Travelling South:
The Story of the Song
Of all the songs in The Rise and Fall of Vinnie & Paul, Paul’s first number has the most chequered history.
Currently at version 3, the jury’s out on whether it's found its final form.
But here are the versions so far, and some thoughts about each one.
Currently at version 3, the jury’s out on whether it's found its final form.
But here are the versions so far, and some thoughts about each one.
Version 1: the breezy adventurer (CUT)
In this first draft, Paul is a freewheeling bounder, a cad who’s off on a rollicking new adventure.
He’s been offered free bed and board in Arles (which is what really happened: Theo van Gogh, Vinnie's brother, was paying them both an allowance so that they could work full-time as artists down in Vincent’s little yellow house).
Because Paul is alone and singing this song to himself, he can be totally honest about his motives. He's going where the money is.
The term 'gravy' is bandied about A LOT by him in this version, and in draft 1 of the show in general:
He’s been offered free bed and board in Arles (which is what really happened: Theo van Gogh, Vinnie's brother, was paying them both an allowance so that they could work full-time as artists down in Vincent’s little yellow house).
Because Paul is alone and singing this song to himself, he can be totally honest about his motives. He's going where the money is.
The term 'gravy' is bandied about A LOT by him in this version, and in draft 1 of the show in general:
Oh I sailed the seven seas
When I enlisted in the navy
Where I learned how to swim so I’m diving in
Making waves in the Van Gogh gravy...
The flouncy country bounce suggests a confident, breezy adventurer happy to go anywhere where "the moolah grows".
Charlie McCullagh lands it with winning panache and Max Alexander-Taylor’s guitar is a cheery delight (he wrote the part).
So why did I have second thoughts?
Charlie McCullagh lands it with winning panache and Max Alexander-Taylor’s guitar is a cheery delight (he wrote the part).
So why did I have second thoughts?
Version 2: the country balladeer (CUT)
Well, a few months after we'd released the first demos, Charlie rang me to chat about the script. "Should Paul have more of a story arc?" he wondered.
It was a fair question. In the first draft, Paul was close to being an out-and-out villain. He had no doubt or vulnerability. "Could he be more complex?" asked Charlie. "More human?"
The answer was, of course, "yes," and I set about it.
So in version 2, he's still on a train heading for Arles.
But I've banished the smug opportunist of version 1. I've ditched the guy who was, at best, sanguine and, at worst, proud of the fact he'd abandoned his wife and kids to pursue his artistic dreams.
In this draft, Paul's wife Sophie has rejected him, and we encounter him as a reeling, wound-licking rhinestone cowboy, a bruised Romeo fleeing a failed romance.
It was a fair question. In the first draft, Paul was close to being an out-and-out villain. He had no doubt or vulnerability. "Could he be more complex?" asked Charlie. "More human?"
The answer was, of course, "yes," and I set about it.
So in version 2, he's still on a train heading for Arles.
But I've banished the smug opportunist of version 1. I've ditched the guy who was, at best, sanguine and, at worst, proud of the fact he'd abandoned his wife and kids to pursue his artistic dreams.
In this draft, Paul's wife Sophie has rejected him, and we encounter him as a reeling, wound-licking rhinestone cowboy, a bruised Romeo fleeing a failed romance.
And if you stand up and say
That I'm running away
Then you took the words out of my mouth
I'm travelling south...
But though I've made him more insecure, I didn't want him to be totally mopey.
So I made sure he turns a hopeful corner in the lyric. He can't promise his journey south isn't going to be a disaster. Nor can he promise that it’s going to work out.
What he does know is that it's a new beginning.
And with new beginnings, anything is possible:
So I made sure he turns a hopeful corner in the lyric. He can't promise his journey south isn't going to be a disaster. Nor can he promise that it’s going to work out.
What he does know is that it's a new beginning.
