The Emigration Playlist: 64 years of songs. # 10 Josephine - Chris Rea (Soundlabtec Ukraine Edit) 2019

 

First an explanation. This song didn't, of course, first appear in 2019. It first came out in 1985, on Chris Rea's album Shamrock Diaries. Various remixes have appeared over the years, and one of them became a chillout hit in Ibiza and elsewhere in 1988. That remix may have been this one, but there were a number out there so I can't be sure. The first time I can positively identify the song appearing on an album is on Chris Rea's re-release of The Road To Hell (Deluxe) in 2019. This version was on it as Josephine (Remastered).

When did I first hear it? Certainly some years before 2019 - exactly when I cannot say. Perhaps even ten years. 

That's why the song is cropping up under 2019 and not over 30 years earlier. It's the best date I've got - and it's my list so there you are! 😉. 

So that's a whole lot of stuff about a song you may not really know, which is I guess a diversion from answering the question - why have I included a song that's got my name in it? Narcissistic much? Bit weird?

I should say that I wasn't grabbed by the original massively. A bit plodding in a pleasant and harmless sort of way with sort of funk-mandolin thing going on, it felt unlikely to trouble anyone's Top 100. I wasn't actually a massive Chris Rea fan, other than some of the big singles, like Driving Home For Christmas (which is lovely) and On The Beach and The Road to Hell. Perfectly able to accept that he was a musician's musician, much respected, and a solid, credible left wing activist with Middlesborough roots growing through him, he was on my long list to investigate further one day though. And perhaps I will, now he has, alas gone. Perhaps I have grown into him.

But this song - in this version - I absolutely adore. The pace moves up, there's a crisp and efficient drum track, a gorgeous little funk guitar weaves around, strings glide, while the bass anchors it all underneath. The mix is superb. Cool as that slice of cucumber floating in your August glass of Pimms. Smooth as sliding on that bodycon silk dress you love getting into. It's a beautifully assembled song. 

And of course it's called Josephine. Chris Rea sings of his love for Josephine - the song was originally written for his young daughter - and the lyrics work deftly if you know that, or if you don't. Josephine could be a partner - it's clearly someone he loves dearly. 

I listen to the lyrics and imagine them being sung to me. Usually alone in the car. For a long time, I didn't feel lovable. For a long time, especially as I approached transition, facing abuse and humiliation, I imagined that I would never find love - that no-one would speak the things that are sung in this song to me, or ever feel them. It was the price I was getting ready to have to pay, to live as me. The words of this song remind me that all those fears were not ultimately true - I did find someone. That person loves me deeply and I love them. We are married. We are soulmates.

I also sing the song to myself when I'm feeling down - which, since the British witch hunt against trans women got into full swing perhaps eight years ago - I have to admit has been often. There have been times when I have been desperate. Sad, lonely, in despair. It's often been hard to feel wanted in England and in the last 2-3 years, the media, political establishment and judiciary have made absolutely clear that I am not - it's the reason I am going. So to feel wanted, as this song makes me feel, reaches me where I need to be reached, now that the country on which I have relied for my entire life has betrayed me. 

There's one other thing. The song makes me think of my late Mum. The day I went to tell her that I was transitioning - 19 years ago - was also the day that I needed to tell her that my marriage was over. There was a staggering amount for my Mum to take in all at once, and to be honest, long widowed, 82 and not known to always be the easiest (nor 'wokest') of parents to have I was seriously concerned that the trans aspect of my news might result in me being shown the door for good. 

I couldn't have been more wrong. After 45 years of knowing me one way, after a few minutes as she took it all in and I showed her a few photos, she unequivocally accepted me. As we talked things over, she came to ask me about the name I used.

"Jo" I said. 

"What's that short for?" she asked.

This foxed me a bit. For years I'd just used Jo, in the times I'd been able to bring this part of me - the essence of me, the real me - into existence. "I don't really know Mum", I said, then fumbled about. "Joanna??" I ventured, unconvincingly. 

My Mum's Cork accent flared up, "I don't like Joanna" she said. "Josephine. I like Josephine. You're Josephine" she declared, emphatically and clearly not expecting me to demand a say in any of this. 

So just as infants don't get asked their name preferences, so I got re-christened by my Mum. I loved the symmetry, the meaning of the moment and the gift of my name from my mother. Josephine I became, and am. 

My Mum died six months later, at Christmas, quite suddenly. Those six months were full of acceptance for me from her. Joy even in my discovery of myself. Which was so vital as my marriage unravelled which much pain. 

A version of Chris Rea's Josephine then. As much for my Mum as for me, I guess. 

What else was in the frame for 2019? Not a year that brings masses to mind for me, but Cali by reformed 90s indie band Ride was tremendous - a song to put you on the beach at Santa Monica and long for youth again. Likewise, Sharon van Etten's Seventeen had me pining for teenage years again - a teenhood spent as the girl I am, naturally. Side note, Sharon's long standing backing band contains a trans woman on bass, Devra Hoff. Which gives you another reason to check out her fabulous, edgy, Courtney Love Meets Patti Smith brand of grungy rock. 

Until next time.

****

Readying myself for emigration, I am putting together the soundtrack of a whole life spent in England. You can read more about why I am doing this here: https://kierkegaardslunch.blogspot.com/2026/08/mourning-england-in-song-part-1.html