For yesterday, I planned to share with you this song by Cornelis that I really like. Or actually, I planned to share with y’all the Swedish version of it mostly because that’s what I know better and actually understand the lyrics and also like slightly more (not that I have anything against the Dutch version, it’s really good too), and then perhaps share the Dutch one as well more for comparison or something, but, surprise, surprise… the Swedish version doesn’t seem to be available to stream anywhere! :O I was totally unaware of this before I started preparing for this post, as I usually don’t listen to Cornelis online, because I have his discography and a lot of live recordings and just all kinds of stuff I could get anywhere on an SD card, and I was a bit shocked, because it’s from a fairly popular album of his – “Poem, Ballader och Lite BLues” (Poems, Ballads and a bit of Blues) – which is one of my favourite albums of his, by the way. The album technically exists on Spotify, but only some tracks are actually playable so they’re either deleted or have location restrictions perhaps, and there’s nothing on YouTube. Even good ol’ Songwhip didn’t seem to find anything, all it found was either covers of this song, or wasn’t available despite SongWhip was showing a link to it. So quite interesting. And I guess it wouldn’t really be okay if I just shared a link to my own audio file with it even if I took it down after some time.
But yeah, we still have the Dutch version! I’ve shared very little of Cornelis music in his native language, and he’s apparently a lot less known in the Netherlands than he is in Sweden, so that’s a good opportunity to share something Dutch by him.
As I said I really like this song because it’s so freakishly relatable. I think anyone who has depression, especiallly of the very long-term, chronic, lingering or constantly recurring variety that sticks to your brain like thick, crusty mucus (ewww Bibiel!), whether it’s dysthymia like for me or major depression or bipolar or anything like that, will be able to relate to it, and I guess particularly so if anhedonia is in the picture for someone as well, since this hopeless blues basically steals from you anything that has any kind of meaning or that you like. Another way in which it’s relatable for me is also that hopeless blues’ parasitic relationship with Cornelis/the lyrical subject reminds me in a lot of ways of my sleep paralysis and sensory anxiety “friend” whom I call “Ian” on here, who is not a blues as such but also follows me everywhere and doesn’t let me forget about himself for too long and can spoil anything fun.
Before I realised that there’s no Swedish version available that I could share with you, I already did a translation of it into English, and I don’t like my brainergy to go to waste so even though I’m not sharing the song in Swedish with you, I’ll still share the translation of it. The Dutch version isn’t very different from what I know, just some details are different that don’t really change the whole point.
Hopeless blues
Has moved to where I live
He is lying under the bed, chewing on my shoesIt was late at night
I came from somewhere
It was late at night
I came from somewhere
And when I turned the light on
There was hopeless blues sitting in the corner
Hopeless blues
You are a parasite
Hopeless blues
You are a parasite
What are you doing here?
Why did you came here?Every morning when I wake up
Hopeless blues lies in my kitchen
Every morning when I wake up
Hopeless blues lies in my kitchen
He drinks up my coffee
Nicks my last cigHe borrows my clothes
And he borrows my guitar as well
He borrows my clothes
And he borrows my guitar as well
He scares away all the ladies
Who come here and visitMy home is a desert
My life a parody
My home is a desert
My life a parody
I have been saddled with hopeless blues
I will never be free
Please, Ms. Therapist
I can’t take it anymore
Please, Ms. Therapist
I can’t take it anymore
May I ask hopeless blues
To move in with you?
Edited to add:
Hiya, T’is Bibiel from the future chiming in. 🙂 In addition to the Swedish translation shared above, now I also have a translation of the Dutch version for you, which was kindly written for me by Hans Heemsbergen.
Hopeless blues, lives where I live these days
Hopeless blues, lives where I live these days
He’s in my smoking chair and he’s playing on my gramophone
I was out one night, it was getting late my luck was gone
I was out one night, it was getting late my luck was gone
And when I finally got home, hopeless blues was sitting in a corner
Hopeless blues, you’re a parasite
Hopeless blues, you’re a parasite
What are you doing here because I really don’t need you
Every morning when I wake up he is sitting next to my bed
Every morning when I wake up he is sitting next to my bed
He drinks my coffee and he steals my last cigarette
He’s in my winter coat, he’s even in my guitar
He’s in my winter coat, he’s even in my guitar
All the ladies who come here think it’s weird
Hopeless blues, even in my beer
Hopeless blues, even in my beer
He wishes me good night wishes me good luck
Miss Curator, I’m tired of my life
Miss Curator, I’m tired of my life
I’m sending hopeless blues to your private office
My Inner MishMash 