Pink Moon


Pink MoonA few years ago, I noticed that people started to talk about Nick Drake. I had never heard of him. I thought he was a new artist. It was odd, because his name began popping up here and there. I went to All Music guide and read this. From the AMG entry:

“He managed to produce one final full-length work, “Pink Moon.” (1972), a desolate solo acoustic album that ranks as one of the most naked and bleak statements in all of rock. He did record a few more songs before his death…”

I was intrigued, and I made a note to myself to try and find the record.
A few days later, my sister-in-law stopped by the house and told us, “You guys have to hear this CD,” and gave us a copy of Pink Moon. Odd again. I put the CD aside and figured I would get to it soon.

My job keeps me on the road, often from Sunday throught Friday. I told my wife this one Sunday afternoon that I wanted to rest before I hit the road, and went up to the bedroom. I slipped Pink Moon into the CD player, turned out the lights and hit play on the remote.

I was not expecting it. The title track leads off the album. It starts with this solo acoustic guitar that is haunting from the first strum. And then this sad, expressive, resigned voice filled the room.

“I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink Moon is on its way
None of you stand so tall
Pink Moon gonna get you all
And it’s a Pink Moon,
Yeah it’s a Pink Moon
Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink
Pink Moon”

Then, this very sparse piano part that has its roots in the melody played on top of the one acoustic guitar.

Devastating.

After that, he just sings the first verse again.

“I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink Moon is on its way
None of you stand so tall
Pink Moon gonna get you all
And it’s a Pink Moon,
Yeah it’s a Pink Moon
Pink Pink Pink Pink Pink Moon”

And then it was over.
2:02.
Over.

I ran downstairs and fetched wife. “You have to hear this song. Now.”

We sat down and listened together.

Jeez.

The album clocks in at about 28 minutes, and it is an aural representation of real, honest, depression. Not Sting bragging about being The King of Pain. Not the blues. Not John Lennon. It is a quiet acceptance, a resignation. He seems to be saying, “Pain is part of my life, and I accept it. It is just the way things are. “

From track 3: “Road”

“You can say the sun is shining if you really want to
I can see the moon and it seems so clear
You can take the road that takes you to the stars now
I can take a road that’ll see me through
I can take a road that’ll see me through.

You can take a road that takes you to the stars now
I can take a road that’ll see me through
I can take a road that’ll see me through
I can take a road that’ll see me through.”

It was my wife’s turn this time. When I went on the road that week, she took the CD and listened to it. When I got back she said, “Listen to this one again. It may be the saddest song that I’ve ever heard.” (Quoting the lyric.)

‘You can take the road that takes you to the stars now
I can take the road that’ll see me through.’ ”

“How SAD is that?” she said. “He has given up on any dream. He just wants to get through the day.”

The record is eerie. You feel like he is in the room. You feel like you know him. You feel like you can see a hint of a smile on his face as he sings, almost whispers to you the depth of his experience in a world that is just so painful, just so dark and so dreary. Not asking for your pity or your remedy. Just informing you. The smile is not ironic. It is an indication that he has found some respite, some peace inside these songs.

One can imagine how I must have felt when I found out that the title track was featured in a Volkswagen commercial. I hate it that my songs, my songs, the soundtrack of my life are used to sell things. I remember back in the 80’s, there was a furniture store that took Beethoven’s 5th and touted their $999 sale.

Nine ninety NINE!
Nine ninety NINE!

Oh the rage and rancor that swelled inside my 20 something idealist consciousness! I’d be driving along, and I would hear the theme, and I would picture Alex with his eyelids held open by the alligator clips crying, Not the lovely lovely Ludwig Van!

NINE NINETY NINE!
NINE NINETY NINE!

Anyway.

I never saw the Volkswagen commercial aired, except on a VH1 show about Nick Drake. One of life’s many contradictions is that my mind has not changed one degree away from the fact that corporations should not use art to sell their stuff, but the fact is, the Volkswagen commercial was directly responsible for the resurgence of interest in Nick Drake, and who knows when I would have heard this beautiful record had they not besmirched its artistic value?

None of you stand so tall.

Man, I love that line.

[Edit from a post I did at my place back in '05.]

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March 14th, 2007
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Viewing 7 Comments

    • ^
    • v
    Nick Drake's album was really mesmerizing. It had gotten fairly good reviews.
    • ^
    • v
    Has read with the pleasure, very interesting post, write still, good luck to you!
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    • v
    I love Nick Drake. I'd never heard of him until this year, as a matter of fact. My wife told me about a Leonard Cohen song she liked and I tracked it down for her on Napster-To-Go. I didn't care for the Cohen song, which is a usual response, but the recommendations led me to two of my new (to me, of course) favorite performers. Big Bill Broonzy and Nick Drake. I loaded all three of Drake's albums onto my iRiver and listened for days.
    Two aspects of his life fascinate me and why I'm not sure. He announced the release of his first album to his sister by tossing it on her bed and saying, "There you are" and walking out. Also, towards the end of his life his live performances become unbearable because of the incredible amount of time he spent changing tunings between songs.
    The poetry of his work can't be caught in the reading of his lyrics, though, which really only make sense in the context of his performance. But that's a problem with writing about music in general, I guess.
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    Jason:

    I have the Way To Blue collection and I like the songs you reference as well.

