For as long as I can remember, man, I’ve always been puzzled by the lyrics of “White Room,” by the smokin’ hot rock group Cream, man. From the moment I heard it in 1968, I was like, “Whoa, dude.” I was hooked, man. I loved the music, even though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was about, man. So, I went to the library and looked it up.
White Room, noun
“…a room from which all contaminants have been eliminated
and in which temperature, humidity, and pressure are controlled.”
–Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Edition
That was absolutely no help, man. Why would someone write an entire song about a contaminant-free room, man? I thought, “He must have been dropping acid,” man. As it turns out, that wasn’t far from the truth, man.
I dug a little deeper, man, and found out that the lyrics were co-written by Pete Brown and Jack Bruce. Dig it, man. Brown was known for his far out beat poetry and wild, creative mind, man. He and Jack Bruce laid down this track, and it became this heavy piece of rock history, man. Pete was all about creating these abstract, mind-blowin’ images that really make you think and feel, man. It’s like he was painting with words, man, creating this world you could get lost in, man. According to Brown,
“There was this kind of transitional period where I lived in this actual white room and was trying to come to terms with various things that were going on. It’s a place where I stopped, I gave up all drugs and alcohol at that time in 1967 as a result of being in the white room, so it was a kind of watershed period. That song’s like a kind of weird little movie: it changes perspectives all the time. That’s why it’s probably lasted – it’s got a kind of mystery to it.”
The song’s about feeling stuck, like in a white room, which might sound like a bummer, man, but it’s also about finding a way out. It’s a trip, man, because even in this cosmic scene, you can dig the hope in the music, man. And, man, those phrases like “goodbye windows” and “tired starlings,” they’re like poetry, man. They paint this picture in your head that’s just far out, man. You can see it, feel it, like you’re right there, man.
Here are the original lyrics that puzzled me for so long, man:
In a white room with black curtains near the station
Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes
Dawn light smiles on you leaving, my contentment
I’ll wait in this place where the sun never shines
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves
You said no strings could secure you at the station
Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows
I walked into such a sad time at the station
As I walked out, felt my own need, just beginning
I’ll wait in the queue when the trains come back
Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves
At the party, she was kindness in the hard crowd
Consolation for the old wound now forgotten
Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes
She’s just dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings
I’ll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd
Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves
Wow, man. That’s heavy. But then, after mulling it over, I thought, “Hey, wait a minute, man! I’ve written songs before! In fact, more than one! I can write a song about total gibberish and get it published, man. Especially with the help of ChatGPT, man.” So, I sat down and wrote “The Song the Pathway,” man. Here’s what I came up with, man:
Down on the somber trail, where the dusk meets the murmurs,
A Quonset wind whispers tales of the weary and lost.
Harold’s voice drifts away, recounting the velder fields,
A lone figure trudges onward, paths that seem forever.
Beneath the shadowed sky, on a stretch of jagged grumble,
A figure sips from a battered flask, contemplating days long fragmented.
He bears stories of burdens, a heart laden with jumbles,
Uttering thoughts to fading mirages, ensnared in hazy struggles.
On the somber pathway, where desolate hearts linger,
There exists a sliver of solace in the echoes of thunder.
A cadence for each heartache, a whisper for every sorrow,
On the somber pathway, anguish finds its welcome.
In the umbra, Lila waits, eyes clouded with glisten,
Holding onto a frail promise from a distant wanderer.
Bearing quiet burdens, quelling her profoundest fears,
She murmurs to the shadows, “I’ve endured these countless eons.”
A drifter pauses by the roadside, hat pulled low in obscura,
Seeking a fleeting sensation on these ceaseless trails of culpa.
With each step, echoes emerge from places forsaken,
The path’s winding corners hold charts of derelict minds.
If you’re bearing the weight, the road has been far too extensive,
Rest your burdened heart now in a place of belonging.
Narratives of the forsaken, dreams that veered astray,
Discover tranquility on the somber pathway.
On the somber pathway, where desolate hearts linger,
There exists a sliver of solace in the echoes of thunder.
A cadence for each heartache, a whisper for every sorrow,
On the somber pathway, anguish finds its welcome.
A ponderer sits by the wayside,
clutching a tome marred and tethered,
Mulling over queries where answers bear no substance.
Proffering notions to souls who meander past and listen,
Tonight he yearns for silence in the hum of gentle disquiet.
On the somber pathway, where desolate hearts linger,
There exists a sliver of solace in the echoes of thunder.
A cadence for each heartache, a whisper for every sorrow,
On the somber pathway, anguish finds its welcome.
In the end, man, “White Room” is about the highs and lows, the ups and downs, man. It’s about life, man. And the way Cream played it, with such soul and groove, it makes you feel connected, man, even when the lyrics talk about being disconnected, man. That’s the power of music, man. It brings people together, even when it’s talking about feeling apart, man.
I have no idea what my song, “The Song the Pathway” is about, man. I just like the way it sounds, man.
So, yeah, “White Room” is a total trip, man, a journey through the mind, with all its freaky, psychedelic vibes. It’s a groovy tune that’s still outta sight all these years later, man.
But, I still don’t understand what the song’s about, man.
