Murray Lachlan Young
This week鈥檚 poet, Murray Lachlan Young, has performed in many diverse situations: Mega festivals (and little ones), TV, film and theatre. From Shakespeare鈥檚 Globe to Speakers Corner via the main stage at Glastonbury. He has won over hostile crowds, been threatened with violence and even had to run for his life.
Murray shot to fame in the late 鈥90s after securing a one million pound record deal, the first spoken word artist to be given such a deal by the mainstream music industry. In an attempt to escape all the hype he hightailed it to Italy, then lived in Paris and Sussex before settling in Cornwall with his family.
.
Oh Nigel, really!
Musak is a chemical spill, corrupts the mind and blunts the quill
Musak is a conspiracy between the record industries
To steal our souls which once were free
Whilst they clock up their 'PRS' fee.
And you Nigel,
A revolutionary?
Come to set the people free?
So when you have triumphed
In your bloody battle
On the floors of Virgin and HMV
When you have set up your revolutionary musak eradication programme
Tell me-
Who makes the cut?
Who gets the chop?
Who walks away?
Who takes the drop?
The cars that go 鈥榖oom鈥
The toilets sing?
The busker? The whistler?
The mobile phone ring
But, what of the fridge?
Of the motorway drone
Could it be my dear, dear Sir?
The Parakeet has upped and flown
The box is blown empty the case has been shut?
May I suggest you clime a hill and lock yourself inside a hut?
Hey ho.
Hey ho the show鈥檚 pedalo has reached Miami my friends
Can it be just a year and a day?
Since old Mrs Humphries waved us off (around the rivers bend?)
Straight into a storm and a mountainous swell
Where a hideous Music filled our ears.
Then the sea turned to sand and the sun beat down
First our calves began to shrink as we gabbled in our beards
But then at last oh God be praised!
As Tocsvig was seen in the east!
Clutching her trophy she lead us away
As our sails caught her powerful breeze
Then Land ho me hearties cries fair captain Glover
We all give a cheer 鈥渨e鈥檙e alive!鈥
So a salty farewell from the captain and crew
Of the good ship Saturday live.
Hello Murray here,
Complain about this postI have to dash and catch my train back to Penzance.
I will edit the poems over the weekend and post them on Monday.
poetry, you see, is like a good curry- always better after a rest.
Thanks for listening.
M
Hey Murray - love the poems but I've been waiting all week for you to put Goths on the Beach up on the website...will it apear anywhere else?
Complain about this postWas half listening to the prog this morning and caught your poem which stopped me in my tracks.
Complain about this postPlease can you send or post a copy of the one about all the things that want to be something else. Boy! did it strike a chord!!
Hello Murray, I'm with Julia - I loved Goths on the Beach. I wanted to share it with some suspect goth lovers. Please can we.
Complain about this postYes, Murray, really.
From Cornwall's quiet corner and muted mines
The voice spoke clear, but faint and thin,
And questions fast and loose as snakes
Slid through the air, slipped off the tapes
And hissed what never need be said:
"Who makes the cut?"
"Who gets the chop?"
The answer is of course, just us.
But scared to grasp the critic's sword
We tolerate what we should not:
Loud, crashing, disharmonious sounds
Invade our minds, assault our souls.
In M&S and Phones 4 U
The speakers shriek, " Cacophony!"
And beaten people, cowed and stunned
Seethe silently; the muzak's won.
Yes, Virgin's, and, yes, HMV's
Drum beats thump continuously
But restaurants
And surgeries
And offices
And public loos
Inflict this mindless muzak too.
Let's stop for thought;
Let's plead for calm.
A little quiet;
Where's the harm?
Nigel
Complain about this postI there, just reading through some posts from 24th March - did the poem Goths on the Beach every get posted by Murray L. Young? I would love to hear/read it again.
Complain about this postMany thanks