If it’s pure, I’ll feel it from here
A love letter to the lyrics of Let’s Make This Precious by Dexys Midnight Runners
precious
presh-uhs
adjective
- of high price or great value
- highly esteemed for some non-material or moral quality
- dear; beloved
- affectedly or excessively delicate
Let’s make this precious
Precious. So many meanings. All of them so very Dexys.
But first — precious. What a word. Precious. When was the last time you said it out loud?
I recommend it. It’s so very satisfying. Try it now. Go on, really. And do it properly — none of that Golem bollocks. Don’t try to be ironic or make a joke of it. It won’t work if you hide behind an impression. Say it like you mean it. Whisper if you must. Just say it. The way the pr gives way to the shhhhh and finally the release of that ssssss. Feel the whole drama of the word. Feel it roll off your lips and soften against your teeth and feel the subtle way your jaw moves to let the final sssssound escape. It sounds rich. It sounds like freedom.
Precious is a very Dexys word because they sound like freedom too, or at least a profound yearning for it, even if they knew freedom took a lot of work which made them rigidly disciplined in their pursuit. Precious. The prize was a treasure so great it could hardly be defined. Precious. In the fight to secure it, there was no room to be careless. And so Dexys committed. They cared excessively. Their pose was real. So what if it meant looking affected — what choice did they have? If you believe in beauty why aim for anything less? If it’s precious, it’s worth it.
Dexys couldn’t have been ironic if they’d had a gun to their heads. More likely is the idea of Kevin Rowland holding a gun to the heads of everyone in the band to be even more earnest — play better, feel more, believe in this dammit. Because Kevin Rowland is not just the singer of Dexys. He is the truest of true believers. He knows what’s at stake. He holds the mantle and the power. He is James Brown. He is Michael Jordan. He knows the glory is far, far greater than the pain and knows that earning it takes sacrifice. (There’s another song on Too Rye Ay in which Kevin commits “to punish my body until I believe in my soul” before crying “yes!” approximately seventeen times in such perfect sync with the band that it could close a show at the Apollo). Irony just means you don’t really mean it. And if you mean it, everything should count.
Like the song says:
We’re striving, we’re striving
We’re striving, striving over here
Striving, he sings. Over and over and over again. Do the reps. No pay-off without the effort. There’s a vigour and a muscle to what Dexys do in this song. A reach. And there are other words like striving and precious, words that tell us what that reach signifies. Pure. Forsake. Cleanse. Salvation. Words of honour and intent. Words of sacrifice and effort. Words that place us in Kevin’s world and tell us what this means to him.
Pure,
This must be, it has to be.
Pure, let’s make this pure.
This is how it starts, the first pure stretching over a whole line, itself a reach towards some kind of higher plane. And really the song could just be that. Kevin holding a note as long as he can, finding a purity of expression as he holds himself in the puckered, borderless sound of that one word and invites the rest of us to reach for it too. But Kevin doesn’t leave it there. He can’t. Instead he makes a pledge. Signs the band up to it. Makes them commit like he has. Let’s make this pure, he urges.
No ever says what this is. No one ever defines it. But that doesn’t matter. Because we understand.
Still, there’s the doubt. Always with Kevin there’s the doubt. Without it, the belief would mean less. By overcoming it, the commitment is stronger. And so Kevin urges, corrals, demands, engages in a dialogue with himself.
(Do you mean it?)
Yes I do,
(Then let’s sing it)
Certainly, but —
First bare your hearts and cleanse your souls
(And then?)
Let’s try and, let’s try and, let’s try and
Let’s make this precious.Like this.
This Dexys album is full of call and response like this, moments where the leader and the led talk to each other. You feel Kevin needs it as much as them. Belief is not the same as certainty. Faith requires fortitude. Listen to Plan B. Listen to Come On Eileen. Kevin relies on the very people he’s trying to convince. It’s what makes Dexys so human, so passionate. It’s what makes him and them bounce back stronger every time. Like this.
(In Dexys, Kevin often signposts a moment in the music, like this, a moment which is transcendent, and timed to perfection in this case, Kevin leaning in and getting out just in time for the players to keen and swing towards the chorus).
