This is a series of posts about the music I listen to while writing.  This time we’re up to a strange song, The Last Leviathan.  I’m willing to bet that few of you have heard of this one.  It’s mostly known in the sea shanty and folk music communities and as far as I know is not widely known outside those communities.  It’s not a shanty, but best described as a song of the sea and a lament.  The words are the first person story told from the last living whale’s point of view of its own death.

Yeah, not exactly uplifting lyrics.  The music is haunting and best versions of this song are sung a cappella.  I’ve included links to two version of the song at the end of this post.  More about those in a moment.  The song could also be classified as a protest song as it describes the effects of losing a whole living species.

The opening words are “Last night I heard the cry of my last companion / The roar of the harpoon gun, then I was alone.”  It doesn’t delay or build up — it just opens with a gut punch and builds the image of the death of a vast number of whales, leviathans, and ends with the question, “What race will be next in line all for the slaughter? / The elephant or the seals or your sons and daughters?”

The song writer is warning us that if humans are willing to kill whole races, why stop at whales, seals or elephants.  Perhaps when we run out of things to kill we’ll turn on own children.

The Last Leviathan is not the easiest song to research the best I’ve found out is that it was written in the early 1980’s by Andy Barnes.  Originally titled, The Last of the Great Whales, it’s been recorded by at least 30 groups.  I first became aware of the song in the 1990’s after buying a CD of songs recorded by the Celtic Music Group, Golden Bough.  I first attended a Golden Bough performance at a church in San Jose, California and generally liked their style of Celtic, Irish and Scottish folk music.  I have a couple of their CDs.  I don’t think they tour anymore.

When I first heard Golden Bough’s recording of The Last Leviathan I was both repelled and fascinated by the song.  The lyrics are hard to listen to, but the music sung in a high soprano backed with harp is haunting, compelling and really makes you believe that a whale is actually singing the song.  Altogether it creates a realistic story that it is very believable.

It would be another couple of decades before I’d hear the song again.  In 2019 Heather and were in St. Ives in Cornwall enjoying a few day at the sea side.  It’s a pleasant coastal town with a small harbor and an active artist community.  We didn’t realize this when we planned the trip, but the weekend we were there was their annual arts festival.  There were art exhibits, talks, open studio tours and a number of music concerts.  One concert we went to was at a little church in town that included a Cornish Men’s Choir and The Bryher’s Boys, a sea shanty singing crew.  We enjoyed both and I eventually bought one of their CDs.

One of the songs The Bryher’s Boys sung was The Last Leviathan.   It was sung as solo by a tenor backed up with the voices of the rest of the group joining the chorus. The recording I list below is from one of their live performances and how I remember them performing it.  I like the emotion and feeling they put into the song and so far this version has become my favorite cover.  It turns out that I also really love their other music.  Sadly, they don’t do much recording as they are mostly a performance group. Since I don’t live in the UK where they tour, I’ve not heard them since 2019.  I will admit that I have been tempted to look up their touring schedule and booking a trip to see them and check out one of the music festivals they do.

Even though this song is on my playlist, I tend to cringe a bit when it starts to play and from time to time find the song slightly irritating.  Partly it’s because of the accusatory nature of the lyrics and partly there is a harshness to the music as it mimics the cry of a whale.  Still it ends up on my playlist because it does tell a story and sometimes it best to confront yourself with uncomfortable facts.  As a writer, and a poet, it’s often necessary to say things that I don’t like or find … challenging.  This song is a reminder to me that not all writing is happy or uplifting and sometimes we are called to tell the tragic story or harsh truth.