The context: In the show (The Rocking Horse Winner), the kindly handyman, Basset, is cheering up the sick ten-year-old boy, Paul.
A little about the creation of the song: We needed a way to introduce the idea of horse-racing into the story. But it had to be innocent (even though an adult was getting a child excited about gambling). We wanted there to be an emotional component to the song (since it was a very emotion-based show), but we also wanted something fun and performance-y. After several tries, nothing was working. The emotional songs were too sleepy, and the patter/show-y songs were too frivolous. I came up with the idea of a sort of magic trick: a song that you hear once, and it's a ballad, then you speed it up, and it's a patter song. Writing lyrics and music that could serve both styles was really hard (for example, "Modern Major General" slowed down does not sound like a ballad, and "Memory" sung fast is not a patter song.) The key was having a list of specific images that sounded like poetry slow, and that sounded like tongue-twisters fast ("Like giddy young Catholics awaiting Communion, like mounted battalions preserving the Union".) Bonus: it's a really, really fun song to perform!
A little about the creation of the song: We needed a way to introduce the idea of horse-racing into the story. But it had to be innocent (even though an adult was getting a child excited about gambling). We wanted there to be an emotional component to the song (since it was a very emotion-based show), but we also wanted something fun and performance-y. After several tries, nothing was working. The emotional songs were too sleepy, and the patter/show-y songs were too frivolous. I came up with the idea of a sort of magic trick: a song that you hear once, and it's a ballad, then you speed it up, and it's a patter song. Writing lyrics and music that could serve both styles was really hard (for example, "Modern Major General" slowed down does not sound like a ballad, and "Memory" sung fast is not a patter song.) The key was having a list of specific images that sounded like poetry slow, and that sounded like tongue-twisters fast ("Like giddy young Catholics awaiting Communion, like mounted battalions preserving the Union".) Bonus: it's a really, really fun song to perform!
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The Racing Horse Winner (from the musical The Rocking Horse Winner)
Lyrics by David Rackoff, Music by Sahara Sunday Spain YOU’RE SICK AND YOU’RE SAD IN YOUR BED ON YOUR BACK, BUT LIFE IS A RACE, AND THE WORLD IS THE TRACK. THE TRACK IS THE THRILLING-EST PLACE THAT I KNOW, AND SOON AS YOU’RE BACK ON THE MEND, THEN WE’LL GO. (tenderly) YOU BET ON THE HORSE AND THE STRONG LITTLE ELF, BUT YOU REALLY ARE PLACING A BET ON YOURSELF. YOU PICK YOUR TWO FAV’RITES, THAT'S CALLED THE QUINELLA. YOU THROW DOWN TWO DOLLARS, YOU BRAVE LITTLE FELLA. YOU WAIT FOR THE PISTOL, AND YOU DRINK YOUR ICE TEA, AND DAYDREAM A BIT ABOUT HOW THINGS COULD BE. THE TRIGGER IS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO PULL IT. THE GATES OPEN