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Never Closer

by Raphael Doyle

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1.
I come from Ireland, Calm and lovely, Unsteady and unsettled. Paisleys boys had drawn the lines, Bernie Devlin was still in plaits. But accommodation was made. You walked unhindered, but wary. How did I end up in this golden age? Walking under the banner of entitlement? Money spilled out of the USA like opium And spread the dream that we could have it all, New and fresh and better and Ours. And riding on its box cars we pinned our colours To the album covers and poetry books of the new beat. And believed this wind would blow us all To the shores of plenty and pleasure. A new Eden. I threw my troubled knapsack through those rolling doors And never learned to walk or build, But ran and jumped and played in infantile certainty. Would that I could tell you that in the ports of my calling I grew and learned and honed a fruitful skill. But no. Like many of my ilk I learned to flash my badge, A phoney ID, a backstage pass to shows I had no hand in. A sneer or a smile, which ever would win regard, admittance, To take the seat of privilege, To sit by the head of the table While others bought and cooked and served. And as time went by, a new skill, Of excuses, justifications, pleas and promises Until the whole threadbare coat fell off in tatters And the world had moved on. I come from Ireland. My dear sister Pauline Walked the childhood paths To mass, to school, to birthday parties. Her presence as familiar as the hedgerows. She, dazzled by my new clothes, wanted more. To step into my rocket and burst upwards into the new day, A shower of coloured stars spraying back down on the upturned faces. But I would have none of it. She was not of the inner circle. When I surged off on my glory train to nowhere She started to hunt for a secret entrance. The sweet girl. The good girl. died with her head in the oven. The collapsing walls of a sham endeavour piling onto her bruised body. God will not let that pass. I will stand before that agony until I feel every inch of it's truth. I come from Ireland. The Bay of Biscay tests the careless venturer But then the seasons were kind. My friends and I sang under star-filled nights. The hard edges of Britain were stones under my jacket-pillow As I slept between bodies at the Bath festival. English gentility offered me respite from familial distress, But my engine was broken. The bodywork buffed up well, but I was going nowhere. England became my default setting and I became a pretence. We called him Uncle Ray. On the promenade in Whitehead Paddy Zeoli and I sang Dead End Street and Where Have All The Good Times Gone. Now the puppet master took us in on a sunny afternoon, Morphed into the demon headmaster And left us on the pavement In a broken Waterloo sunset. It is what it is. Nobody's fault but mine. I see him now Doing duets with some current star on the Royal variety, Palpably trying not to obtrude, On best behaviour, Like the elephant in the back seat. I wish him well. Paddy and I loved that stuff. My peers are checking their pension pots. This far I've come. The letters arrive from Zürich or Prudential To tell of prospective incomes. Mine are a bad joke from an old cracker. They say life is not a rehearsal. Carpe Diem. I never got past the script review. Nobody's fault but mine. I come from Ireland. Drinkers we were. Loud noise in smoky places. When Mammy died my cousins took me To Jimmy D's on the harbour. An upstairs room with dark brown music And their friends wanting to comfort this waif. A line of Guinness pints spread across the table and snaked out into the future. Music and a drink. Nobody's fault but mine. A fine girl. A good girl. A sweet girl. This story should have miscarried too But her tenacity held the day, And many days. Too many days Of draining strength and still she'd not let go. And in the glasshouse she moulded I was given prestige and devotion undeserved, comforts and companionship. Chance after chance. And children. Amazing, unexpected, World upon world. My best and truest friends. Two girls, two boys and their mother on a driverless coach. Nights of collision and grief that Even in this luxury of pen I cannot look at. The pain I caused. Nobody's fault but mine. But by her heart and toil the years have passed. The Elastoplast held. The children grew To beauty - no hesitation - to beauty. My cracked bowl filled with healing grace. No heavy hand, sorting and rejecting damaged goods, But a rescue. Seen and known. To stand on good ground. To see through clear eyes. To affirm in turn this wellspring. Nothing is lost. I come from the hour before dawn I will step out into an approaching night, gladly, And lift my face to the vast, luminous dark.
