If you were fortunate enough to catch Michael and Liz Lochhead's recent tour of In Flagrant Delicht you would have heard Liz recite her wonderful poem " Ira and George" about the songwriting Gershwin brothers which she has dedicated to Michael. We think it is so good that we thought you might enjoy reading it for yourself.
The poem, along with others that featured in the recent show, can be found in a collection of Liz Lochhead's poems titled " The Colour of Black & White - Poems 1984 - 2003" published by Polygon and available at all decent bookshops. Ira and George for Michael Marra 'First the phonecall' as the man said - and he sure said a mouthful - to that 'which comes first,words or music?' question. Who knows? Except: for every good one there are ten in the trash, songs you slaved over that just won't sing, in which no lover ever will hear some wisecrack twist itself to tell his unique heatbreak(so sore, so personal) so well he can't stop humming it. The simplist three chord melody might have legs once it's got the lyric, not tunesmith's ham-and-eggs. Each catchphrase, colloquilism, each cliche each snatch of overheard-on-the-subway or street can say so much, so much when rhymed right, when phrased just-so to fit its own tune that was born for it. A Manhattan night in twenty-nine or thirty, It's late, you're reading Herrick. Just back from a party, your brother calls out 'Hey let's work!' You watch him shuck his jacket, loose his black-tie and grab your book. 'Gather ye rosebuds' he says, and slams it shut. He's right. Hard against the deadline and at night - shoes off, moon up (just daring you), piano open - that's when you two can make it happen. The tune that smells like an onion? Play it very slow, then the one that sounds like the Staten Island Ferry till you hear the words - brother, they're already there under the siren and the train and the cab horn blare of his jazz of endless possibilities that will only fit its own fine-tuned lyric that is born for it Copyright@Liz Lochhead 2003
