music

People should smile more

14 October 2012
Charles
No comments
Categories: Children, music

Posted by Evelyn

I had some lovely good news today about the safe arrival of a very precious baby girl and this song came to my mind. Maybe I can’t change the world…..but today I smiled, people should smile more.

People should smile more
Im not saying there’s nothing to cry for but you’ve got
Everything laid out for you
Just close your eyes, take a deep breath and start another war

Keep buying, keep moving, this city, is sitting,
next to me, well laid out, it’s gonna come, one thing is certain

I can’t change the world
Cos tryin’ to make a difference makes it worse
It’s just an observation I can’t ignore
That people should smile more

People should smile more
But the lights are so bright that they blind you, just one more
Meaningless scientific breakthrough
The more we know, the less we care whilst damaged on the way

Keep moving, keep buying, this city, is sitting
Next to me, well laid out, it’s gonna come, one thing is certain

I can’t change the world
Cos tryin’ to make a difference makes it worse
It’s just an observation I can’t ignore
That people should smile more

Doo doo ba doo da doo dee dee do x4

I can’t change the world
Cos tryin’ to make a difference makes it worse
It’s just an observation I can’t ignore
That people should smile more

I can’t change the world
Cos tryin’ to make a difference makes it worse
It’s just an observation I can’t ignore
That people should smile more

Mozart v Rogers & Hammerstein

16 September 2012
Charles
5 Comments
Categories: ceremony, music

I was at a funeral for a much loved gentleman last week – he wasn’t into opera at all, but had heard Mozart on The Shawshank Redemption and loved it. He was a great believer in daring to dream. The whole room was surprised when we played an excerpt from the Marriage of Figaro as the curtains closed. ( Sull’aria, Che soave zeffiretto – find Renee Flemming on YouTube for a pure version)

We listened to the aria, then I read these words from the film script (Red narrating after the song in Shawshank Redemption)

“I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singin’ about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I like to think they were singin’ about something so beautiful it can’t be expressed in words and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared, higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away. And for the briefest of moments, every last man at Shawshank felt free.”

We concluded: ‘When you are in a grey place, when the colour leaves your world as you lose someone so precious and you feel trapped in your grief, wondering how this pain of your aching hearts can possibly ease…. hold on to the fact that you now carry them permanently inside your hearts, memories and dreams. Talk about those dreams, remember those happy memories and for the briefest of moments – every now and then you will be free.’

As a young man he had dreamed of having his own little boat. When he finally got his boat he named it ‘Happy Talk’ and that’s the song he chose to have playing as we all left.

“You’ve got to have a dream, if you don’t have a dream… how you gonna make a dream come true?”

Posted by Evelyn

Who Killed Cock Robin?

11 September 2012
Charles
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Categories: Animals, Art and death, music

Posted by Vale

THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF POOR COCK ROBIN

Who killed Cock Robin?
“I,” said the sparrow,
“With my little bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin,”

Who saw him die?
“I,” said the fly,
“With my little eye,
I saw him die.”

Who caught his blood?
“I,” said the fish,
“With my little dish,
I caught his blood.”

Who’ll make his shroud?
“I,” said the beetle,
“With my thread and needle.
I’ll make his shroud.”

Who’ll carry the torch?
“I,” said the linnet,
“I’ll come in a minute,
I’ll carry the torch.”

Who’ll be the clerk?
“I,” said the lark,
“If it’s not in the dark,
I’ll be the clerk.”

Who’ll dig his grave?
“I,” said the owl,
“With my spade and trowel
I’ll dig his grave.”

Who’ll be the parson?
“I,” said the rook,
“With my little book,
I’ll be the parson.”

Who’ll be chief mourner?
“I,” said the dove,
“I mourn for my love,
I’ll be chief mourner.”

Who’ll sing a psalm?
“I,” said the thrush,
“As I sit in a bush.
I’ll sing a psalm.”

Who’ll carry the coffin?
“I,” said the kite,
“If it’s not in the night,
I’ll carry the coffin.”

Who’ll toll the bell?
“I,” said the bull,
“Because I can pull,
I’ll toll the bell.”

All the birds of the air
Fell sighing and sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.

I came across some beautiful Victorian illustrations of the nursery rhyme on the Daily Undertaker The full set can be found here.

Something for the weekend

7 September 2012
Charles
3 Comments
Categories: music, Poetry

Posted by Vale

I was at a service a little while ago that included this lovely tribute from a wife to a husband:

To My Dear Loving Husband – Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye woman, if you can.
Prise thy love more than whole mines of gold,
Or all riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor aught but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever

Complicated and moving, we were hardly prepared for the husband’s favorite song that followed, though the mischief on the face of the widow might have warned us.

Don’t miss Gail’s 30 Day Challenge

4 September 2012
Charles
No comments
Categories: funeral customs, music, Poetry

I can’t keep up these days, dammit. To my great grief I missed the start of one of the great events of the year, Gail Rubin’s annual 30 Day Challenge. She attends 30 funerals in 30 days, and each day writes each one up in great detail in a values-neutral narrative. Goodness knows where she’s got to. 

Apart from being feats in their own right, Gail’s marathons offer very interesting insights into funeral customs, readings, music, etc in the US. In years to come sociologists will pore. But there’s no need to wait til then. 

Gail posts daily. Play catch-up now. 

Ain’t Going Yet

10 August 2012
Charles
2 Comments
Categories: funeral music, music

Billy Jenkins is a guitarist, composer, bandleader, performer & humanist funeral officiant in London. These are his funeral wishes:

Simple cremation for me

From Poppy’s.