UP WITH A BELL AND A BULLET. THE HORSES TAKE OFF LIKE A PASSIONATE PRAYER, LIKE A WISP FROM A CANDLE THAT GLIDES THROUGH THE AIR. LIKE GIDDY YOUNG CATH’LICS AWAITING COMMUNION. LIKE MOUNTED BATTALIONS PRESERVING THE UNION. YOU NOTICE YOUR FAV’RITE BEHIND IN THE YARD. HE IS MOVING SO SLOWLY, BUT TRYING SO HARD. HIS BREATHING IS WHEEZY, HIS SADDLE IS CLUNKY. HE’S MEEK AND HE’S SMALL, BUT HE’S KEEN AND HE’S SPUNKY. HE’S MAKING THE MOST OF THE HAND THAT HE’S DEALT, AND YOU THINK OF THE TIMES WHEN THAT’S JUST HOW YOU FELT. THE LEADER SLOWS DOWN, ‘CAUSE IT JUST STARTED RAINING. THEN YOUR HORSE ADVANCES; HE’S SPEEDING, HE’S GAINING. WITH FIRE IN HIS EYES, HE MOVES UP IN THE HERD. NOW HE’S SEVENTH, THEN SIXTH, AND THEN FIFTH, FOURTH, THEN THIRD. AS IF THERE'S A TRUMPET THAT SILENTLY BECKONED, HE GALLOPS, THOUGH SLOWER THAN YOU MIGHT HAVE RECKONED. THEN YOUR HORSE, WITH A FORCE, HUGS THE INSIDE COURSE. AND YOU STIFLE A GASP AND A GRIN. YOU’RE A LOCK, BUT TO BLOCK, THEN OTHER JOCK GIVES YOUR FILLY A KICK ON THE SHIN, THEN MOVES IN, BY A CHIN, FOR THE WIN. IT'S A SHAME THAT YOUR HORSE DIDN'T WIN IT. BUT DON'T LET THAT RUIN YOUR DAY. YOU FELT LIKE A CHAMP FOR A MINUTE, AND THERE’S NO ONE CAN TAKE THAT AWAY. Or, to put it another way... (patter!) YOU BET ON THE HORSE AND THE STRONG LITTLE ELF, BUT YOU REALLY ARE PLACING A BET ON YOURSELF. YOU PICK YOUR TWO FAV’RITES, THAT'S CALLED THE QUINELLA. YOU THROW DOWN TWO DOLLARS, YOU BRAVE LITTLE FELLA. YOU WAIT FOR THE PISTOL, AND YOU DRINK YOUR ICE TEA, AND DAYDREAM A BIT ABOUT HOW THINGS COULD BE. THE TRIGGER IS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO PULL IT. THE GATES OPEN UP WITH A BELL AND A BULLET. THE HORSES TAKE OFF LIKE A PASSIONATE PRAYER, LIKE A WISP FROM A CANDLE THAT GLIDES THROUGH THE AIR. LIKE GIDDY YOUNG CATH’LICS AWAITING COMMUNION. LIKE MOUNTED BATTALIONS PRESERVING THE UNION. YOU NOTICE YOUR FAV’RITE BEHIND IN THE YARD. HE IS MOVING SO SLOWLY, BUT TRYING SO HARD. HIS BREATHING IS WHEEZY, HIS SADDLE IS CLUNKY. HE’S MEEK AND HE’S SMALL, BUT HE’S KEEN AND HE’S SPUNKY. HE’S MAKING THE MOST OF THE HAND THAT HE’S DEALT, AND YOU THINK OF THE TIMES WHEN THAT’S JUST HOW YOU FELT. THE LEADER SLOWS DOWN, ‘CAUSE IT JUST STARTED RAINING. THEN YOUR HORSE ADVANCES; HE’S SPEEDING, HE’S GAINING. WITH FIRE IN HIS EYES, HE MOVES UP IN THE HERD. NOW HE’S SEVENTH, THEN SIXTH, AND THEN FIFTH, FOURTH, THEN THIRD. AS IF THERE'S A TRUMPET THAT SILENTLY BECKONED, HE GALLOPS, THOUGH SLOWER THAN YOU MIGHT HAVE RECKONED. THEN YOUR HORSE, WITH A FORCE, HUGS THE INSIDE COURSE. AND YOU STIFLE A GASP AND A GRIN. YOU’RE A LOCK, BUT TO BLOCK, THEN OTHER JOCK GIVES YOUR FILLY A KICK ON THE SHIN, THEN MOVES IN, BY A CHIN, FOR THE WIN. OH, BUT HOLD ON, THERE’S BEEN AN "INQUIRING". THE JUDGE NOW ANNOUNCES HIS CALL. YOU CAN’T QUITE BELIEVE WHAT’S TRANSPIRING: IT TURNS OUT THAT YOU WON AFTER ALL. SEE, IT’S NOT ABOUT WINNING OR MONEY. IT’S LIVING THE LIFE THAT YOU CHOOSE. SO THAT’S WHAT I’M TELLING YOU, SONNY: IF YOU BET ON YOURSELF, YOU WON’T LOSE. |
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