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“I felt the power of death over life…”

If we assume that Sting’s revelations are honest, it seems certain that the song is more than just his version of an entertaining Western.  This song hits hard and was meant to do so.  How many of you who thought Cash wrote it found the lyrics absolutely brilliant?  Well, they are – and Sting deserves full credit.  But, if you sampled both artists’ performances above and you’re not a die-hard fan of Mr. Sumner, I think you’ll agree that the song’s horsepower comes from more than just the lyrics.  Cash does something with it that Sting doesn’t, in my humble amateur’s opinion, and it isn’t about switching from 9/8 to 4/4 time.

So, let’s add two questions to our mix and use them to build to our overarching question about authenticity.  Does it matter to you that Sting wrote a song about accidental gun violence when he refuses to own a gun?  If so, did you question the song’s validity when you thought Cash was the writer?

I’ll start with my own experience. This is on my short list of “songs I know when and where I first heard” no doubt because of the power of the lyrics and Cash’s performance.  I was riding shotgun with my old friend one summer evening as we wound our way back along Route 9 coming home from a day of tame mischief in Brattleboro.  My buddy played me Cash’s new The Man Comes Around for my musical edification.  This song, the fifth on that album, just flattened me.  I felt it approached perfection for what it was.  I still do.

Why perfection?  I own guns and enjoy target shooting.  It’s been a small but consistent part of my life since I was old enough to shoot.  I don’t hunt – let me get back to why in a moment – but I have no problem with hunting or with guns, though I expect responsibility from myself and others of course.  I imagine that the average person familiar with firearms would find this song particularly compelling.  You see, any responsible person who’s spent considerable time around guns has surely seen some fool do something truly reckless (nsfw) – and this song provides a fundamental example of something you *never* do with a gun casually, loaded or not.  That was clear to me from the moment I heard that line, “I drew a bead on him to practice my aim.”

From Sting.com – “This Cowboy Song” Really, Gordon?

Now, I imagine in today’s politically charged atmosphere that if some folks knew that Sting wrote it and never had heard Cash’s version, they’d reflexively call the opening scene unrealistic and political.  “Sting can’t know what he’s talking about.  He refuses to own guns!  All he thinks he knows comes from mass media.  Look at that picture of him playing cowboy!  Anyway, no responsible gun owner would practice their aim by pointing a loaded rifle at a person!”

True – at least that last point, for sure.  Every person trained in basic gun safety learns reflexively to treat every firearm as if it were loaded and to never point a gun at something you don’t intend to shoot.

The thing is of course, leaving aside outright criminals who mean to do harm, there are still plenty of irresponsible people out there.  Sometimes they ignore the speed limit and/or drink and drive; sometimes they ignore basic safety precepts when they use firearms.

Any observant person knows when dealing with any dangerous technology that the real possibility of a momentary lapse of concentration or a freak mechanical malfunction makes meticulous adherence to basic safety principles an absolute. (nsfw) Without attention to such protocols, moments of what otherwise would be surprise and embarrassment can easily become tragic.

And to get to the fine point of it as seen in the song, sometimes with guns (or cars or *whatever*) young people lack the experience and judgement that informs common sense, and so the worst that we can imagine comes to pass.

The fact is that Sting’s scene of a younger brother taking practice aim on a random rider with his older brother’s loaded rifle is entirely believable.  Can we just leave the politics aside and admit that these things happen? My local papers run such stories from time to time.  I’m sure yours do too if you live in America.  Use them as you will in a debate; I’m just not interested in all that here.  But honest, informed people must admit that such lapses in judgement with guns are real and common enough to allow Sting’s fiction to pass muster.

Sting says this song is about the “totemic image” of guns, but I don’t know that as listeners we need to get all ‘anthropological’ about it.  And, to be clear, from my perspective blaming guns for personal irresponsibility is entirely misguided.  I don’t think that’s what Sting ends up doing here, purposefully or otherwise; it’s just not that simple.  Consider – the protagonist accepts the blame personally!  One can easily read the song as reinforcing the ‘people kill people’ perspective, if it matters.  But all that is for you to decide for yourself.

However, we might agree that Sting is right about one thing.  There is, quite obviously, a fundamental allure to firearms.  We don’t need songs to tell us that.  It is easy for me, who vividly remembers being fourteen and owning my first shotgun, to relate to the character in his song.

Johnny Cash, ca. 1992 – low res crop from promotional photograph for publications and autographs, photographer unknown

I don’t hunt now because I killed ten birds with that break-action 12 gauge.  I did it over the course of several summer days, because I could.  I didn’t need meat and they weren’t stealing corn.  “I felt the power of death over life.”  The problem was, for me, acting on that feeling didn’t trump the suffering I experienced when looking at what I had wrought.  It’s entirely personal and I don’t mean to extend it past my own skin.  But after ten kills I decided it just wasn’t fun for me or the birds, so I stopped.  To this day I shoot that gun and several others that I own, and I enjoy it all thoroughly.  I love to see a milk jug full of water a hundred yards away burst wide open by a well-aimed rifle shot.  But even when target shooting I can’t shake that intense sense of responsibility in handling a firearm.  I don’t want to.  My mother, a tough West Virginia girl who learned to shoot when she was quite young, taught me about such responsibility.  But the experience that cemented it in my conscience was killing birds with a gun.

The horror Jeb’s brother articulates in this song is, as well, easy to imagine and utterly realistic.  A couple of years ago a hunter hereabouts in southern Vermont shot and killed his buddy by accident in the woods.  I don’t want to link to any of the many news reports about it out of respect for the families, but the story went international because his response was both devastating and wholly human.  He killed himself right then and there while he looked over the body of his friend.  There’s just no question that the emotion Sting captures in his lyrics is realistic.  “I wish I was dead.”

I Hung My Head – pt. 2 – by waiton at DeviantArt

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