Persephone - Allison Russell
In the Greek legend, the teenage Persephone was kidnapped, raped and taken to the underworld by Hades, Zeus' brother. Her mother, Zeus' sister, prevailed upon Zeus to order Hades to free her, which he did on condition that she had eaten nothing before she left Tartarus, land of the dead., Hades' kingdom. Just as she was leaving she was tricked into eating a pomegranate and, even though she ate only seven seeds before she realised the ruse, she was condemned to live forever with Hades. After further submissions from Demeter to Zeus on her behalf, a deal was struck whereby Persephone had to stay in Tartarus for only three months of the year, thereby creating Winter, with her return to the world becoming Spring. Summer and Autumn, making her the Goddess of Spring, vegetation and gardens.
Much has been said on this side of the Atlantic of Beyoncé 's recent foray into country music in her latest album "Cowboy Carter", so much so that one could be forgiven for thinking she was the first black female artist to record songs in the genre, or even the first African American to do so per se. In fact, she's the latest in an illustrious parade which includes Ray Charles and Charley Pride, and, on the female side, the terrific and underrated Linda Martell. Allison Russell has been writing country-tinged songs off and on for the last 20 years as a member of Po' Girl and in her solo work. The best of these is "Persephone".
The elements of the Greek myth are juggled and re-arranged into a truly modern and autobiographical context as Russell
recalls the occasions when she sought temporary respite from the abuse being inflicted on her at home by her stepfather by spending the night the her classmate, girlfriend and lover. There can't be many, if any, Country and Western songs which take on the issues of paedophilia and male violence against women while celebrating lesbian love so tenderly yet explicitly. It's such a great song, wonderful words, a knock-'em dead catchy tune and chorus, one has to wonder why it wasn't a hit. Could it be that the subject matter was considered too challenging to merit radio plays, too sexually explicit for the censor, or too close to the bone, perhaps, for your average Nashville redneck? Surely not. They wouldn't be able to resist swaying their hips and singing along. Give it a go, sing along, you won't regret it:
"Blood on my shirt, two ripped buttons,
might've killed me that time, oh, if I'd let him.
He's slow when he's drunk, and he lost his grip on me.
Now I'm runnin' down la Rue St. Paul,
trying to get out from the weight of it all,
can't flag a cop 'cause I know he won't stop,
I'll go see Persephone.
Tap, tap, tappin' on your window screen,
gotta let me in Persephone,
got nowhere to go, but I had to get away from him.
My petals are bruised, but I'm still a flower,
come runnin' to you in the violet hour,
put your skinny arms around me, let me taste your skin.
Mouth to mouth, mouth to flower,
salty sweet you give me power.
I feel you shake under my lips,
your fingers tender find my secrets.
Don't make a sound, don't cry out love -
your parents are sleeping just above -
I kiss you once, I kiss you twice,
fall asleep looking in each other's eyes.
Tap, tap, tapping on your window screen
gotta let me in Persephone,
got nowhere to go but I had to get away from him.
My petals are bruised, but I'm still a flower,
come runnin' to you in the violet hour,
put your skinny arms around me, let me taste your skin.
Light on your shoulder, light on your cheek,
light tellin' me it's time to leave.
The birds are callin' to the mornin'.
Your parents' feet above us stirrin'.
Kiss your belly before I go,
climb back outta your basement window,
back to the cold's bite, back to the hard life,
back to the harsh bright street.
Tap, tap, tapping on your window screen,
gotta let me in Persephone,
got nowhere to go, but I had to get away from him.
My petals are bruised, but I'm still a flower,
come runnin' to you in the violet hour,
put your skinny arms around me, let me taste your skin.
My petals are bruised, but I'm still a flower,
come runnin' to you in the violet hour,
put your skinny arms around me, let me taste your skin."
Sorry, I should said it would make you cry.
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