In Christian culture Saint Anthony is the patron saint of lost items, but not here at Maki Towers. Like many in Spain we rely on Saint Cucuphas, a martyr from the late third century who is rather unceremoniously roped in to help us out. As we tie a knot in each corner of a handkerchief, we recite the following prayer:
“San Cucufato, San Cucufato,
con este pañuelo los huevos te ato
y hasta que (objeto perdido)
no aparezca no te los desato”.
“Saint Cucuphas, Saint Cucuphas,
with this hankie I tie up your balls
and until (missing object)
is found I won’t let you go.”
So I’ve had help this week, and I sent the poor fellow off in search of our A-list. I’ve had him running around doubled-up, reading and categorising your nominations for me, listening to the songs and essentially putting the missing playlist together while I sat around drinking beer and trying not to let the heatwave we are enjoying get to me too much.
The first thing Cucuphas told me is that there seem to be far more songs about losing than finding things. And that often there is no joy in the finding of people who have been lost. Tom Waits’ Georgia Lee is painfully clear on this. A powerful song.
Sometimes, Cucuphas says, the joy of finding something is less in the actual finding of it and more in the idea of how happy the rightful owner will be to be reunited with it. That seems to be Regina Spektor’s main motivation in returning the Wallet.
Fortunately some reunions are joyous affairs, a time for a feast and rejoicing as Steel Pulse tell us upon the Prodigal Son‘s return. St Cucuphas was quite overjoyed with the biblical tone and the moral fibre shown in the last two songs. He didn’t really know what to make of the next one, though. At first he was excited because he though it was all about St Julian of Antioch, who was martyred the same year as him. Then he listened to the words Mr Cope was singing. “We’re not having that,” he said. “Yes, we are,” I countered. It’s not every day you get to overrule a saint!
Richard Hawley was more to his liking and the gentle tone of I’m Looking for Someone to Find Me calmed him down a little after our earlier exchange.
Christine and the Queens’ Paradis Perdu added a further soothing note and Cucuphas concurred that losing paradise was unimaginably sad and well warranted oodles of Gallic languor and mooching. What he didn’t get so quickly was that if Pepé Kallé and Nyboma were singing about lost love, why does Amour Perdu sound so upbeat? I didn’t either, but we both loved it.
Maybe they’re out of their minds, he hinted, before coming along with an offering from the Cramps, who in Can’t Find My Mind most certainly are. He had little to say about White Lies except of course that he didn’t approve of telling them. To Lose My Life was my choice. It just had to be in here somewhere.
And we end with Ballboy and I Lost You, But I Found Country Music not only because we love the title but also for the lines:
And I miss you but luckily there’s music
Luckily there’s music, to get me through,
… a sentiment we reckon everyone on here can relate to.