Laurie Anderson The Soul is a Bird Lyrics:
In 1984, as part of the press for the tour I was
doing in Japan, I was asked to go to Bali and
speak about the future with the prince of Ouboud.
Now the idea was that I would represent the
Western world, the prince the Southern world, and
the Japanese press representative would represent
whatever was left. The conversations would be
published in a large book, scheduled for release
one year after the concert tour. Now as press this
didn't really seem like a great way to advertise
concerts but it sounded like fun anyway. And I
stayed at the palace in one of the former king's
harem houses. Each of the king's wives had had
her own house guarded by a pair of animals, a bear
and a fox for example. By the time I got there,
years later, the menagerie had dwindled a bit. My
house was guarded by two tropical fish. Bali was
extremely hot in the afternoons and the
conversations with the prince drifted along
randomly from topic to topic. The prince was a bon
vivant trained in Paris and he spoke excellent
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English and when he wasn't in the palace he was
out on the bumpy back roads racing cars. So we
talked about cars, a subject I know absolutely
nothing about, and I felt that as far as
representing the Western world was going, I was
failing pretty dismally. Then, on the second
night, the prince served an elaborate feast of
Balinese dishes. At the end of the meal, the
conversation slowed to a halt, and after a few
minutes of silence he asked: — Would you like to
see the cremation tapes of my father? The tapes
were several hours long and were a record of the
elaborate three-month ceremony shot by the BBC.
When the king died the whole country went to work,
building an enormous funeral pyre for him. After
months of preparation, during which time the
corpse continues to reside in the living room,
they hoisted the body to the top of this rickety,
extremely flammable structure, and lit a match.
The delicate tower crumbled almost immediately,
and the king's body fell to the ground with a
sickening thud. Suddenly, everyone began to cheer.
Later, I learned that the Balinese believe that
the soul is a bird and that when the body falls it
shakes the bird loose and gives it a hit start on
its way to heaven.
Lyrics: The Soul is a Bird, Laurie Anderson [end]