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Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Next Time


On Friday, the first song we recorded was “Next Time,” a reflection on my family. The tough gospel/blues arrangement automatically implies a rough, abusive situation, when in fact, our family troubles were more about neglect and serious dysfunction. You don’t have get hit to get hurt. Hmmm—that sounds like another song!

My father was a full-blown narcissist. This disorder has a way of undermining a family without anyone overtly noticing it. The wounding he carried from his family wreaked serious emotional damage on the rest of us.

My Mom was an embattled sweetheart. Her art was my creative inspiration, but she was held down by my father. She was also emotionally fragile and had a breakdown when I was three months old, and had to leave for a period. Abandonment feelings? You bet!

My response to all of this was to be the good boy—the hardworking one who brightened up the family darkness. When I perform or take on projects now, I have to be sure that it’s for me and not for those old reasons. It took a lot of personal work to release that burden.

The phrase, “My mama died too early and my daddy lived too long,” simply appeared to me one day. I knew I had a blues song!

I’m not a Christian, but I often refer to Jesus because that character has such powerful, iconic meaning in our culture. In this song, “Oh Jesus” can be felt as both a curse and a call. I also think it’s amusing that I’m calling on Jesus to have me reincarnated!

The graveyard image is from the burial of my father’s ashes. There were only four of us, like the lines of a song, the corners of a box, the seasons of the year—the Cemetery director, the gravedigger, Jane, and me. I felt I couldn’t just hand over the urn and leave. I had to watch the gravedigger put it in the ground, fill the hole, and pack it down with his boot. It reminded me of Dylan’s “Masters of War” -

And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

Then I felt that something had finished. Some chain of pain had been broken for good. But no longer having parents can be a strange mixture of relief, loss, and strange spaciousness.

I’m on an empty road tonight


Next Time
© 2009 Sam Turton

My mama died too early
My daddy lived too long
My mama got some things right
My daddy got ‘em wrong

Oh Jesus, next time make it easy
Give me a cold, cold heart of stone
Or Mama, next time
Don’t you leave me on my own

My mama had her demons
And Daddy made it hell
And none of us escaped it
As far as I can tell

Oh Jesus, next time make it easy
Give me a cold, cold heart of stone
Or Mama, next time
Don’t you leave me on my own

Dig the grave and fill it
Pack the dirt down tight
Lock the gate behind me
I’m on an empty road tonight

Oh Jesus, next time make it easy
Give me a cold, cold heart of stone
Or Mama, next time
Don’t you leave me on my own

The next time - Mama, I need ya to stay
The next time - Daddy, don’t block my way
The next time - Mama, please turn around
The next time - Daddy, don’t drag me down

The next time - Mama, don’t die so soon
The next time - Daddy, don’t be a fool
The next time - Mama, take me by the hand
The next time - Daddy, gotta be a man

The next time


I completed that painting in 1972. My mother loved her cup of tea, and I did this one for her. When she died, I had the pot and cup carved into the gravestone.


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