A Chat With Your Mother Words & Music by Lou & Peter Berryman
When David O. Selznick produced the movie version of Margaret Mitchell’s popular book, Gone With the Wind in 1939, he had Clark Gable recite Rhett Butler’s sensationally shocking line, “Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.” It had to be said, couldn’t be fudged or left out. It was crucial to the character and the moment in the story where he walked out for good.
Because it represented such an assault on the prudish sensibilities of the day, and violated the Motion Picture Production Code, Selznick had to pay a fine of $5,000 dollars — 1939 dollars at the height of the depression. I think it was still worth it. But some might say that in terms of enabling the free use of colorful language, it’s been a race to the bottom ever since.
But sometimes it’s what you don’t say that is more powerful. This song is a great example of leaving something unsaid, and instead, building on the dread of its being said with each verse rich with characters and imagery. The basic premise of the mother laying down the law with her teenage daughter (at least that’s how I hear it) is golden.
In a Psychology Today article entitled, "Permission to Curse?" Matt Albert advises parents:
“The issue of cursing comes down to the old, ‘do as I say, not as I do’ school of parenting (it’s a cousin of ‘because I said so’ parenting). Quick and easy in the moment but not a wonderful long-term strategy. So we’re left wondering how to address the issue of swearing and name-calling, whether it comes from a peer, parent, family member, or even a president. When kids enter adolescence, cursing can be a method of individuation — separating from parents and identifying with peers. Kids begin to use new words and can feel a sense of exhilaration by their ‘grown-up’ language. This is totally normal and not a reflection on character or upbringing.”
I still remember having my mouth washed out with soap when as a seven-year-old I discovered the power of a new word I was curious about. But having worked some construction jobs, I’ve seen the usefulness of bonding over the odd grunted expletive on occasion. Instead, this song leaves all of that to the imagination, and that works.
So many other things to point to, it’s such a great one to go to school on. From the shift of mode from minor in the verses to major in the choruses, to the increasingly absurd and wonderfully playful tour de force of the language of the verses. And what a force Lou and Peter are. But they can explain it all much better than I can.
According to their official bios, Louise is the one who: “plays accordion, does half the driving and fills the tank, handles booking and tour arrangements, scheduling, promotion, record distribution, and light lifting.” And she is generally the one who creates the musical setting for what are generally Peter’s words.
Peter is the one who: “sings and plays the 12-string guitar, does half the driving and checks the oil. He also does most of the art, graphics, darkroom work, record sales, schlepping, carpentry, rationalization and heavy lifting.” One reviewer explained that “Their friendship survived a brief marriage, and the musical duo as it exists today was formed in about 1975.”
About this song, Lou writes:
“One of the things I love most about writing melodies is trying to see how I can reinforce the meaning of a song. There are lots of ways to do this.
“A Chat With Your Mother has some of my favorite harmonic ideas. It's pretty common to use the relative minor of a key to express a change in mood, for the melody to match one in the lyrics. I think it's even more effective to change to the parallel minor: The verse of the song is in D minor and it changes from the verse, which is sarcastic metaphor (‘oh the pirates in their fetid galleons, daggers in their skivvies’) to the chorus's more direct voice of censure (‘it's from them I would expect to hear the F-word’).
“The melody line came first, with the descending 4 note motive repeated a whole note lower with each repeated example of wrongdoing (Key of Dm: F-D-E-F, E-C-D-E, D-Bb-C-D, etc.) repeated once, then again on the subdominant. The bass line's persistent descent, D, C, Bb, A with each descending note as the tonic of the chord built on it, underlines the dastardly qualities of those who use the F-word.
“The rising scale in the last line of the verse's melody (which is also the refrain — how we LOVE those refrains!) leads to the inevitable conclusion: YOU teeters on A, the dominant seven, where we feel a precarious resolution as the song modulates, fairly jarringly, to D major key in the chorus. The chorus is pedantic and chiding, reinforced by a comptively trite melody as it emphasizes the shallow opinion of this untrustworthy narrator.
“Argh! I hate expressing myself in words. It's so much easier to write the melody, and this tract took longer to write than the melody itself. Can I stop now?”
