Just a quick word here on the title of this blog. There is a piece in Openers II entitled simply "A Poem". I am guessing it is probably found in the original Openers, though I am not certain. At any rate, the poem mainly deals, in a syntactically tortured way, with recognizing Christ as Savior and what follows from that recognition. Near the center of the poem is a stanza that begins with the very un-Roky like line (because so straightforward, though blooming fabric is odd), "The purple organdies blooming," followed immediately by the more typical "the forest blissens with song." It is an arresting image, made memorable by the neologism. Unlike much of his work, the sense of the line is instantly and perfectly clear, yet , like much of his work, the language is at once strange and charming. "Strange and charming" would be a good way to define the appeal of much of his writing. As another example from the same poem, consider the second stanza:

The colors after only danger
Christ is no stranger
what place was taken
identity of needed was mistaken.

The first line is very confusing, though the word "colors" will reoccur later in a more explicable context. The question is, are the colors after (in the sense of sequence), only (as in the absence of anything else) danger, or is there an inversion, and should the line then read "the colors only after danger"? Or are the colors after in the sense of pursuit? The line has several readings, depending on how one wishes to define vague terms and grammatical constructs. There is then the second half of the stanza. Is the implication here that the crucifixion was a case of mistaken identity? In light of the rest of the poem, it seems unlikely. It seems more probable that the mistaken identity is that of the poet himself, or anyone else who would question his own worthiness to be saved. There is the reassurance later in the poem that "it is right to be alive," and that you should "know that you belong."

In the penultimate stanza, reference is made to "the different feelings of feelings of no bad bringing needles." This makes the poem seem likely to be about recovery from addiction. Thus the theme of redemption makes perfect sense. The sense of recovery is expressed in terms such as the above "feeling of feelings," as well as in "different colors of colors", "senses of senses" (taste and smell in particular), and "loves of love." This would clearly seem to be a poem that expresses transcendence, an experience of the world made more real through spiritual transformation. That transformation helps the poet see beyond the surface of the world as he has previously experienced it, to see the colors of colors and the senses of senses. It is both intimate and cosmic, eternal and grounded in the moment.

"Nobody would dream of calling the little black notes on the page the music of Bach, and so it is with poetry."
Lew Welch

As with almost all song lyrics, the emotional power and meaning of Erickson's work comes through largely in performance. Of course, this statement does not apply solely to the singer of songs. Poetry, either read aloud or in the mind's ear, becomes a performance. Thus the fixedness of any text can be called into question, since each performance of that text will differ in some way with every other performance. In the final analysis, no version can be considered definitive, even if a particular version of the text, however artificial in view of the foregoing, may be. Therefore, there will be cases when a specific recorded version of a song will be used to illustrate a particular point. The acoustic solo version of "Think of as One" found on Never Say Goodbye can produce a substantially different set of responses than the one performed with Okkervil River on True Love Cast Out All Evil.

The total effect of a song involves many variables, such as lyrics, melody, arrangement, and delivery, as well as others that exist outside the boundary of the song itself. "Ain't Blues Too Sad" from True Love Cast Out All Evil is a good example. Stripped down and basic, the song has the feel of a field recording from Appalachia, especially with the gruff-sounding vocal. What lends the song power is not merely the ragged, world-weary voice, though this is considerable. What lifts the song to another level is the listener's recognition that Erickson, now in his sixties, is singing a song written when in his twenties. The sense of loss, conveyed by the words, but even more so by the voice in the song's final line, is not merely that of an old man, with all the regrets that entails, but that of a young man whose future has been wiped away because, as he states, "electricity hammered me through my head." There is a similar effect on many of the songs on this album, as if Erickson is singing a duet with himself. The inclusion of older recorded material strengthens this perception.

Sources

The primary source for the lyrics examined here will be Openers II, compiled and edited by Casey Monahan (1995, 2.13.61, Los Angeles). As Monahan stated in the Editor's Afterword, his manuscript sources were various; the most reliable was Roky's 1972 book of lyrics and poems, Openers, the source of last resort being Roky himself. At this point in time, Roky obviously took little interest in his own work. There is virtually nothing to identify the source for any particular song. I myself have never seen Openers; or rather, all I have ever seen are autographed copies that are priced far beyond my means, so I was loath to thumb through them too much. The only transcribed lyrics that I would consider to supercede those in Openers II with any kind of authority are those printed in the CD booklets for Never Say Goodbye and True Love Cast Out All Evil. At any rate, it seems to me that there are certain lyrics that are open to interpretation and dispute, so there may be occasions when I depart from the text if I hear a compelling reason to do so. However, unless otherwise stated explicitly, the text used here will be that of Openers II, including lineation, spelling, and punctuation.

The immediate impetus for creating this blog was the April 20 release of True Love Cast Out All Evil, Roky Erickson's first studio album in over fifteen years. I have been trying to put my thoughts on it into words for weeks since, but with little luck thus far. My response to it has been varied, layered as the disc is with a complexity of means and expression. I will almost certainly get into all that over time, but the result of all these ruminations has been to return me to a project I have been mulling over for years, that of exploring in detail the poetic achievements of Roky Erickson. I have never been able to do so in any extended, systematic way; the blog format, however, provides a means to put thing down and out there as they come along. Perhaps in the future I can gather it all up into a more meaningful form, but for now, this will afford me the opportunity to muse as I choose.

As a preliminary statement on how I approach Erickson's work, here is a post from my other, pretty much moribund at this point, blog. This will no doubt appear again later on in a more expanded form in the course of these investigations.