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When I go walking and climbing in the Scottish mountains, I find that sometimes my mind will wander to issues of the day as I pound my way up some ridge. For example, I have from time to time been pursued by the taxman – not because I make a lot of money but because I’m an utter failure in managing properly that which I do earn. I have also had a weakness for seeking solace in dark bars when I have found the going is getting tough and then consequently been plagued with guilt the next morning. Shortly after this particular day in the hills, I recalled what had been going through my mind and I committed the impression it left me to verse.
If the guitar part sounds like a collage of different bits and pieces, then that’s because it is. The sung part is one of the very earliest coherent things I have a recollection of making up. I would have been sixteen, or so, I think. The rest is sparkling new – or was at the time of the recording – and is a product of my noodling around with whole-tone harmony and which incorporates a pastiche of a bit of Mahler.
Go Down
Happy days are
Here again, I’ll
Place my foot on the
Flank of a hill
Who gives a hoot
For the money I owe
Oh, go on down
To the place
That you know
Some say
We’ll be forgiven wherever we go
I can’t use ropes, I wish I
Could use ropes, all the
Paraphernalia like karabiners are
Wasted on me
Who gives a hoot
For the money I owe
Oh, go on down
It gets easier
Every day
Some say
That it won’t matter anyway
© 2006 Dave Keir