No funeral.
No music – for when a musician dies, there is nothing but

Silence…..

If anyone wishes to:
Choose just one of my pieces of music.
Play loud.
Really listen and feel the resonation.
When finished, raise a glass  and shout three times:

‘Oh YEAH!’
‘Oh YEAH!’
‘Oh YEAH!’

Lyric extract for ‘I Am A Man From Lewisham’

Wherever I die – bring my ash and bone

Back to the place – that I call home

Been north and south

And east and west

I know the place – that I love best

‘Cause I’m a man – from Lewisham

Oh yes I am – From Lewisham.

As reviewed in the Daily Mirror:

    ‘One of the great unclassifiable forces in the British underground. His ever-fascinating career takes a joyful turn on an album of pubsy knees-ups, blues growling and deliriously rude brass. He also conducts humanist funerals. Versatile!’ 
                                                         Gavin Martin / The Daily Mirror

 Here is a song he wrote.

I still got some teeth
Grey matter underneath
So hold the funeral wreath
I Ain’t Going Yet

I can still walk
And  boy how I can talk
Get that wine uncorked 
I Ain’t Going Yet

Where’s the time gone? 
I don’t know
I just arrived now it’s time to go
Seems that I can’t have no more
Death is knockin’ at my door

Excuse me if I ask it
But I don’t need no casket
You don’t seem to grasp it
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!

Just one last request
Before I’m laid to rest
There’s  something I must stress
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!
I Ain’t Going Yet 
OH NO!

[wadya mean OH NO!? You mean OH YEAH!!] 
© 2000 Billy Jenkins  PRS/MCPS

    from the CD ‘LIFE’ VOTP  VOCD 023

Striking the right note

7 August 2012
Charles
1 Comment
Categories: coffins, funeral music, music, Personalisation

John Graham leaves St Andrew’s United Reformed Church in his Fender Stratocaster coffin fashioned by — who else? — Crazy Coffins.  The lifelong rocker came out to the strains of the Shadows’ Wonderful Land. Read the full story in the Mail here. Note: the Mail misattributes the making of the coffin to the funeral director.

Goodbye to you my trusted friend

6 August 2012
Charles
6 Comments
Categories: funeral music, music

Posted by Richard Rawlinson, our funeral music correspondent.

It’s 1974, there are three day weeks in Britain due to fuel shortages, and, across the Pond, President Richard Nixon is resigning over the Watergate scandal. And the radio soundtrack to these troubled times includes some of the cheesiest treatments of death in pop history: Gilbert O’Sulivan’s ‘Alone Again (Naturally)’ (above) and (below) Paper Lace’s ‘Billy, Don’t be a Hero’:

Then we come to the nadir of them all, Terry Jacks’ ‘Seasons in the Sun’. ‘We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun/But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time,” croons Jacks, as he appears to say goodbye in preparation for death by ‘too much wine and too much song’. I concur with the latter.

In fact, the maudlin hit has more credible, ‘Continental Cool’ roots, its original being Jacques Brel’s 1961 release, Le Moribund:

And amazingly, Kurt Cobain also recorded a cover of the Jacks version with Nirvana in the 1990s, which has added resonance as a suicide note from the junkie grunge star:

But if civil celebs out there ever get to play a rendition of ‘Seasons in Sun’ on the crem sound system, I do hope it’s this distinctly upbeat version by campy Cali-punk cover band, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. Somehow, it’s the most moving of the lot:

Brahn Boots – Stanley Holloway

26 July 2012
Charles
9 Comments
Categories: Etiquette, music

Our Aunt Hanna’s passed away,
We ‘ad her funeral today,
And it was a posh affair,
Had to have two p’licemen there!

The ‘earse was luv’ly, all plate glass,
And wot a corfin!… oak and brass!
We’d fah-sands weepin’, flahers galore,
But Jim, our cousin… what d’yer fink ‘e wore?

Why, brahn boots!
I ask yer… brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral
In brahn boots!

I will admit ‘e ‘ad a nice black tie,
Black fingernails and a nice black eye;
But yer can’t see people orf when they die,
In brahn boots!

And Aunt ‘ad been so very good to ‘im,
Done all that any muvver could for ‘im,
And Jim, her son, to show his clars…
Rolls up to make it all a farce,

In brahn boots…
I ask yer… brahn boots!
While all the rest,
Wore decent black and mourning suits.

I’ll own he didn’t seem so gay,
In fact he cried most part the way,
But straight, he reg’lar spoilt our day,
Wiv ‘is brahn boots.

In the graveyard we left Jim,
None of us said much to him,
Yus, we all gave ‘im the bird,
Then by accident we ‘eard …

‘E’d given ‘is black boots to Jim Small,
A bloke wot ‘ad no boots at all,
So p’raps Aunt Hanna doesn’t mind,
She did like people who was good and kind.

But brahn boots!
I ask yer… brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral,
In brahn boots!

And we could ‘ear the neighbours all remark
“What, ‘im chief mourner? Wot a blooming lark!
“Why ‘e looks more like a Bookmaker’s clerk…
In brahn boots!”

That’s why we ‘ad to be so rude to ‘im,
That’s why we never said “Ow do!” to ‘im,
We didn’t know… he didn’t say,
He’d give ‘is other boots away.

But brahn boots!
I ask yer… brahn boots!
While all the rest,
Wore decent black and mourning suits!

But some day up at Heavens gate,
Poor Jim, all nerves, will stand and wait,
’til an angel whispers… “Come in, Mate,
“Where’s yer brahn boots?”