Lori McKenna’s first name is actually Lorraine. She is named after the mother she lost when she was only seven, but whose impact on Lori’s life reverberates to this day. In her sixth album, Lorraine, she considers the influence of her mother, who died at roughly the same age Lori is now, as well as her own place in relationship to her husband, family and community. It is her most personal album to date.
On the title track, Lori thinks back to scenes she remembers from her childhood (or thinks she does: “Well I don’t know if this part is true/How memories lie the way they do”) and how they reflect on her mother’s character: hard working, uncomplaining, sacrificing and loving, despite the health challenges that would eventually take her from her family. Lori allows the small details to carry the story. She remembers her mother smiling and dancing to a Judy Garland Carnegie Hall concert recording: “She said her cousin had a balcony seat.” If you lean in closely, you see the portrait of Lorraine taking shape. Her mother found joy in the music and joy that someone close to her had been lucky enough to be there, but no hint of feeling deprived for not experiencing it herself. Lorraine’s place was with her family, and she found contentment there. In the last verse, Lori looks at herself with the hope that she’s worthy of the name she was given, and the recognition that she might just be falling short (“I swear I’ve tried to be worthy of/The name they gave me when I was young/But I ain’t that pretty and I ain’t that brave/My kids have seen me cry/They should have given her name to my sister Marie/That don’t mean a thing to you but it does to me”).
Lori’s unusual combination of professional and personal life, at least in the context of the modern music industry, is well-documented. She grew up in Massachusetts in a musical household. Her father was an excellent singer, and her mother played the piano. Two of her older brothers were songwriters, one of whom (Richard) she considers largely responsible for her career. He accompanied a reluctant Lori to open mic nights and gave her confidence that she was good enough. She began performing her songs in public at age 27, after she and her husband Gene already had three children. She and Gene continue to maintain a happy home in Stoughton, Massachusetts, adding two more children to their full lives. In addition to family, place has an important role in Lori’s songs.
“Buy This Town” almost didn’t make the album. It was written the day after the album was completed, but Lori felt so strongly about the song, she and album producer Barry Dean went back to the studio to record it. It’s a love letter to Stoughton, replete with images of the working class environment and the good, hard-working people that are her neighbors. In the last verse of the song, she writes of a firefighter at the high school football game because his kid is playing. “That’s my neighbor John,” she says, “and his son Lucas is on the football team.” She also speaks about how place plays a role in some of her strongest and most enduring memories. It’s moments like a tearful one at the kitchen sink in the home she shares with Gene that Lori holds most dear (”If I could buy one night, I wouldn’t buy the one you’d think/I’d buy the one when my eyes teared up by the light above the kitchen sink/And you held me tight, and you begged me not to cry/If I could buy the sweetness of one kiss, that’s the one I’d buy/If I could buy one night”). The love of home and community is not some abstraction for Lori. It’s central to who she is.
She eventually became a staple of the Boston folk music scene, where she became friendly with Mary Gauthier. “We were the two old ladies in a sea of young faces,” she jokes. When Gauthier picked up and left for Nashville, she brought Lori’s music to the attention of her publisher. They got her music into the hands of Faith Hill, who fell hard for Lori’s songs. Hill recorded three of them for her album Fireflies. Lori’s way of articulating the love, pain and pathos of domestic life had a huge impact on Hill, and Hill’s very public championing of Lori’s music led other artists to Lori’s songs. Tim McGraw, Carrie Underwood, Alison Krauss, Keith Urban and LeAnn Rimes are among the many that have recorded her songs in recent years.
That Lori is a master at chronicling the small, difficult moments between romantic partners as they navigate their relationships is a big reason her songs have been so popular with other artists. Though she and Gene have a strong and happy marriage, they, like all couples, have their moments when they are not connecting. Lori channels the vulnerability of those moments in songs that give voice to anyone who has felt insecure even in the most committed of relationships. In the lead track of the album, “The Luxury Of Knowing,” the protagonist’s constancy is juxtaposed against her partner’s mercurial nature (“But just when I think you’re a hurricane/You freeze right over and all that rain/Turns to ice and your whole world just starts snowing/And I don’t have the luxury of knowing”), leaving her unable to feel secure in the relationship (“Damn it must be easy/Being in love with someone so blind/Cuz I’ll tell you right now the only thing I really know/Is that you might change your mind”). There are also moments that celebrate the love that accompanies the daily grind. “You Get A Love Song” is a fun romp that reminds us that often there’s no gold star or plaque for just showing up every day for your loved one, but at least for Gene, he gets the starring role in one of his wife’s songs.