And with new beginnings, anything is possible:
If you state quite plain there’s no danger of rain
Then I won’t know how to answer you back
And if you make your case that I can win this race
Then you haven’t seen the state of the track
But if you stand there and say “It’s a brand new day”
Then you took the words out of my mouth
I’m travelling south
I'm definitely fond of version 2. Charlie delivers another knockout vocal and Max's guitars are a chiming treat (the Byrds-like Rickenbacker he brings in halfway through was a lovely surprise when I first heard it).
But rather than confirming it as a 'set-in-stone' song, I think I'll send it to country music artists to see what they make of it.
Because immediately after writing it, I decided that it’s still not right. Paul is just TOO nice this time, TOO vulnerable.
I needed to strike a balance.
But rather than confirming it as a 'set-in-stone' song, I think I'll send it to country music artists to see what they make of it.
Because immediately after writing it, I decided that it’s still not right. Paul is just TOO nice this time, TOO vulnerable.
I needed to strike a balance.
Version 3: the final version?
Third time lucky? Or three strikes and you're out? Eeek. We shall see.
Okay, as in all previous versions, Paul is on his way to Vinnie's little yellow house in Arles.
But instead of the convenient money spinner of Version 1 or the safe haven of Version 2, this time Paul's destination at 2 Place Lamartine is a total and utter last chance saloon – a bitter pill to swallow.
He barely knows Vincent (which is true – they were really only on nodding terms when they lived in Paris). In travelling to Arles, is he making a massive mistake?
He thinks of abandoning the plan and going back to his wife – but quickly realises that she'll never take him back.
He considers returning to an artist’s colony he was part of in Brittany – but debts haunt him there.
So by the middle eight, his determination to turn on his heel in the first half becomes a sickening resignation to plough on with the plan: “Oh balls. I’ve got to do this, cos beggars can’t be choosers”.
I'm hoping it's a stark contrast to the sunny 'I Want' song that precedes it (Vinnie's Our Little Yellow House). In that song, Vinnie looks forward to a fruitful future with his new artistic ally. The idea with this version of Travelling South is to plunge the audience into a state of suspense: how can this possibly work out?
So, is this the final version of Travellin’ South?
I doubt it. As discussed with fellow writers at BML workshop, the arrangement is too intense for Paul's opening number. It needs to be a lot less bombastic – it has a 'facing the dragon' kind of vibe that makes it sound like a song from late in the show rather than the start.
It's meant to be full of relatable doubt and anxiety, but my arrangement makes it sound like it's full of resentment and anger.
So it's back to the drawing board I think! Glooargh. In the words of Paul himself...
Okay, as in all previous versions, Paul is on his way to Vinnie's little yellow house in Arles.
But instead of the convenient money spinner of Version 1 or the safe haven of Version 2, this time Paul's destination at 2 Place Lamartine is a total and utter last chance saloon – a bitter pill to swallow.
He barely knows Vincent (which is true – they were really only on nodding terms when they lived in Paris). In travelling to Arles, is he making a massive mistake?
He thinks of abandoning the plan and going back to his wife – but quickly realises that she'll never take him back.
He considers returning to an artist’s colony he was part of in Brittany – but debts haunt him there.
So by the middle eight, his determination to turn on his heel in the first half becomes a sickening resignation to plough on with the plan: “Oh balls. I’ve got to do this, cos beggars can’t be choosers”.
I'm hoping it's a stark contrast to the sunny 'I Want' song that precedes it (Vinnie's Our Little Yellow House). In that song, Vinnie looks forward to a fruitful future with his new artistic ally. The idea with this version of Travelling South is to plunge the audience into a state of suspense: how can this possibly work out?
So, is this the final version of Travellin’ South?
I doubt it. As discussed with fellow writers at BML workshop, the arrangement is too intense for Paul's opening number. It needs to be a lot less bombastic – it has a 'facing the dragon' kind of vibe that makes it sound like a song from late in the show rather than the start.
It's meant to be full of relatable doubt and anxiety, but my arrangement makes it sound like it's full of resentment and anger.
So it's back to the drawing board I think! Glooargh. In the words of Paul himself...
Only time will tell what the future's gonna bring...
