Tonight local eclectic combo Dr. Caterwaul’s Cadre of
Clairvoyant Claptraps take the stage at Café Nine in New Haven. So today’s song
is in honor of them. “O Death” is one of those great American songs—dirge,
actually—that “no one wrote” because, in a way, everyone did, or we all do,
sooner or later. This song is a gripping confrontation with the Grim Reaper and
as The Doors’ frontman used to say “No one here gets out alive.” Cheery as that
thought might be, it’s a kickass song and Dr. CCCC has performed it live many
times. Maybe they’ll even perform it dead, who can say.
The version they do, which can be found in greatly altered
form on their CD Songs of Mirth and Sorrow derives from Doc Boggs’ version.
The version I know best is the one Camper van Beethoven placed on their great,
inspiring, never to be out-done classic from 1988, Our Beloved Revolutionary
Sweetheart. Like Dr. CCCC, Camper van
throw together a wide variety of musical influences, including bluegrass, punk,
folk, klezmer and gypsy music. Dr. CCCC
hits all those and a bunch more. Which is why I like them so much. Going to one
of their shows is like going to a great smorgasbord of various ethnic foods. It
all tastes good, and you’re never sure what you’re eating.
 |
| Dr. Caterwaul's Cadre of Clairvoyant Claptraps |
This song, as sung by David Lowery, reaches a kind of celebration
of death, if only because the song is sung both from the point of view of death
itself and from the point of view of death’s victim. “That chill you feel, it
comes from me” is my favorite line as death sounds so pleased with himself
there. But he also has some other choice comments such as “Cast aside the flesh
of thee / Cast aside and set you free.” Damn nice of him, when you put it like
that.
Of course the victim’s view is “O death, can’t you spare me
over for another year.” That, I imagine, is the voice of just about everyone
when faced with extinction. Hell, no matter how bad it is (and it can get
pretty bad, I imagine) one more year ain’t gonna kill me—’less it does. So . .
. as Fred Nietzsche used to say, in the voice of his man Zarathustra: “‘Was that life?’ I will say to death, ‘well
then, once more!’” Or if not once more
then at least, one more year!
 |
| Camper van Beethoven |
But in the C van B version it ends grimly: “Feel the sheet
pulling over me.” And, no, that doesn’t mean he’s getting all cozy, that’s the
sheet they pull over your head for the big finis.
Anyway, maybe I picked this song too because of yesterday’s
post on “The Needle and the Damage Done” because nothing says untimely death
like a celebrity nipped in his prime, we might say, and nothing says “date with
death” like the fact that, no matter who you are, when the time comes it doth
come. “I’ll come anon,” we say to death. And then anon is now. “Done too soon,”
as the Neil Diamond songs says, and where was I? Who knows because I’m not there any more.
I’ve always liked this song for having the kind of gallows’
humor I associate with Hamlet, that sense that the shock of death in one's elder is enough to
make a man grow giddy, antic even. For when the parental generation goes, why
then, guess who’s next in line?
And that’s a fair thought for a cold winter’s night, no?
 |
| Delacroix's Hamlet and the Gravediggers |
No comments:
Post a Comment