Soon It Will Be Fire
Richard Youngs
My father’s in the hospital and not doing so well.
I can imagine a future where his health and strength return and he can live a few more good years with my mother. So I’m holding on to hope for now. My dad, my mom and both of Annie’s folks are all still alive in their eighties and have been doing so well up to this point. Very grateful for that.
Death has been lurking more it seems the past few years. It feels like every other day someone falls that I feel emotionally connected to. Perhaps this is par for the course when you keep growing older, and lucky enough to keep on living.
In Twin Peaks alone, since the Return of S3, we’ve lost (my friend) Catherine Coulson, Al Strobel, Harry Dean Stanton, Angeleo Badalementi, John Neff, Lenny Von Dohlen, Kenneth Welsh, Francis Bay, Clark Middleton, Robert Forster, Brent Briscoe — that’s just off the top of my head. I’m sure there are more.
As a kid, death was a foreign language. One I’d learn to speak someday, but for now it was reserved for old people. But over the years, I’ve had to learn some of it — first seeing my beautiful grandparents go in their twilight years. Then, my Uncle. I watched my brother in law and sister in law lose their baby after two horrible weeks and I wasn’t prepared for it. It was the worst and I wasn’t capable of expressing my grief. A part of that language I didn’t understand and maybe never would. It felt so desperate and severe inside of me, but I knew how it paled in comparison to their grief. And I could only try to remain strong and grieve on their behalf from a distance.
More recently, I saw my cousin die too young. That one was heavy, even though we all saw it coming for so many years. I loved my cousin Alan and have so many sweet memories growing up visiting him.
My dear friend Brad took his own life during the pandemic. I’m still reeling from this and don’t quite feel equipped to process it. This part of the language I can’t speak or comprehend. All I have is grief, some looming unanswerable (?) questions and many happy memories.
We’ve buried a few of our beloved pets this past decade. Our dog Sedona — who I still dream about. And our cat Rosie, who grew up with Flannery between 4 and 14. Those two hurt bad. Do we weep more easily with pets? Maybe so.
I can see why Jandek played with Richard Youngs in Glasgow when he first came out of the shadows to perform. It’s how I was introduced to Youngs and his music — which has always felt less improvised and more musical, more polished than the man from Corwood Industries likes his own Jandek records.
Youngs is wildly talented and can play every instrument. He started off making experimental, instrumental music, but then — in an instant — he decided he wanted to sing. I’m sure glad he did.
This is a song that is so beautiful and personal. It’s about the death of a dog. It’s the first track on the record SAPHIE and it all feels so pure and uncontrived. The two little paw prints on the cover just kill me. I love the guitar and melody and how Youngs draws out every single word. It’s a marvel and worth following along with the lyrics as you listen. The record has three lengthy tracks that go together, and he really sticks the landing on such a difficult subject.
Somehow you grieve during this record and you cry — but it all feels good and right. It’s music, it’s art and it’s also medicine. The howling is mournful, but the beauty and silver lining are lurking. It’s a greiving record that somehow begins to pull you into some kind of acceptance — so we can almost glimpse the healing process that still awaits. This beauty is an absolute keeper and a record I imagine playing every now and then for the rest of my life. ❤️
Grim streets of bright sun
Fading in my time
Small sea change changing
The spring sprung
The space of space is peace
Down home up and away
Drawing water
I’m painting on water
Clouding the silver lining
Lying prone on full fuel
More said less done
Photographs out of a speeding car window
Move the body to rest the soul
Daily personal resurrection
Soon it will be fire