2.
If the winter has caught you on the low And the sun ain't the same one that you know And your mind is getting worried by the cold And your happiness seems fading and old Then we'll all get together again And sit in a circle in the wind and the rain With our friends all beside us to hold back the pain And we'll sing to the sun, and the sun.... will come again If the head you've held so high up to the stars Is hurt by growing thoughts of ageing hours And the song that we sang seems incomplete And the dance that swayed so free just hurts your feet Then we'll all get together again And sit in a circle in the wind and the rain With our friends all beside us to hold back the pain And we'll sing to the sun, and the sun.... will come again If you're losing track of all the hopes we had And your dreams are turning frightening and bad And you feel you've failed, your head is bowed in shame Well don't you know, we've all felt just the same So don't worry if you feel your heart is weak And the words of love are difficult to speak For the world is full of trials to overcome And the song will sound again - and even louder when we've done Then we'll all get together again And sit in a circle in the wind and the rain With our friends all beside us to hold back the pain And we'll sing to the sun, and the sun.... will come again
3.
Kiltermon 04:52
4.
5.
Kerry 03:33
6.
7.
Rose 05:03
8.
Feet On The Floor It was one of those days you can't judge anything I didn't know if it was Autumn or Spring Was it something beautiful born Or something beautiful dying I was walking down the road and my head was too light I didn't know what had happened last night But if I couldn't recall it I couldn't swear I was trying 'Cause I'm putting my feet back on the floor It never hit me this way before And though I felt my spirit soar I'm putting my feet back on the floor I'm setting my soul upon the ground And walking away without a sound Except for you closing the door Got my Feet On The Floor You don't mess around with the status quo You don't rock the boat that you're trying to row And when the water gets rough It's women and children first But if you slide from your seat in some kind of a daze You might be excused a little heartfelt praise For the ministering angel Who comes to quench your thirst Still I'm putting my feet back on the floor It never hit me this way before And though I felt my spirit soar I'm putting my feet back on the floor I'm setting my soul upon the ground And walking away without a sound Except for you closing the door Got my feet on the floor It took me days in my mind Wrangling and chiding And saying 'Boy don't be a fool' To remove from inside the idea that I Was in love with you In love with you It was one of those days you can't judge anything I didn't know if it was Autumn or Spring Was it something beautiful born Or something beautiful dying I was walking down the road and my head was too light I didn't know what had happened last night But if I couldn't recall it I couldn't swear I was trying Because I'm putting my feet back on the floor.... It never hit me this way before And though I felt my spirit soar I'm putting my feet back on the floor I'm setting my soul upon the ground And walking away without a sound Except for you closing the door Got my feet on the floor... Except for you closing the door Got my feet on the floor.
9.
10.
Bob Dylan's Dream While riding on a train goin' west I fell asleep for to take my rest I dreamed a dream that made me sad Concerning myself and the first few friends I had With half-damp eyes I stared to the room Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon Where we together weathered many a storm Laughing and singing Till the early hours of the morn By the old wooden stove our hats was hung Our words were spoke and our songs were sung And we longed for nothin' and were satisfied Joking and talking about the world outside With hungry hearts through the heat and cold We never much thought we would get very old We thought we would sit forever in fun But our chances really Were bout a million to one As easy as it was to tell black from white It was all that easy to tell wrong from right And our choices they were few So the thought never hit That the one road we travelled Would ever shatter or split Now many a year has passed and gone And many a gamble has been lost and won And many is the road taken by many a first friend And each one - I have never seen again I wish, I wish, I wish in vain That we could sit simply in that room again Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat I'd give it all gladly If our lives could be like that
11.
12.
Coda 00:49