And Peter wrote:
“Far as I can remember (which usually isn't much past yesterday's lunch), ‘A Chat With Your Mother” was inspired at least partly by a post-gig yak session at the Ark in Ann Arbor. We were sitting around with Dave Siglin and others, among them the bookkeeper for the Ark, Kitty Wallace. Kitty shared a complaint about how prevalent the use of the f-word had become and how she was offended by it.
“We left thinking we should try writing a song about it. This was in 1984. So when we got home, I started working on one. I had a few considerations in mind.
“One, I wanted to make it gender-neutral, but be about a kid saying the word in front of his mother. So it's written so that a male can sing it, and it's interpreted as a father saying to his kid ‘don't you use that word around your mother,’ or the mother saying, essentially, ‘don't you use that word around me.’ We don't always know if Lou or I will end up singing a song we're working on, so I often try to make them as gender-neutral as possible. Also, of course, it opens the song up to twice as many people being able to sing it.
“Two, I always liked the idea of a song shifting point of view somewhere along the way. ‘Why Am I Painting The Living Room,’ for example, doesn't become obviously a first-person song until the last line of the first verse. Same with ‘Chat.’ A shift like this urges the listener to think back over the lines they just heard in a new light. I think this helps keep folks interested, when they're asked to do a bit of subconscious brainwork.
“Three, I thought this song was perfect for a ‘refrain,’ which I interpret to mean a line that repeats at the end of each verse. This song has a refrain and a chorus.
“Four, I like the idea of bringing the song around eventually to one that points a finger at the singer (‘unsavory musicians with their filthy pinko lyrics...’) The whole song is such a finger-pointing song that I felt like this bit of humility helps keep things fair.
“Five, it's difficult to title a song like this, because you don't want to give away the payoff in the title. Folks often refer to the song as ‘The F-Word Song,’ but we called it ‘A Chat With Your Mother’ to keep the payoff, uh, as a payoff.
“This is one of the many of our songs that I feel Lou hits RIGHT on the HEAD, matching the melody and chord-work perfectly with the tone of the lyrics.
“Peter Bellamy learned ‘A Chat with Your Mother’ from us when he was on tour in America. When he went home to Britain, he introduced it as a new song and it went on to become his albatross. The song was requested so often that he eventually refused to perform it.”
Here are Lou and Peter doing a live version of the song for Wisconsin Public Radio’s 30th anniversary of their folk music program, Simply Folk:
Lou and Peter live on Wisconsin Public Radio’s Simply Folk.
Video by Steve
And here is Peter Bellamy’s version, recorded live at the Bacca Pipes Folk Club in Keighley on 2 November 1984:
Peter Bellamy recorded live at the Bacca Pipes Folk Club in Keighle.
Video by Steve
Here’s a very fine version of the song from Sally Rogers and Howie Bursen from their CD When Howie Met Sally:
Sally Rogers and Howie Bursen from their CD When Howie Met Sally.
Video by Steve
And here’s our version of the song from our Berrymania CD available from Compass Rose Music:
Audio from Steve & Cindy's Berrymania CD. Video by Steve
Here are the lyrics and chords:
With in
On a
Signs of
And only
It's from
The
It's
I
But
That
And the lumberjacks from Kodiak
Vacationing in Anchorage
Enchanted with their pine tar soup (soap?)
And Caribou shampoo
With seven weeks of back pay
In their aromatic woolens
It's from them I would expect to hear
The F-word, not from you
There's the militant survivalists
With Gucci bandoleers
Taking tacky khaki walkie-talkies
To the rendezvous
Trading all the latest armor-
Piercing ammo information
It's from them I would expect to hear
The F-word, not from you
There are jocks who think that God himself
Is drooling in the bleachers
In a cold November downpour
With a bellyful of brew
Whose entire grasp of heaven
Has a lot to do with football
It's from them I would expect to hear
The F-word, not from you
There's unsavory musicians
With their filthy pinko lyrics
Who destroy the social fabric
And enjoy it when they do
With their groupies and addictions
And their poor heart-broken parents
It's from them I would expect to hear
The F-word, not from you.
We sit down to have a chat, etc.
© 1984, Lou and Peter Berryman