Just A Song

Caravan - Juan Tizol and Duke Ellington

2011-08-06T11:54:00.000-07:00

SONG Caravan

WRITTEN BY Juan Tizol; arrangement by Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington

PERFORMED BY The Duke Ellington Orchestra, Chet Atkins and Les Paul

APPEARS ON "Caravan" single by the Ellington Orchestra (1937); Chester & Lester, Chet Atkins and Les Paul (1976)

There's not much detail to report on this song, other than the fact that it's one of the classics of the Big Band era. Of course, anyone who knows me knows I practically worship the ground Ellington walked on, and consider him on of the quintessential American composers and performers. "Caravan" may have been written by Juan Tizol, but it was Duke Ellington's arrangement for the orchestra that makes the song what it is.

Juan Tizol, a trombonist who had played with Ellington since 1929, was born in Puerto Rico in 1900. Aside from forming Ellington's first signature powerhouse trombone section with Tricky Sam Nanton, Tizol often copied parts for the orchestra and contributed the occasional composition. His most famous contributions were "Caravan" and "Perdido", both classics of the Big Band repertoire. In fact, Tizol's compositions are often credited with creating an interest in Latin stylings in jazz which eventually became Latin Jazz.

Irving Mills wrote lyrics to this song, but almost no one used them. For the bulk of its career this song has always been performed as an instrumental. So we'll break the Just A Song tradition of posting the lyrics this time.

This first video is a promotional film of Duke and the orchestra playing "Caravan" in 1952. That's Tizol playing the trombone.

I decided to include this cover version by Chet Atkins and Les Paul from their 1976 recording Chester & Lester because (a) I'm a huge fan of both guitarists and an even huger fan of their two collaboration albums, Chester & Lester (1976) and Guitar Monsters (1978). I first heard their version of "Caravan" on Eric in the Evening, the signature jazz show on WGBH in Boston, pretty much the paramount public radio station in the US. Once I heard the song I needed to find the album, and I've been in love ever since. These are the two classiest guitarists in guitar history, and their cover of a tune by the elegant and sophisticated Duke was a match made in heaven . Enjoy!

I Will Always Love You - Dolly Parton & Whitney Houston

2011-05-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

SONG I Will Always Love You

WRITTEN BY Dolly Parton

PERFORMED BY Dolly Parton, Whitney Houston

APPEARS ON Dolly Parton: Jolene (1974); Whitney Houston: The Bodyguard: Original Soundtrack Album (1992)

This will probably come as a surprise to many people who know me, but I love Dolly Parton; she's always been one of the better songwriters in Nashville, her songs are usually about the common people in the hills and how they survive, and she has, like Iris DeMent, one of those old-soul, sound-of-the-hills voices that sends shivers up my spine. And "I Will Always Love You" is my second favorite song of hers, right after "Coat of Many Colors". She richly deserves the title of the Queen of Country Music.

This song, written in 1973, is about her professional break-up with Country legend Porter Wagoner, who discovered her and served as her mentor in the tough music world of Nashville. She was an integral part of Wagoner's show and assumed the status of partner in the enterprise, but it was time for her to move off on her own. It was a bittersweet parting; it was a sad time for both Dolly and Porter, but both agreed it was time for her to pursue a solo career. The lyrics express the nature of the parting, but couched in the words of a star-crossed love song. Not that Parton and Wagoner were lovers; Dolly was and still is happily married to Carl Thomas Dean. But the relationship was close and the parting was a sad one

Lyrics:

If I should stay
Well I would only be in your way
And so I'll go, and yet I know
That I'll think of you each step of my way

And I will always love you
I will always love you

Bittersweet memories
That's all I have and all I'm taking with me
Good-bye, oh please don't cry
Cause we both know that I'm not what you need

But I will always love you
I will always love you

And I hope life will treat you kind
And I hope that you have all
That you ever dreamed of
Oh I do wish you joy and I wish you happiness
But above all of this, I wish you love
I love you, I will always love you

I, I will always, always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you

The best way to listen to Dolly sing this is live; I don't know when this video was made, but judging by her appearance here I'd say sometime in the mid to late '90s.

In 1992 Whitney Houston co-starred with Kevin Costner in the movie The Bodyguard, about a former Secret Service guard turned private bodyguard assigned to guard a superstar singer from a stalker. The movie didn't really amount to much, but Houston's singing "I Will Always Love You" broke records and sold 12 million copies worldwide, at a time when her career had reached a low point and she needed a boost. Originally she was slated to sing Jimmy Ruffin's "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted", but the song was already being used in Fried Green Tomatoes, so Costner suggested Dolly Parton's song as an alternative. The rest is history.

I'm more partial to Dolly Parton's version than Whitney Houston's, but then I like Tim Hardin's version of his song "Reason to Believe" over Rod Stewart's; I just have this personal quirk of liking the original over the cover in most cases. That said, Whitney Houston's version is still fantastic. The suits at Arista Records didn't like the a capella intro, but both Houston and Costner insisted that it stay, and they were right; it adds an extra sense of drama to the song, fitting with the movie.

In the aftermath of Houston's hiuge hit with the song, rumors started circulating that there was a feud between Parton and Houston over the latter's success with the former's song. Both ladies went on record denying the rumors, and Parton has claimed that Whitney Houston made her rich with that success, so she has no complaints.

In any event, here's the official video of Whitney Houston's version of the song, complete with scenes from the movie. Enjoy!

"Life on Mars?" - David Bowie

2011-03-29T02:27:00.000-07:00

SONG: "Life on Mars?"

WRITTEN BY: David Bowie

PERFORMED BY: David Bowie

APPEARS ON: Hunky Dory (RCA, 1971)

Music exists in a limbo, in which the importance of language and images is either subjugated, or obliterated by the power of conspiring melodies to move the human heart. One needs no prior training in the craft of “music appreciation”, nor expertise in the field of music theory to feel what is great in a song. Film occupies a divergent and parallel space in the world of art. In film, image is primary, while sound functions as a secondary means of expression. But the synthesis of these two disparate mediums has become an art form unto itself.

Since A Hard Day's Night (United Artists, 1964), The Graduate (Embassy, 1967) and Easy Rider (Columbia, 1969), popular music, and movies have enjoyed a fruitful symbiotic relationship in which both mediums transform, inform, enhance and clarify the meaning of the other. For me, a scene from Wes Anderson’s The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (Touchstone, 2004), featuring David Bowie's anthemic "Life on Mars?", embodies that elusive alchemical quality. Film and song wed express the underlying despair threatening to overwhelm them both. The image is indelible - it makes the picture and reinvents the song.

---

LIFE ON MARS?

-David Bowie

It's a godawful small affair

to the girl with the mousy hair,

But her mummy is yelling, "No!",

and her daddy has told her to go,

But her Friend is nowhere to be seen,

Now she walks through her sunken dream

to the seat with the clearest view

and she's hooked to the silver screen,

But the film is a saddening bore,

for she's lived it ten times, or more,

She could spit in the eyes of fools

as they ask her to focus on

Sailors fighting in the dancehall,

Oh, man! Look at those cavemen go,

It's the freakiest show,

Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy,

Oh, man! Wonder if he'll ever know

he's in the bestselling show?

Is there life on Mars?

It's on America's tortured brow,

Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow,

Now the workers have struck for fame,

'cause Lennon's on sale again,

See the mice in their million hordes,

from Ibiza to the Norfolk Broads,

Rule Britannia is out of bounds

to my mother, my dog and clowns,

But the film is a saddening bore,

'Cause I wrote it ten times, or more

It's about to be writ again

as I ask you to focus on

Sailors fighting in the dancehall,

Oh, man! Look at those cavemen go,

It's the freakiest show,

Take a look at the lawman beating up the wrong guy,

Oh, man! Wonder if he'll ever know

he's in the bestselling show?

Is there life on Mars?

---

Crazy - Willie Nelson and Patsy Cline

2011-02-19T12:06:00.000-08:00

SONG - Crazy

WRITTEN BY - Willie Nelson

PERFORMED BY - Patsy Cline

APPEARS ON - Patsy Cline Showcase (1961)

I'm a huge Willie Nelson fan, and "Crazy" has always been one of my favorite Willie tunes. Not so much because Willie wrote it (although I think there's no arguing the fact that only he could have written this song), but because it was made immortal by the late, great Patsy Cline. Plenty of other people, including Willie, have recorded it - Linda Ronstadt, Julio Iglesias, Kenny Rogers, Dottie West, the Waifs, and LeAnn Rimes to name a few - but it's famous and beloved because Patsy Cline sang it.

The song is quirky; the lyrics describe the singer's state of bemusement at the singer's own helpless love for the object of his affection. And Willie Nelson's original arrangement was fast and somewhat jerky. The story goes that when it was first presented to Patsy Cline she hated it. But her producer, Owen Bradley, loved it, and to make it more palatable to Cline he arranged it as a much slower ballad. Despite Nelson's original arrangement, the complex melody was perfectly suited to Cline's vocal talents and style, and slowing it down brought that out. The public agreed; the song spent 21 weeks on the country music charts, it became Patsy's signature song, and it turned Willie Nelson from an unknown to one of the most prolific and sought-after songwriters in Nashville.

Lyrics

I'm crazy
Crazy for feeling so lonely
I'm crazy
Crazy for feeling so blue

I know
You'd love me as long as you wanted
Then someday
Leave me for somebody new

(bridge)

Worry
Why do I let myself worry
Wond'ring
What in the world did I do

Crazy
For thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for crying
I'm crazy for trying
I'm crazy for loving you

Here's Patsy Cline's immortal version of the song:

Another fairly famous version is the one by LeAnn Rimes. I'm not particularly a Rimes fan, but her rendition of "Crazy" is pretty powerful. In a way it's her homage to Patsy Cline, who Rimes considers one of her major influences. This version is certainly respectful of Cline's classic interpretation while still letting Rimes show off some pretty impressive vocal chops.

And last is one of my favorite performances of "Crazy" - Diana Krall, Elvis Costello, and Willie Nelson live on stage. Krall's sultry voice certainly does things for this song, as does her usual outstanding piano playing. And it's no secret that Elvis Costello is a huge fan of American country music (he did a whole CD of George Jones songs, among other things); based on his performance here, I'd love to hear him do his own cover of the tune. This version is lots of fun!

"The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" - The Band

2010-12-18T09:52:00.000-08:00

SONG: "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down"

WRITTEN BY: Robbie Robertson

PERFORMED BY: The Band

APPEARS ON: The Band (1969)

In a making-of documentary concerning the Band's self-titled album, Robbie Robertson recalls a visit with Levon Helm's parents in Arkansas:

"I was at Levon's house and I was there with his mom, and dad. At one point in the conversation his dad said - just kiddingly, but there was some sincerity in it at the same time - and he said to me, 'Well, you know, Robbie, one of these days the South is gonna rise again.' "

He seems at once pleased and troubled by the recollection. The same feeling I have every time I listen to "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down".

Is it an ode to a vanished way of life? And if so, which way is that? The way of the bunkhouse and the lash?

Is it a plea for understanding of those still suffering, at least in their imaginations, from scars left by the War of Northern Aggression?