about

"I will step out into an approaching night. Gladly. And lift my face to the vast luminous dark." (I Come From Ireland)

The album title Never Closer is taken from a poem by Seamus Heaney ["When all the others were away at Mass"]. It tells the story of what Raphael himself called 'a messy life'. Driven by the inventive guitar work of his song Louis Doyle and the celtic-flavoured playing and widescreen mixes of co-producer Gerry Diver, the songs range from the hypnotic lullaby lilt of "Kerry" to the stark, confessional spoken-word opener "I Come From Ireland".


RAPHAEL DOYLE BIOGRAPHY 1953-2018
In 1969 Raphael Doyle left County Antrim for England. The troubled 15 year old had clashed once too often with with the conservative, Catholic environment of his upbringing, and fetched up at the Finchden Manor community in Kent, run by visionary teacher & healer George Lyward.

The boy who showed him round on his first day there was called Tom Robinson. The pair quickly bonded over a mututal love of Bob Dylan, Nina Simone, Ray Charles and the blues of Buddy Guy and Robert Johnson. They formed a band and begand writing songs together. When bluesman and broadcaster Alexis Korner (himself a Finchden old boy) came down to visit, Raphael and Tom played him their songs. Alexis became a friend and unofficial mentor.

By 1973 Raphael and Tom had left Finchden, moved to London and teamed up with their mutual friend Hereward Kaye to form an acoustic trio called Café Society. They were discovered playing at The Troubadour folk club by Ray Davies of The Kinks who subsequently produced the band's self-titled debut album.

Support tours with The Kinks, Leo Sayer, Alan Hull and Barclay James Harvest followed and in 1976 Café Society expanded their lineup to build a following on London's burgeoning pub rock scene. A second album was already underway when Tom Robinson abruptly left the band after seeing The Sex Pistols at the 100 Club, and Café Society slowly ground to a halt.

Raphael formed a band of his own, but his confidence was shattered. Stage fright, dealing with the music industry and the stresses of bringing up a young family led to an increasing dependence on drink. His wandering years included touring Europe with Ignatz; recording gospel rock in the USA with Giant Killer and playing electric blues gig with guitarist Paul Davey, which won a strong following across South London.

Raphael's Pied Piper storytelling and songs in schools took kids and adults alike to other worlds - but through all the wild, tempestuous times, family life provided a constant emotional anchor. His youngest son Louis Doyle began making a name of his own on the London indie scene - first with The Cadets, then Slides and most recently as The Spare Room.

When Raphael was diagnosed with serious illness in early 2016 his son Louis and old friend Tom Robinson urged him to record a definitive solo album, and once Anglo-Irish musician/producer Gerry Diver [Youth, Van Morrison, Christy Moore, Shane McGowan] offered to come on board, the whole project clicked into place.

As the songs took shape at Gerry's South London studio, others stepped up to lend a hand. Recording engineer Daniel Moyler [Brody Dalle, FKA Twigs, Björk] oversaw the additional sessions with Louis at Miloco studios. Mastering legend Barry Grint [Prince, Madonna, David Bowie, Radiohead etc) sprinkled his sonic magic over the mixes. And on hearing those, Martin Goldschmidt - boss of leading indie label Cooking Vinyl - offered to release the album.

It was released on Cooking Vinyl in January 2017 and tracks were featured by Lauren Laverne and Cerys Matthews at BBC 6 Music, Steve Wright and Jeremy Vine at BBC Radio 2, Across The Line at BBC Radio Ulster, and by Bob Fischer at BBC Tees. Despite his declining health Raphael also played a short run of showcase gigs that month in Newcastle, London, Dublin and Belfast.

In January 2018 he celebrated his 65th birthday quietly at home in Saltburn-by-the-Sea with family and friends, and died peacefully in his sleep at Teesside Hospice on Friday, March 30th 2018, with his wife Rosamund at his side.

credits

released January 27, 2017

Never Closer by Raphael Doyle
℗ & © 2017 Raphael & Louis Doyle under exclusive licence to Cooking Vinyl Limited. COOKCD659
Focus date: 27 January 2017

Engineered by Gerry Diver and Daniel Moyler
Produced by Gerry Diver and Louis Doyle
Mastered by Barry Grint at Alchemy
Executive producer Tom Robinson

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Raphael Doyle Saltburn By The Sea, UK

RAPHAEL DOYLE 1963-2018
First discovered by Alexis Korner, Raphael Doyle formed the acoustic trio Café Society with Hereward Kaye & Tom Robinson in 1973. Ray Davies produced their debut album in 1975.

4 decades on Raphael recorded his definitive solo album Never Closer, helped by son Louis Doyle, producer Gerry Diver and old friend Tom Robinson. It was released on Cooking Vinyl in January 2017.
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