A Prayer to the Saint of Impossible Causes: On My Life and the Music of Joseph Arthur
“I need the saint of music, need the saint of love
Only they can save me reaching out for you”
-Joseph Arthur, “The Saint of Impossible Causes”
Lately I’ve been wondering if the titular saint of Joseph’s song makes impossible causes possible, or shows mercy by helping us accept what is impossible. I expect Joe meant the former, but for me, the latter seems more believable, though still out of reach. Always I seem to be in the moment of deciding to let go, never the moment after the letting go has happened. It’s a battle of brain vs. heart, and the brain doesn’t stand a chance.
Arthur’s songs often touch on themes that resonate with me powerfully—identity, difficult family history, the cost of being true to yourself. His music is wonderfully textured and often painful. It seems rooted in truth. How could it resonate with me otherwise? He is unquestionably my favorite songwriter of the past 15 years.
I went to see Joseph Arthur this past Wednesday at The Chapel in San Francisco. I was feeling odd about being there alone, though as I texted with my friend Gen in New York City, she told me that the majority of times she’s seen Joe play, she’s been alone, and that made me feel a bit better. (I actually met Gen through Joe, in a way. A few years back, I saw a tweet Joe had sent her, and on a whim, thinking anyone who loves Joe’s music might be someone I have at least a little something in common with, I clicked through to her profile. When I saw a tweet of hers that used the word “katamari,” that sealed the deal, and we’ve been friends since.)
Still feeling a bit unsure of what to do with myself, though, I paced around until a woman approached me. “Are you pacing?” she said. “Maybe we can pace together.”
Instead we stayed where we were, chatting politely and, when opening act Rene Lopez took the stage, dancing next to each other. (I’ve never been very good at standing still when hearing music I like that has any kind of a beat.) She was there alone too, having driven down from Sacramento just for the show, and I took some comfort in being alone together with her. I don’t know how people do that, how they just walk up to complete strangers and start talking. To me, it might as well be magic. But I was glad she did.
–
“I’ve been caught in between
all I wish for and all I need
…
If I find my own way
How much will I find? / Will I find you?”
-Joseph Arthur, “In the Sun”
It’s 2004. I’m on my bed, curled up, crying, her words still echoing in my ears. “If only I were a boy.” That’s what she said to me when she was breaking up with me. “If only I were a boy.”
But I didn’t want her to be a boy. I’ve loved women and I’ve loved men, but I’ve never wanted any of the women I’ve loved to be men or vice versa. What she really meant was, “If only you were a boy.” She already knew I was trans, knew I was a woman when she first took the reins of our friendship and steered it in a new direction. It was the first time I’d been loved by someone who knew the truth of me, and it was incredible. And when it ended with those words, it was like no anguish I’d felt before.
Suddenly, being trans, which had cast a shadow on my entire emotional experience of life, seemed like an even greater curse. I felt as if I was caught in between my wish for love and my need to be myself, and at times I seriously asked myself if it would be better to not transition and to have a relationship founded on lies about who I am or to transition and be alone. To this day, the collision of gender dysphoria and romantic longing remains like a volatile chemical reaction inside me, the feelings swirling around each other and feeding off of each other.
–
“It’s OK to be young
Before long, you’ll be gone, you’ll be gone
It’s OK to be gone
Before long, you’ll be young, you’ll be young
…
She says you lack imagination.”
–Joseph Arthur, “It’s OK to be Young / Gone”
Joe’s latest album, The Ballad of Boogie Christ (which he performed in its entirety at Wednesday’s show), has its moments of darkness but is also more upbeat than much of his earlier work, which may be why it hasn’t quite gotten under my skin the way so much of his stuff does. I’m used to losing myself in the shadows of his songs, and on Boogie Christ, the light frequently pierces the darkness. But I think this is a good thing. That repeated phrase, “She says you lack imagination,” rattles around incessantly inside me these days, though whether it’s as a challenge to those who decide they can’t love me because I’m trans or as a challenge to myself for sometimes doubting that I can be loved, I can’t say.
–
“Someday we may see each other and then look the other way
But I’ll love you just the same
And if you hate your life, just remember that there used to be a time
When we could not feel a thing
In my heart is a hunger
That I will never give away”
–Joseph Arthur, “Speed of Light”
After the show, I thanked the woman from Sacramento for approaching me and keeping me company; it was a lot more fun dancing with her, I said, than it would have been dancing alone. I told her to drive safely home, and I left. Almost immediately, I wished that I’d given her my email address or something, so that she could decide to be friends with me, if she wanted to. Part of me sees a kind of poetic beauty in the idea of sharing an experience, like that concert, and then never seeing someone again, but really, I think that’s nonsense. I’m old enough, and certainly I know loneliness well enough, to know that you’ve got to take the shots at connection you get as they come.
In the wake of that 2004 breakup and another failed relationship, I’d emotionally shut down for quite a while. When things hurt (as they often do), I try to remember that there was a time when I could not feel a thing, and that feeling something is better than feeling nothing, that the hunger in the heart, the belief that a better life is possible, is vital.
It’s time to let go of the pain of those words said to me all those years ago.
I’m not afraid.
*
For more on the collision of music and my life, check out my post on Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories.
Notes
jervo liked this
fiddlecub-blog reblogged this from agameofme
agameofme posted this