It is easy to jump to either conclusion. But it is more reasonable to assume that what Robertson wrote is but a well-crafted character study. He evokes a time and place with entirely human longings that are relatable if a bit uncomfortable. It's a great little piece of Realism. A holding-up of the mirror in which one sees the good and the bad, the beautiful and the grotesque. It makes the listener yearn for a simpler time and glad to live in a more civilized age. Through songs like "Dixie", each and every Band listener is invited to share the experience of American heritage, even or especially the unflattering parts.

And like all great songs, it has an irresistible melody.

---

THE NIGHT THEY DROVE OLD DIXIE DOWN

-Robbie Robertson

Virgil Caine is the name

and I served on the Danville train,

'Til Stoneman's cavalry came

and tore up the tracks again,

In the winter of '65

we were hungry, just barely alive,

By May the tenth, Richmond had fell,

It's a time, I remember oh so well,

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the bells were ringin',

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the people were singin', they went,

La, la-la, la-la, la-la,

La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la,

Back with my wife in Tennessee

when one day she called to me,

"Virgil quick come see,

"There goes Robert E. Lee"

Now I don't mind choppin' wood

and I don't care if the money's no good,

You take what you need and you leave the rest,

but they should never, have taken the very best,

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the bells were ringin',

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the people were singin', they went,

La, la-la, la-la, la-la,

La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la,

Like my father before me

I will work the land,

Like my brother above me

who took a rebel stand,

He was just eighteen, proud and brave,

but a Yankee laid him in his grave,

I swear by the mud below my feet,

you can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat,

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the bells were ringin',

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the people were singin', they went,

La, la-la, la-la, la-la,

La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la,

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the bells were ringin',

The night they drove old Dixie down,

And the people were singin', they went,

La, la-la, la-la, la-la,

La-la, la, la-la, la, la-la, la.

---

Maze - Golden Time of Day

2010-10-24T19:55:00.000-07:00

SONG: Golden Time of Day

WRITTEN BY: Frankie Beverly

PERFORMED BY: Maze

APPEARS ON: “Golden Time of Day” (1978)

Every now and then in the evening I like to go stand outside when the sky is clear and the humidity isn’t so bad to watch the sun go down. The evening is the transition between all of the pressures of the day you just had and the preparation for the next day ahead. It’s where you take a few minutes to reflect. I’m always over thinking everything anyway so I really don’t need any inspiration but there are a few moments where looking up at the sunlight sends me drifting. If it’s a really good day in New Orleans I might drive to the lakefront or the river to sit around and watch the water. I like going sit on the lake to smoke a cigar and think. In the evening the sun is setting on the west and it gets that bright orange look and makes the water shine.

The neighborhood and the rough environment of the city isn’t that far away but for some reason being in that spot helps you escape for a few minutes. Even if the day doesn’t allow itself for a trip to the water a few minutes of sitting on your porch or your front steps will do the trick. We’re looking for that space that says everything is going to be okay. The bills are going to get paid. The family is going to be alright. I’m going to be happy.

After the Saints game today I drove to the store and Golden Time of Day by Maze came on the radio. The song was recorded in 1978 and appears on the album of the same name. I have introduced this blog to Maze featuring Frankie Beverly before. I hate to go back to one of their songs so soon but I’m from New Orleans and they are a big part of my community’s personality. A lot of their songs are like song tracks to our lives. They recorded a live album here in 1980 and their popularity has been based down from one generation to the next. When the song came on I wanted to keep on riding for awhile, enjoy the fresh air and see what was going on around the city. The lyrics of the song are a perfect description of how you feel during moments like that. I just wanted to give the song some love with a blog post. I and my friend were supposed to be working a blog project that would list our life soundtracks. We haven’t done it yet but I am sure we will. This song may be on mind for all the days I tried to get away form it all even if it was just for a few minutes.

Lyrics:

There's a time of the day when the sun is going down

That's the golden time of day

It's a time that the sun turns a gold all around

That's the golden time of day

At the end of the day when the wind is soft and warm

Don't it make the flowers sway

When the sun settles down and it takes a lovley form

That's the golden time of day

People let me tell you

There's a time in your life when you find who you are

That's the golden time of day

In you mind you will find your a bright shining star

Ooh that's the golden time of day

When you feel deep inside all the love your lookin for

Don't it make you feel ok

Like the time of the day when the sun is going down

That's the golden time of day

Shining can't you see it shining ooh ooh ooh ooh

"All Apologies" - Nirvana

2010-10-15T21:29:00.000-07:00

SONG: "All Apologies"

WRITTEN BY: Kurt Cobain

PERFORMED BY: Nirvana

APPEARS ON: In Utero (1993); MTV Unplugged in New York (1994)

I have often thought that Seattle, the city I grew up in and around, lacks real artistic identity. If every township and metropolis has soul then surely it is the duty of resident creative types to identify and expose what it is that makes a city hum. And certainly every world-class town must have at least one great artistic statement made in its honor. Yet Seattle boasts not a single classic film, nor one indisputably great novel. Sure, the houseboat from Sleepless in Seattle still drums up a few tourists every season, but is the tired remake of a movie that wasn’t that great to begin with something we want to be known for?

As far as the music scene goes, our northwestern-most corner of the Great Northwest has produced a couple of giants over the years. Bing Crosby hailed from Tacoma, Seattle’s southern cousin. And James Marshall Hendrix spent his formative years in Seattle’s offbeat Central District. But great as these native sons were their art was never particularly representative of Washingtonian roots. Hendrix belonged as much to London as to any part of his native country and at the height of Crosby’s fame Seattle was little more than a slimy backwater.

All in all, Washington State has only ever produced one artist whose body of work owes as much to the location of his birth as to his obvious brilliance. Kurt Donald Cobain, born in Aberdeen, WA in 1967, was the greatest of a musicians’ enclave who stubbornly refused to abandon Seattle in favor of traditional entertainment hubs like Los Angeles or New York City. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Sound Garden and their be-flanneled cohorts became synonymous with the Grunge movement, which, in spite of the genre’s near-extinction, remains an integral element of Seattle’s public image. Cobain and Nirvana, rounded out by Krist Novoselic (bass) and Dave Grohl (drums), rose to the top of the ranks in 1991 with Nevermind. Buoyed by the runaway success of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and subsequent singles Nirvana launched into sold-out world tours and met with near-universal critical acclaim. And 1993’s In Utero solidified the group’s claim to the rock crown. Nirvana’s potential was limitless. Then of course it all came to a sudden end in 1994. Cobain died at the age of 27 from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.

Nirvana’s place in musical history is assured, though some, the jaded and inattentive, say it was the fatal blast of Cobain’s shotgun that secured his enduring fame. Indeed, it is fashionable these days to say, “Nirvana wasn’t so great.” or “Cobain was overrated.” and it is especially trendy here in their hometown. Every Seattleite teenager goes through a period of open indifference to the group’s music. But in the end most come around and admit what they have known all along in their hearts – that Nirvana is one of the all time greats.

No. It is not the tragedy of Cobain’s demise, nor the faded hype of grunge music that keeps Nirvana fresh in our collective memories. It is the quality of the songs. Like his hero, John Lennon, Kurt Cobain was an angry young man with things to say and his love of the Fab Four is evident in the ingenious pop-craft of his work. Cobain took cues from Lennon’s darkly humorous kaleidoscope visions and his lyrics are cut from the same matter-of-fact confessional cloth. It is a style that lent itself well to the confusion and apathy of Generation X and its successors. Cobain himself came from a broken and abusive home – an evermore common situation in the Love Generation’s wake. His work spoke directly to the young disillusioned, to those left derelict by the deflated ideals of free love and the crass plundering of Reaganomics. His was a fresh voice rallying against postmodern severity and crying out for understanding, for genuine affection.

“All Apologies” stands as Kurt Cobain’s seminal work. The words, full of hurt and disappointment, speak for themselves. But, if I may lead this little piece full circle, I have one thing to say about them. Since I began college, and for first time met people en masse from outside my home state, I have been telling my friend’s that this song is the artistic statement of Seattle made in just under four minutes. I stand by that statement. One need only hear this song to feel what it is like living under the broad gray skies and to suffer their depressive fallout. Its author, who now belongs to the world and to history, is Seattle’s one great poet. Our bard. The embodiment of our ever-living spirit.

---

ALL APOLOGIES

-Kurt Cobain

What else should I be?

All apologies

What else could I say?

Everyone is gay

What else could I write?

I don’t have the right

What else should I be?

All apologies

In the sun,

In the sun I feel as one

In the sun,

In the sun

Married!

Buried!

I wish I was like you,

Easily amused

Find my nest of salt

Everything’s my fault

I’ll take all the blame

Aqua sea foam shame

Sunburn, freezer burn

Choking on the ashes of her enemy

In the sun,

In the sun I feel as one

In the sun,

In the sun

Married!

Burried!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

All in all is all we are

---

The epitaph of a genius:

The original:

The Temptations : Ball Of Confusion

2010-09-09T09:25:00.000-07:00

SONG Ball of Confusion

WRITTEN BY Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong

PERFORMED BY The Temptations

APPEARS ON Released as a single in 1970 and appears on Greatest Hits Volume 2 (1970)

"Segregation, determination, demonstration, Integration, aggravation, Humiliation, obligation to our nation
Ball of Confusion That's what the world is today"

It’s been awhile since I have done a post for this site. I want to thank K for not kicking me off and I promise to do better in the future.

America is a pretty confusing place right now. It’s 2010 and we have all kinds of issues. The worst part about it is that the real issues seem to be taking a back seat to all the emotional things that district everybody. We are having racial debates and discussions about religious freedom. Saturday a pastor is supposed to burn a holy book from another religion and we just so happen to have thousands of troops in countries that practice the religion in question. There are talk show hosts telling Americans that they are losing their freedom more and more every day although I haven’t seen anyone doing anything differently than they were before. They shout mean things about the president at the top of their lungs. He doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge it all that much but he adjusts his policies to validate the stuff that they say.

Meanwhile, the economy is a mess and no one appears to have any idea what they are doing or wants to pay the price for doing what’s necessary. Nowadays I find myself watching the news with a puzzled look on my face. I keep trying to figure out if what I am seeing is just a product of growing pains from a nation that elected a man of color as its leader for the first time. I’m sure that’s some of it but we elected him so we should be more advanced to the point where it wouldn’t be okay to let that keep the entire country’s progress in limbo. Everyone has a take on it but I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.

Ball of Confusion was released in 1970 by the Temptations for the Gordy- Motown label. It was written by Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong. It was released as a single and appeared on the Temptations Greatest Hits Volume 2. That shows you how music has changed that in 1970 the Temptations were on their second volume of greatest hits already. This song was from the Dennis Edwards era of the group after David Ruffin left. This was the period when they were touching on social issues. This era was proof you could be conscious and make good music that sells. I think a lot of that is missing in today’s rhythm and blues music as well as the audience. Besides the fact that I love the group, I think 80% of the lyrics to this song symbolize what we are going through 40 years after it was written. There’s a line in the song that says “Politicians think taxes will solve everything”. You couldn’t get more than a handful of politicians to admit that this year. I am not sure if we should look at this song as being so well written that it has been able to stand the test of time or we should be more depressed that we live in an environment today that still makes this song so relevant. We might have a long way to go but at least we have good music to listen to while we sort everything out. I added an a capella clip just to show that real singers don’t need studio tricks to sound good.

