Paul Murphy - 'Candle' . Dedicated to Bernard Hill

I wrote this in a squat-come-hovel, back in 1982. One of the flats had a tiny black and white TV, which the possessor - I doubt if he was the owner - regretted, because we would all be knocking on his door, "Hi Ben, just passing, thought I'd say 'hello'...". I think he set some 'visiting hours' in the end, when we would all crowd in and watch whatever was on. He wanted some quiet time, or time with his girlfriend, which was seldom quiet. I used to go out with her myself a few years beforehand - hi, Tina - and I didn't blame him. He couldn't ban us entirely since we used to bring him food, or what passed as food - bottles of milk 'liberated' from doorsteps, end of shelf-life pies from the corner shop.
Once a week, or a fortnight, we'd get our Giros and some people would have bought real cigarettes, not roll-ups made from roll-up butts, and that was a definite key to Ben's door. Roll Up Butts - now there's a movie title.

I don't know how many TV channels there were in the UK then, 4 I guess. There still is only 4, only they're split over 140 now. These days there's a million channels but no programmes. I could reel off a list of classic UK programmes from the 70's without pausing to think - Sweeney, Fawlty, Play For Today, Callan, Public Eye, Rutland, Q8, Armchair Theatre, Eric & Ernie... these days you forget what you're watching as you watch it. Self-defence, probably. Anyway, one programme that was on back then was called 'Boys From The Black Stuff'. Quite why Ben watched it, I can't think. Didn't seem his cup of mushroom tea at all. It wouldn't have been Tina's choice - this was the early 80's, women choosing what to watch on the telly? Why, that way lies madness. I guess some things have changed for the better. But who knows what strikes a chord in anyone. You haven't lived their lives, or seen thru' their eyes. Maybe it was something as simple as nothing on the other channels.

I don't remember any of the other episodes in great detail, but there was this one that did. Must've been near the end of the series. I could IMDB it, but I'll stick with what my memory gives me. I remember us watching it, maybe just the 3 of us, maybe there were a few others. And I remember at the end, we were, unkown to each other, all holding our breaths. We sort of exhaled at the same time, looked at each other, no words. It was unremitting sorrow we had viewed, for 40, 50 minutes. I hadn't seen anything like it before, I don't think anyone had. Graphic violence of the soul. Man against the state machine. No happy ending.

All of us were suffering from the curse of Thatcherism at that time. Everything was cut, shut, or priced out of reach. Closing hospitals was considered, and called, 'cutting red tape'. Well, you close the hospital, you're pretty sure to cut the admin. To hell with the sick and lame, someone had to pay for the tax cuts for the rich. I was probably the oldest in the semi-squat (some of us paid rent, some didn't). 1982, I just turned 21. I'd already been in and out of the Army at that point, homeless before and after. So I had a bit of resilience behind me, and I'd seen things in real life that gave me nightmares if I didn't stay one step ahead of them. This was something else though. It was reality TV before the phrase was invented, that's how good Bernard Hill's acting was. It's speculation, but I don't expect too many people who saw that episode, that series, forgot it. Anyway, I left Ben's room, went to my own, and wrote this song. I'd only been playing the guitar a few weeks, I knew 3 chords, and used all of them. I remember going down to Steve Corr's flat and asking to borrow his guitar. "Well, I'm using it," he selfishly said. "I just wrote this," I said, "and I wanted to get some music to it while it's fresh." I showed him the words, written tiny on a half a piece of paper. Paper was like gold then, name me someone who is homeless and desititute who prioritises it. Even if you had some, you had to hide it. People would use it to make rollups when they had no cigarette papers, or do unspeakable things with it when there was no other kind of paper. That toilet was more clogged than Roscoe Arbuckle's arteries.

My recollection is, that Steve read the words, and gave me his guitar without saying anything. Again, my thoughts are that this was a Sunday night. I hope it was. Something for the churchgoers to get their eyes into. Either way, Thursday was 'Folk Night' at the local pub, the Victoria Inn. We'd troop on down there, buy a drink and share it between the 4 or 5 of us. 2 guitars between us, both Steve's, an acoustic and an electric. I played this that night for the first time, and it got a semi-reaction. I heard the background chatter fade as the song progressed. So for my second number, I sang it again. And it never left my live set from that night on.

Thank you, Mr Bernard Hill.

Light and peace,
Me
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'Candle' - words & music by Paul Murphy © 1982, 2024