Webservations

It has taken me a while to write this post. Sometimes news just hits you. You keep going – distilling the meaning and then at some point in the future – you revisit. I am revisiting.

I have got to that age where contemporaries of mine are dying. Actually – I was 16 when a contemporary of mine first died. Since then only a few people in my immediate circle have ‘moved on’. Even fewer – thankfully – of my really close friends. So when they do, it makes a significant mark.

When I first heard of the news of my long time friend Keith Brandon dying in London, his wife had sent me a message. I called her. We talked. Our hey day of friendship was the 70s through the 80s – and like so much in life , we lost touch. Didn’t help that I moved to California in 1990, but when I found myself back in London a few years ago – I looked up Keith and Alison.

Our friendship was centered on so many different things – including music. Our tastes just meshed. The point of this post is not to write about Keith, and our past. Not to ask ‘why’ ? But rather to stop for two minutes and celebrate his life – through Music.

Keith and Alison were already married when I first met them in 1976. Hats off to them both how their love and marriage survived all the perils of the modern world – until now. The Grateful Dead weren’t part of our album libraries – Jane’s Addiction hadn’t even been formed. But as I ended the conversation with Alision, tears dropping down my cheek, I looked up and heard ‘Ripple’ playing on the stereo.

Keith is survived by Alison, their daughter Jenny and their son Marc. Love to them all. My heart is with them.

Ripple was originally written and recorded by the Dead in 1970. The particular version playing was the Jane’s Addiction cover on the album Deadicated. Something about this song comes together on this album – and the significance of it starting to play as I hung up on Alison – well it just has to be recorded for posterity.

Ripple

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine 
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung, 
Would you hear my voice come thru the music, 
Would you hold it near as it were your own? 

It’s a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken, 
Perhaps they’re better left unsung. 
I don’t know, don’t really care 
Let there be songs to fill the air. 

Ripple in still water, 
When there is no pebble tossed, 
Nor wind to blow. 

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty, 
If your cup is full may it be again, 
Let it be known there is a fountain, 
That was not made by the hands of men. 

There is a road, no simple highway, 
Between the dawn and the dark of night, 
And if you go no one may follow, 
That path is for your steps alone. 

Ripple in still water, 
When there is no pebble tossed, 
Nor wind to blow. 

You who choose to lead must follow 
But if you fall you fall alone, 
If you should stand then whos to guide you? 
If I knew the way I would take you home.