Lyrics

People movin' out
People movin' in
Why, because of the color of their skin
Run, run, run, but you sho' can't hide
An eye for an eye
A tooth for a tooth
Vote for me, and I'll set you free
Rap on brother, rap on
Well, the only person talkin'
'Bout love thy brother is the preacher
And it seems,
Nobody is interested in learnin'
But the teacher
Segregation, determination, demonstration,
Integration, aggravation,
Humiliation, obligation to our nation
Ball of Confusion
That's what the world is today

The sale of pills are at an all time high
Young folks walk around with
Their heads in the sky
Cities aflame in the summer time
And, the beat goes on

Air pollution, revolution, gun control,
Sound of soul
Shootin' rockets to the moon
Kids growin' up too soon
Politicians say more taxes will
Solve everything
And the band played on
So round 'n' round 'n' round we go
Where the world's headed, nobody knows
Just a Ball of Confusion
Oh yea, that's what the world is today

Fear in the air, tension everywhere
Unemployment rising fast,
The Beatles' new record's a gas
And the only safe place to live is
On an indian reservation
And the band played on
Eve of destruction, tax deduction
City inspectors, bill collectors
Mod clothes in demand,
Population out of hand
Suicide, too many bills, hippies movin'
To the hills
People all over the world, are shoutin'
End the war
And the band played on

"Million Dollar Bash" - Bob Dylan and The Band

2010-08-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

SONG: "Million Dollar Bash"

WRITTEN BY: Bob Dylan

PERFORMED BY: Bob Dylan and the Band

APPEARS ON: "The Basement Tapes" (1975)

In 1966, 25 year-old Bob Dylan crashed his red and silver Triumph Tiger 100 motorcycle outside of Woodstock, New York. His injuries were miraculously benign, but there was a marked change in the young singer-songwriter from that point forward. “When I had that motorcycle accident,” he recalls, “I woke up and caught my senses. I realized that I was just working for these leeches and I didn’t want to do that. Plus, I had a family and I just wanted to see my kids.” Dylan entered a period of seclusion that lasted for nearly seven years. During that time he continued to write and record some of his very best work. The material that formed “The Basement Tapes” came from this period.

“Million Dollar Bash” was first recorded in 1967 in the basement of a house in West Saugerties, New York. The house was, of course, the famous “Big Pink,” then occupied by Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel and Robbie Robertson. As Robertson explains, “The Basement Tapes” started out as Dylan and The Band “just killing time”, but soon flourished into a creative outpouring of new material and inspired covers. The album was cobbled from these friendly jam sessions and officially released to the public on June 26, 1975. On “The Basement Tapes” Dylan sounds more playful and joyous then perhaps on any entry of his catalogue. It is an historical irony that this double LP ode to life’s simple pleasures came out just five months after his bleak divorce drama, “Blood on the Tracks”.

“Million Dollar Bash” stood out to me the very first time I heard “The Basement Tapes”. It seems like the spiritual summation of the entire affable affair. Dylan’s lyrics are as light-hearted as the tune is lovely. He sings as though he feels free for the first time in ages to revel in absurdity and humor just for the fun of it, as is only fitting for a song about the biggest party imaginable. But I see another side to the song that explains its curious and elusive poignancy. Over the course of two minutes and thirty-three seconds Dylan refers to no fewer than seven characters and two or three vaguely defined groups. He makes it clear that this isn’t just a big party it’s the biggest party to which “everybody from right now” is going. Near as I can tell, “Million Dollar Bash” is a little ditty about dying and heading off for a big party in the sky. It’s a song about resigning one’s self to fate, but enjoying the ride as you go and that’s what makes it so uplifting.

I suppose my theory is tenuous at best, but as such it reflects the key to Dylan’s staying power and that is his music’s tolerance for reinterpretation. Like many of his finest works, “Million Dollar Bash” stands as a blank slate for the listener’s imagination. The raw ingredients of a deeper meaning are temptingly displayed daring you to make something of them.

---

MILLION DOLLAR BASH

-Bob Dylan

Well, that big dumb blonde

with her wheel in the gorge

and turtle that friend of theirs

with his checks all forged,

and his cheeks in a chunk

with his cheese in the cash

they're all gonna be there

at that million dollar bash

Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,

It's that million dollar bash

Everybody from right now

to over there and back

the louder they come

the bigger they crack

come on now, sweet cream

don't forget to flash

we're all gonna meet

at that million dollar bash

Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,

It's that million dollar bash

Well, I took my counselor

out to the barn

Silly Nelly was there

she told him a yarn

then along came jones

emptied the trash

Everybody went down

to that million dollar bash

Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,

It's that million dollar bash

Well, I'm hitting it too hard

my stones won't take

I get up in the morning

but it's too early to wake

first it's hello, goodbye

then push and then crash

and we're all gonna make it

at that million dollar bash

Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,

It's that million dollar bash

Well, I looked at my watch

I looked at my wrist

I punched myself

in the face with my fist

I took my potatoes

down to be mashed

then I made it over

to that million dollar bash

Ooh, baby, ooh-ee,

It's that million dollar bash.

c. 1967

---

I could only find three covers of "Million Dollar Bash" on youtube and none of them satisfied, so I recorded my own version. In the original's absence, here is the best I can offer.

Let It Be - The Beatles

2010-08-19T13:09:00.000-07:00

SONG Let It Be

WRITTEN BY Paul McCartney

PERFORMED BY The Beatles, Carol Woods

APPEARS ON The Beatles Let It Be (1970), Across the Universe (movie, 2007)

I came across this old favorite in a new setting recently and thought I'd feature it here on Just A Song just to prove a point I've been making for years: that the songs of The Beatles are truly timeless and a gifted musician can create a brand new thing of beauty from them long after the original song hit the airwaves.

The original setting of the song takes place in the sad, bitter days of the Beatles falling apart, just after recording the White Album. McCartney says he sensed the break-up coming and was depressed by it all and having trouble sleeping. In his own words:

Then one night, somewhere between deep sleep and insomnia, I had the most comforting dream about my mother, who died when I was only 14. She had been a nurse, my mum, and very hardworking, because she wanted the best for us. We weren’t a well-off family- we didn’t have a car, we just about had a television – so both of my parents went out to work, and Mum contributed a good half to the family income. At night when she came home, she would cook, so we didn’t have a lot of time with each other. But she was just a very comforting presence in my life. And when she died, one of the difficulties I had, as the years went by, was that I couldn’t recall her face so easily. That’s how it is for everyone, I think. As each day goes by, you just can’t bring their face into your mind, you have to use photographs and reminders like that.

So in this dream twelve years later, my mother appeared, and there was her face, completely clear, particularly her eyes, and she said to me very gently, very reassuringly: “Let it be.”

It was lovely. I woke up with a great feeling. It was really like she had visited me at this very difficult point in my life and gave me this message: Be gentle, don’t fight things, just try and go with the flow and it will all work out.

So, being a musician, I went right over to the piano and started writing a song: “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me”… Mary was my mother’s name… “Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.” There will be an answer, let it be.” It didn’t take long. I wrote the main body of it in one go, and then the subsequent verses developed from there: “When all the broken-hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.”

And the rest is history. This went on to be one of the Beatles most popular songs, and in 2004 it was ranked #20 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest songs of all time. It's an emotional, heartfelt cry for release from pain and turmoil, and offers a comforting image of peace; no wonder it went right to the hearts of the listening public!

Lyrics

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,
there will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,
there will be an answer. let it be.

Let it be, let it be, .....

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, .....

Here's a video clip from the movie Let It Be, filmed in studio of the recording of the album:

A lot of musicians have recorded versions of this song, but there's only one that made me sit up and take notice. In 2007 filmmaker/artist Julie Taymor made the movie Across the Universe, taking 30 Beatles songs to make a musical about growing up in the turbulent late 1960s. "Let It Be" was used as the setting for two deaths and funerals, of a young soldier in Vietnam and a child killed in the 1968 Detroit riots. And if it were on stage it would have stopped the show! I don't know whose idea it was to set this song as a gospel tune, with full gospel choir and soloist, but whoever it was was a genius. It could have been one or both of the music producers on the crew - Matthias Gohl and Elliot Goldenthau - but I suspect it was Julie Taymor herself; this is just the kind of daring artistic decision she would make. The vocal begins with young Timothy T. Mitchum as the young boy killed in the Detroit riots, but switches to choir and Broadway/film actress and singer Carol Woods (who won a Grammy for this) in full gospel music mode for the funerals themselves. It cuts right to the heart - I don't know anybody who saw this movie who watched this with dry eyes. It's a brilliant interpretation and should stand side by side with the original Beatles version. Which, of course, is why I've included it here. Enjoy!

Steve Earle: N. Y. C.

2010-07-21T11:50:00.000-07:00

SONG N. Y. C.

WRITTEN BY Steve Earle

PERFORMED BY Steve Earle

APPEARS ON El Corazon (1997)

NOTE 1 The cover art is by the Chicago artist Tony Fitzpatrick. 2 That's Buddy Miller playing lead guitar in the video.

"N. Y. C." stands as one Steve Earle's top rockers and most requested songs. It tells the story of a middle-aged, somewhat disillusioned man who gives a ride to Billy, a young and hopeful hitchhiker who wants to try his luck in New York City. After all, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere, right? Billy relates his adventures to a rueful, half envious listener, and summarizes his impression of all that New York has to offer in these words:

I heard the girls are pretty
There must be something happening there
It's just too big a town

The dual allure of sex and boundless opportunity being what it is, Billy shouldered his guitar, put his thumb in the wind, set out uncomplainingly through "a thousand miles of sleet and snow and rain."

The older man is skeptical, but keeps it to himself. He tried New York once, but struck out in a week. The girls, who by now represent opportunity itself, "wouldn't talk to me." Thus, Earle establishes a tension between youthful exuberance and optimism v. experience and disillusion. Look, the older man reasons to himself, at what Billy will go through just to take a shot at making it in the Big Apple. Coldness, dampness, and hunger are nothing in comparison; and very possibly disillusion is a fair price to pay for the paradoxical experience of youth.

So, the driver "slips the kid a twenty" because maybe -- just maybe -- Billy will be one who makes it, and the twenty will play apart. And no matter what, Billy is twenty dollars further down a meaningful road already filled with "a hundred stories."

