The final version is beautiful, and the reasons for the omissions make total sense. But I must confess… I loved the original. I loved it when I saw it performed on that very U.K. tour 12 years ago, and I love it now.
The final version is beautiful, but the first version cracked my heart wide open in a way that the edited one can't possibly. I've needed a good cry for a year and it burst, about halfway through.
I understand the hesitation, but I very strongly think the changes were a big mistake. The first version wasn't an intrusion into another's life; it ties the listener to the deep pain of our _universal_ mortality. The phrase about the owner closing the case for the last time, without knowing that truth, is so deeply, deeply painful. It reminds me of the paragraph at the close of The Sheltering Sky:
“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don't know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It's that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don't know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”
Hi Raymond. Everything you say is beautiful and full of sense. I hear it all. And I know that passage from Paul Bowles. I'm honored that the song reached you as it did. I'll say a couple of things in response. First, there's no need for anyone to have a change of opinion simply because of my preference for the second version. My position as author entitles me to exactly nothing (except maybe some royalties!). Second, the image of the latched case.... You said that it's "so deeply, deeply painful". Yes, it is. But in that first version I was not addressing universal mortality. I was addressing a very particular one, one I felt I was intruding upon. It's one thing to hear the song knowing nothing about the backstory. It's another thing to have a first and last name in mind, to cross paths with friends and colleagues. I'm not saying it couldn't be done, just that for various reasons I could not be the one to do it. Finally, could I make a wee friendly request that you refrain from saying I made a "big mistake". Not helpful. I'm teetering as it is. Finally finally, as I've said elsewhere here, please carry on liking whatever version floats your boat! Cheers, RS
A favorite song...I'd never heard the original version and it feels to me, a different song. I hear the first version as fictionalized with a dark beautiful twist but the version that finally emerged is a true story, a personal account of the day your long awaited purchase finally arrived and the time spent playing familiar songs on an unfamiliar neck with a brand new voice. I can feel the connection to the story. But maybe don't lock away the first version...the image of a closed case is haunting and now to me unforgettable. Happy Sunday Maestro. Thanks again.
Hey Gary. Happy Sunday to you too. You've gotten to the crux of the matter. That first version was NOT FICTION, except the part where I insinuated myself into the story. THAT was fiction. And I wasn't cool with it.
I understand ... fictionalized is the wrong word...the death was real but you took yourself out of that aspect of the song. I can see how the image of the closing case would be in mind. I would be so tempted to use that because of its emotional impact...You chose respect. That attention to the inner voice is so impressive, a teachable moment. Willing to call yourself out and do the hard work. To me this the hardest part of songwriting or just writing in general... being true to me... Thank you for your response, Richard.
I, too, have loved the original version. Maybe it comes across to me as more open and vulnerable, maybe it captures something more raw, maybe it offers me a reflection back of things I have gone through -- not sure. But the existence of both versions of the song, for me, is a tribute to your being able both to "hear" what's out there and to craft it.
Hi Diana. I'm glad you love original. Please continue! For me, learning how people have received and reacted to the song is enlightening to say the least.
Today I'm 64. I'm about 30 hours into the 10,000 required to master the instrument. It took all those years to summon the courage to pick it up again after my first failings in my single digits. I have many 10,000 hours completed in so many other things that I can point to, but music has been the one constant in my life that I've left to those more naturally inclined. My good friend recently wrote and recorded a song about his Takamini that has accompanied him for almost 60 years. Another love for a lovely guitar. But your song. It speaks to that haunting of cherished objects that we see and connect to in shops or auction houses. It's a rare soul that can tease the spirit out of said object, and of course it would be you. A gift that you share regardless of the risks and countless hours of effort. I and countless others are truly grateful.
Thanks Chris. Yes, we can be haunted by objects. It's easier to understand in the case of a musical instrument. But a swimming mask? When I was about 8 years old I lost my grip on a brand new mask. It sank to the bottom of the Long Island Sound. I tried to dive, but it was too deep, and the water was too murky. Gone. The idea of my mask lying abandoned at the bottom of the Sound haunted me. Maybe I should write something about that.
I first heard you perform (the original) at Greystones in Sheffield in 2014? I was stunned it was so good. Mesmerising and magical
You performed the final version there a couple of years later. Afterwards I asked you why you had changed it and you explained that the original contained things you did not think it was your place to articulate.
I was on the point of telling you that I thought you were wrong, but I was also conscious of the conversation going in a direction I was uncomfortable with. After all, we rarely get the opportunity to talk to people whose work we love Then to be critical? Well, it didn't feel like my place, either.
I downloaded the version you recorded on "Songs from the Shed" and I would always listen to that in preference to the "Careless" version. It is beautiful and poignant and I am sorry you seem so uncomfortable with it. But it is yours and you can do with it what you will.
But, anyway, for what it is worth, and I guess it is not much, I still think you got it right first time. You created something which was pretty much perfect, it didn't need changing.
Were we about to come to fisticuffs? ;-) Thank you for the very kind words about the first version. I can accept the compliment (despite everything I said in the post) because it's not a question of disowning that version. It's not a bad song, as songs go. I just can't sing it!
