Last weekend, I wrote here about the scarcity of songs of contemporary working life in Newfoundland and Labrador, and I asked you if you've heard songs about working in the oilpatch or framing up a house.

I have been wondering which of those songs would endure to be sung by pub bands and chamber choirs a hundred years from now, the way we now sing, say, Let Me Fish Off Cape St. Mary's.

And you weighed in!

Songs of different styles

One web commenter recommended D'arcy Broderick's recording of Black Gold. The song, by Irish songwriter Pete St. John, is about oil rig workers in the North Sea, but the lyrics could easily apply to many Newfoundlanders and Labradorians working on the Grand Banks.

Another commenter pointed me towards a St. John's band called Emerald's Fleet. Their song, See You Next Year, is about raising a pint (or several) with their friends before moving to Alberta "to make the big dough" doing seasonal work. You can hear it streaming here.

Stig Stiletto, of local late 1970s punk band Da Slyme, dropped me an email to remind me of his band's not-safe-for-radio hit I Hate My Job. It's hard to find audio evidence of this song on the web, but I've been told that punk fans of a certain age have it on LPs stored in their basements.

But perhaps the most insight into my quest for modern N.L. working songs came from Jim Payne, the composer of the Rig Workers' Alphabet.

Jim Payne's thoughts

Payne wrote to assure me — as many of you did — that songs certainly are being written about working in Alberta and working in construction, but he pointed out a key difference between the modern and historical songs.

"To my mind, why it is harder to find these songs, is that the songs written now are about work as opposed to being of work. What I mean by that is that traditionally songs of work were composed to set rhythms of work, sung while the work was being done, as opposed to songs about work which are sung after the work is done, or recreationally, so to speak," wrote Payne.

"Songs of work, such as shanties used at sea or in the woods, really began to diminish as mechanized labour saving devices came into use, thereby changing the rhythms of work, but more importantly, creating a great deal of noise which precluded the creation of voice induced rhythmic patterns. Songs could no longer be sung in those situations."

Songs about work, or about commuting to work away, for example, include the songwriter's reaction to a much broader range of implications, so that it's not specifically about the work, but the impact of being away on both the family and the worker, an emotional response to the environment one leaves, as well as that to which the worker goes to work, the trials of the journey by plane, etc...."

We need to listen more

Payne ended his email with this.

"I think there will always be songs written about work as long as people identify so closely with the work they do. And despite the noise level in our workplaces, rhythmic elements of that work will find its way into the songs. I guess I feel that it is part of the normal evolution of folk music. It changes with the society it represents to reflect current conditions."

So maybe those of us who are musically inclined need to listen harder at work to find the rhythm in the clacking computer keyboard or the melody in the high-pitched whine of the electric drill.

The quintessential post-fishery Newfoundland and Labrador working song might yet be unwritten.

Or, we'll have to brace ourselves for the four-part harmonized chamber choir version of Da Slyme's I Hate My Job.