I had a scare this morning. Hank Williams—my very fluffy, very grumpy and very dumb rabbit that I love very much—refused to eat his breakfast. As we know from a previous postcard, this is not a good sign. So, I immediately went through the normal steps; try and give him a snack, then some infacol (baby degasser that apparently works well on rabbits) and then a little tummy massage (yes, it is as cute as it sounds). Thankfully, after an hour or so he started nibbling on some hay and then ate some of his pellets, after which I was finally able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. So when I sat down to put together your postcard for today, I had one question on my mind. Why do I love these silly animals quite so much?
In some part, I’m not really sure. I’ve dedicated my adult career to understanding and studying animals (admittedly, they’re animals that have been dead for millions of years, but they’re animals nonetheless), and I’m still no closer to the answer. I’ve been obsessed with wildlife since I was a kid; requesting that my parents tape BBC wildlife documentaries shown after my bedtime, and obsessively reading and re-reading all manner of Dorling Kindersley books. This love hasn’t left me, and whilst I have answers for why I’m interested in the work I do now, that doesn’t get me any closer to understanding the root of it all.
But one potential answer comes from an interview with Phosphorescent that I recently read, where he finally, after 11 years, revealed the inspiration for his best known track, ‘Song for Zula’. He’s historically been tight-lipped on the meaning behind the song, but has now divulged that the song is not about him, but is in fact about a baboon at New York City Zoo that had been abandoned by it’s mate. Talking about the impetus for writing the song, he said: “It's a song for Zula, and I wanted to give her some strength, because she was this majestic animal, trapped by circumstance”. To me, this gets pretty close to the heart of it; it is impossible not to feel a certain degree of responsibility and care for animals, be they wild or domestic, when we impact their worlds so much. And I think that that impact therefore ends up going both ways.
The postcard I’ve put together for you today examines songs which tell stories about animals, and how they interact with, and influence, people’s lives. I’m kicking off this postcard with an excellent track from Dry Cleaning’s sophomore album Stumpwork, discussing the loss of a family tortoise. Lead singer Florence Shaw was apparently inspired after seeing a poster asking for information about the titular animal during a walk during lockdown, and the lyrics she’s written here perfectly summise the contradictions of owning a pet. It’s poignant about how the inherent silliness of the name Gary Ashby for a pet tortoise can be immediately turned around into something heartbreaking, purely by mentioning that “we gave you our family name/in the lockdown you escaped”. This contrast is mirrored in the instrumentation which oscillates between spikiness and tender chimes, the latter almost sounding like something off a Smith’s record.
Whilst an animal might not be the main focus of Richard Dawson’s heartbreakly beautiful ‘Fresher’s Ball’, it’s impossible not to be impacted by the appearance of a hedgehog towards the end of the song. Coming from Dawson’s modern folk masterpiece 2020, this track tells the story of a father’s journey home after they have dropped their daughter off at university for the first time. Megan and I broke a little bit and cried genuine tears upon hearing this during Richard’s closing set at End of the Road festival in 2021, and for good reason. I don’t know another songwriter today who’s able to so thoroughly disarm you with their lyrics, speaking so plainly that it feels beyond a mere confession and more like you are the person that’s telling this story. I won’t spoil the full description of said hedgehog’s appearance in the song, but the wording to me is pure, simple poetry, showing how there are always moments of wonder amongst the relentless background of everyday life.
But, in my opinion, I’ve saved the best until last. I first heard ‘Your Dog’ by Advance Base (formerly known by the slightly more 2008 name of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone) closing out the excellent youtube short Relaxing Old Footage With Joe Pera back during the pandemic. It comes from the album Animal Companionship, a fantastic record written about the relationships between people and their pets, and one that I can thoroughly recommend you check out if you’re in need of more animal related content after this postcard. To me, this is as close as it gets to a perfect song. Owen holds this story so delicately, allowing it to unfurl in the most beautiful and melancholic fashion; there is a whole life of love, loss and regret told throughout its brief 3 minutes and 45 seconds. And the instrumentation! I must have listened to it a hundred times, and every time I’m still amazed that someone could write something that is so simple and so affecting. I just want to climb inside of that synth and nestle down in there with a cup of coffee and a hot water bottle. Plus, it’s impossible not to smile at the last lines of the song. Go on, I dare you.
All you animal lovers can find the Tidal link here. Give your pets a hug and a little kiss on the forehead for me.
Postcard 16: 06/05/2024.
Dry Cleaning - Gary Ashby
The Magnetic Fields - ‘68: A Cat Called Dionysus
Milkweed - My Father’s Sheep is Dead
Robert Wyatt - Pigs… (In There)
The Flaming Lips - The Big Ol’ Bug Is the New Baby Now
Grandaddy - Ducky, Boris and Dart
Richard Dawson - Fresher’s Ball
Belle and Sebastian - The Fox in the Snow
Phosphorescent - Song for Zula
Advance Base - Your Dog