Heroes Not Zombies

This headline caught my eye in today’s Guardian – ‘I was trapped into being alive’. It’s an interview with Robert Wyatt. Ah, Robert Wyatt…….now that takes me back to the late 60s, early 70s, when my friends and I were great Soft Machine fans. So I immediately start to think about that band and head off to youtube to see what I can find. Oh, delight, delight! In two vids there is a live recording of the Softs performing Out-bloody-rageous from the glorious Third album – now this might, or might not, be your cup of tea, but here’s the second part – with Robert Wyatt on drums, Elton Dean on sax, Hugh Hopper on bass and Mike Ratledge on the keyboards. I have this on vinyl (must get round to digitizing my three or four hundred albums!) but haven’t heard it for years!

I’ll leave you to explore more of you like, but this music was revolutionary in its time. It was fresh, exciting and innovative. It was real musicianship. Well, Robert Wyatt fell out of a window and broke his back paralysing him from the waist down for the rest of his life. In his solo career though, he has produced some of his greatest work. He has a most unusual singing voice. Here he is singing Elvis Costello’s Shipbuilding –

In the interview, he says that during his deepest depression in the 90s he was

quite unable to sleep. Couldn’t lie still, revolving in the bed all night, and Alfie had to go upstairs to sleep. Wheeling up and down the corridor at 20 miles an hour, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t write. I lost my sight, I suddenly needed glasses. It felt like dying, but that would have been a release. Physically, as it turns out, I’m very resilient. I was trapped in having to be alive.

Wow! I think that’s an amazing statement. In fact, I meet quite a lot of people who have this kind of experience. Even in the midst of the most awful suffering they discover that they have some kind of life force, some determination to be alive, some resilience, which keeps them toe to toe with the struggle of living and denies them the escape of non-existence.

The final part of the interview really grabbed me too –

Wyatt says his work is instinctive. “A French journalist asked if my music was spiritual, and I said, ‘Only in the original sense of spirit meaning breath.’ I am a breathing animal. If anything, I get lower, not higher, in art to work things out, relying on animal instincts to guide me through what sounds right. Beyond that, it’s unknowable, verbally inaccessible.” He adds, with characteristic self-effacement: “That’s why I work with musicians.”

What a wonderful exploration of the concepts of spiritual versus animal instincts, weaving them together, blurring their distinctions, to focus on what he calls the “unknowable, verbally inaccessible”. Now, I love stories, and I love to write. I am a great fan of words and it delights me to hear my patients’ stories every day but one of the other bigger loves of my life is music. And I think dear, old Robert Wyatt has just hit the nail on the head and explained some of that to me. I know I’ve mentioned here a few times, Deleuze’s three ways of thinking, but this makes me realise that two of my most favourite ways of experiencing the world are through stories and through music.

So, from this little headline in the Guardian, I take a wander down memory lane, accessing almost forgotten parts of my being, find myself singing along to Shipbuilding, and musing about the totally bloody amazing thing it is to be a human being.