Almanac Music: Country Roads, Take Me Home — Again and Again
Sedans feel selfish in Bali. The local brothers picked Claire and me up at the Taksu Sanur Motel in their boxy people mover. Here, there are only two types of vehicles: scooters — cheap and nimble — and people movers that carry half a dozen or more.
Heading north up the east coast the brothers queued up some music on a phone. We immediately recognised the twangy guitars of a beloved American performer. The brothers sang along in broken but affectionate ways. You know the words. Join in!
Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Claire and I suppressed our giggles, barely. What better way to engage with Western culture and to learn English (should you wish) than courtesy of the clear-eyed melodies of John Denver’s ‘Country Roads, Take Me Home?’ I do think it’s a terrific song about the love for home with its introspective, soaring bridge that often makes me misty and want to jump in my car and hurtle up to Kapunda.
I hear her voice, in the morning hour she calls me
Radio reminds me of my home far away
Driving down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday
Lunchtime on Monday and the traffic’s dense but moving as we slowly weave our way to Sideman, east of Ubud. The song finishes and I wonder what will be up next. To our aural surprise we have: ‘Country Roads, Take Me Home’ by John Denver. Except it’s not JD on repeat but the tune’s been pinched by some gormless baritone, likely with a too large hat draped on his too large, empty (Texan) bonce.
It’s a wonderful song, of course, but nothing should be played twice in a row. The second listening is always diminished, an entirely foreseeable disappointment. Still, for us in the back seat, it’s an intercultural education. Finally, the Appalachian Mountains have come to south-east Bali.
Tragedy! One of the brothers — he has pretty good English due to his stint on a cruise ship — was poking about in the console and glovebox when he timidly announced, ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I left my phone at the hotel so we’ll have to go back.’
Rather than spend an unnecessary hour in the car, Claire and I are deposited at Sanur Harbour. Strolling around, we’re constantly asked if we’d like a taxi. It’s like being questioned in a bakery if you’d like sauce on your sausage roll. I want to scream, ‘Yes, I’m so unspeakably dim that I need a stranger to alert me to my condiment requirements. Of course! Sauce. Thank you kindly retail assistant.’
Sometime later the brothers return in the people mover, all phones now present. We’re hot so it’s a relief to be in the cool of the car. Again, we steer north. The brothers both fumble with their phones — driving’s no impediment to this — and for our shared, involuntary pleasure, they recommence the tunes.
We then hear that familiar guitar picking — in the key of A minor — and the warm vocals of one Henry John Deutschendorf Jr whom you may know better as John Denver.
Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Three times in under an hour — and we were still stranded in Sanur, vehicularly and musically. Claire and I squeeze each other’s hand in silent, intimate acknowledgement. We’ll hear it twice more before we leave — drifting from waterfalls and restaurants, the song now a comical motif, an improbable Asian companion.
Listening to the song in the future, I’ll remember those lovely brothers and that captive drive along the coast of a small Indonesian island.
Music really does surround our tiny, receptive world.
More from Mickey Randall can be read HERE
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About Mickey Randall
Now whip it into shape/ Shape it up, get straight/ Go forward, move ahead/ Try to detect it, it's not too late/ To whip it, whip it good
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It is amazing the songs you hear and where. In the early 70s while travelling through Europe made a stop at Zell-Am-Zee in Austria, beautiful town on a lake near ski fields, walked into a bar, and an oompah band was playing ‘Waltzing Matilda’. Amazing, only my friend Ross and myself were the only Aussies in the room. I think I may have tried to sing along!
Thanks Mickey a nice evocation of the enjoyment and frustrations of Sanur .
I’ve also noticed how often I hear old 70s songs in Bali and Thailand. It’s a little like hearing a lot of country music in Aboriginal communities.
Will be there in Bali in 5 days so will check out your
aforementioned places & music, Mickey.
Loaded up with books to read including your’s Barry,
‘Playing to Win’.
The title is so apt & translates.
I know I always played to win, not always gracefully
& devoid of talent.
Once I played for RMIT & we played Fitzroy All Stars
on Brunswick Oval . After the game I regret not
learning boxing or country music.
Up to then a few choice words would
usually deter the opposition but not that mob.
Anyway as John Denver. Is mentioned I’ll stick to the script.
I passed him once when he had an Aussie girlfriend. In their Celica..
I still hear his song Love with Placido Domingo & Luciano Pavarotti played in Australia .
Finally Barry, has Graham Cornes has approached you for an interview? He has always played to win & after (high) ratings.
Nice one, Mickey.
When in Bali recently, the house band at our hotel sent around sheets of paper seeking requests. I have no idea why, but I wrote down “Wish You Were Here”. When scanning through the pieces of paper, the band announced “Where is Smokie? Could he please come up and sing Wish you were here with us?”
The rest, of course, is history. Unfortunately my wife videoed the proceedings.
Bah humbug, they played the tune at quarter time at the 2023 grand final in a blatant attempt to kick start Brisbane’s Charlie Cameron. It worked, he kicked two goals soon after. In this years grand final, so I believe, they played the wretched song every time he scored a goal. Another innovation from the Cardinals which should have been strangled in the ideas meeting.
Anyway, we were having a lovely time in the swimming pool at Laguna, south of Manila, but the spectre of the 2025 grand final was always there in the background. At about 3.30pm I had the courage to ask my wife was it good news or bad news. Sadly the mighty Moggies bottled it and it was a long unhappy drive back to Manila with the knowledge that the essence of Fitzroy arrogance would lord it over the rest of us for yet another year…
As the immortal Mildew Wolf would say: “Positively sickening!”
Thanks everyone. I love these moments of cultural dissonance which are sometimes actually about harmony. I especially loved hearing Chiquitita by Abba in Istanbul and A Touch of Paradise (the Farnham version) in a York pub. Exploring the Embarcadero in San Francisco I saw a SA-FM Rocks Adelaide sticker on a wall, and it bemused me immensely.
John Denver in a Celica! Of course.