Fascist Architecture – Bruce Cockburn

Writing briefly about John Prine yesterday made me think of other singer-songwriters I have enjoyed. Canadian artist Bruce Cockburn immediately came to mind. There are many songs by Cockburn I could choose to highlight but I picked this one – Fascist Architecture from the Humans album.

I have always felt calmed by this verse:

Bloody nose and burning eyes
Raised in laughter to the skies
I’ve been in trouble but I’m okay
Been through the wringer but I’m okay
Walls are falling and I’m okay
Under the mercy and I’m okay

I have a diverse group of readers. Any Cockburn fans out there? If so, post favored songs in the comments.

Image: Bruce Cockburn performing at the City Stages festival in Birmingham, Alabama, United States. Janet Spinas Dancer – Author.

16 thoughts on “Fascist Architecture – Bruce Cockburn”

  1. GOSPEL OF BONDAGE — (1988)

    Tabloids, bellowing raw delight
    Hail, the return of the Teutonic Knights
    INBRED FOR PURITY AND SPOILING FOR A FIGHT
    ANOTHER LITTLE PUPPET OF THE NEW RIGHT

    SEE THROUGH DOLLARS AND MYSTERY PLAGUES
    Varied detritus of the Aquarian Age
    SHUTTERS ON THE STOREFRONTS
    AND SHUTTERS IN THE MIND
    WE KILL OURSELVES TO KEEP OURSELVES SAFE FROM CRIME
    THAT’S THE GOSPEL OF BONDAGE

    WE’RE SO AFRAID OF DISORDER WE MAKE IT INTO A GOD.

    WE CAN ONLY PLACATE WITH STATE SECURITY LAWS
    WHOSE CHURCH CONSISTS OF SECRET COURTS AND WIRETAPS AND SHOCKS
    WHOSE PRIESTS HOLD SMOKING GUNS, AND WHOSE SIGN IS THE DOUBLE CROSS
    BUT GOD MUST BE ON THE SIDE THAT’S RIGHT
    AND NOT THE RIGHT THAT JUSTIFIES ITSELF IN TERMS OF MIGHT–
    LEAST OF ALL A BUNCH OF NEO-NAZIS RUNNING HOODED THROUGH THE NIGHT
    WHICH MAY BE WHY HE IS SO CONSIPICUOUSLY OUT OF SIGHT

    YOU READ YOUR BIBLE IN YOUR SPECIAL WAYS
    YOU’RE FOND OF QUOTING CERTAIN THINGS IT SAYS–
    MOUTH FULL OF RIGHTEOUSNESS AND WRATH FROM ABOVE
    BUT WHEN DO WE HEAR ABOUT FORGIVENESS AND LOVE

    SOMETIMES YOU CAN HEAR THE SPIRIT WHISPERING TO YOU
    BUT IF GOD STAYS SILENT, WHAT ELSE CAN YOU DO
    EXCEPT LISTEN TO THE SILENCE?
    IF YOU EVER DID YOU’D SURELY SEE
    THAT GOD WON’T BE REDUCED TO AN IDEOLOGY
    SUCH AS THE GOSPEL OF BONDAGE

    i first heard this song while a grad student in Counseling at Regent Univ. in Va. Beach.–Formely CBN Univ., while driving. I began crying uncontrollably for the body of Christ and had to pull over to the side of the road. I knew he was talking about Pat Robertson and the religious right. Pat was chancellor of my school. But even then i knew the religious right was born in spiritual adultery. My spiritual mentor, Wayne Monbleau, wrote a tract in 1981 entitled “The Christian Right Ain’t.” In my two years at CBN i passed out many of these to my friends. But Bruce sang about things decades ago which are even more relevant for today’s time of chaos, confusion, distraction, lies and people who confess Jesus actively walking in rebellion toward God according to direct teaching of James 4:4.