The increased acclaim for her song craft led to a record deal with Warner Brothers, who released her 2007 album Unglamorous. Working with Tim McGraw (who co-produced the album), an appearance on Oprah and an opening slot on McGraw and Faith Hill’s Soul2Soul tour were heady experiences, and Lori is grateful for them. “The whole experience was wonderful, and there were several at Warner Brothers that worked so hard for my album,” she says, but there was always a sense that her music and their goals were not going to result in a perfect professional marriage. “Recording in Nashville, as good as the experience has been in many ways, is not exactly the safest way to guard your creative instincts.” Sales levels that would seem astronomical by the standards of the folk community that nurtured her were not enough for a subsequent regime at Warner Brothers, and they parted amicably. “One thing that did come out of that experience was a much deeper confidence in myself as an artist,” says Lori, which was one reason she decided to take the reins back in her professional life. By choice, she has no label and no manager for the first time in her career.
The album closes with a prayer to Lorraine. Lori used to pray to her mother when she was a child: there was a strong sense that Lorraine was watching over her. “I think I made better choices in my life because I felt she was there,” Lori says. “Still Down Here” is a prayer that Lorraine and all the loved ones who leave their earthly burdens behind remember the ones still here on Earth, still in need of their love and guidance. With a daughter so empathetic to the human condition and so loyal and loving to her family and community, one guesses that Lorraine is looking down, very proud.
www.lorimckenna.com
Josephine
Lori McKenna Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
(recorded live at Fox Run Concerts, per liner notes)
by Lori McKenna
Hey Josephine,
I loved you since the day you rolled inside of me.
Hey Josephine,
I hope you have the heart.
Well I do not have a picture,
I have never heard your voice.
In 1963 I did not have a choice.
Well, I was only 16 but I loved the boy.
He had a future
which a baby could not destroy.
Hey Josephine,
I loved you since the day you rolled inside of me.
Hey Josephine,
I hope you have the heart to forgive me.
Well, ask me all your questions,
I will tell no lies.
I don't expect you'll understand
or sympathize.
But where I was that moment
was not a good place to be.
I could not protect myself,
nevermind a baby.
Well, hey Josephine,
I loved you since the day you rolled inside of me.
Hey Josephine,
I hope you have the heart...
To forgive me....
I hope you have the heart to forgive me...
Hey Josephine,
I loved you since the day you rolled inside of me.
Hey Josephine,
I hope you have the heart....
Well I do not have a picture,
I've never heard your voice.
Lori McKenna's "Josephine" is a deeply poignant and moving song about a woman who had to make the heartbreaking decision to give up her child for adoption. The song speaks to the pain and regret she feels about this decision, while also acknowledging the circumstances that led her to make it.
The song opens with the haunting refrain "Hey Josephine, I loved you since the day you rolled inside of me." This line sets the tone for the rest of the song, as it establishes the deep and abiding love the mother feels for her child, even though they were separated at birth. The second verse delves into some of the factors that led the mother to give up her child - she was only 16 at the time, and the boy she was with had a future that would have been destroyed by the arrival of a baby. The mother acknowledges that she did not have a choice in the matter, even as she expresses her love for her child.
The chorus - "Hey Josephine, I hope you have the heart to forgive me" - is the emotional heart of the song. The mother is aware of the pain and hurt that her decision caused her child, and she is hoping that she can be forgiven, even though she knows that this may not be possible. The final verse continues to explore the mother's feelings about the adoption, as she acknowledges that where she was in her life at the time was not a good place to be. The song ends with the repetition of the opening lines, which serve as a poignant reminder of the love that still exists between mother and child, even if they are not together.
Overall, "Josephine" is a beautifully written and performed song that explores the complex emotions surrounding adoption and the difficult choices that mothers sometimes have to make.
Line by Line Meaning
Hey Josephine, I loved you since the day you rolled inside of me.
The singer reveals that she fell in love with her unborn child, Josephine, from the moment she found out about her.
Hey Josephine, I hope you have the heart.
The singer expresses hope that Josephine, who was put up for adoption, has the emotional capacity to forgive her mother for giving her away.
Well I do not have a picture, I have never heard your voice.
The singer admits to having no tangible connection with her child and that, despite the passing of years, she remains a complete stranger to her.
In 1963 I did not have a choice. Well, I was only 16 but I loved the boy.
The singer recalls the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy and the fact that she was too young and powerless to make her own choices.
He had a future which a baby could not destroy.
The singer justifies giving her child up for adoption by reasoning that her lover had a promising life ahead of him, which would have been put at risk by the arrival of a baby.
Well, ask me all your questions, I will tell no lies.
The singer assures Josephine that she is willing to answer questions about her past truthfully and transparently without any deceit or evasion.
I don't expect you'll understand or sympathize.
The singer anticipates that her child will probably not be able to relate to or appreciate the reasons behind her actions.
But where I was that moment was not a good place to be.
The singer alludes to facing personal difficulties during the time of her pregnancy, which made it difficult for her to take care of a baby.
I could not protect myself, nevermind a baby.
The singer explains that she was unable to take care of herself emotionally, let alone care for a baby, leaving her no choice but to give her child up for adoption.
Hey Josephine, I hope you have the heart to forgive me.
The singer reiterates her desire for her child's forgiveness for a decision made many years ago.
Contributed by Ruby Y. Suggest a correction in the comments below.