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In the song "Dilated to Meet You," Loudon Wainwright III sings along with then-wife Kate McGarrigle, "We really think you'll like it here...We hope that you like us." This song was about their future son (with whom Kate was pregnant at the time), Rufus Wainwright. A large portion of Loudon Wainwright III's back catalogue is about his kids. He ended up with four children altogether: Rufus and Martha Wainwright (both with McGarrigle), Lucy Wainwright Roche (with Suzzy Roche), and Alexandra "Lexie" McKim Kelly Wainwright. Wainwright himself wasn't just prolific in this area in his life; he was quite prolific musically as well, releasing over 20 albums in the last 40 years.
He sang about his new son when he was just 24 years old, on his second album, in a song called "Be Careful There's a Baby in the House," expressing his concerns about being a new father and about the fragility of Rufus. He followed this one up with a song about the joys of breast-feeding, from the child's perspective, in "Rufus is a Tit Man." When little Martha came along, he gave her a song called "Pretty Little Martha." It was quite common whenever a new Loudon Wainwright album came out for listeners to instantly notice the songs about his kids that made it on. Unfortunately, as the albums went along and as time drifted by, these songs about his kids seemed to fill up with regret and remorse about all the time he was missing with them. For instance, in his song called "Five Years Old," about Martha's fifth birthday, he expressly sings that he's sorry he can't be there with her, but "if you got some roses on your birthday, they're from me."
Judging from his lyrics, which were often quite candid, his separation and ensuing divorce from Kate McGarrigle was messy. One problem was the amount of time he spent on the road, as he discussed in an interview: "The marriages were broken when the kids were very little. I wasn't on the scene. I didn't grow up with my kids... I was absent. Missing in action. Out of action... I was on the road, touring, involved in my own life, which they were a part of, yes, but..." It seemed he accepted the challenges of the touring musician, but didn't quite accept the responsibility that his kids brought.
In the song "Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder," he expresses his regret for the way things had gone with Kate. (I'm making the assumption that the song is about his disintegrating marriage because the song came out around the same time, although the backing vocals sound suspiciously like Kate...). He possesses such a poetic manner of loneliness and despair that it's difficult not to feel his pain when he sings
I always knew you were important to me But now I know you are a necessity, otherwise I'd start to go insane Things weren't easy when we were together We had plenty of days of lousy weather But now I'm in a hurricane
Kate McGarrigle, a touring musician as well, didn't appear to enjoy the freedom as much as he did. She stayed home and raised their kids, and moved them from New York to Montreal when they were fairly young. But she was also able to express herself through music with the song "Go, Leave," on her and her sister's first album in 1975, on which she heart-breakingly conveys the isolation and anguish she felt at being left alone with two young children:
Go, leave
Don't come back.
No more am I for the taking,
but I can't say my heart's not breaking.
It's breaking in two.
Loudon also addresses his divorce through a song, directed to his children, called "Your Mother and I." His lyrics and melodies are always so beautiful you want to forgive him for all his shortcomings, even when he's brutally honest about them. He doesn't accept any blame in this particular song, although he assures his kids that they had nothing to do with the divorce. He does love them after all!
Your Mother and I will do all we can do,
to work this thing out and to take care of you.
Families get broken, I know it's a shame.
It's nobody's fault though, you're not to blame.
There's also a mystery of a song called "A Year," in which he sings of a child, an infant actually, in which he sings so tenderly of why he stays away. The lyrics to this song are so touching I think they bear repeating in full:
The only time I've seen you was about a year ago
I was afraid to hold you but I wanted you to know
I touched your tiny perfect hand
Before I went uptown
I didn't pick you up because I'd have to put you down
For reasons that don't make much sense and you won't understand
I've stayed away for your first year, it's sort of what I'd planned
But I've been in your neighbourhood
Sometimes just blocks away
I didn't come to visit you because I couldn't stay
There was a baby on a plane
Maybe she was two
And she was smiling at me
I was not sure what to do
I've kept my distance from you
A year's much more than a while
And so I looked away from her, too ashamed to smile
When I saw you last year I knew that there was no mistake
Amazing things can happen, why, look at what life can make
But life can get so hard sometimes
Some feelings can't be tamed
And people get so angry, frightened and ashamed
You've been a sort of secret, for a year I've told but few
Although I'm sure that where you are, so many must love you
And I've passed by your window
But haven't dared look in
Although I know I'd love you too, I'm too scared to begin.
