The Time Of No Reply

The Bittersweet Romance Of Nick Drake

Friday, November 07, 2008

What more can possibly be said about Nick Drake's short life that hasn’t already been stated a thousand times over? By most measurements, Drake was considered a well-kept secret during the last 3 decades of the 1900s, yet today with a quick Google search, one can find an astonishing 5,000,000 entries devoted to the man, a remarkable testament to the romance of his legacy. Yet if you divide that figure by 500, you’ll arrive roughly at the number of people who were aware of Drake and his ethereal music during his lifetime. Pondering this as I have many times before, I arrive at the same emotional crossroad that has stymied me time and again --- although gratified that his music has finally taken its rightful place in history, bestowing it the regard it has always warranted --- in my heart of hearts I can’t help but feel sad for the Nick whose mortal soul longed so dearly for that recognition and acceptance.

I first came to hear Nick’s music through a sampler offered by Island Records years ago that I found for a whopping 99p pound sterling. Most of the material featured on the recording was pleasant, some forgettable, but in Drake’s magnificent ‘Northern Sky,’ I was instantly struck by the song’s haunting beauty, a sound that burned itself deep into my psyche. It came of course from the velvet sensuality of his voice, the delicate fingerpicking of his playing and the unexpected tunings of his guitar. But most especially, it lay in the heavy-hearted ache of his words. The whole of his art possessed me for days on end until I finally tracked down a copy of ‘Five Leaves Left,' his debut recording. Once in my possession, the LP rarely left my turntable. I listened to it repeatedly in rapt attention, hypnotized by the exquisite fragility of his songwriting. The loneliness of Nick’s songs contained an ephemeral quality that made them all that much sadder and bittersweet, and how could the source of such vulnerable beauty have long to live for this world? Sadly, it was a facet that became more pronounced with his subsequent recordings, and one that sorrowfully came eventually to pass.

 

At the time, little was known of Drake here in the States. Radio was completely indifferent to him, his delicate music overshadowed by the harder edged rock that ruled the times. A chance encounter with someone who had perhaps heard of his name was remarkable in and of itself, but meeting someone who had actually heard his songs was like meeting a member of a secret society, an astonishing serendipity that immediately placed both parties on equal footing. Then like today, hearing his music was at once a bewitching and consequential experience. In those years, it often seemed that the timbre of Drake’s song craft was so precious, so fragile and so holy, they could never stand a chance for survival under the heavy-handed scrutiny of mass consumption. Like a finely aged wine, ‘Fives Leaves Left,’ ‘Bryter Lyter,' and ‘Pink Moon’ held a uniquely rich, spiritual characteristic that was best reserved for sharing only with those cultivated enough to fully appreciate it’s transcendent magic. I was a member of that society as elitist as it sounds, and although I gladly introduced his music to those with which I felt a kinship, admittedly I doled it out in measured portions. But Nick’s songs are like that, so personal and tender in their elocution that it's like being privy to confidential diary entries. Sacred they seemed to us, and how could one then so blithely bandy them about as though they were mere yard sale flyer's? Compounding that feeling was the veil of mystery that surrounded the the reclusive artist, begging one to wonder whether the sad author of these confessions could have actually been of this mortal coil.

When thinking about Nick, I sometimes arrive at another crossroad, one that I find equally perplexing, if not even downright troubling. Could that so hallowed of reverence that we held for Drake’s music have actually served to work against him? If we had simply spread the gospel of his artistry to all rather than treating it as beyond price, might Nick still be here among us today? In my most dispirited times I think yes, possibly so. But when I truly consider Nick’s disposition, I believe the answer is decidedly no. Drake was a tortured soul, a man out of time, highly sensitive and prone to depression and heartache. His anima was not designed for the cruelty of our world. Some people are simply born with a deep-rooted loneliness that can never be squelched and I believe that Nick was one of them. Like the rare ephemeral flower that can only exist for a few brief glorious moments, Nick too could not have had long to live for this world. Obviously, others recognized this as well. Just look at how so many photos of Nick portray him as the brooding loner, the busy, fast paced world speeding by as he stands apart, alone in his solitude. Drake's songs themselves abound in references to the fleeting nature of life, and even more so, to his own. "Safe in the womb of an everlasting night, you find the darkness can give the brightest light/safe in your place deep in the earth, that’s when they’ll know what you’re really worth” are chilling words, penned by Drake in his sadly prophetic 'Fruit Tree.' Of course, I’ll never really know the answer, and one might suggest that I stand accused, but I contend there is a major difference between the values of yesterday and today, and therein lays the crux. Then, contemporary music in particular was the currency of a generation and Drake’s contribution was that of precious metal and rare gems. Today, contemporary music is omni-present, legal tender in any arena from blogs like this one to online podcasts. It's available to us through all manner of acquisition from instant gratification downloads to the purchase of magazines and cups of coffee. It's carried with us via laptops, cell phones and portable mp3 players. And it's utilized in corporate presentations, presidential campaign rallies, and yes, even television commercials like the one where many were first were exposed to Nick Drake. The value of music becomes deflated through this saturation, and was this the exchange rate that something as stirring and emotive as ‘River Man’ deserved?

This time of year as the autumn sun casts long shadows, I instinctively turn to Drake’s music as his songs have always evoked this season of transformation. The last days of October are washed with a golden light that filters through the trees, their vibrant leaves rustling in a last dying gasp of splendor. Slowly, the branches, along with the waning warmth of the sun surrender to the chill winds and bleak, somber skies of the long winter months to come. This is the music of Nick Drake --- his essence --- the embodiment of that melancholy transition from the promise of summer to the cold, dark, windswept landscape of winter. Apply this as a metaphor for the internal workings of ‘a man out of time,’ and you’ve come to the singular most striking richness of Drake’s song, as well as an informed understanding of his psyche.

Of course today, most anyone who appreciates quality music is not only familiar with Nick’s name, but also with his music, and I’ve come to believe that his newfound popularity is not such a bad thing after all. The years between then and now have proven in fact that at least his music could stand the harshness of time and exposure to the light. The only thing shattered by his wide recognition is that previously mentioned secret society, and now Drake belongs to the world, taking his rightful place in history as the creator of some of the most exquisite beauty in our lifetime. I still lament that Nick never lived to bask in the glow of his belated adoration, but his timeless music remains behind for us all to appreciate in spellbound reverence. Through it, Nick does live on in a way he could have never imagined in his lifetime and I wish that he could know this. But somehow, someway, I hope that his beautiful soul has finally found the blessed release for which it had always longed, and if my contentions regarding his mortality are wrong, I hope too that he will be forgiving.

 The Time Of No Reply

 

1) Time Of No Reply
2) Black-Eyed Dog
3) Three Hours (Alternate)
4) Clothes Of Sand
5) Voice From The Mountain
6) Magic (Alternate)
7) River Man
8) Way To Blue
9) Introduction
10) Hazey Jane II
11) At The Chime Of A City Clock
12) Northern Sky
13) Pink Moon
14) Place To Be
15) Horn
16) Things Behind The Sun
17) The Thoughts Of Mary Jane
18) One Of These Things First
19) Hazey Jane I
20) Cello Song
21) Saturday Sun
22) Ghost (Early Morning)
23) Bryter Layter

An Open Letter To Nick From Gabrielle Drake

The source material for 'The Time Of No Reply' comes from the following recordings:
 Five Leaves Left (1969)/Bryter Layter (1970)/Pink Moon (1972)
Time Of No Reply (1986)/Made To Love Magic (2004)
and Second Grace (Unknown)
'An Open Letter To Nick'
comes courtesy of Bryter Music, the official website for the estate of Nick Drake