Back in day I made a habit of traveling to different destinations that had a festival that was part of the IJFO — the International Jazz Festival Organization — a little box ticking exercise of mine of yore that is now on indefinite hiatus. Maybe I’ll get back to it some day. But it’s simply not tenable these days and it was always a bit lonely anyway, however exotic the destination was, without someone to travel with.
So that’s how I ended up in Western Finland — driving back and forth between this little town called Pori and the location I ended up staying at some 40 minutes away (usually I prefer the train in Europe, but not possible that time round). Plenty of time to observe the Finnish countryside, and plenty enough light at that latitude even at midnight, after the festival had wrapped up. So I wrote “A Finnish Midsummer Midnight” — I won’t claim the botanical litany in the verses is entirely accurate — but the bridge — “now I’m so far away from the crowds, all those people that make me feel so lost and alone — the only time I don’t feel lonely is when I’m truly on my own” — that was real.
Travel on your own has its advantages (you can set your own pace, for instance). But it can get dispiriting to be around so many people yet feel isolated — perhaps counter intuitively desiring to flee deeper into that isolation as a way to somehow salve the wound. And in the end, if you have no one to share the experience with, what are you left with? Sometimes I think I was only in it for the t-shirt.
lyrics
I’m driving through the languid twilight
Of a Finnish mid-summer midnight
There’s absolutely no one in sight
And I intend to keep it that way
As I careen along the undulating country roads
Flecks of willow herb flicker in the headlights
And the lacy yellow bedstraw and meadowsweet glow
Transforming into a latticework of pure moonlight
I’m driving through the languid twilight
Of a Finnish mid-summer midnight
There’s absolutely no one in sight
And I intend to keep it that way
The cat-scratched birch bark interleaves
Through the naked amber trunks of the spindly pines
Their flying buttress limbs support the inkblot canopy
Their tapered tips define that jagged skyline
Now I’m so far from the festival and its crowds
All those people that make feel so lost and alone
The only time I don’t feel lonely
Is when I’m truly on my own
Pale buttercup farmhouses, brick red barns
Some fog nestles in the fields dappled yellow with rapeseed
I glimpse a pair of twin pursuers my rear view mirror
To elude them in the twists of the road, I increase my speed
I’m driving through the languid twilight
Of a Finnish mid-summer midnight
There’s absolutely no one in sight
And I intend to keep it that way
credits
from At Home At Sea,
released July 12, 2019
E.G. Phillips (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Charles Choi (Violin),
Jesse Elkin Rubin (Baritone Sax, Trumpet),
Ben Osheroff (Electric Guitar, Organ),
Sean Silverman (Upright Bass), Ben Visini (Drum Kit)
produced, recorded and mixed by Ben Osheroff
mastered by Matt Boudreau, Working Class Audio
songs and artwork by E.G. Phillips (ASCAP)
published by Ducks With Pants Music (@duckswithpants)
E.G. Phillips is a San Francisco based songwriter who creates lyric driven songs with his own special blend of whimsy and cinematic imagery which he uses to give a wry take on dealing with the longings of the heart and the madness of existence.
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