(it's only blood) // songs for a glorious hero & a glorious tragedy [a freddie lyon ep]
Apparently I only use my LJ to post my mixes now. But nobody’s complaining I guess? This mix is one that actually grew from another mix I was contemplating doing. As Abi Morgan, writer and creator of The Hour once described Freddie Lyon: "Freddie’s both the kind of glorious hero and kind of glorious tragedy of the series, really," I decided to make a mix focusing on this idea. This is a mix for Freddie Lyon, one of the most beautifully written characters I’ve ever had the pleasure of loving. This is a mix based on the Series Two finale. This is a mix for the glorious hero and the glorious tragedy.
(it’s only blood)
songs concerning a glorious hero & a glorious tragedy
a freddie lyon ep
A B O U T.
Freddie Lyon is not a natural hero. He doesn’t wear a red cape and he doesn’t have super human physical strength. He’s never fought in a war, yet he traverses the battlefield every day, weapon poised to sting. His words. (Freddie Lyon is brilliant.) Armed with arrows of venom laced with truth they fly from his lips unbidden. This is his natural reaction to lies and deceit; it is protection against those stronger than he (and yet, is it inherently true that physical strength outweighs strength of the mind? "You fight every day Freddie. Weak’s not the word I’d use.") They bruise bones, and cut skin. He wounds with one word or an entire arsenal. ("Murderer.")
Freddie Lyon is a fighter. Yet, underneath he sees a coward. His words often mask it, his suit often shields him, but beneath the surface lies a flawed individual battling to prove he’s more because he’s always been made to believe he’s less. So he fights for himself. He fights for his place. (Freddie Lyon is acidic.) He fights to prove his worth. He fights for the ordinary because that is what is truly extraordinary. That is what means something. (Freddie Lyon is kind. Freddie Lyon is convicted.) That is what he is. That is where truth originates, and Freddie Lyon does not back away from the truth. He cherishes it. Stories, untainted by deceit: that is what the people deserve. They deserve to question. They deserve to know.
So he goes to battle. For the story. For himself. For the truth. He charges towards the bullet, believing he can take the fall (Freddie Lyon is reckless), believing things will be all right. He throws his barbs and they throw a punch. He aims for the heart, they aim for the body. He does it for the story. He does it for himself. He does it for truth. He does it for her. In tears, vulnerable, shirt blood-stained, head pounding - he continues to clash, he still finds the words. Broken body on the ground, consciousness eluding him, vision blurred and tongue jumbled, he still searches for the words - and he still finds them. ("Moneypenny.") Freddie Lyon is a hero. Freddie Lyon is a tragedy.
This mix is based around Freddie’s journey in the finale of Series Two. I hope that it not only emphasizes Freddie as the glorious hero, but also Freddie as the glorious tragedy (As Abi Morgan, the wonderful head-writer, so beautifully described him. I loved it a lot as you can probably tell.) The first track serves as a prelude, just as the last serves as a sort of postlude. The tracks in between are about Freddie’s fight, his charge toward that loaded gun and the fortune that befalls him for what he does. Thematically, I focused a lot on the themes of death and war and blood, so this has become, possibly, the most harrowing mix I’ve made as of yet. The moods range from dark (Into the Night, We Could Use Your Blood, Body Burned Away), to tragic (Arianna), to oddly heroic (Seven Nation Army, Black Dirt) and achingly sad (Gospel, A Dedication). The EP is tinged not only with Freddie’s fight, but maybe even more so, with his vulnerability. I didn’t want this to be a "hero’s mix", coming out with guns blazing and triumph heralded because Freddie is not a typical hero. He is so much richer and grander than that. Even when he did manage to get the story out there, even when he did "triumph", it’s still at a precious cost, and it’s still a much more multifaceted decision than for him to have just decided, "I’m going to sacrifice myself." The final song (and title track) is my ode to the open-ended culmination of the finale, and an ode to Freddie’s hope that everything will be just fine. ("You think you can miraculously dodge the bullet, well you can’t.") Depending on how you view it, it can be more ironic, or a sign of hope after the material preceding it. Just as we’re left to decide what happens to him in the show, the listener is left to decide here.
Notes: *There’s even little glimpses of Bel in this I think, because the only thing Freddie cares about as much as the story is her. How can there not be a little bit of her in this? On listening you’ll probably hear what I mean.
*I fought against Seven Nation Army so hard because I feel like everyone’s heard it. But then I slapped myself up the back of the head and reminded myself that it kind of speaks wonderfully of "fighting" Freddie, and it fit so well into my little narrative here, I had to leave it in.
*The National was made for Freddie Lyon. I've said this since Series One. Still true today.
I N T O . T H E . N I G H T .†. (C A S T A N E T S)
Let's go outside, dear; in the murderous night.
War is on.
Into the night of our captors to seek what war is after.
W E . C O U L D . U S E . Y O U R . B L O O D .†. (L O N E . W O L F)
My bee-stung lips they've sank a fair few ships,
while they continue to flap like hummingbird's wings deep into the night.
We could use your blood to heat this hotel.
We could use your blood to paint this house red.
S E V E N . N A T I O N . A R M Y .†. (T H E . W H I T E . S T R I P E S)
I'm gonna fight 'em off,
a seven nation army couldn't hold me back.
All the words are gonna bleed from me, and I will think no more;
and the stains coming from my blood, tell me "go back home".
B L A C K . D I R T .†. (S E A . W O L F)
I could feel my face grow pale,
sick with fear my senses fail;
and as the light fades from my eyes,
I smile but don't know why.
Here on the ground I lie.
I cannot hear a sound as I die.
It may be true that I lied,
broke a promise that I tried;
but my heart no longer beats.
B O D Y . B U R N E D . A W A Y .†. (S O N G S : . O H I A)
Death as it shook you,
you gave it a fool's look;
Said, "I am an empty page to you
Give me your hand,
give me your blood."
A R I A N N A . (L A S C I A T E M I . M O R I R E) .†. (P A U L . S C H W A R T Z)
In this cruel fate,
in this great suffering,
let me die.
(Rough English Translation)
A . D E D I C A T I O N .†. (W A S H E D . O U T)
I won't fall behind,
I won't forget all I've done.
Don't be scared it's over,
it's okay, it's over.
G O S P E L .†. (T H E . N A T I O N A L) .
Darling, can you tie my string?
Killers are calling on me.
My angel face is falling.
Feathers are falling on my feet.
A L L . I S . W E L L . (I T ‘ S . O N L Y . B L O O D) .†. (R A D I C A L . F A C E)
It's only blood; I have plenty left.
It's only blood; I just need to rest.
They cut me up, but I did them worse;
and I'll be fine, I just need to rest.
LISTEN ON 8TRACKS
+ Comments make me smile almost as much as Freddie Lyon’s sass; especially comments post-listening!
+ Please don’t forget to sign the petition to save this show, join the movement on Tumblr and Facebook, and get #savethehour trending on Twitter. Then, let me know you’ve supported our efforts so I can tell you how much I love you. It’s been a while since I’ve been so utterly attached to a show and to see it go before it’s time is heart-breaking. We can’t let it go without a fight.
+ Finally, grab a box of tissues, the nearest pair of headphones, and fall into the music spurred on by the soul-crushing inspiration that is ‘The Hour’.