And you've been living on solid air
You've been walking the line
You've been living on solid air
Don't know what's going wrong inside
And I can tell you that it's hard to hide
When you're living on
Solid air
You've been painting it blue
And you've been looking through solid air
You've been seeing it through
And you've been looking through solid air
Don't know what's going wrong in your mind
And I can tell you don't like what you find
When you're moving through
Solid air
I know you, I love you
And I could be your friend
I could follow you anywhere
Even through solid air
You've been stoning it cold
You've been living on solid air
You've been finding that gold
You've been living on solid air
I don't know what's going on inside
I can tell you that it's hard to hide
When you're living on
Solid air, solid air
You've been getting too deep
You've been living on solid air
You've been missing your sleep
And you've been moving through solid air
I don't know what's going on in your mind
But I know you don't like what you find
When you're moving through
Solid air, solid air
I know you, I love you
I'll be your friend
I could follow you anywhere
Even through solid air
You've been walking your line
You've been walking on solid air
You've been taking your time
But you've been walking on solid air
Don't know what's going wrong inside
But I can tell you that it's hard to hide
When you're living on
Solid air, solid air
You've been painting it blue
You've been living on solid air
You've been seeing it through
And you've been living on solid air
I don't know what's going on in your mind
But I can tell you don't like what you find
When your living on
Solid air, solid air
I know you, I love you
And I'll be your friend
I could follow you anywhere
Even through solid air
Ice blue solid air
Nice blue solid air
Iain David McGeachy (11 September 1948 – 29 January 2009), known professionally as John Martyn, was a British singer-songwriter and guitarist. Over a 40-year career, he released 23 studio albums, and received frequent critical acclaim. The Times described him as "an electrifying guitarist and singer whose music blurred the boundaries between folk, jazz, rock and blues".
Martyn began his career at age 17 as a key member of the Scottish folk music scene, drawing inspiration from American blues and English traditional music, and signed with Island Records. By the 1970s he had begun incorporating jazz and rock into his sound on albums such as Solid Air (1973) and One World (1977), as well as experimenting with guitar effects and tape delay machines such as Echoplex. Domestic and substance abuse problems marked his personal life throughout the 1970s and 1980s, though he continued to release albums while collaborating with figures such as Phil Collins and Maeve Aubele, Carolyn Woolham and Lee "Scratch" Perry. He remained active until his death in 2009.
Knowing it is a tribute to one of my favorite artists and applying the lyrics to, and putting the musical composition into that frame, this is an amazing piece altogether.
Thanks for introducing me to it, RP!
Maybe if you took the cloth out of your ears you'd hear better?
You carried that napkin around for 6 months instead of just Googling the name?
I guess John Martyn was a troubled soul in his latter years.
I saw him in Whelan’s Pub in Dublin circa 2000 – a small intimate venue, where me and my brother had our own table, and Guinness brought to us on demand – a very nice setting.
This is my recollection of the evening – a little bit distant – but I think accurate:
The band came out, without John, and started playing. After one song, still no sign of John, and the band played a second tune. Still no sign of John, but the room was full of JM fans so no complaints, just patience. One of the stage crew then placed a cheap plastic chair at the centre of the stage and soon after out came John Martyn, in a sharp black suit and black turtleneck seater … and blue slippers.
I think he was ‘helped’ to the chair.
There he sat in the chair, as the band started the third song/tune – obviously weighed down by what ever substance had been recently taken – his head down, his eyes closed, guitar in hand…
After a short time, he started playing the guitar, head still down, eyes still closed, no singing.
You could sense the audience willing and hoping and waiting.
Finally, about two thirds the way through the third song, his head lifted slowly, and his eyes glazed open.
The crowd roared in relief, and the rest of the evening began.
Sigh.
Listen to the whole album! Then find another John Martyn album and repeat!👍😎
Why is that important? It's music, and his voice is as much an instrument as his guitar or that sweet, sweet sax. Just relax, tune in, and catch his groove.
Totally agree.....was just having a conversation with a friend who was listening with me and I said..."I would never hear of half these artists if it wasn't for RP" this one is a solid 8 for me at least!
I guess John Martyn was a troubled soul in his latter years.
I saw him in Whelan’s Pub in Dublin circa 2000 – a small intimate venue, where me and my brother had our own table, and Guinness brought to us on demand – a very nice setting.
This is my recollection of the evening – a little bit distant – but I think accurate:
The band came out, without John, and started playing. After one song, still no sign of John, and the band played a second tune. Still no sign of John, but the room was full of JM fans so no complaints, just patience. One of the stage crew then placed a cheap plastic chair at the centre of the stage and soon after out came John Martyn, in a sharp black suit and black turtleneck seater … and blue slippers.
I think he was ‘helped’ to the chair.
There he sat in the chair, as the band started the third song/tune – obviously weighed down by what ever substance had been recently taken – his head down, his eyes closed, guitar in hand…
After a short time, he started playing the guitar, head still down, eyes still closed, no singing.
You could sense the audience willing and hoping and waiting.
Finally, about two thirds the way through the third song, his head lifted slowly, and his eyes glazed open.
The crowd roared in relief, and the rest of the evening began.
How incredibly sad.
Saw something online recently that struck me as funny - "For every cigarette you smoke, God takes away one hour of your life and gives it to Keith Richards"
Back in the early 80s with a bunch of workmates, we rented an apartment in a chilly but atmospheric country house in the North Downs in Kent just outside London. One of my mates (thanks Dave!) introduced us to this album, as we were sat around the stove late one evening with a whisky in hand. Forty odd years later I still put this LP on late in the evening, when enjoying a dram by firelight. Every track is a classic.
A lovely share. Thank you.
I was in a basement pub in Dublin and they played this album. I had never heard John Martyn prior to that, and I was transfixed. I asked the bartender who it was, wrote it down on a napkin, and put it in my wallet. About six months later in Toronto, I met a British guy, pulled that napkin out and asked him if he knew who John Martyn was. He did, and shared some of his CDs with me. Couldn't Love You More was our first dance song at our wedding a couple of years later, and now 22 years later, we still love him!
That's a great story! I worked with John Martyn in 2006 (in Ireland where he then resided until he passed away in early 2009). A ledged of a man to the very end.
His Anthology was my summer sound track when I lived in California in '94-'96 and introduced his music to so many folks back at that time. I love how his sound continues to influence new generations of listeners.
Couldn't Love You More - what a wonderfully appropriate song for a wedding :)