I don't think taking the matter into Greystones (rather small) car park would have solved anything!
Anyway, thank you for taking the time to explain your position and giving others the opportunity to express theirs. I have read them all with interest.
And I look forward to your next visit to Yorkshire (Shipley) in March.
Both versions are just beautiful. But the first one touched my heart the most. The way I see it, the song flew out of your guitar. It was her story to tell too. I am glad she chose to tell it to you.
There are some beautiful comments here in support of the original version, and I'm grateful for them all. I'll respond individually to the particulars of each one. But generally... If I felt the need to change the song it wasn't because I was trying to make a better song, but because I was trying to make a song that said exactly what I wanted to say, one that did not say exactly what I did not want to say, exactly. It can't be otherwise!
Wow ... Thank you for sharing your journey with this song. I have such vast respect for you, Richard, as a player, a singer and a songwriter. And I find myself almost stunned by the disconnect between your perceptions around this, and my own. I listened to the first draft and was mesmerized; the guitar tone, and your playing, were so warm, so intimate. And as the lyrics unfolded the story, I was so moved. I had to listen to it three times in a row. It took my breath away. I wept. The sensitivity and intimacy of the lyrics, flowing out of the beautiful sorrow of the guitar's journey, and your new place in its life, moved me deeply ... And after reading the rest of your story, and your sense that much of the first draft was "cringeworthy," I returned to it for another listen ... You're the artist, Richard; what do I know? But for me, the draft was the better version, and the one I'll return to. Thank you for sharing it ...
Hi Liam. Thanks for writing. Thanks for the deep engagement. Sorry to stun you. If it's any consolation, I'm stunned too. I never imagined folks would have such strong opinions about this. And as of about ten minutes ago, I'm willing to accept that cringeworthy might've been a bit over the top. Thanks for listening.
So strange how most here including myself favor the first version although both are fabulous. Maybe you are right that it wasn’t your voice. But maybe you were the only one that could coax that other voice which told such a heartfelt story. Perhaps .. the guitars spirit and owners “energy” were present in that version and worked through you. ! Great stuff! Thanks for sharing!
The final version is beautiful, and the reasons for the omissions make total sense. But I must confess… I loved the original. I loved it when I saw it performed on that very U.K. tour 12 years ago, and I love it now.
Fascinating to hear about its journey.
I love that you love the original. By all means continue!
Ditto, I love the original but I respect your decision, it is your song.
The final version is beautiful, but the first version cracked my heart wide open in a way that the edited one can't possibly. I've needed a good cry for a year and it burst, about halfway through.
I understand the hesitation, but I very strongly think the changes were a big mistake. The first version wasn't an intrusion into another's life; it ties the listener to the deep pain of our _universal_ mortality. The phrase about the owner closing the case for the last time, without knowing that truth, is so deeply, deeply painful. It reminds me of the paragraph at the close of The Sheltering Sky:
“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don't know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It's that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don't know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”
Memento mori.
Hi Raymond. Everything you say is beautiful and full of sense. I hear it all. And I know that passage from Paul Bowles. I'm honored that the song reached you as it did. I'll say a couple of things in response. First, there's no need for anyone to have a change of opinion simply because of my preference for the second version. My position as author entitles me to exactly nothing (except maybe some royalties!). Second, the image of the latched case.... You said that it's "so deeply, deeply painful". Yes, it is. But in that first version I was not addressing universal mortality. I was addressing a very particular one, one I felt I was intruding upon. It's one thing to hear the song knowing nothing about the backstory. It's another thing to have a first and last name in mind, to cross paths with friends and colleagues. I'm not saying it couldn't be done, just that for various reasons I could not be the one to do it. Finally, could I make a wee friendly request that you refrain from saying I made a "big mistake". Not helpful. I'm teetering as it is. Finally finally, as I've said elsewhere here, please carry on liking whatever version floats your boat! Cheers, RS
Did you visit Big Pink in upstate New York?
I had to drive by it all the time. Not much to look at. But if you use your imagination....
Did you visit Big Pink in upstate New York?
Beautiful song.
A favorite song...I'd never heard the original version and it feels to me, a different song. I hear the first version as fictionalized with a dark beautiful twist but the version that finally emerged is a true story, a personal account of the day your long awaited purchase finally arrived and the time spent playing familiar songs on an unfamiliar neck with a brand new voice. I can feel the connection to the story. But maybe don't lock away the first version...the image of a closed case is haunting and now to me unforgettable. Happy Sunday Maestro. Thanks again.
Hey Gary. Happy Sunday to you too. You've gotten to the crux of the matter. That first version was NOT FICTION, except the part where I insinuated myself into the story. THAT was fiction. And I wasn't cool with it.
I understand ... fictionalized is the wrong word...the death was real but you took yourself out of that aspect of the song. I can see how the image of the closing case would be in mind. I would be so tempted to use that because of its emotional impact...You chose respect. That attention to the inner voice is so impressive, a teachable moment. Willing to call yourself out and do the hard work. To me this the hardest part of songwriting or just writing in general... being true to me... Thank you for your response, Richard.