LYRICS
He was standing on the highway
Somewhere way out in the sticks
Guitar across his shoulder
Like a thirty ought six
He was staring in my headlights
When I came around the bend
Climbed up on my shotgun side
And told me with a grim

I'm going to New York City
I've never really been there
Just like the way it sounds
I heard the girls are pretty
There must be something happening there
It's just too big a town

He was cold and wet and hungry
But he never did complain
Said he'd come a thousand miles
Through sleet and snow and rain
He had a hundred stories
About the places that he'd been
He'd hang around a little while
And hit the road again

I'm going to New York City
I've never really been there
Just like the way it sounds
I heard the girls are pretty
There must be something happening there
It's just too big a town

See I've been to New York City
Just like it was yesterday
Standing like a pilgrim
On the Great White Way
The girls were really pretty
But they wouldn't talk to me
I held out about a week
Went back to Tennessee

So I thought I'd better warn him
As he climbed out of my car
Grabbed his battered suitcase
And shouldered his guitar
I knew I was just jealous
If I didn't wish him well
I slipped the kid a twenty
Said "Billy give 'em hell"

I'm going to New York City
I've never really been there
Just like the way it sounds
I heard the girls are pretty
There must be something happening there
It's just too big a town

The Marshall Tucker Band: 24 Hours At A Time

2010-07-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

SONG 24 Hours At A Time

WRITTEN BY Toy Caldwell

PERFORMED BY The Marshall Tucker Band

APPEARS ON A New Life (1974); Where We All Belong (1974); Stompin' Room Only [live] (2003); Anthology: The First Thirty Years (2005)

NOTE The lyrics are from the original studio version of "24 Hours." MTB altered them somewhat in performance.

The Marshall Tucker Band sang about men and women, not boys and girls. This conferred a sense of maturity and sexual awareness onto their college-aged fans, a sensibility that may or may not have been merited, but that was nonetheless appreciated, by a group that saw itself on the back end of coming of age. The band offered an arguably a maturing sound as well: Toy Caldwell's heroics met the needs of any dorm room air guitarist, while a subtle blend of rock, country, and jazz appealed to developing tastes in a way that, say, Lynyrd Skynyrd's testosterone drenched thunder could not. (Which isn't to say that Skynyrd was not a great band: In the southern rock pantheon, they're second only to the Allman Brothers.)

In "24 Hours at a Time," the singer drives headlong toward a relationship, as fast as legally permitted ("I've got this ride doin' 70 miles an hour"). The national speed limit was 70 mph when Toy Caldwell wrote "24 Hours," although there may be a nod to the pending change to 55 mph, which would slow his approach to the woman who is "always on my mind/24 hours at a time."

In any case, "24 Hours" attempts to balance out songs like "Gentle On Mind," in which the male singer expresses appreciation for a woman precisely she'll always be there no matter how much he strays and rambles. In "24 Hours," by contrast, the road is an inconvenience, something to disposed of as quickly as possible no matter how far the singer has come ("I've been drivin' about six hours") or how near the destination ("Texarkana's an hour ahead/And I've got to keep my wheels rollin'"). He's heading toward, he hopes, someone who loves him, and the romance of the road is a barrier.

For in the end, the singer drives toward hope ("I'm hopin' you feel the same way"), and that's the emotion most educed by the extended jam between Caldwell, Jerry Eubanks (tenor sax), and Charlie Daniels (fiddle), an improvisation that restates the journey musically and the reasons behind it. The end of the jam leads not to a reprise of the driving chorus, as one might expect, but a repetition of the singer's desire that she "feel the same way." We want that, too.

LYRICS
I've been down around Houston, Texas
Where the sun shines most of the time
I've been drivin' about six hours
Tryin' to reach that Arkansas line

But Texarkana's an hour ahead
And I've got to keep my wheels rollin'

But woman you're always on my mind
24 hours at a time
So my woman I'm hopin' you feel the same way

Woman, you know that I miss you
'Til I can't miss you no more
I've got this ride doin 70 miles an hour
She's loaded, she's down to the floor

But I've got to reach that Arkansas line
Before the sun goes down

But woman you're always on my mind
24 hours at a time
So my woman I'm hopin' you feel the same way

Woman you know I need you
I've been on the road too much
Tired of lookin' at the highway
Got to keep in touch some way

I've been down around Houston, Texas
Where the sun shines most of the time
I've been drivin' about six hours
Tryin' to reach that Arkansas line

But Texarkana's an hour ahead
And I've got to keep my wheels rollin'

But woman you're always on my mind
24 hours at a time
So my woman I'm hopin' you feel the same way

Feel the same way...
Feel the same way...
Feel the same way...

The studio version, from the album A New Life:

Dolly Parton: Jolene

2010-07-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

SONG Jolene

WRITTEN BY Dolly Parton

PERFORMED BY Dolly Parton

APPEARS ON Jolene (1973); The Essential Dolly Parton (2005); The Ultimate Dolly Parton; many others.

NOTE 1 "Jolene" is an essential Dolly Parton song. Any anthology without it is by definition incomplete. 2 The White Stripes' epic performance of "Jolene" appears on their album Under Great White Northern Lights.

Alarmed by the attention paid by her husband to a sexy bank teller and charmed by the name of a fan, Dolly Parton combined the two and wrote a classic country ballad of sexual envy and despair. Though lyrically simple on the surface, "Jolene" evokes a swirl of competing emotions that, though addressed exclusively to the eponymous temptress, raises question after question about the nature of the singer's devotion to her husband and indeed about her own state of mind.

Parton gets down to brass tacks immediately, invoking her rival's name repeatedly before casting off any pretense of pride to beg for mercy. She commingles flattery and abject submission, lauding Jolene's many physical attributes before admitting that "I cannot compete with you" and that Jolene could "easily take my man." Parton admits that her man dreams of Jolene and not her ("He talks about you in his sleep") and then comes out and says it: "My happiness depends on you." One wonders whether Parton takes a terrible risk by being so brutally frank: Might she not be tempting Jolene to aim her erotic power at Parton's man?

In any case, Parton lets us into the soul of a troubled and lost woman whose happiness depends on Jolene, on her man -- on anyone but herself. She has so lost control of her own life that she's willing to humiliate herself before a younger woman for the sake of a man who may be preoccupied with that woman. Indeed, that's all we really know about the husband, save that for some reason Parton believes "he's the only one for me."

Indeed, in many ways, "Jolene" is as interesting for what Parton leaves unsaid as for what she reveals. She absolves her husband of any complicity in the triangle, presumably because he could not possibly resist Jolene's siren song. Is it because men are that weak? Or has he strayed before, but Parton fears that this time he won't return? Why does Parton believe that Jolene's allure will overwhelm the substance of a relationship? Possibly, the relationship has faded or become loveless and routine, but she doesn't want to leave something that has its own comforts and because she fears that, whoever she is with, there will always be another Jolene.

Although she sings that "you don't know what he means to me," she never explains what just what he does mean to her. She's inviting us to fill in the blank with out our own experience, but it may also be that she can't recognize her own jealousy and possessiveness. We don't know what she means to him, either, although he comes across as aloof and easily led astray. Why would an emotionally healthy woman need such a man in her life?

In the end, the singer emerges as a troubled person whose life has become absorbed into that of her husband's, fears losing it and him, and can do nothing but beg mercy of the force seemingly bent on destroying her. In this regard, "Jolene" serves as a cautionary tale reminding us "to thine own self be true," because when push comes to shove, you don't want to jump only to find that Jolene holds the net.

LYRICS

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your voice is like soft summer rain,

And I cannot compete with you Jolene

He talks about you in his sleep

There's nothing I can do to keep

From crying when I hear your name, Jolene

And I can easily understand

How you could easily take my man

But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men

But I could never love again

He's the only one for me, Jolene

I had to have this talk with you

My happiness depends on you

And whatever you decide to do, Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

Jolene, Jolene

The White Stripes bring post-millenial angst to Parton's lyrics; the enthusiastic crowd demonstrates the crossover appeal of Parton's lyrics and the universality of her theme:

Andrew Combs: Tennessee Time

2010-06-29T19:48:00.000-07:00

SONG Tennessee Time

WRITTEN BY Andrew Combs

PERFORMED BY Andrew Combs

APPEARS ON Tennessee Time (2010)

Exile and longing comprise one of country music's most enduring themes. While its Biblical roots resonate with the rural Christianity that formed country's original fan base, its popularity as a theme likely stems from the origins of radio and the diaspora of rural Americans that began with the Industrial Revolution and accelerated through the Great Depression and World War II. The Dust Bowl, the military draft, and the migration to high paying urban manufacturing jobs must have created a profound sense of dislocation for the young men and families suddenly far removed from everything they knew. Songs celebrating the simple, lost joys of rural life emerged, and, dispersed across radio waves, soon formed a vital part of the country music canon.

Newcomer Andrew Combs captures this sense of longing and belonging in "Tennessee Time," a sensation amplified in the wonderful video below. The first time I heard "Tennessee Time," I immediately thought that it would make a great front porch song. The notion wasn't original; as it turned out, Combs thought so, too (see the wonderfully sweet video below). In "Tennessee Time" the singer has returned home from a European tour that took him from Spain to Ireland, only to discover that "there ain’t nothing better/Than the Tennessee life."

Which is fine with him: The song is all about creating epiphanies that allow him to be "stuck in the moment of Tennessee time." Thus in the first verse, he gathers southern icons like sweet tea and a rocking chair, and repairs to the porch to sing "old country songs to the passerby." It's a moment where fast songs and sad lyrics make sense in the ineffable ambience of a Tennessee porch, and where a spiritual connection occurs in the "summers near the Cumberland Gap...stuck in a moment of Tennessee time."

Combs, who sounds like a fusion of Slaid Cleaves and Gram Parsons, names Guy Clark, Willie Nelson, Townes Van Zandt, and Hank Williams as influences. Estimable mentors all, but the trick lies in finding his own voice via the path they lay. He's off to an impressive start.

LYRICS
I bought myself a little old rocking chair
Got a cup of sweet tea, gonna sit right here
Singing old country songs to the passerby
Just stuck in the moment of Tennessee time

Spring brings green and a love so sweet
My heart tends to flutter and skip a beat
Me and my baby, we’re out of our minds
Stuck in the moment of Tennessee time

Chorus
I’ve been known to roam
I’ve been to Spain
I’ve been out in the Galway rain
I’ve come so close
To what I thought was right
But there ain’t nothing better
Than the Tennessee life

I play a little guitar in a rock n’ roll band
We sing sad songs and play as fast as we can
The drums are loud and the words don’t rhyme
But we’re keeping good rhythm to the Tennessee time

Now I spend my summers near the Cumberland Gap
I sleep outside, with the grass at my back
Just roll cigarettes, drink whiskey from rye
Still stuck in the moment of Tennessee Time

John Prine: Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone

2010-06-24T23:21:00.000-07:00

SONG Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone

WRITTEN BY John Prine

PERFORMED BY John Prine

APPEARS ON Bruised Orange (1978); Live (1988); Great Days: The John Prine Anthology (1993)

By the time John Prine wrote "Sabu" in 1978, he must have feared that, regardless of the quality of his future work, his eponymous first album would define his reputation. Prine needn't have worried. Although fans still want to hear him sing "Angel From Montgomery," they go to his concerts to see him perform for a body of work that spans a distinguished 40-year career. Early on, though, Prine found parallels between his own experience and that of an Indian child movie star.