By the next verse the congregation have become the choir. No longer doubting, they’re pushing Kevin on towards purity, towards where precious is. The goal is in sight. The effort required is clear. Now it’s time to be deserving of the reward.
(Ever nearer?)
I think so
(Visions clearer)
Of course, of course, but —
Still we must forsake all to win
(All temptation?)
Everything
(For salvation?)
Now you’re talking, then —
Let this apply to all we do
(And then?)
Our striving will guide us, and somehow I think that we’ll win.
Pause. Time to breathe. Time to recap. What is it about, this song?
Kevin wants this record to be precious. He believes it can and should be. Why? Perhaps he knows how much and how long Dexys fans will cherish it, perhaps it’s just pride. Perhaps that’s the same thing. Perhaps that’s what purity is, when the love poured into something for its own sake is received for what it is and the thing is loved more fully as a result. Perhaps this is what’s at stake for Dexys. Why they care to an almost spiritual extent. Why they put their faith in the idea of faith. To will something magical into being. To be worthy of the thing they wish to create.
Kevin and Dexys know this is possible. They have experienced it for themselves in the music they love and aspire to. They have received the love others have given and loved more fully as a result. It fired their faith in the first place. They are fans. Believers. They know what precious is and what it sounds like.
At this point in the song, Kevin pauses too. The music stops, just handclaps. He makes a plea. He asks for inspiration.
First let’s hear somebody sing me a record
That cries pure and true.
(Like this?)
No not those guitars,
they’re too noisy and crude.
The kind that convinces, refuses to leave,
There’s no need to turn it up.
If it’s pure I’ll feel it from here.
He wants to feed on what he loves. He wants purity, so that he may replicate it. He wants truth, so that he may share it. He wants conviction, so that he may channel it. He wants music that’s alive, a record that can be sung and that cries. He seeks the fire that burns so that he might pass on the flame.
I was about 20 when I first heard this. I felt the flame. The heat. It was late Britpop time, its lustre fading fast. Empty vessels making more and more noise. That line about crude guitars? I felt that too. Dexys were the total opposite. You can’t be an empty vessel if you don’t do half measures. Here instead was someone focused on the craft. On the effort. Someone whose ambition was for the work rather than themselves. A band who only cared about artistic success but still had #1 singles anyway. They achieved popularity and risked ridicule doing it because the pose and the passion mattered.
When I’ve been stuck, or felt low, or a total fucking failure, this fire has lit the way. I’ve felt its heat. Both keep me going. The fire helps me see what’s important and the heat makes it happen. The vision and the detail. That’s what Let’s Make This Precious is about. That’s what the this is. Art. Life. Belief. The fire is the fire of commitment. Make it count. No matter what anyone thinks.
Few I knew at the time felt this. This was Dexys, the ones with dungarees and banjos and Come On Eileen at weddings right? But like Eileen to Kevin, to some Dexys really did mean everything. They were something to believe in, just like Kevin wanted them to be. They were treasured. They were beloved. They were all kinds of precious.
That they were precious in those senses of the word was because they were precious in the other sense too. They cared, deeply, and affectedly. Everything they did was thought out. Even the dungarees. Especially the dungarees. It all works together. It’s all so intentional.
On the back of the Too Rye Ay sleeve, mosts songs are given a caption. It might be a quote, or a lyric, or something that adds texture. For Let’s Make This Precious, Kevin picked the best one:
All else forsaken, trust all to instinct.
That’s what makes it beautiful.
The process. The belief. The faith.
If it’s pure, I’ll feel it from here.
By the very end of the song, you’re convinced. Even Kevin is. All doubt is banished. Conviction has given way to calm. There is faith in the fade-out that this will work:
Let’s make this precious (I think we probably will)
It’s enough to make you believe you can do it yourself.
Pour your love and effort into what you can control.
Like this.
[If you’ve never heard the original, please do listen to Too Rye Ay. This live version starts with the end of another song, with what sounds like a Greek chorus giving voice to Kevin’s inner anxiety. The blistering version of Let’s Make This Precious bursts into life about 1.55. It’s astonishing.]
If you liked this love letter, maybe you’ll like this one too.
