Prose/Poem/Song

When I began this project a couple of months ago it was with the intention to discuss whether song lyrics can be considered poetry. I discovered that there really is no definitive answer for this, but beginning with that question spawned a few others that I wasn’t expecting to tackle. The true artistry of songs comes from the combination of poetic lyrics and the music and voices that give them life. Often, the musical backing and intonation of the singer(s) can completely change the meaning of the lyrics. So I’ve learned that, although this isn’t always the case, many lyrics are poetic with or without the music, but generally don’t have the same meaning or effect if it’s absent. 

For this final post I’ve chosen to discuss what happens when non-musical/poetic words become songs. A while ago I made the comment that music and poetry thrive off each other; prose can also be included in that statement. In 2009 musicians Benjamin Gibbard, of Death Can for Cutie, and Jay Farrar participated in the making of One Fast Move or I’m Gone, a documentary film based on the stories behind/analytical discussions of Jack Kerouac’s novel Big Sur. Gibbard and Farrar were also the creators of the soundtrack for the film, which includes songs inspired by the novel and often take lines directly from Kerouac’s writing. On the soundtrack two things are happening: 1. The prose is becoming poetry and 2. The poetry is becoming song.

"California Zephyr"

 

Up the Hudson Valley across New York State to Chicago then the Plains
All so easy and dreamlike crashing the salt flat daybreak
I hear "I'll Take You Home again Kathleen" sad fog winds out there to blow
Across the rooftops of eerie old hangover San Francisco

Now I'm transcontinental 3000 miles from my home
I'm on the California Zephyr watching America roll by
Now I'm transcontinental 3000 miles from my home
I'm on the California Zephyr watching America roll by

I've hit the end of my trail can't even drag my own body
I've been driven mad for three years
Too much fame keeps a body busy and the mind full of tears
Terrified by that sad song across rooftops
mingled with the lachrymose cries of the salvation army meeting
on the corner saying, "Satan is the cause of it all"

Now I'm transcontinental 3000 miles from my home
I'm on the California Zephyr watching America roll by
Now I'm transcontinental 3000 miles from my home
I'm on the California Zephyr watching America roll by

The order of songs on the record is different from the order in which they appear in the film. The first song in the film is “California Zephyr,” which signifies the beginning of Kerouac’s journey from the East Coast to San Francisco where he first learns about Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s cabin in Bixby Canyon. In initial reason for his trip across country is that he’d grown sick and tired of the fanfare surrounding On the Road – living in the Village in New York City he could just never escape it. “California Zephyr” coincides with Kerouac’s desire to leave New York behind, which is particularly evident when Gibbard sings,

I’ve hit the end of my trail can’t even drag my own body

I’ve been driven mad for three years

Too much fame keeps a body busy and the mind full of tears,

which are lyrics spawned directly from Kerouac’s own words in Big Sur.

The sound of the song also adds meaning to the lyrics through the music itself and the tone of Gibbard’s voice. Though it only lasts for about one measure at the very beginning of the song, notice the sound of the acoustic guitar – since the strings are muted it sounds like rhythmic chugging, like a train running along tracks. This represents the excitement Kerouac felt at beginning his journey, at finally leaving the Village where he was being crowded by his own fame; the music then gives way to the quiet introspection of traveling alone. Gibbard’s voice comes in light, floating, much like the notes now strummed from the guitar; though there is sadness and regret in the lyrics, the overall tone is hopeful because of the sound of the song. But eventually Kerouac’s hope for change will be soured by the San Francisco night life and his plunge into an alcoholic depression.

"One Fast Move or I'm Gone"

This river of road,  

It don't flow like it used to.  

But it's more of a home  

Than anywhere that I've ridden it to.
We used to dream together  

But now I drink alone.  

From the bottle to the tumbler 

Is the only journey left I know.
And in my memories depths 

I retrace my steps. 

I cannot find where I went wrong. 

It was one fast move or I'm gone.
I found out at an early age 

I could make anything or plane  

Disappear or cease to exist if I turn my back to it.  

And that the interstates, they don't connect  

Where you are to what you've left.  

And the ghost of our dreams haunt the roads in between.

The downward spiral Kerouac experiences in San Francisco leads him to want to make another change. He begins to feel restless, knowing he needs to get out of the rut. In the novel the line “it’s one fast move or I’m gone” represents the need to leave San Francisco, and on one frantic night, he decides to go to Ferlinghetti’s cabin in Bixby to “dry out.”

When Kerouac first arrives in San Francisco he is taken in by the bohemian lifestyle of North Beach, much like that of the Village back in New York, but the change of scenery rejuvenates him. The drinking and writing and people become this magical experience that inspires him. But just as it did in New York, this new life catches up with him – he drowns in alcohol every night and wakes up hung over, “goopy” as he puts it, every morning, unable to work, write, or create any real solidarity within the new community of new people. Ferlinghetti, an old friend from back East, tells Kerouac about his cabin in Bixby – no running water, no electricity – and suggests he should go sometime and spend a few weeks. And one night, Kerouac packs a ruck sack and decides to go. “It’s one fast move or I’m gone,” he says, then clarifies, “I’ve got to escape or I’ll die.”