In 1937, while shooting on location in India, famed documentary film maker Robert Flaherty cast a 13-year old boy named Sabu Dastigir (or Selar Shaik Sabu or Sabu Francis) into a film called Elephant Boy. His name shortened to Sabu, the boy went on to a modest film career highlighted by starring roles in The Thief of Baghdad (1940) and Jungle Book (1942). After becoming an American citizen in 1944, Sabu joined the Air Force and won a Distinguished Flying Cross for service as a tail gunner in the Pacific theater. After World War II, Sabu attempted to restart his film career, but met with only modest success. His last film, the Disney thriller A Tiger Walks, was released shortly after his death from a heart attack in 1963. Sabu made 22 movies between 1937 and 1964, including such forgettable titles as White Savage, Cobra Woman, Man-Eater of Kumaon, Savage Drums, and Jungle Hell.

In "Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone," John Prine reimagines the post-war days of Sabu's career as a parable of the the pitfalls of peaking too soon and hanging on too long. By dropping his Indian protagonist into St. Paul, Prine achieves a sense of dislocation that haunts the song. Faced with a dwindling audience and a disinterested producer, Sabu gamely makes his way through the midwest while a sympathetic manager hopes that the numbers on a phone will materialize into a better box office and contemplates the end of his client's career.

No matter: Sabu may be "sad, the whole tour stunk," but he "must tour or forever rest." No doubt this refers to Prine's own struggles as an up-and-coming musician and the eternal challenge of keeping an audience. Did Prine fear that his best work was already behind him, that he had a future filled with cobra women, man-eaters, and albums that weren't "really doing so hot"? Had his ambition driven him to a lonely, peripatetic life infuseed by a numbing indifference (the "wind chill factor")? Possibly. But with characteristic bravado, Prine can't resist a few wry, bitter jokes at his own expense:

the airlines lost the elephant's trunk
the roadie got the rabies and the scabies and the flu

Sometimes, the only thing to do is laugh, hope for the best, and press on.

LYRICS
The movie wasn't really doing so hot
said the new producer to the old big shot
its dying on the edge of the great Midwest
Sabu must tour or forever rest.

Hey look ma
here comes the elephant boy
bundled all up in his corduroy
headed down south towards Illinois
from the jungles of East St. Paul.

His manager sat in the office alone
staring at the numbers on the telephone
wondering how a man could send a child actor
to visit in the land of the wind chill factor.
Sabu was sad the whole tour stunk
the airlines lost the elephant's trunk
the roadie got the rabies and the scabies and the flu
they was low on morale but they was high on.

"Angel From Montgomery," Prine's most beloved song, has been covered by Bonnie Raitt, Susan Tedeschi, and others:

The Flaming Lips: "Waitin' For a Superman"

2010-06-15T13:20:00.000-07:00

Song: "Waitin' For a Superman"

Written by: Wayne Coyne

Performed by: The Flaming Lips

Appears on: "The Soft Bulletin" (1999)

It was six years since their commercial breakthrough, "She Don't Use Jelly", off of "Transmissions From the Satellite Heart" (1993), and The Flaming Lips were on the ropes. In 1996, lead guitarist Ronald Jones departed the band, citing the onset of severe agoraphobia; in truth Jones left because of then-drummer Steven Drozd's rapidly escalating heroin addiction. Following Jones' departure, Drozd took over as lead guitarist in-studio, but nearly lost his arm to what he said was an infected spider bite that turned out to be an abscessed hypodermic puncture. Shortly thereafter, bassist Michael Ivins was almost killed when the wheel of another car flew off and struck his windshield, causing a high-speed crash. Ivins was trapped in his car for several hours while he waited for help to arrive. To top it all off, lead singer and primary songwriter Wayne Coyne's father died after a long battle with cancer, plunging Coyne into a deep depression. In the midst of successive tragedies The Flaming Lips entered middle age. They'd been on the road for sixteen years with only one hit single and little or no money to show for it. Fans and critics alike predicted the band would crumble under their terrible burden.

But then in 1999, a breakthrough. "The Soft Bulletin" came out in June of that year to universal critical acclaim. This album marks the genesis of The Flaming Lips' mature sound. They abandoned the abrasive acid-punk of their earlier records in favor of melodic space-pop. The entire group, and Coyne in particular, spent long hours in the studio producing layer upon layer of instrumental tracks, synthetic strings, booming percussion and triumphant vocals, the end result being what some have called the "Pet Sounds" of the nineteen-ninties. Conye's lyrics won high praise for their newfound philosophical depth and sincerity. His heartfelt ruminations on the disappointments of middle age, the inevitability of death and hope for the future were to become hallmarks of the fresh Flaming Lips sound.

"Waitin' For a Superman" is arguably the prime example of Coyne's present-day lyrical focus. Backed by a spar piano line and cymbal-laden drum beat, Coyne sings in his typically off-kilter Young-esque style about fears of inadequacy and the paralysis that such fears might breed. The song's central symbol is the absence of a real world Superman there to shoulder the burdens of daily life and right wrongs beyond human control. The piece is all at once sorrowful and optimistic. On one hand, the narrator admits there is no visible safety net to guard against man's fall, yet suggests simultaneously that we all, those waiting for Superman, might find strength and resilience in one another's arms, that salvation may live in love and understanding. It is this faith in the human spirit that continues to define Coyne as a lyricist and the Lips as a band.

"Waitin' For a Superman"

Asked you a question,

I didn't need you to reply,

Is it getting heavy?

But they'll realize,

Is it getting heavy?

Well, I thought it was

already as heavy

as can be,

Is it overwhelming

to use a crane to crush a fly?

It's a good time for Superman

to lift the sun into the sky,

'Cause it's getting heavy,

Well, I thought it was

already as heavy

as can be,

Tell everybody

waiting for Superman

that they should try to

hold on the best they can,

He hasn't dropped them,

forgot them,

or anything,

It's just too heavy

for Superman to lift,

(Instrumental)

Is it getting heavy?

Well, I thought it was

already as heavy

as can be,

Tell everybody

waiting for Superman

that they should try to

hold on the best they can,

He hasn't dropped them,

forgot them,

or anything,

It's just too heavy

for Superman to lift

Jorma Kaukonen: Genesis

2010-06-11T08:31:00.000-07:00

SONG Genesis

WRITTEN BY Jorma Kaukonen

PERFORMED BY Jorma Kaukonen

APPEARS ON Quah (1974)

In 1965, Paul Kanter recruited his friend Jorma Kaukonen to play lead guitar for the Jefferson Airplane, a band Kanter was helping form. Kaukonen thought of himself as an acoustic blues purist and expressed reluctance to join the new group. He changed his mind after considering the technical possibilities offered by the electric guitar; Kaukonen adapted his finger-picking style to the music of psychedelia and became a defining part of the Airplane's unique sound. By 1972, the Airplane had split into cliques, and Kaukonen and bassist Jack Casady left the band in favor of Hot Tuna, a side project originally formed to play the music of the Reverend Gary Davis.

Kaukonen recorded his initial solo album in 1974, the well-received Quah. "Genesis," Quah's first track, remains his best song and is a staple of his live act. Exquisitely gentle (one can imagine it as one side of a conversation occurring in bed), "Genesis" tells of a man promising to overcome his vulnerabilities if the woman he loves will share a future with him. In the first verse, he implores her to remember the good things about them:

Time has come for us to pause
And think of living as it was

while admitting that it's not enough ("into the future we must cross"). He admits that a hard shell surrounds him ("...I'm hard than a wall/A marble shaft...), but claims that it is not as important as her love and beseeches her not to break up with him.

Next comes the wonderful, touching third verse in which he acknowledges that life with him won't be easy ("Skies of blue had turned to gray"), but will be honest and true ("I never looked away"). The man drives home the point by telling the truth of things: She'll always be with him, but they can't shut out life:

And though I'm feeling you inside
My life is rolling with the tide

They can make it better, though, by remaining staying together and remaining true to each other ("I'd like to see it be an open ride/Along with you"). He reminds her that time, which doesn't belong to them, passes rapidly, then argues the whatever they are going through now will make them stronger, and closes by restating her incredible importance to him:

And when we came out into view
And there I found myself with you
When breathing felt like something new, new

Is "Genesis" an apology? Partly. But mostly it seems like the testimony of a man about to lose someone he loves because he has been holding himself back. By repeatedly telling her how much she means to him and by recognizing the validity of her feelings, he hopes to give himself and them and second chance. The song concludes uncertainly, without an answer to his plea. But for us, that's for the best: It's never a bad thing to remember that our offers can be too little, too late. In this sense, "Genesis" is a cautionary account that we can all take to heart.

LYRICS
Time has come for us to pause
And think of living as it was
Into the future we must cross, must cross
I'd like to go with you
And I'd like to go with you

You say I'm harder than a wall
A marble shaft about to fall
I love you dearer than them all, them all
So let me stay with you
So let me stay with you

And as we walked into the day
Skies of blue had turned to grey
I might have not been clear to say, to say
I never looked away
I never looked away

And though I'm feeling you inside
My life is rolling with the tide
I'd like to see it be an open ride
Along with you
Going along with you

The time we borrowed from ourselves
Can't stay within a vaulted well
And living turns into a lender's will
So let me come with you
And let me come with you

And when we came out into view
And there I found myself with you
When breathing felt like something new, new
Along with you
Going along with you

Live circa 1990:

The original 1974 version (very cool montage):

From 2003, with Hot Tuna:

This 1969 Jefferson Airplance performance, from Woodstock, of "3/5's Of A Mile In Ten Seconds" shows off Kaukonen's prowess on the electric guitar and demonstrates his importance to their sound:

Widespread Panic covers "Genesis" (2002):

Kaukonen and Widespread Panic's John Bell:

Frank Zappa: "Muffin Man"

2010-06-07T06:00:00.000-07:00

Song: "Muffin Man"

Written by: Frank Zappa

Performed by: Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention

Appears on: "Bongo Fury" (1975); "Strictly Commercial: The Best of Frank Zappa" (1995); several other collections and live albums

In the Spring of 1975 Frank Zappa and his famed Mothers went on tour with long-time collaborator Captain Beefheart. The "mostly live" Bongo Fury came out in October of the same year. The album concludes with a bit of Zappa absurdity that would become a concert favorite in years to come.

Muffin Man consists of three separate segments, a studio-recorded preamble and a live chorus followed by an extended guitar solo. In it Zappa tells of the Muffin Man, more a muffin scientist than an ordinary muffin enthusiast, who takes a break from his important work at the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen to expound of the glories of his most beloved pastry. Of course Muffin Man's real greatness comes not from the amusing story, but from Zappa's transcendent guitar.

Zappa was a legendarily talented and prolific artist who willed himself to the outer limits of popular music. He is remembered for his humorous, crude and confrontational lyrics, dedication to the rights of free speech, and contempt for the musical mainstream, but is sometimes overlooked as a guitar player. With a devilish Gibson SG, he produced some of the most frantically explosive guitar work ever committed to vinyl. "Muffin Man" stands as the greatest testament to his virtuosity.

"Muffin Man"

Narrator: The Muffin Man is seated at the table in the laboratory of the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen. Reaching for an oversized chrome spoon, he gathers an intimate quantity of dried muffin remnants and, brushing his scapular aside, proceeds to dump these inside of his shirt.

