Let Me Explain

Several years ago I was working with a pianist during a song gathering expedition.  I reached into my years' long collection and pulled out "Don't Explain" written and sung by Billie Holiday.  Don't Explain is a tortured tale of all consuming, all forgiving, unquestioning love.  My pianist refused to learn it.  "This is an awful song," he said, "I don't believe it."

I believe it. 

Don't Explain is a look inside the darkest longing.  That wake up in the middle of the night, cannot be alone, self-worthless part of our psyche.  Anything is better than that emptiness, including giving over to a completely worthless idea, no matter how painful. For some it is drugs or alcohol, for others it is human.

Yes, it is dark.  But hopefully light comes with the dawn rescuing us from that other place and we stand up again filled with life. Light has always rescued me from my own frailties and doubts.

My presentation of this song is different from Billie's, for I am different from her.  I know this darkness, she succumbed to it whereas I look for the light.  Poor, poor Billie.

Teymur Phell, who I am so proud to work with, heard a tango in the rhythm of this piece.  The tango, a controlled dance of passion, temper, and desire, suits me.