Little signs of hope in a pinched existence

Daffodils courtesy of http://www.freefoto.com

Today my Mum would have been 85. She died five years ago. I wish she was still here to talk to. I miss her and I especially miss her when going through a rough patch such as the one which seems reluctant to let go of me since the New Year.

I'm still here and struggling to get everything done that has to be done and, in the present situation, that means there's little left for 'niceties' like writing the blog and following other blogs. I know this is wrong. I know that I should make time for the little things that cheer in order to take the strain off the rest of the load but it just don't seem possible: I'm either doing what has to be done or in bed.

I hate this pinched existence and I'm trying desperately to make up lost ground. I miss you all and miss the interactivity and random relationships of blog-world but even the computer seems against me --- all sorts of problems and then wretched Blogger/Google decided to lock me out earlier in the week by refusing to accept the password I have had and has been accepted for over a year so that I couldn't even leave comments on others blogs.

Today the sun is shining and the daffodils are coming up --- little signs of hope.

Great Dusty Song

I've been listening to quite a lot of Dusty the last few days and rediscovered a great story song she did in the 70s. It's not well known at all but it conjures up all sorts of images and plots for me.To me it's very filmic.

No videos on YouTube but you can hear it on Last FM.


here

Only but not alone

It's all anniversaries at the moment. Five years ago today my mother died. All those months of hospital appointments, hospice visits, arrangements for carers, nurses...all the conversations on the phone. All the times I cursed my own ill health for obstructing me from visiting, supporting as much as I wanted and needed to...and the suddenly it was all over. She had gone. I'd done my best and now it was time to tidy up. put things in order, say goodbye and move forward.

I'm not sad today...just recognising a passing. My mother spent much of her life in ill health but she always got back up and moved forward. She was gentle and kind. I give thanks that I was blessed with such loving parents. Being an only child makes you closer still and my mother was an 'only' too. Now she's gone there is no Cusp family from before...only the one here now --- me, my partner and our two children. I see my mother in my daughter...her eyes, her shyness, her sense of humour, her creativity and I know that, whatever the truth about life, death, God that we all live on in our children and our children's children.

Dusty Springfield 16.4.39 - 2.3.99

Ten years since Dusty died: my favourite singer and, close to my heart for all sorts of reasons, her songs are part of the soundtrack to my life.

Dusty was a pioneer of white soul, a brilliant interpreter of songs by Bacharach, Randy Newman, Jacques Brel and many of the other best song writers of that era -- Mann & Weil, Goffin & King. She could sing ballads, country, soul, folk and pop and suffuse any song with real emotion and her own individual ‘take’: she always gave her all.

Dusty was often seen as just another 60s girl singer in the line with Lulu, Sandie and Cilla but she fought hard for the integrity of her work and, although she was given no credit at the time, she in fact produced and co-produced many of her songs. She strived to reproduce an authentic soul sound in studios peopled by old fashioned musicians more used to backing Cliff or Adam Faith. Her feistiness and perfectionism often led to accusations of tyrannical behaviour but she knew what worked, wanted the best and wouldn’t be satisfied until she got it.

Dusty lauded and promoted Motown in the UK. After the disastrous Motown UK ‘Ghost Tour’ (so called because hardly anyone came to the concerts) she fought hard to ensure that authentic performances of Motown music were heard by more people in the UK and that Motown artists were properly recognised. Most people in the UK only knew that music through the tepid interpretations of home grown groups like The Beatles and The Stones. With Dusty’s backing and persuasion the Ready Steady Go Motown Special was brought to ITV. Almost certainly, without her backing it would probably never have happened but thanks to her the wonderful joyful sound of acts like Martha and the Vandellas, The Supremes, Four Tops etc became more widely heard and appreciated.

Partly on the back of making her 1969 classic album ‘Dusty in Memphis’, where she worked with the same musicians and producers as Aretha, Dusty moved to the US and more or less stayed there until the mid 80s. Life in the US was tough and she had a hard time emotionally, spiritually and financially. Lack of self confidence and never being able to accept that what she created was good enough led to all sorts of difficulties but gradually she pulled through. In the 80s she found renewed success with the Pet Shop Boys and moved home to the UK.

Finally in the 90s her real talent and achievements were recognised but she became ill with breast cancer and finally succumbed to the disease in 1999. She died on the day she had been due to go to Buckingham Palace to receive her OBE. Officials of St James’s Palace gave permission for the medal to be collected by Springfield's manager, Vicki Wickham, who presented it to Dusty in hospital.

Her death really affected me: not because I am an obsessive fan but because I had followed her from childhood and so many of her songs are connected to key moments in my life. She was creative, talented, rebellious, principled, funny and generous. I never met her. She died ten days after my father. I miss them both.

Here’s a lovely clip from the RSG Motown Special of Dusty singing with Martha and the Vandellas who were already close friends

Some links to other tributes:

Pop Junkie

The Wild Reed

The Music's Over

Dusty Springfield Network