I think this song may be about his daughter Lexie, of whom I couldn't find much information. This song was on an album from 1995, so it was later in his career and after his kids with Kate McGarrigle had all grown up.
There were a few songs in the intervening years that are about his daughter Lucy Roche, songs like "Me and all the Other Mothers" and "Screaming Issue." The former recounts his experiences at the playground watching his child, and the latter is about the birth of Lucy, and how she basically hasn't stopped crying since. She also shares a birthday with her grandfather and with Ludwig Van Beethoven, a fascinating fact that comes out in this song. "Screaming Issue" is also reminiscent of a lullaby he wrote on an earlier album, entitled simply "Lullaby," in which he sings to Rufus:
Shut up and say goodnight 
Say your prayers and turn off the light
I'm sick and tired of all your sob-stories.
It's a very funny yet honest and touching song about a situation that I can only assume most parents have been through with a child. Later on in his career, Loudon tries to connect to Rufus with a song called "A Father and a Son," although I'm not sure if it's an actual attempt at connecting or of just passing the blame. With lyrics like "When I was your age, I was just like you/And look at me now; I'm sure you do./But your grandfather was just as bad/And you should have heard him trash his Dad," it's difficult to tell whether the song is an apology for past transgressions and for missing his son's life ("I think I know what you're going through/ Everything changes but nothing is new"), or whether he's trying to convince himself and Rufus that this is something that just runs in the family ("It never really ends though each race is run, this thing between a father and a son"). Maybe it's a little bit of both.
Martha Wainwright now has a music career (a pretty damn good one too, if you ask me) and is continuing in both her parents' footsteps in airing her grievances with her family for the whole world to hear. Loudon has a tendency to shorten titles of songs to just their acronyms, especially if the title is either possibly too offensive or if the title is the punch line. (Hence, "I Wish I Was a Lesbian" becomes "IWIWAL," and "I Don't Think Your Wife Likes Me" becomes "IDTYWLM.") In true Wainwright fashion then, Martha wrote a song called "BMFA" and included it on her debut, self-titled album. I won't ruin the surprise of what the letters stand for, but I think you can probably figure out what the MF represents and to whom they refer.*
Martha's "BMFA" recording was in 2005, but back in 1995 it seemed she was able to bury the hatchet with her father long enough to record a duet with him on a song aptly titled "Father/Daughter Dialogue," in which she first took shots at him and then he replied in his defense. She questions him flat out, "Dearest Daddy with your songs, do you hope to right your wrongs?" and Loudon, equally forthrightly, declares that he expiates his guilt with songs. This is perhaps the first time, in song form, that Loudon Wainwright III admits guilt (aside from the song "Mr. Guilty," which is more of a jokey apology to a lover he had wronged). In the song "A Year," he beautifully admits shame and fear, but there's still no apparent guilt. In "Father/Daughter Dialogue," he sings
Darling daughter, can't you see
The guy singing the songs ain't me
He's someone people wish I was
What I can't do, this dude does.
So, although Wainwright has chronicled his fatherhood throughout his career, I don't think he's imparted any real fatherly wisdom to either his children or to us, the listeners. He's expressed despair, loneliness, guilt and shame beautifully, but I don't feel like I've learned much from these lyrics -- other than how to craft an exquisitely moving song, that is.
* I've compiled a song list of most of the songs I've mentioned above here: http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/playlist/Loudon+Wainwright+III/34121941. Here you'll find a playlist of a number of Loudon's songs, plus Kate's "Go, Leave," and Martha's "BMFA" (in which the secret will be revealed). Enjoy!
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