want to bounce along with him.
Thank you.
ReplyDeleteMy wife and I are both hitting the bottle while dealing with a grievous loss. Thanks for these. All the help I can take.
ReplyDeleteBoth my parents were alcohol addicted. I read Out of the Wreck I Rise, an honest accounting of the underpinnings and cyclical nature of dependency. Such readings helped me to look beyond their failings to relate to their pain differently, and to forgive. "In the fight against addiction, use whatever works" - music, and writing that deeply engages, are two potentially mighty tools for survival.
ReplyDeleteAlcohol is one of many addictive substances. There are many.
ReplyDeleteUse them and you risk becoming addicted. There may be some people who are immune to the properties of these substances though I have met very few.
There may be varying levels of use and frequency that lead to dependence and abuse. Some people are wired differently but most of us need to be very careful when we decide to ingest these substances.
Abstinence seems to be the best option.
I have chosen sobriety after many years of addiction.
It's interesting that you highlight your relationship to music and the words spoken by artists as a device that helped you to gain sobriety.
I think it was the opposite for me The Rock and roll lifestyle if you will, and the culture that surrounds it certainly contributed to my use.
So many songs glorifying drinking and drugs were the soundtrack to my days of debauchery. An entire culture dedicated to partying. I was hooked by 12. It's been 35 years since I've been drunk. I choose sobriety.
As sobriety time mirrors life, I'm at age three, steady on my feet and forming phrases. I like the term "liquor slave" as that describes my mental state then. I would wake, filled with remorse and determination for change. As the day progressed and my liver did its thing, I went looking for that bottle again.
ReplyDeleteNice playlist. Cold Turkey has been one of my favorites for (yikes!) more than fifty years.
ReplyDelete"Out of the Wreck I Rise" sits prominently on my book shelf, or rather book stacks. I recommend it even if you don't have an addiction.
That's good to hear. I thought I was using poetry to draw people to sobriety, but in some cases I seem to have been using sobriety to draw people to poetry.
DeleteNeruda:
DeleteAnd it was at that age… Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
One day at a time, my friend.
ReplyDeleteIt works, because you're worth it.
Joe Walsh One day at a time
ReplyDeleteYou mention Amy Winehouse. When she died, people close to her were saying how "shocked" they were. I thought, those people weren't paying attention.
ReplyDeleteShocked that she died at 27? Yeah. Surprised? Hell, no...
DeleteThere's a heartbreaking documentary about her life — you see her auditioning as a teenager, ended up surrounded by a bunch of parasites who let her down.
Delete"Jesus won't you fucking whistle" suggests a sarcastic impatience with a spiritual or moral authority....and maybe that the addict wants a clear cut sign from god on any self destructive behaviour changes.
ReplyDeleteAbstinence makes the heart grow fonder.
ReplyDeleteOut of the Wreck and Drunkard helped to save lives (mine). This may be a misattribution to Drunkard, but “drinking is a lot of fun until you have to” comes to mind when I think of Drunkard.
ReplyDeleteMay I offer - The King of Oaklahoma by Jason Isbell, Sideways Skull by The Hold Steady, and Impossible Germany by Wilco.
Like Mariners Song, while there is no definitive link I know of Impossible Germany to recovery, the personal connection I have is imagining a world-touring musician being asked “when are you going to quit?” To which the response of “Impossible, Germany…unlikely Japan”.
Thanks for this today Neil. It helped.
I'm glad. Without checking, I think it's "Drinking is no fun if you have to." I will listen to your recommendations, thanks.
DeleteGreat column. Some songs that I have not heard. Thank you very much. Some more songs to consider: 1) Jane Says by Jane’s Addiction. Multiple levels of addiction with great steel drum playing. 2) Broken English by Marianne Faithfull. The title has double meaning ie: broken by alcoholism & English via the Rolling Stones. 3) Google, George Jones Drinking Songs, many to choose from his long career. 4) Gram Parson’s girlfriend Emmylou Harris covers many songs concerning Gram’s early death from alcoholism and drugs. 5) Robbie Robertson’s tribute song to Richard Manuel’s death from alcoholism and drugs: Fallen Angel. Robbie also has a 2nd book titled Insomnia about living with Martin Scorsese in LA in 1977 after both were separated from their wives and children. A tremendously well told story about substance abuse. 6) The Singing Mailman from Maywood - John Prine. His song Sam Stone about a Vietnam Veteran who comes back to the US addicted to heroin. The lyrics and music are literally as perfect as any author and musician could possibly hope to have created. If I could add another song that John wrote that should always be known as the best song ever written about seniors and senior communities: Hello In There. Thanks again, Neil, for your insightful and emotional writing about your parents. It should be known that John wrote these songs at the age of 21 while working as a mailman in Maywood.
ReplyDeleteA quick anecdote: Kris Kristofferson came to play the Quiet Knight on the 2nd floor of the building at the southeast corner of Belmont & Sheffield in 1970. Kristofferson was out with his debut album titled Kristofferson. John who had taken guitar lessons at the Old Town School of Folk Music on Armitage, was blessed to open for Kristofferson at the Quiet Knight. That resulted in Kristofferson helping to get Prine a record contract. Jimmy Buffet was living in Chicago at the time. Our great Chicago writer and musician Steve Goodman were both knocked out by John’s talent which was growing rapidly like their own talents. I am reminded that I should endorse Kristofferson’s authored song sung incredibly by Janis Joplin - Me And Bobby McGee. I loved your book Drunkard too, Neil. It resonated deeply with my life’s journey.