Expressed in the song, Gibbard and Farrar paint the picture of Kerouac’s magical bohemian world, now soiled, singing, “We used to dream together / But now I drink alone,” which shows how things have changed. The crowds of writers around Kerouac has now dwindled, but even if they had stuck around he still would have felt alone because of his mental state. The song then depicts Kerouac searching for goodness in the past but doesn’t ever really find it, saying,

And in my memories depths I retrace my steps.

I cannot find where I went wrong.

It was one fast move or I’m gone.

Even through all of his searching Kerouac still doesn’t understand how things got so bad, so his solution is to get away. Gibbard sings on behalf of Kerouac, “I learned at an early age I could make anything or plain / Disappear or cease to exist if I turn my back to it.” If he gets away from everything that’s troubling him it will all disappear, or at least that’s what Kerouac hopes for. So he ends up in Ferlinghetti’s cabin in the woods getting back to simplicity and what he thinks is really important. In the documentary it’s said that for his first few days in Bixby Kerouac is like “a little kid, just out exploring stuff – it’s so innocent,” but just like what always tends to happen in Kerouac’s life, things take a turn, and his innocent vision of this simple life he’s trying to create in Bixby begins to change.

"Big Sur"

Sittin' down with warm glow woodstove and kerosene
Peace you're lookin' for
Peace you'll find
In the tanglement cliff sides and crashin' down
Of Big Sur
Of Big Sur

Rapturous ring of silence, Pacific fury
Crashing on the rocks
Sea shroud towers
The innocence of health and stillness in the wild
Of Big Sur
Of Big Sur

This whole surface of the world
As we know it know
Will be covered with the silt of a billion years in time

I see as much as doors will allow
A long way from
The Beat Generation
Here comes the nightly mark to his nightly death
In Big Sur
In Big Sur

The best thing to do is not be false
Rocks of the valley
Have left no hall of complaints
I'm just a sick clown, and so is everybody else
In Big Sur
In Big Sur

As the end credits roll “Big Sur” plays signifying the end of the movie but also the end of this particular leg of Jack Kerouac’s journey. At the conclusion of the novel, Jack has just emerged from a night filled with terrifying hallucinations of the devil, which finally give way to those of angels singing and a holy cross. When he wakes the next day he is rejuvenated and feels free from the horrors he’s endured and induced on himself. 

Because this song concludes the movie, many of the words, which originally described the beginning of his stay in Bixby, take on new meaning. Now these words take on the form of self-reflection and self-realization, which Kerouac had a lot of time for during those first three weeks alone in the canyon. Farrar composes,

Peace you’re lookin’ for

Peace you’ll find

In the tanglement of cliff sides and crashin’ down

Of Big Sur,

and the southern-style lilt of his voice does give the impression that a degree of peace has been reached. Kerouac also reaches a state of self-acceptance, though it’s not clear whether the realization is a relief or more of a burden. In Farrar’s words this is evident when he sings, “I’m just a sick clown and so is everybody else.” Though the realization is neither clearly positive, nor clearly negative, I think Kerouac finds comfort in having any realization at all, in reaching some kind of conclusion about something, even if it is this thing.

The novel finally ends with Kerouac in a positive state of mind. He’ll go home, back East. His mother will be there waiting with her arms open. Jackie, his then girlfriend, will find a better life without him. He will be OK. Kerouac concludes the novel with, “Something good will come out of all things yet and it will be golden and eternal just like that. There’s no need to say another word.” What I like about ending the documentary with “Bug Sur” is that it depicts some uncertainty – though Kerouac sounds sure that good things will happen, he can’t without doubt predict them, which is why Farrar writes,

I see as much as doors will allow

A long way from

The Beat Generation.

He cannot see what changes will come, but know they will because he’s already experienced and witnessed so many changes.

Jack Kerouac’s story is much more complex than the songs on One Fast Move or I’m Gone portray. The point of the album, though, is not to tell the entire story, but essentially create a soundtrack for the novel, not the documentary. What’s really important about the record is that it is really melding three genres together – music, prose and poetry – while still remaining true to Jack Kerouac’s language and style. Not an easy task. What the record proves is not that lyrics are necessarily the same as poetry, but that they feed off each other to the point where one might not exist without the other. By combining three different genres to create the record, Gibbard and Farrar made something that can’t be classified as any one type of art, which I think may be getting closer to the answer I’ve been looking for through all of this musical and poetic exploration – maybe they are not separate things, maybe they are not the same either, but maybe poetry and lyrics are two things that weave together sometimes to create some other thing. For now, that’s the answer I’ll stick with.