Suzanne Vega, My Ex

Fact

Suzanne Vega

It's not the fist, not the
Smack, not the
Black eye
It's the unexpected
Tenderness
That makes you cry.




I love her music and her writing, even if I somehow grew out of it. When her album "Beauty and Crime" came out we drove to Quebec to see her and were thoroughly underwhelmed by the material and the performance. I haven't seen her live or really listened to her music much since. (It's kind of like my very messy and painful breakup with Counting Crows, but that's neither here nor there.)


But I grew up listening to "Tom's Diner" on Ukrainian radio, then fell hard for "Knight Moves" and "Blood Makes Noise." I've covered "Caramel" and "Gypsy" in several bands. But my wife and I were really in the grip of her record "Songs in Red and Grey." 


We had just gotten married and it's a pretty weird record to listen to as newlyweds. It deals mostly with her divorce and the conflicted feelings surrounding it. The album seemed to be her most personal and most painful. (And that's saying something for a writer who thrives on personalities and pain.)


She has a song on there called "Soap and Water" that is haunting and serene, troubled and weightless. It's so weird that something so difficult to write can seem so effortless. 


I hate when people talking about a song divorce the lyrics from the melody, so I'd request you play the link below while you read the lyrics. Otherwise why even bother with songs?

Soap And Water - Suzanne Vega

Soap and Water

Suzanne Vega

Soap and water

take the day from my hand
scrub the salt from my stinging skin
slip me loose of this wedding band


Soap and water
hang my heart on the line
scour it down in a wind of sand
bleach it clean to a vinegar shine


Daddy's a dark riddle
Mama's a headful of bees
you are my little kite
carried away in the wayward breeze


Soap and water
wash the year from my life
straighten all that we trampled and tore
heal the cut we call husband and wife


Daddy's a dark riddle
Mama's a handful of thorns
you are my little kite
caught up again in the household storms


Daddy's a dark riddle
Mama's a headful of bees
you are my little kite
carried away in the wayward breeze