Lydia Likes It

If I Were a Carpenter

In high school, I got my first -- my only -- acoustic guitar. I taught myself to play, and honestly, I never got very good, but I had loads of fun imagining myself a wandering hippie minstrel. One of the first songs I learned, If I Were a Carpenter, was written by Tim Hardin, who performed it live at Woodstock in 1969. Bobby Darin recorded it first, in 1966, and though his version was a commercial success, I've always loved the simplicity of Tim Hardin's own very first recording of it. An Earworm Award winner, if ever there was one. Here are the lyrics, in case you'd like to sing along.

 

If I were a carpenter
And you were a lady,
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?

 

If a tinker were my trade
Would you still find me,
Carrying the pots I made,
Following behind me?

 

Save my love for sorrow,

Save my love for lonely.

I've given you my tomorrow,

Love me only.

 

If I worked my hands in wood,
Would you still love me?
Answer me babe, "Yes I would,
I'll put you above me."

 

If I were a miller
At a mill wheel grinding,
Would you miss your color box,
And your soft shoe shining?

 

Save my love through loneliness,
Save my love for sorrow,
I've given you my onliness,
Come give your tomorrow.

 

If I were a carpenter
And you were a lady,
Would you marry me anyway?
Would you have my baby?

Introducing the Earworm Awards

Some songs stick in my head for weeks at a time, and I've decided it's time to reward those songs with an award, in thanks for the hours of joy they've given me. David Clayton-Thomas wins this week's Earworm Award for And When I Die, a favorite from the 1960s recorded by Blood, Sweat & Tears and written by Laura Nyro. This link will take you to the original version; today's video is from the '80s, proving that the great songs really hold up over time. For reasons I can't explain, this one always makes me smile.

41 years on

Old friends Steve Winwood and Eric Clapton, singing Blind Faith's Can't Find My Way Home in 2010, 41 years after they first recorded it. A bit more mellow, perhaps, but as seductive an earworm as the original version. I love the little smiles they share. I'll get stuck on a different earworm any day now, but in the meantime, this one goes out to our friend Dave, up north. 

Can't Find My Way Home

What makes a good earworm? For me, an earworm will have memorable lyrics and a strong base holding them up. Vintage 1960s or 70s rock, folk and reggae top my list. Currently, the song in my head is Blind Faith's Can't Find My Way Home, from 1969. Blind Faith, a supergroup made up of Eric Clapton, Steve Winwood, Ginger Baker, and Ric Grech, released just this one album, which topped both the UK and US charts around the same time the group was breaking up. I've loved this song for more than 50 years, and I always will.

The Shape of You

From the first moment I heard Ed Sheeran's biggest-ever song, the syncopated wonder called The Shape of You, it became my biggest-ever earworm. Even more compelling than the song itself, the process and collaboration between three fine musicians so in tune with each other is a treat to watch. The New York Times filmed this musical conversation and diagrammed how the rhythm and lyrics of the song came together. Watching the official video, linked above, gives yet another perspective on this amazing song.