Coastline Notes

Some years ago I set out to walk the Suffolk coast, from Lowestoft in the north to my home town Felixstowe. This coastline has a particular fascination for me: having grown up in a Suffolk coastal town these other places were the same but different.

This is not a travelogue. The songs are not portraits of the places or the people. They are inspired by elements of the coastline, an mixture of what I saw and felt together with an idea born of each location. Maybe it will become clearer as we go along.

1. Coastline

An overview. If you’ve been on the seashore on a windy day with your collar turned up and seen the power of the grey waves or walked on the beach with the moonlight reflected and broken by hints of restlessness you might get the idea.

2. They stand

This is partly an ill-informed view of the demise of the fishing industry that I associated with Lowestoft. But now I think it’s more to do with the power of the past. The grief, the joys of past generations are not lost, they resonate through the years. But what influence should they have over us now?

3. Land

The coastal path from Lowestoft to Southwold has been in parts washed away. This started me thinking about how we are forced to find new paths when the old are taken away. We still find ways to carry on and will not be beaten.

4. House of light

As you approach Southwold the lighthouse is a landmark that draws you on, comforted that you can’t get lost as long as it’s getting bigger. And so I thought about how previous generations have worked to give us light and how we should work to pass it on.

5. Lie deep

The story of Dunwich is well known, in Suffolk at least. The major mediaeval town reduced to a village by the encroaching sea, the churches and graveyards toppling into the waves, the legend of the sunken church bell still heard ringing. I’ve added the idea of the bell continuing to ring until the community under the waves is complete.

6. Sighs and fears

The sight of Sizewell power station on the skyline is always startling. Science fact among the bird reserves and pebble beaches. But no matter how much science you know there is always the primeval fear of the irrational gods. The devil spoke and said 'What if?'.

7. Turning

There is literally a point, just north of Thorpeness (the ness in 'Thorpeness'), where the coast turns. No longer can the northern landmarks of Southwold and Lowestoft be seen; they are replaced by the oddly shaped Aldeburgh towers to the south.

8. Anglian muse

The Snape Maltings is at the centre of the cultural legacy left by Benjamin Britten. The Anglian muse here is both him and any of us inspired by the remoteness, the size of sky, the Suffolk-ness of this marvellous land.

9. High and dry

Orford reminds me of war in two ways. The deserted pavilions on the ness speak of the testing of destructive weapons, how one man’s ingenuity is another’s deadliness. Secondly the isolation of this place brings to mind the isolation of those who have lost loved ones to war. The brave goodbye, the anxious letters and final crushing telegram.

10. Shingle Street

There is a Suffolk hamlet called Shingle Street and this song is no reflection on the good people there. In my imagination there is a desperate windblown isolation where you can only turn to those you love and they are are probably not enough. The tide moves the pebbles further towards you as the years drive you from yourself.

11. Our Radar

Bawdsey is just over the river from Felixstowe and the mansion there seems like another world. Mix in the development of radar at the old RAF station there and you have an essay on the nature of communication.

12. Home

Felixstowe is the end of the Suffolk coastline. It was where I spent the first years of my life and where my family still lives. Seeing the familiar skyline from the unfamiliar vantage of Bawdsey is always moving. This song says 'thank you' and recognises that there is still much to repay.