    Not sure if agree with your opinion regarding Parasite, but it is a fair point and open for debate at least.

    Christian:

    Excellent comments. I agree that as these things go, the VW commercial is a good exception to the rule. I tried to express my ambivalence on the subject, and I appreciate you expanding upon it.

    I haven't made many references to XTC here at NC, but they are surely one of my all-time favorite bands. You can hear Nick's influence in some of Andy Partridge's songs, most notably Love on a Farmboy's Wages (from their excellent album Mummer - which can be found here.)
    It is a nice tribute to Cello Song.
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    • v
    An absolute all-time album.

    His first record, Five Leaves Left, is a less-stark but equally great record, featuring slightly more instrumentation (Richard Thompson, John Cale and Danny Thompson appear with some tasteful contributions). Cello Song, Time Has Told Me, and River Man are classics.

    The second record, Bryter Lyter, is also very good, though with slightly more dated instrumentation. I prefer both other albums.

    One of the things that makes these minimalist tracks stand out isn't just the open tuning and picking patterns, but that for most songs the lower strings are tuned down into C/G terroritory, giving the guitar a woodier presence.

    I wouldn't be offended by the VW ad, for two reasons.

    The first, lesser one, is that the ad is a major reason why many people today have heard of him. I think the albums sold in the low thousands in their own era, and as far as i'm concerned its better that he has found his audience. Drake’s sister and head of his estate, actress Gabrielle Drake:

    “Nick is dead, and those of us who are left to protect and promote his memory and his music are faced with the almost impossible task of knowing how he would have wanted this done. But if there’s one thing of which I am sure, it is that he wanted to communicate through his music. He wanted it heard. Thousands more people in the U.S. have become aware of Nick Drake’s music through the VW commercial. Given that the commercial is tasteful and sensitive, I think that Nick would have not only approved of his music being used, but also been quietly pleased, and quite amused.”

    More importantly, I work in film and have always considered that ad to be a real gem, one of the most evocative and efficient 30 second spots I've ever seen.

    The silent intimacy of youth on a nightime drive, top down, under the stars. The song. Crickets and stars, and cool air. A moment of magic when they drive through some floating dandelion seeds. When they pull off the road to their destination, a party, a reveller stumbles. Without anyone saying a word they exchange looks, the white glow of a reverse light, the car pulls out again to hold onto the mood, a beautifully romantic shot of the girl giving a look over her shoulder.

    Its a spot that is quiet, that celebrates quiet, and intimacy, and tells its story in hints. Quick wide shot of strung lights to a medium of a stumble paints a picture of the outdoor beer bust we've all gone to. A quick reverse shot of a glance. The quick shot of the reverse light.

    There is no mountain road, no driving beat, no very clear shots of the car itself, no fancy wipes (no transitions more complicated than a straight cut or dip to black). A revolutionary commercial for the auto industry.

    We live in a din of attention-seeking ads as demographic cliches; silcon tit fests, beer gags, dorito acrobatics, punchline and catchphrase cynicism as practiced by 40sometings desperate to get to youth.

    The VW ad, subtle and romantic, is one of truest ads in its portrayal of the feeling of being young, when being with friends doing not much of anything could feel as special as the most momentus event (and often does even in hindsight).
    • ^
    • v
    btw, the title is Black-Eyed Dog, not Black Dog
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    • v
    Pink Moon is one of the greatest albums I know.

    It took me years, and a serious bout of depression, to warm up to Nick Drake, and his first two albums are in places too arch, too stuck in their time (Cambridge mid-1960s). But Pink Moon is dazzlingly simple.

    It's not hard to write simple, but it's extremely hard to write deep AND true AND original AND simple. And that's Drake at his best.

    Plus he was a phenomenal fingerstyle guitarist w/ crazy ass tunings (I think Road is played with 5 of the 6 strings tuned to D).

    Yeah his rep grew over the years on a Sylvia Plath romance of the dead depressive mythos, but that's a damn shame; although he died young and left behind very little music what he did leave is good enough to stand on its own without the added romance.

    Check, if you haven't, Black Dog, with it's carnatic sounding guitar part, from the posthumous anthology Way to Blue and Time has Told Me, which kicks off Drake's first album and features a young Richard Thompson on guitar (at the time Richard wasn't 1/4 the guitarist that Drake was).

    Road is great, probably my favorite Nick Drake song (tho' Which Will is also immaculate). But Road is not even the saddest song on the record. What about Parasite?
 

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