He turns to us and speaks:

Muffin Man: "Some people like cupcakes better. I for one care less for them."

Narrator: Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully charged icing anointment utensil, he puts forth a quarter-ounce green rosette near the summit of a dense but radiant muffin of his own design.

Later he says:

Muffin Man: "Some people, some people like cupcakes exclusively, while myself I say there is naught, nor ought there be, nothing so exalted on the face of God's gray Earth as that prince of foods...the muffin!"

Girl, you thought he was a man,

but he was a muffin,

He hung around till you found

that he didn't know nothin',

Girl, you thought he was a man,

but he only was a muffin,

No cries is heard in the night

as a result of him stuffin'

(Solo)

Girl, you thought he was a man,

but he was a muffin,

No cries is heard in the night

as a result of him stuffin'

Robert Mitchum: Ballad of Thunder Road

2010-06-05T20:27:00.000-07:00

SONG Ballad of Thunder Road

WRITTEN BY Robert Mitchum, Don Raye

PERFORMED BY Robert Mitchum

APPEARS ON Calypso Is Like So (1957); That Man, Robert Mitchum, Sings (1967); many hot rod songs anthologies

NOTE 1 A poster of the film inspired Bruce Springsteen to write his great song "Thunder Road," which -- besides the title -- is unrelated to the movie. NOTE 2 Raquelle of the blog Out of the Past explains the movie's back story here.

He saw acting as more a profession than an art, and was invariably prepared for every scene he appeared in. Famously unparticular about his roles, Robert Mitchum once said, "I don't care what I play. I'll play Polish gays, women, midgets, anything.'' Jailed for six weeks in 1948 after an arrest for possession of marijuana, he told curious reporters that prison was "like Palm Springs, but without the riff-raff." He modestly ascribed his famed heavy-lidded eyes to chronic insomnia.

The man who romanced Jane Russell three times on screen remained married to his high school sweetheart for 57 years. A repellent villain in Night of the Hunter and Cape Fear, Mitchum played a mild schoolmaster in Ryan's Daughter and a hapless small-time hood in The Friends of Eddie Coyle. The leading man for David Lean and Fred Zinneman also starred in cult classics like His Kind of Woman, Pursued, and Thunder Road, which he produced and co-wrote, not to mention writing and singing the film's theme song, "Ballad of Thunder Road."

The song recaps the narrative of the film, which is the story of a Korean War veteran who makes daring deliveries of moonshine in a souped up '51 Ford. As pressure from revenooers and a rival bootlegger mounts, Mitchum attempts to steer his younger brother clear of the family business while romancing night club singer Keely Smith (who graces the film with a couple of songs; check out the husky voiced chanteuse here). After deciding to lay low for a time, Mitchum finds himself forced to make one last run. With revenooers in hot pursuit, he blasts through a road block and, well, "he left the road at ninety, that's all there is to say..."

"The Ballad of Thunder Road" tells its story without nuance, establishing the small-time stakes of bootlegging by contrasting the hamlets and roads of a hillbilly locale with the exotic big cities of Memphis and Knoxville. Pursued by the law and the lure of death ("the devil got him first"), the "mountain boy" is pressured by his father to make a final run (although the father covers his bets by telling his son to be careful). Despite taking dangerous back roads and shooting gaps at high speed, though, the desperate mountain boy finally cannot outrun the forces of law, family, and the supernatural -- another rebel destroyed by convention.

LYRICS
Now let me tell the story, I can tell it all
About the mountain boy who ran illegal alcohol
His daddy made the whiskey, son, he drove the load
When his engine roared,
They called the highway thunder road.
Sometimes into Ashville, sometimes Memphis town
The revenoors chased him but they couldn't run him down
Each time they thought they had him,
His engine would explode
He'd go by like they were standin' still on Thunder Road.

And there was thunder, thunder over Thunder Road
Thunder was his engine, and white lightning was his load
There was moonshine, moonshine to quench the devil's thirst
The law they swore they'd get him, but the devil got him first.

On the first of April, Nineteen Fifty-Four
A federal man sent word he'd better make his run no more
He said two hundred agents were coverin' the state
Whichever road he tried to take, they'd get him sure as fate.
Son, his daddy told him, make this run your last
Your tank is filled with hundred-proof,
You're all tuned up and gassed
Now, don't take any chances, if you can't get through
I'd rather have you back again than all that mountain dew

Roarin' out of Harlan, revving' up his mill
He shot the gap at Cumberland,
And screamed by Maynordsville
With G-men on his taillights, roadblocks up ahead
The mountain boy took roads that even angels feared to tread.
Blazing' right through Knoxville, out on Kingston Pike
Then right outside of Beardon, there they made the fatal strike
He left the road at ninety, that's all there is to say
The devil got the moonshine and the mountain boy that day

Come On In My Kitchen

2010-05-28T07:30:00.000-07:00

SONG: Come On In My Kitchen

BY: Robert Johnson

PERFORMED BY: Robert Johnson

APPEARS ON: Robert Johnson: The Complete Recordings [Sony]

What makes a “great artist?” Culturally, we place a high value on originality, & this concept plays a large role in our definition of artistic “greatness.” But is “originality” such a useful concept after all? It could be argued that much of our passion for the original is rooted in such mundane concerns as copyright & other intellectual property laws. For instance, without a piece of music being “original,” how can you secure intellectual property rights?

But in practice, “originality” is a part of a more complicated creative whole, & nowehere is this more clear than in the realm of folk music traditions, & particularly in that very fecund US folk tradition, the blues.

Robert Johnson is generally considered the most important blues figure from the pre-World War II period. He was a guitarist of preternatural skill, a vocalist with amazing range & expressiveness, & a composer of considerable ability. But his compositional ability has to be understood within the terms of his tradition—a musical tradition in which melodies, riffs & chord progressions were a common inheritance that were to be personalized. Thus, Johnson’s great “Hellhound on My Trail” is in a real sense a re-write of Skip James’ equally great “Devil Got My Woman”; “Believe I’ll Dust My Broom” re-sets a Leroy Carr melody; “Preching the Blues” is a magnificent re-working of Son House’s “Preaching Blues.”

An interesting example of how Johnson could re-shape existing material & make it completely his own is the song “Come On In My Kitchen.” If you take the time to listen to the three songs below, you can hear how “Come On In My Kitchen” springs from the Mississippi Sheiks’ 1930 hit, “Sitting on Top of the World”—which also begat Atalanta 12-string whiz Barbecue Bob’s 1930 "I'm On My Way Down Home." Johnson’s re-setting of the song is interesting musically because he takes what is a fairly standard 3-chord blues progression & reduces it to what is essentially a one-chord modal song—in a sense, he has taken the more popular blues sound of the Sheiks & made it new by making it old—the modal style tended to be more common in the work of earlier artists such as Charlie Patton & Son House in the days before the 12-bar chord progression that is so common to modern blues took over. In fact, it’s that modal nature, with the many “blue notes” (flatted thirds in particular, making the song drift eerily between major & minor) that give “Come On In My Kitchen” so much of its haunting quality.

There are a couple of lyric moments that should be noted. In the second verse, Johnson refers to his woman friend’s “nation sack.” According to the Lucky Mojo website:

In fact, a nation sack is a mojo hand, conjure bag, toby, or root bag—one that is only carried by women—and it is worn hanging from a belt at the waist, not around the neck. Furthermore, during the 1930s its use, by that name at least, seems to have been restricted to the region immediately around Memphis, Tennessee. Its basic use is in spells of female domination over men.

Johnson also uses the phrase “dry long so.” According to Harry’s Blues Lyrics Online, “the phrase ‘dry long so’ is a dialectic description of being poor. In the context of the Robert Johnson song it relates to not having enough food and clothing and other essential things to last through the winter.” Skip James also uses this phrase in his great song “Hard Times Killing Floor.”

But enough from me—please enjoy “Come On In My Kitchen,” a truly great song, as well as its interesting antecedents!

Come On In My Kitchen

Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors

Ah, the woman I love, took from my best friend,
some joker got lucky, stole her back again
You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors

Oh, she's gone, I know she won't come back
I've taken the last nickel out of her nation sack
You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors

(spoken: oh, can't you hear that wind howl?)
Oh, can't you hear that wind would howl?
You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors

When a woman gets in trouble, everybody throws her down
Lookin' for her good friend, none can be found
You better come on in my kitchen, it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors

Winter time's comin', it's gonna be slow
You can't make the winter, babe, that's dry long so
You better come on in my kitchen, 'cause it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors

Robert Johnson

Los Tigres del Norte: La Granja

2010-05-23T23:40:00.000-07:00

SONG La Granja (The Farm)

WRITTEN BY Teodoro Bello

PERFORMED BY Los Tigres del Norte

APPEARS ON La Granja (2009)

NOTE See David Ortez' blog The Revolution Will Not Be Televised for an excellent analysis of "La Granja" that includes a detailed explanation of the characters in the video. The English translation of the lyrics is also from Ortez' article.

The May 24 issue of The New Yorker includes an insightful article (abstract here) about the wildly popular Mexican norteno band, Los Tigres del Norteno. Los Tigres specialize in performing corridos, songs about life on either of the border that retell actual incidents. As many as 120,000 people witnessed a Los Tigres concert in Monterrey, Mexico, and their show in Houston's Astrodome drew more fans than the Beatles in Shea Stadium.

"La Granja" is a narcocorrido, meaning that its lyrics specifically deal with the issue of narcotics smuggling. Like all corridos, "La Granja" relies on symbolism and hidden meaning. The video below provides an animated accompaniment to the lyrics. As Wilkinson explains in his article, the farmer represents the worker whose efforts feed the wealthy, as represented by the Animal Farm-like pigs who reside in the protection indoors. The worker stays outside exposed to the elements and to the dangers of the narcotics cartel, represented by the snarling dog who breaks loose from his chains when offered a meal by the fox.

The fox is one of two allusions to Mexican political figures; it represents former president Vicente Fox. According to Wilkinson, the fox tries to steal the dog's dinner, but in the video they seem to be in cahoots. Another possible interpretation is that the efforts of a well-intentioned politician "who arrived to break plates" backfired. According to David Ortez at The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, the crashing hawk recreates the death of Juan Camilo Mouriño Terrazo, a politician who died in a mysterious small plane crash.

With the narcotics cartel at his back, the farmer flees to the border across a barren land of desert and bones, its plenty destroyed by the cartel, In the end, though, a border fence crashing into place foils his flight. Abandoned by all, the farmer turns to face the slavering beast with only a tiger (Los Tigres themselves) standing by him.

