Brad Rourke's Blog

Work, Art, and Leisure Collide: Remembering Two Songs By The West End

May 4, 2014 · 3 Comments

Today I happened to play an old playlist while I took a run. In the mix, a song came on that took me back and sent me on a reverie. I thought I’d share it.

Some years ago I was in a band called The West End along with my good friends and neighbors Monique DeFrees (drums), Mike Shawn (keys and vox), and Matthew Taylor (bass). I played guitar and sang. Later, another good friend, Kate Gordon joined and improved our vocals immensely. We played about 2/3 covers and 1/3 originals — it was the originals that kept me in the game because I loved writing and performing new songs. I saw them as similar to blog posts or essays.

(Most people don’t go out to see original live music except by established bands so we had to also play covers that people recognized. We made them our own, but it still was never as fun as for me playing our own music.)

Eventually, we saved enough money by playing gigs to pay for recording studio time, a producer, and CD duplication — and we had ourselves an album! It was called This Ride Could Be My Last.

The song that came on my playlist was from that album. I hadn’t listened in a while. You know what? It holds up.

But I wanted to share a bit about where the song came from. There are two songs on the album that relate directly to a professional project I had been working on. The songs are “Father Lou” and “They Go.”

The Project: End of Life Decisions

At the time I wrote these songs, I was embroiled in research for an issue guide I was working on for a client, the Kettering Foundation. The topic of the issue guide (a report designed to support public deliberation on a difficult topics) was the end of life. Who decides what happens at the end of life? How do we as a society want to think about the notion of assisted suicide? Euthanasia? How do we balance personal freedom with sound and fair policy? More than perhaps many such pieces of work, the topic was quite wrenching.

(In case you are interested, the issue guide is available here.)

Building a Song From an Observation: “Father Lou”

The first song that comes out of this period is a quick little number called “Father Lou.” It started out (in my mind) as a very slow, dirge-like tune — but my bandmates wisely told me to speed it up. Click the player below to listen:

This song came to me sort of fully-formed, and it unfolded in my mind all while I was on a run (like today’s) through a sketchy area in Memphis, Tennessee.

Part of the work we do in developing issue guides like the one I was working on is hold focus groups with ordinary people to talk about the issue at hand. We want to see how real people talk about the issue, what their chief concerns are, and how they start out thinking about the issue. Focus group houses are in all kinds of neighborhoods, some fancy and some marginal. I find myself fairly often in marginal areas because we want to get “truly ordinary” folks in our groups, not the professional types that are more easily recruited to take part in focus groups in fancy facilities (these usually cater to corporate clients).

Anyway, there I was in Memphis, and the group was later that night but it was mid-day. So I went for a run through the neighborhood. I came upon a set of city blocks where it seemed like every other driveway had a car on blocks. The other driveways also had cars in them, and it took me a while to figure out why this might seem out of place to me: It was midday and in many other neighborhoods these cars would all be at work. But here they were.

So the lines that would become the third verse popped into my head. And then the song sort of built itself as I ran.

It’s not about end of life questions, it is actually about a character I had in my head at the time — a priest who goes to a Skid Row area thinking he is going to rescue everyone there. Little does he know that people see him as a figure of fun and ridicule, and eventually they turn on him.

(At the end of this post you can read the full lyrics.)

Song as Issue Guide: “They Go.”

Another song on the album is more directly related to this end of life issue guide. The stories I heard as I listened to focus groups while working on this guide got deep into my head and rattled around. One day, while taking a stroll outside a Dayton hotel, this scenario of someone stuck alone in a hospital with a terminal illness came into my head. Somehow this mixed with an image I had of a family member who had recently had heart surgery — he complained to me in a conversation about how the nurses come and go all through the night while he tried to rest and recuperate.

These two ideas mixed together and I wrote a song about this person alone in a hospital, with a terminal illness, writing a letter to a friend. The two friends had promised one another on some drunken night to “take care of it” if either was hospitalized and incapacitated, destined for a lingering death.

So this song popped out: The chorus is based on the “coming and going” all night, while the overall theme comes directly from the thoughts running through my head as I developed a framework for public deliberation on the topic of end of life decisions.

I hope you like them.

The Lyrics

In case you are interested (I usually want to know them), here are the lyrics for each song:

FATHER LOU
By Brad Rourke

There’s a certain part of town
Where the fire trucks never run
There’s nothing there to burn
That would be missed by anyone
There’s a sidewalk over there
Behind the sheriff’s impound lot
Where bedrooms are reserved
By spreading cardboard out

Into this place comes a man
Trying to do the best he can
Sent there on a mission from the lord
Save these lost sheep from the sword

He walks these crooked streets
Spreading handouts all around
Like everyone’s a mark
And the carnival’s in town
They all stick out their hands
And gladly take his grace
Some laugh behind his back
And others in his face

How many times before he learns
Watch your back or get your fingers burned
Saving souls is no work for the weak
You’ll catch your death just standing on the street

There’s a certain part of town
Where cars stay home all day
Some on blocks and others got no place
To go to anyway
Remember Father Lou
He used to hang around down here
Until we jacked him for his wallet
And his body disappeared

Into this place came a man
Trying to do the best he can
Sent here on a mission from the lord
Save us lost sheep from the sword
Save us lost sheep from the sword
Save us lost sheep from the sword

And, finally:

THEY GO
By Brad Rourke

Come and see me where I’m at
I wish I could pay for that
You’ll have to make your own way
I might not last another day

They come, they go
Always at the same time
They come, they go
It’s how I know I’m alive

There’s nothing private in this room
The lights always seem to go out too soon
Right when I’m just settling down
Nothing left for me but the night sounds

They come, they go
Always at the same time
They come, they go
It’s how I know I’m alive

Hope this message reaches you
And if it does you’ll know what to do
Remember that night of promises
Do what you said if it comes to this

They come, they go
Always at the same time
They come, they go
It’s how I know I’m alive
They come, they go
I’m alone most of the time
They come, they go
If you hurry you’ll make it here in plenty of time

Categories: community · music

  • Josh Lubell

    Brad, I really enjoyed reading this post. It was great learning what inspired you to write these two songs. I was a West End fan back in the day, and I still listen to my “This Ride” CD every now and then.

  • Maura Casey

    I love this!
    Maura

    • http://blog.bradrourke.com Brad Rourke

      Thanks Maura!