  2. The Trouble With Normal– is it only get worse (1983)

    Strikes across the frontier and strikes for higher wage
    Planet lurches to the right as ideologies engage
    Suddenly it’s repression, moratorium on rights
    What did they think the POLITICS OF PANIC would invite?
    Person in the street shrugs “SECURITY COMES FIRST”

    But the trouble with normal is it only gets worse

    CALLOUS MAN IN BUSINESS COSTUME speaks computerese
    Play pinball with the Third world trying to keep it on it’s knees
    Their single crop starvation plan puts sugar in your tea
    And the local Third world kept on reservations you don’t see
    “IT WILL ALL GO BACK TO NORMAL IF WE PUT OUR NATION FIRST”
    BUT THE TROUBLE WITH NORMAL IS IT ONLY GETS WORSE
    The trouble with normal is it only gets worse

    FASHIONABLE FASCISM DOMINATES THE SCENE
    WHEN THE ENDS DON’T MEET IT’S EASIER TO JUSTIFY THE MEANS
    TENANTS GET THE DREGS AND THE LANDLORDS GET THE CREAM
    IN THIS GRINDING DEVOLUTION OF THE DEMORCRATIC DREAM
    BRINGS US MEN IN GAS MASKS DANCING WHILE THE SHELLS BURSTS
    THE TROUBLE WITH NORMAL IS IT ONLY GETS WORSE.
    The trouble with normal is it only gets worse
    The trouble with normal is it only gets worse.

    The last time i saw Bruce was 11/19 in Brooklyn NY when an audience member requested this song. Bruce, as always, had some very insightful comments to share regarding this song and how it relates to today.

    The first time i saw Bruce was in 1978 at Club Passim. (Formerly Club 47,the home of the folk music scene in New England in 1960’s.) He performed many beautiful love songs to God and the beauty of nature in a folk/jazz style alone with only an acoustic guitar)

    The next time i saw Bruce was in 1980, the night after he performed on Saturday Night Live, at the Paradise Club in Boston with Dr. Richard Lovelace. He had a 5 piece electric band which was totally in sync and rocked the house with just about everyone dancing. Even me..

    Bruce is such a special artist. A better poet than even Bob Dylan whom i also love. An AMAZING Guitarist who can make the guitar sound like a 3 piece band, And a social Prophet

    God bless Bruce Cockburn!!

  3. Night Train (first song on The Charity of Night album)

    Not a knife throw from here, you can hear the night train passing
    That’s the sound somebody makes when they’re getting away
    Leaving next week’s hanging jury far behind them
    A prisoner only of the choices they’ve made

    Night train
    Night train

    Ice cube in a dark drink shines like starlight
    The moon is floating somewhere out at sea
    On an island in the blur of noise and color
    Alcatraz, St. Helena, Patmos and the Chateau D’If

    Night train
    Night train

    And everyone’s an island edged with sand
    A temporary refuge where somebody else can stand
    ‘Til the sea that binds us like the forced tide of a blood oath
    Will wear it down, dissolve it, recombine it

    Anyone can die here, they do it every day
    It doesn’t take much effort
    Though it goes against the grain
    And the ultimate forgetfulness of violence
    Sweeps the landscape like the headlight of a train

    Night train
    Night train

    Ice cube in a dark drink shines like starlight
    Starlight shines like glass shards in dark hair
    And the mind’s eye tumbles out along the steel track
    Fixing every shadow with its stare

    Night train
    Night train

    And in the absence of a vision there are nightmares
    And in the absence of compassion there is cancer
    Whose banner waves over palaces and mean streets
    And the rhythm of the night train is a mantra

  4. If I may add one more favorite Cockburn song (the live version is wonderful):

    “Strange Waters”

    I’ve seen a high cairn kissed by holy wind
    Seen a mirror pool cut by golden fins
    Seen alleys where they hide the truth of cities
    The mad whose blessing you must accept without pity

    I’ve stood in airports guarded glass and chrome
    Walked rifled roads and land mined loam
    Seen a forest in flames right down to the road
    Burned in love till I’ve seen my heart explode

    You’ve been leading me
    Beside strange waters

    Across the concrete fields of man
    Sun ray like a camera pans
    Some will run and some will stand
    Everything is bullshit but the open hand

    You’ve been leading me
    Beside strange waters
    Streams of beautiful lights in the night
    But where is my pastureland in these dark valleys?
    If I lose my grip, will I take flight?

    You’ve been leading me
    Beside strange waters
    Streams of beautiful lights in the night
    But where is my pastureland in these dark valleys?
    If I loose my grip, will I take flight?

    1. Love this song by Bruce Cockburn as i can relate to all the words in my travels in life emotionally and physically. He has been my favorite artist since 1979 and have seen him numerous times including a very very God ordained 1:1 15 min. talk with him after a concert in NJ. in mid 90’s at Club Bene. His autobiography is a great read. Last saw him in Brooklyn NY a few months ago. He had to put much effort into just walking on stage but sitting down with guitar in hand
      his gifting and special brilliance remains He is a true treasure to the body of Christ and the world. I consider him prophetically gifted.