LYRICS (Spanish)
Si la perra esta amarrada
Aunque ladre todo el día
No la deben de soltar
Mi abuelito me decía
Que podrían arrepentirse
Los que no la conocían

Por el zorro lo supimos
Que llego a romper los platos
Y la cuerda de la perra
La mordió por un buen rato
Y yo creo que se soltó
Para armar un gran relajo

Los puerquitos le ayudaron
Se alimentan de la granja
Diario quieren más maíz
Y se pierden las ganancias
Y el granjero que trabaja
Ya no les tiene confianza

Se cayó un gavilán
Los pollitos comentaron
Que si se cayó solito
O los vientos lo tumbaron
Todos mis animalitos
Por el ruido se espantaron

El conejo esta muriendo
Dentro y fuera de la jaula
Y a diario hay mucho muerto
A lo largo de la granja
Porque ya no hay sembradíos
Como ayer con tanta alfalfa

En la orilla de la granja
Un gran cerco les pusieron
Para que sigan jalando
Y no se vaya el granjero
Porque la perra no muerde
Aunque el no este de acuerdo

Hoy tenemos día con día
Mucha inseguridad
Porque se soltó la perra
Todo lo vino a regar
Entre todos los granjeros
La tenemos que amarrar……

LYRICS (English)
If the dog is tied up
And it barks all day
You should not let it go
That is what my Grandfather would tell me
Those would regret it
That did not know her

We found out from the Fox
Who arrived to break plates
And the dog’s leash
The Fox bit for a good while
And I believe it has been freed
To create a big mess

The piggies helped out
They feed themselves from the farm
Daily they want more corn
And they lose the profits
And the farmer that works
Does not trust them anymore

A hawk has fallen
The chicks are asking
Did it fall by itself?
Or did the winds bring it down?
All my animal friends
Were frightened by the noise

The rabbit is dying
While inside and outside of the cage
And daily there are many dead
All over the Farm
Because there are no crops
Like there was yesterday with so much hay.

On the edge of the Farm
A big fence was built
So that they have to continue to work
And the farmer cannot leave
Because the dog is biting him
Even though he does not agree

Now we have day by day
More insecurity
Because the dog has been unleashed
And messed up everything
Amidst all the farmers
We have to tie her down.

"Nursery Rhyme of Innocence & Experience"

2010-05-14T05:00:00.000-07:00

SONG: Nursery Rhyme of Innocence and Experience

BY: words: Charles Causley; music: Natalie Merchant

PERFORMED BY: Natalie Merchant

APPEARS ON: Leave Your Sleep [Nonesuch]

When we think about the poetry written in the wake of World War I, we probably tend to think of the “major” modernists—Eliot & Pound, & their ilk. It’s a poetry that looks at large cultural upheavals & examines how those upheavals affect society at spirtiual & artistic levels.

But while this may be the best known poetry to come out of the “War to End All Wars,” it’s not the only poetry. The British poets Wilfrid Owen, Siegfried Sassoon & Robert Graves wrote strong & moving poems about life in the trenches. & a rather obscure British poiet named Charles Causley wrote a beautiful & timeless poem, like an old ballad in its haunting simplicity, called “Nursery Rhyme of Innocence and Experience.”

I must admit, until I’d heard Natalie Merchant’s new cd, Leave Your Sleep, I’d never heard of Causley, despite having a pretty fair poetic background. The fact that Ms Merchant’s new work—a collection of settings to 19th & 20th century poems (& especially children’s poems)—could bring Mr Causley to light is just one of her project’s many virtues. Another great virtue is the beautiful music she has written as settings for the 26 poems.

In this post, I’d like to concentrate just on Merchant & Causley’s “collaboration”—I’ve reviewed Leave Your Sleep as a whole over on Robert Frost’s Banjo. However, it is worth noting that Merchant chose this poem-song to lead off her 2-cd collection of children’s poems, & as such it immediately directs us one of the album’s main themes, & perhaps its most artistically realized one, which is the loss of innocence. In the case of Causley’s poem, that loss of innocence come not just from the child’s encounter with the adult world in general, but with an adult world of war & violence &, at the very deepest level, unfulfilled promises.

Causley alerts us early on to what will develop from his fairy tale like setting—the sailor’s kiss is “strong as death”; the ship seems to sink as it passes from sight (it “dipped down/On the rim of the sky); it returns on a “steel morning.” As the ship reappears three summers later, we’ve moved from the fairy tale dream world of the silver penny & apricot tree & white quay to a ghost ship, emergiong from the sun with gulls flying thru it wrecked hulk. The red-haired sailor who’d promised the presents is gone—in his place is a stranger who brings the promised gifts—too late. The world has been changed—the “children’s toys” are a lie, an affront in this new nightmarish reality.

Merchant’s setting of this poem is haunting, & her rich voice conveys deep & precise emotion. The setting on the album is beautifully orchestral—Merchant & Sean O’Loughlin collaborated on an arrangment that includes the Celtic group Lúnasa along with a full string section: 8 violins, 2 violas, 2 cellos & a string bass. The music simultaneously reinforces the otherworld, fairy tale quality & the ultimate harshness of the real circumstances—& nothing conveys the latter better than Merchant’s voice. The pared down live version on display in the video below is also very effective.

This is a beautifully succesful musical setting of a haunting & powerful poem. Hope you enjoy it.

Nursery Rhyme of Innocence and Experience

I had a silver penny
And an apricot tree
And I said to the sailor
On the white quay
‘Sailor O sailor
Will you bring me
If I give you my penny
And my apricot tree
‘A fez from Algeria
An Arab drum to beat
A little gilt sword
And a parakeet?’
And he smiled and he kissed me
As strong as death
And I saw his red tongue
And I felt his sweet breath
‘You may keep your penny
And your apricot tree
And I’ll bring your presents
Back from sea.’
O the ship dipped down
On the rim of the sky
And I waited while three
Long summers went by
Then one steel morning
On the white quay
I saw a grey ship
Come in from sea
Slowly she came
Across the bay
For her flashing rigging
Was shot away
All round her wake
The seabirds cried
And flew in and out
Of the hole in her side
Slowly she came
In the path of the sun
And I heard the sound
Of a distant gun
And a stranger came running
Up to me
From the deck of the ship
And he said, said he
‘O are you the boy
Who would wait on the quay
With the silver penny
And the apricot tree?
‘I’ve a plum-coloured fez
And a drum for thee
And a sword and a parakeet
From over the sea.’
‘O where is the sailor
With bold red hair?
And what is that volley
On the bright air?
‘O where are the other
Girls and boys?
And why have you brought me
Children’s toys?’

Neil Young: Thrasher

2010-05-10T14:09:00.000-07:00

SONG Thrasher

WRITTEN BY Neil Young

PERFORMED BY Neil Young

APPEARS ON Rust Never Sleeps (1979)

Two themes have emerged from Neil Young's career: The primacy of individualism and the value of change for its own sake. Few songwriters have expressed the necessity of going your own way as effectively as Young: His eccentric, defiant individualism marks his career and his success as much as any other trait. Even a Young song that doesn't deal directly with this theme comes from his unique, highly personal perspective.

Set in a surreal approximation of the American west and inspired by his tenure with Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young, "Thrasher" reflects the essential Neil Young theme of the dangers -- fear, really -- of calcification that comes from standing still and conforming. The song describes an arc beginning with an eagle ascending over a river of life and concluding with a vulture swooping down on the road to death.

A vision of gigantic thrashers inexorably mowing down all in from them haunts Young throughout:

When I saw those thrashers rolling by,
Looking more than two lanes wide
I was feelin' like my day had just begun

Although he knows that the thrashers will eventually come for him ("When the thashers come/I'll be stuck in the sun") as they must for us all, they're also a signal to live the life he has in the best way he can. For Neil Young, that always meant being himself; specifically, following his artistic muse wherever it led.

Three times, he returns to stifling canyons as places in which one loses ones way and from which one requires rescue:

I searched out my companions,
Who were lost in crystal canyons...

They were lost in rock formations...

I was watchin' my mama's T.V.,
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode...

The canyon walls of the mind, of business, of life, even of art hem one in: They stifle creativity and suppress the potential offered by change.

Young scatters the song with penetrating, metaphorical aphorisms like this one--

When the aimless blade of science
Slashed the pearly gates.

--a reminder that we live in times that more than ever require a belief in oneself, as that is becoming all that we have left to believe in.

In the song's portentous coda, Young admits that he, too, will go the way of the dinosaurs, but at least he'll know that when that time he'll have hoed his own row and no one else's: When "the time has come to give what's mine," he'll have something of his own to pass on. And he'll be "stuck in the sun" far from the immobilizing "crystal canyons" where success threatens creativity and self.

LYRICS
They were hiding behind hay bales,
They were planting in the full moon
They had given all they had for something new
But the light of day was on them,
They could see the thrashers coming
And the water shone like diamonds in the dew

And I was just getting up, hit the road before it's light
Trying to catch an hour on the sun
When I saw those thrashers rolling by,
Looking more than two lanes wide
I was feelin' like my day had just begun.

Where the eagle glides ascending
There's an ancient river bending
Down the timeless gorge of changes
Where sleeplessness awaits
I searched out my companions,
Who were lost in crystal canyons
When the aimless blade of science
Slashed the pearly gates.

It was then I knew I'd had enough,
Burned my credit card for fuel
Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand
With a one-way ticket to the land of truth
And my suitcase in my hand
How I lost my friends I still don't understand.

They had the best selection,
They were poisoned with protection
There was nothing that they needed,
Nothing left to find
They were lost in rock formations
Or became park bench mutations
On the sidewalks and in the stations
They were waiting, waiting.

So I got bored and left them there,
They were just deadweight to me
Better down the road without that load
Brings back the time when I was eight or nine
I was watchin' my mama's T.V.,
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode.

Where the vulture glides descending
On an asphalt highway bending
Thru libraries and museums, galaxies and stars
Down the windy halls of friendship
To the rose clipped by the bullwhip
The motel of lost companions
Waits with heated pool and bar.

But me I'm not stopping there,
Got my own row left to hoe
Just another line in the field of time
When the thrashers comes, I'll be stuck in the sun
Like the dinosaurs in shrines
But I'll know the time has come
To give what's mine.

Handle with Care - The Traveling Wilburys

2010-05-05T07:01:00.000-07:00

SONG Handle with Care

WRITTEN BY George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty

PERFORMED BY The Traveling Wilburys

APPEARS ON The Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1 (1988)

I love this song; it's a joy to listen to (and a joy to watch the video) because it's obvious that the musicians were having a blast performing it. It's also so celebratory: things have been bad in the past, but now it's all looking up, so let's celebrate. The pure joy of being together and having a great time is all over this piece.

This song was the birth of the Wilburys, and the story of its creation is as follows... George Harrison had just come out of a long stretch of depression and hiding away from the public. He'd been slowly emerging from the shadows in 1986 and '87, sitting in on other people's gigs and playing in some all-star charity gigs. As he was getting his mojo back, he thought of recording again, and Dave Edmunds suggested that Jeff Lynne was the ideal producer for the project. He was right; the two clicked, and the result was Harrison's 1987 album Cloud Nine, which was both a critical and a financial success, and brought Harrison back into the public eye in the best way possible.

In April 0f 1988 Harrison and Lynne were in Los Angeles to clean up some loose ends associated with Cloud Nine's success; Warner Brothers wanted to release "This Is Love" as a single, and they needed a b-side. At dinner with mutual friend Roy Orbison, the three thought it might be fun for them to rent some studio time and come up with a collaboration to use for the b-side tune. Someone suggested they use Bob Dylan's Malibu studio, and on the day of the recording session Harrison stopped by Tom Petty's house to borrow a guitar and ended up inviting Petty along for the ride. And the rest is history at its magical best.

