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Thursday, 10 October 2024

The Dark Is Rising

I can start to feel November's presence bearing down on me. Isaac's birthday was/ is the 23rd and the anniversary of his death comes a week later on the 30th. The first November after he died, November 2022, was awful, the anniversaries coming thick and fast and then going straight into December and everything that that month brings. Last year's November was no better and in some ways maybe worse. The passing of time, one year since he died, then two, and now, in November 2024, it will be three years. In some ways it doesn't seem feasible that it can already be three years since he was last with us but time keeps marching on and he slips a little further into the past every day, getting further away in little ways all the time. Three years on I can think of him and smile now which hasn't always been the case in the time since he died- sometimes it was impossible to think of him and it not be painful so I guess that's some kind of progress- but I'm not looking forward to November and can feel it already casting a shadow. 

In September 1998 Mercury Rev released an album which completely changed their world- Deserter's Songs. Coincidentally this was just two months before Isaac was born. Deserter's Songs was the group's fourth album but it brought them success and renown they'd never had before, an album of perfectly played and sung songs that mixed end of the century fragilities and anxieties, the Catskills mountains, whispered psychedelic poetry, the old weird America that Bob Dylan and Greil Marcus talked about, and baroque chamber pop, made by a group recovering from breakdowns, addiction and break ups. It was a rebirth and is one of those albums that never seems to age or fade or lose its power and appeal. 

In 2001 Mercury Rev followed Deserter's Songs with All Is Dream, a less fragile and more confident record but one still shot through with a certain amount of dread. It opens with The Dark Is Rising, a song that sets out like a 1950s Hollywood blockbuster with huge sweeping strings and then lonely piano. Jonathan Donahue starts singing in that reedy, upper register voice about dreams and loss and bridges burned. The Dark Is Rising is about a lover who has gone but Jonathan has a kind of certainty in the song, he welcomes the darkness because he can hear them, 'somewhere in this song'. The strings and timpani crash back in and a ghostly voice wails away in the background. It's strong stuff- I recall listening to it in 2001 and being quite freaked out by it. 

The Dark Is Rising

The last verse goes like this-

'I dreamed that I was walking and the two of us were talking/ Of all life's mystery/ The words that flow between friends/ Winding streams without end/ I wanted you to see

But it can seem surprising/ When you find yourself aloneAnd now the dark is rising/ And a brand new moon is born
I always dreamed I'd love you/ I never dreamed I'd lose you/ In my dreams I'm always strong'

My dreams have been all over the place for a long time now, made more vivid and disturbed by the statins I've been taking for over a year now. Isaac has been appearing more and more regularly in them. After he died, when he appeared in my dreams he was always 23, the age he was when he died. Now when I dream about him he's often much younger. I don't what that means or if it means anything. I'm not sure what The Dark Is Rising means for me either but its been playing in my mind a lot as September has turned into October and November has begun to show its face. And as Jonathan sings in The Dark Is Rising, 'dreams don't last for long'. 

10 comments:

Ernie Goggins said...

Spooky coincidence. I just picked up a copy of this album in a charity shop yesterday.

Hopefully the dreams of Isaac when younger are a sign of happier memories. Will be thinking of you all through your long November.

Charity Chic said...

As Ernie said.
I will give this one a spin later on today and no doubt listen to it in a different light

Mike 100 POEMS said...

What beautiful heartfelt writing Adam. Thank you for sharing. I was never lucky enough to meet Isaac - Loved By All Who Met Him, and you and I have only ever met here. But I have got to know Isaac, and his spirit is in the present, and he is still loved by all who met him - including me here. It's amazing you picked Mercury Rev and Dark Rising - I have a very deep personal connection with that song - it transcends music - there are messages in that song. We are going to see Mercury Rev in Dublin at the end of the month. I will think of you. Lots of love from Ireland to you, Isaac and yours. Mike x

Rol said...

Keeping you in my thoughts as the nights draw in, Adam. Those two Mercury Rev albums were classics.

Martin said...

In permanent awe of how you somehow manage to deal with, and articulate, the unimaginable. Hope the long November is a little easier than you fear.

C said...

You write so beautifully. Thinking of you all x

The Swede said...

Thinking of you all this month Adam.

Swiss Adam said...

Thanks everyone, it means a lot. I sometimes wonder if suddenly dropping these posts in might be a bit too much, oversharing maybe, but putting it (thoughts, feelings) down in words on the screen helps me to deal with it all- to articulate it (and to leave it somewhere maybe). Isaac's death is, as Martin says, the unimaginable- sometimes I still find myself stunned by the fact that it happened, finding myself almost gasping when I say the words 'Isaac's dead'. But it's been a reality for nearly 3 years now, a fact that in itself is difficult to process- how can it be 3 years already? Time is relative in grief I think.

Anonymous said...

It is not too much. Whatever moves you to words is just the thing to write. Thank you for sharing as always Adam.

Khayem said...

It’s difficult to convey how powerful your writing is, Adam, often brutally honest but never maudlin or self-pitying. I’ve been following your blog for several years so I’ve read a lot. I think a first time visitor would be immediately struck by the heart and soul that you pour into your writing and would surely not fail to be moved by it. However it helps you process this terrible, unwanted absence is okay and to echo the others, I am awestruck by your honesty and your humanity. Lots of love to you and the family.