  5. Understanding Nothing (from Big Circumstance CD)

    Weavers’ fingers flying on the loom
    Patterns shift too fast to be discerned
    All these years of thinking
    Ended up like this
    In front of all this beauty
    Understanding nothing

  6. There you go
    Swimming deeper into mystery
    Here I remain
    Only seeing where you used to be
    Stared at the ceiling
    ‘Til my ears filled up with tears
    Never got to know you
    And suddenly you’re out of here
    Gone from mystery into mystery
    Gone from daylight into light
    Another step deeper
    Into darkness
    Closer to the light
    Walked outside
    Summer moon was nearly down
    Mist on the fields
    Holy stillness all around
    Death’s no stranger
    No stranger…

    1. Bruce wrote this song in honor of Mark Heard, who wrote the most brilliant lyrics I have come across. Mark passed away much too early. If you[re not familiar with him, try listening to his last CD Satellite Sky. Here are some lyrics from Tip of My Tongue, the leadoff song on that CD:

      There’s an oasis in the heat of the day
      There’s a fire in the chill of night
      A turnabout in circumstance makes each a hell in its own right
      I’ve been boxed-in in the lowlands, in the canyons that think
      I’ve been pushed to the brink of the precipice and dared not to blink
      I’ve been confounded in the whirlwind of what-ifs and dreams
      I’ve been burned by the turning of the wind back upon my own flames

      I’ve seen through the walls of this kingdom of dust
      Felt the crucial revelation
      But the broad streets of the heart and the day-to-day meet
      At a blind intersection
      I don’t want to be lonely, I don’t want to feel pain
      I don’t want to draw straws with the sons of Cain
      You can take it as a prayer if you’ll remember my name
      You can take it as the penance of a profane saint

      Chorus:
      Knock the scales from my eyes
      Knock the words from my lungs
      I want to cry out
      It’s on the tip of my tongue

      There’s an oasis in the heat of the day
      There’s fire in the chill of night
      And when I know them both, I’ll know your love –
      I will feel it in the twilight
      As circumstance comes crashing through my walls like a train
      Or like a chorus from the mountains of the ocean floor
      Like the wind-burst of birdwings taking flight in a hard rain
      Or like a mad dog on the far side of Dante’s Door

      1. Yes. I “discovered” Mark Heard after his death; and the last 3 or 4 recordings are nothing short of fabulous. I’m not fond of the “wall of mandolin” sound (and I mandolin!); but the lyrics—oh, the lyrics. Makes me weep thinking about it.

      2. I discovered Mark while he was still alive after buying the “Victims of the Age” album in the early 80’s. Favorite from that album is “Dancing at the Policeman’s Ball.” It is about the tendency of Christians who are supposed to be “salt and light” to get distracted by the pleasures of this life and lose their saltiness by simple neglect: “Nobody is out on the streets tonight…” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5_h4OUHymA

      3. Yes. I “discovered” Mark Heard after his death; and the last 3 or 4 recordings are nothing short of fabulous. I’m not fond of the “wall of mandolin” sound (and I mandolin!); but the lyrics—oh, the lyrics. Makes me weep thinking about it.

  7. Here comes the helicopter, second time today
    Everybody scatters and hopes it goes away
    How many kids they’ve murdered only God can say, hey
    If I had a rocket launcher, if I had a rocket launcher
    If I had a rocket launcher, I’d make somebody pay

    I don’t believe in guarded borders and I don’t believe in hate
    I don’t believe in generals or their stinking torture states
    And when I talk with the survivors of things too sickening to relate
    If I had a rocket launcher, if I had a rocket launcher
    If I had a rocket launcher, I would retaliate

    On the Rio Lacantun, one hundred thousand wait
    To fall down from starvation, or some less humane fate
    Cry for Guatemala, with a corpse in every gate
    If I had a rocket launcher, if I had a rocket launcher
    If I had a rocket launcher, I would not hesitate

    I want to raise every voice, at least I’ve got to try
    Every time I think about it water rises to my eyes
    Situation desperate, echoes of the victims cry
    If I had a rocket launcher, if I had a rocket launcher
    If I had a rocket launcher, some son of a bitch would die

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