I, too, have loved the original version. Maybe it comes across to me as more open and vulnerable, maybe it captures something more raw, maybe it offers me a reflection back of things I have gone through -- not sure. But the existence of both versions of the song, for me, is a tribute to your being able both to "hear" what's out there and to craft it.
Hi Diana. I'm glad you love original. Please continue! For me, learning how people have received and reacted to the song is enlightening to say the least.
Today I'm 64. I'm about 30 hours into the 10,000 required to master the instrument. It took all those years to summon the courage to pick it up again after my first failings in my single digits. I have many 10,000 hours completed in so many other things that I can point to, but music has been the one constant in my life that I've left to those more naturally inclined. My good friend recently wrote and recorded a song about his Takamini that has accompanied him for almost 60 years. Another love for a lovely guitar. But your song. It speaks to that haunting of cherished objects that we see and connect to in shops or auction houses. It's a rare soul that can tease the spirit out of said object, and of course it would be you. A gift that you share regardless of the risks and countless hours of effort. I and countless others are truly grateful.
Thanks Chris. Yes, we can be haunted by objects. It's easier to understand in the case of a musical instrument. But a swimming mask? When I was about 8 years old I lost my grip on a brand new mask. It sank to the bottom of the Long Island Sound. I tried to dive, but it was too deep, and the water was too murky. Gone. The idea of my mask lying abandoned at the bottom of the Sound haunted me. Maybe I should write something about that.
And what a dolt I am... Happy Birthday!
I first heard you perform (the original) at Greystones in Sheffield in 2014? I was stunned it was so good. Mesmerising and magical
You performed the final version there a couple of years later. Afterwards I asked you why you had changed it and you explained that the original contained things you did not think it was your place to articulate.
I was on the point of telling you that I thought you were wrong, but I was also conscious of the conversation going in a direction I was uncomfortable with. After all, we rarely get the opportunity to talk to people whose work we love Then to be critical? Well, it didn't feel like my place, either.
I downloaded the version you recorded on "Songs from the Shed" and I would always listen to that in preference to the "Careless" version. It is beautiful and poignant and I am sorry you seem so uncomfortable with it. But it is yours and you can do with it what you will.
But, anyway, for what it is worth, and I guess it is not much, I still think you got it right first time. You created something which was pretty much perfect, it didn't need changing.
Were we about to come to fisticuffs? ;-) Thank you for the very kind words about the first version. I can accept the compliment (despite everything I said in the post) because it's not a question of disowning that version. It's not a bad song, as songs go. I just can't sing it!
I don't think taking the matter into Greystones (rather small) car park would have solved anything!
Anyway, thank you for taking the time to explain your position and giving others the opportunity to express theirs. I have read them all with interest.
And I look forward to your next visit to Yorkshire (Shipley) in March.
See you then Andy.
This song is one of my faves. The first draft is not so cringe-worthy IMHO, but I really appreciate hearing about the process.
Thanks Michael. The cringing is my issue, not yours. ;-)
Both versions are just beautiful. But the first one touched my heart the most. The way I see it, the song flew out of your guitar. It was her story to tell too. I am glad she chose to tell it to you.
Thank you! It did fly out. It felt exactly like that. Forgive me, do you prefer Mary or Mary Anne?
Mary Anne. I am looking forward to seeing you again in Tarrytown in October.
See you there.
I love the first version too. Thanks for your "constant voice all through my life".
There are some beautiful comments here in support of the original version, and I'm grateful for them all. I'll respond individually to the particulars of each one. But generally... If I felt the need to change the song it wasn't because I was trying to make a better song, but because I was trying to make a song that said exactly what I wanted to say, one that did not say exactly what I did not want to say, exactly. It can't be otherwise!
Wow ... Thank you for sharing your journey with this song. I have such vast respect for you, Richard, as a player, a singer and a songwriter. And I find myself almost stunned by the disconnect between your perceptions around this, and my own. I listened to the first draft and was mesmerized; the guitar tone, and your playing, were so warm, so intimate. And as the lyrics unfolded the story, I was so moved. I had to listen to it three times in a row. It took my breath away. I wept. The sensitivity and intimacy of the lyrics, flowing out of the beautiful sorrow of the guitar's journey, and your new place in its life, moved me deeply ... And after reading the rest of your story, and your sense that much of the first draft was "cringeworthy," I returned to it for another listen ... You're the artist, Richard; what do I know? But for me, the draft was the better version, and the one I'll return to. Thank you for sharing it ...
Hi Liam. Thanks for writing. Thanks for the deep engagement. Sorry to stun you. If it's any consolation, I'm stunned too. I never imagined folks would have such strong opinions about this. And as of about ten minutes ago, I'm willing to accept that cringeworthy might've been a bit over the top. Thanks for listening.
Pretty much echoes my thoughts (see above),
So strange how most here including myself favor the first version although both are fabulous. Maybe you are right that it wasn’t your voice. But maybe you were the only one that could coax that other voice which told such a heartfelt story. Perhaps .. the guitars spirit and owners “energy” were present in that version and worked through you. ! Great stuff! Thanks for sharing!
Thanks Brendan.
I loved them both. The intensity of your music often takes me to a deep part of my being.
Thank you Mary.