Death Don’t Have No Mercy – Reverend Gary Davis

SONG: Death Don’t Have No Mercy

WRITTEN BY: Traditional; arranged by Reverend Gary Davis

PERFORMED BY: Reverend Gary Davis (et al., including the Grateful Dead, Dave Van Ronk & Bob Dylan)

APPEARS ON: Reverend Gary Davis: Harlem Street Singer; Live at Newport; Heroes of the Blues - The Very Best of Reverend Gary Davis (Shout Factory)

A while back I posted one of my wife Eberle Umbach’s essays on my blog, Robert Frosts Banjo; the essay's one of a ongoing series by her & her writing partner Audrey Bilger that we’ve called Women’s Art is Women’s Work. This particular essay had the picturesque title, “My Juggy My Puggy My Honey My Bunny,” & discussed euphemism in the19th century, particularly as this related to various sexual “unmentionables.” In the course of the essay, Eberle discussed how 19th century folk, while apt to euphemize sex, had far fewer taboos about death than we do; various memento mori, many of which we’d find shocking, were commonplace. These days, especially in the United States, people try to cast a blind eye toward death—our parents & grandparents are taken to various “homes” to pass their final days, & the whole process is—in theory—as sanitary as possible.

The song “Death Don’t Have No Mercy” comes from an earlier world—in this view, Death is a real entity—akin to the personified Death of Medieval artwork. He has human characteristics—he’s “always in a hurry,” “never takes a vacation,” & so forth. In addition, Death doesn’t come to the nursing home or the hospital—“ He’ll come to your house & he won’t stay long.”

There’s a great starkness to this song, & Reverend Gary Davis’ powerful vocal adds a great urgency & immediacy to the desolately realistic lyrics—because for all the personification, the song is presenting the uncomfortable & undeniable truth that death comes to all, in its own time.

Of course, the Reverend Gary Davis was a master guitarist, a true virtuoso in the Piedmont blues fingerpicking style, which stresses syncopation &, with its alternating bass & index finger, actually hearkens back to some early banjo playing styles. That mastery is on display on all his recordings of “Death Don’t Have No Mercy”—to him, the solos were the guitar’s "talk" (Davis favored a jumbo guitar, which he called Miss Gibson in a nod to the manufacturer). Having said that, it’s worth noting that Davis never dazzles simply for dazzles sake—his solos on “Death Don’t Have No Mercy” carry the song forward, & partake of the overall air of starkness & immediacy.

If I might be excused to make this song “topical” for a moment, I wonder sometimes if our culture weren’t so determined to make death & illness invisible if we’d have so much consternation about health care reform. Is the scenario of “I’ve got mine, & let the other guy fend for himself” in part a product of a peculiar U.S. obsession with eternal youth & a somewhat Darwinian disdain for the sick & disabled? Is it really so shortsighted as “That won’t happen to me”? The Reverend says it will—he says it pretty strong.

The lyrics are transcribed from the version on Harlem Street Singer; the vidclip is from one of the 1960s Newport Folk Festivals—the lyrics vary a bit, but not in any really material ways.

I find this one of the most moving pieces of music I know; hope it has some meaning for you as well.


Death Don’t Have No Mercy

Death don't have no mercy in this land
Death don't have no mercy in this land
He’ll come to your house & he won’t stay long
You look in the bed, & somebody will be gone
Death don't have no mercy in this land

Death will go in any family in this land
Death will go in every family in this land
Well he’ll come to your house & he won’t stay long
Look in the bed & one of the family will be gone
Death will go in any family in this land

Well he never takes no vacation in this land
Old Death don't take no vacation in this land
Come to your house, & he won stay long
Look in the bed & your mother will be gone
Death don't take no vacation in this land

Well he’ll leave you standing and crying in this land
Death will leave you standing and crying in this land
He comes into your house and he won't stay long
You look in the bed, & somebody will be gone
Death will leave you standing and crying in this land

Death is always in a hurry in this land
Death is always in a hurry in this land
Come to your house, & he won't stay long
Look in the bed & your mother will be gone
Death is always in a hurry in this land

Well, he won’t give you time to get ready in this land
Well, he won’t give you time to get ready in this land
Come to your house, & he won't stay long
You look in the bed, & somebody will be gone
Death won’t give you time to get ready in this land