Lyrics:

Been beat up and battered 'round
Been sent up, and I've been shot down
You're the best thing that I've ever found
Handle me with care

Reputations changeable
Situations tolerable
Baby, you're adorable
Handle me with care

(Chorus)
I'm so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Won't you show me that you really care

(Bridge)
Everybody's got somebody to lean on
Put your body next to mine, and dream on

I've been fobbed off, and I've been fooled
I've been robbed and ridiculed
In day care centers and night schools
Handle me with care

Been stuck in airports, terrorized
Sent to meetings, hypnotized
Overexposed, commercialized
Handle me with care

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

I've been uptight and made a mess
But I'll clean it up myself, I guess
Oh, the sweet smell of success
Handle me with care

The tune itself sounds very much like a Harrison/Lynne idea, with classic Orbison on the chorus, but everybody contributed to the lyrics, calling out more ways to be abused as they went along, and apparently cracking up as they did; reports of the session include tales of everybody falling on the floor laughing as the called-out suggestions got more and more ridiculous. But oddlt enough, the final version of the lyrics seem to mirror what George Harrison's life had been like up to then, including that last verse: "I've been uptight and made a mess/ But I'll clean it up myself, I guess/ Oh, the sweet smell of success..." The last two years had certainly been a time of cleaning up and regrouping for him, and Cloud Nine smelled very sweet indeed.

When Warner Brothers heard the final product they thought, quite rightly, that no way was this a b-side. The decision to go back into the studio and record a full album was an easy one, and the result was The Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1, recorded in May of 1988 and released in October. Unfortunately Roy Orbison passed away on December 6 of that year, so the full group would never assemble again. The remaining Wilburys recorded another album in 1990, but it just wasn't the same.

This video is the official Warner Brothers music video to promote the song. You get a pretty good idea of how much fun they had with this; the video is every bit as celebratory as the song. Enjoy!

Terraplane Blues

2010-04-30T06:40:00.000-07:00

SONG: Terraplane Blues

BY: Robert Johnson

PERFORMED BY: Robert Johnson, Rory Block, et al.

APPEARS ON: Robert Johnson: The Complete Recordings [Sony]; Rory Block: Gone Woman Blues [Rounder]

If you’re going to talk about the blues, & especially about the blues from the Mississippi Delta region—home to a great many remarkable musicians—you have to talk about Robert Johnson. This man lived a short life—he died at the age of 27—& actually was somewhat obscure in his own time, certainly not as well known in the Delta region as Charlie Patton & Son House. Since his death, however, & especially since the 1961 release of the King of the Delta Blues lp, he has grown enormously in stature & is generally considered as a seminal figure not only in the blues, but also in the development of rock & roll.

He recorded 29 songs during his lifetime, but not all were released & none were major hits, even within the Delta. In fact, the song we’re looking at today was his most commercially successful side, selling around 5,000 copies.

“Terraplane Blues” isn’t really a song about a car, tho it’s worth knowing that the Terraplane, a model made by the Hudson Car Company in the 1930s, is the auto referred to in the lyrics. The song is ultimately about infidelity & loss of desire. This specific metaphor didn’t originate with Johnson—one notable example of the car as sexual metaphor in the old time blues is Blind Boy Fuller’s “Worn Out Engine,” which is very different musically but shares some of the same images of sexual dysfunction. Johnson’s setting, however, is remarkable for the guitar virtuosity he displays over the top of a standard 12-bar blues progression. One characteristic of Delta blues is the driving, damped bass strummed or plucked on the lowest 3 strings of the guitar. Johnson was a master of this & “Terraplane Blues” is a great example.

Johnson also very frequently employed a slide with his playing, & “Terraplane Blues” includes some memorable slide riffs. Perhaps what’s most notable about the song in this regard, however, is the fact that the slide is used only for a few riffs within the song. More typically in the Delta blues, the slide will be the “response” to the singer’s “call,” & thus be used often within a song. To confine its use to a handful of riffs is somewhat unusual—for one thing, wearing a slide effectively removes one left hand finger from fretting & in that sense is a bit of a handicap.

Why was “Terraplane Blues” moderately successful while others of Johnson’s songs were not? There are, for instance, some notable musical similarities between “Terraplane Blues” & “Cross Road Blues,” tho the latter makes more use of the slide. Was it the lyrics or was it something about the driving beat & the riffs? It’s hard to say what set this song apart during the 1930s from his other great recordings, but it’s most certainly a great blues tune. “Terraplane Blues” has been covered a number of times by such noteworthy musicians as Peter Green, Canned Heat, Eric Clapton, Foghat & Roy Rogers (the bluesman, not the singing cowboy!) I’ve chosen to add a video of one of my one favorite blues players, Rory Block, who does a great job both with the vocal & the guitar.

Hope you enjoy the song.

Terraplane Blues

And I feel so lonesome, you hear me when I moan
When I feel so lonesome, you hear me when I moan
Who been drivin' my Terraplane for you since I been gone.

I'd said I flash your lights, mama, you horn won't even blow
(spoken: Somebody's been runnin' my batteries down on this machine)
I even flash my lights, mama, this horn won't even blow
Got a short in this connection, hoo well, babe, it's way down below

I'm goin' hoist your hood, mama, I'm bound to check your oil
I'm goin' hoist your hood, mama, mmm, I'm bound to check your oil
I got a woman that I'm lovin' way down in Arkansas

Now, you know the coils ain't even buzzin', little generator won't get the spark
Motor's in a bad condition, you gotta have these batteries charged
But I'm cryin', please, please don't do me wrong.
Who been drivin' my Terraplane now for you since I been gone.

Mr. highway man, please don't block the road
Please don't block the road
'Cause she's reachin' a cold one hundred and I'm booked and I got to go

Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Yoo ooo ooo ooo, you hear me weep and moan
Who been drivin' my Terraplane now for you since I been gone

I'm goin' get down in this connection, keep on tanglin' with your wires
I'm goin' get down in this connection, oh well, keep on tanglin' with these wires
And when I mash down on your little starter, then your spark plug will give me fire

Robert Johnson

Martha and the Vandellas: Dancing in the Street

2010-04-25T00:04:00.000-07:00

SONG Dancing in the Street

WRITTEN BY Brian Holland, Lamont Dozier, Edward Holland, Jr.

PERFORMED BY Martha and the Vandellas

APPEARS ON Dance Party/Watchout (original releases 1965/66; rerelease 2002); The Ultimate Collection (1998); many others.

NOTE "Dancing in the Street" is not only an essential Martha and the Vandella song, it is an essential part of 60s soul. No Vandellas anthology or collection of 60s soul is complete without it.

In the early 60s, a happy cultural confluence of the efforts of Elvis Presley, the Civil Rights movement, and iron-fisted but savvy recording executive named Berry Gordy inadvertently combined to change the nature of popular music. Back then, the surest and most effective way for a large audience to hear an act was to hear it on AM radio. For most of the 50s, mainstream white exposure to black acts came via the filter of Pat Boone and his ilk, who released desexualized versions of R&B hits that reduced their joy and meaning to the sentiments of a Hallmark card.

In 1960, songwriter-producer Gordy formed Motown, a recording juggernaut that released a dozen #1 singles between 1964-1966 and that for 20 years would be synonymous with the idea of a hit record. Although Martha and the Vandella's "Dancing in the Street" peaked at #2, it has nevertheless become one of the label's most beloved songs, as linked to Motown as anything by Smokey Robinson or even the Supremes. It will be remembered and played long after other Motown #1's like "The Happening" and "Love Hangover" are forgotten.

"Dancing in the Street" opens with a challenge to the entire world to prepare itself for a new beat: The new, urban black sound of the 60s, a sound not heard around the world until now. Next comes the beginning a litany of African-American centers, a litany that will progress throughout the song. These cities are the source of the sound, places for

Swingin', swayin', records playin'
And dancin' in the streets

Why doesn't it matter what you wear? The song isn't an invitation to an exclusive formal; it's a festive "invitation across the nation" that we all step outside of ourselves, take advantage of "a chance for folks to meet," and dance with each other to the "music, sweet music." The end of the song pointedlyrefers to areas associated with white populations (Canada and England), grandly demonstrating the reach of the "brand new beat."

Joyous and exuberant, a unity song in the same tradition as "Everyday People," "Dancing in the Street remains one of the great songs of the 60s. While very much of its time, its call for brotherhood through song and dance represents the best of the enduring spirit of that unique era in American history.

LYRICS
Callin' out around the world
Are you ready for a brand new beat?
Summer's here and the time is right
For dancin' in the streets

They're dancin' in Chicago
Down in New Orleans
Up in New York City

All we need is music, sweet music
There'll be music everywhere
Swingin', swayin', records playin'
And dancin' in the streets

Oh, it doesn't matter what you wear
Just as long as you are there
Come on, every guy grab a girl
Everywhere around the world

There'll be dancin'
They're dancin' in the street

This is an invitation across the nation
A chance for folks to meet
There'll be laughin' and singin' and music swingin'
And dancin' in the streets

Philadelphia PA
(Philadelphia PA)
Baltimore and DC now
(Baltimore and DC now)
Don't forget the Motor City
(Can't forget the Motor City)

All we need is music, sweet music
There'll be music everywhere
Swingin', swayin', records playin'
And dancin' in the streets

Oh, it doesn't matter what you wear
Just as long as you are there
Come on, every guy grab a girl
Everywhere around the world

There'll be dancin',
They're dancin' in the street

Philadelphia PA
(Philadelphia PA)
Baltimore and DC now

(Baltimore and DC now)
Don't forget the Motor City
(Can't forget the Motor City)

All the way in L.A., California
Not to mention Halifax, Nova Scotia, Manchester
Alexandria, Virginia Virginia

Billy Joel : Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)

2010-04-17T12:59:00.000-07:00

SONG Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel

WRITTEN BY Billy Joel

PERFORMED BY Billy Joel

APPEARS ON River of Dreams (1993)

When I was a younger man with a lot less responsibility and a different outlook on life I did a lot of crazy things. I used to blow a lot more money and stay out a lot later doing all kinds of crazy things. I don’t have a problem with people who live on the edge as long as they are not harming anyone or affecting anyone else’s life in the process. I had a good time. When I had my first daughter I didn’t know what to expect. I spent so much time having fun and being loose that I was worried about whether or not I could pull it all together and do what it took to make her life as comfortable as possible. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. I was wondering if the responsibility would kick in. All it really took is watching her take her first breath and hearing her cry. That did it for me. I think that’s why so many young men in my community run before things get to that point because seeing them makes the reality harder to deal with when you don’t want to be responsible. I have no respect for those cats. I don’t know how they do it.

Life is rough sometimes and I don’t always make the right decisions. Sometimes when things get a little heavy I feel like shutting down and getting away from it all but I can’t because when the babies go to sleep I want them to be at peace knowing daddy has everything covered. If things happen and it doesn’t go as smoothly as you planned they should at least know you loved them enough to try. The desire to give them that feeling will get you through a lot of things. A two year old got me through living in a hotel after Hurricane Katrina because I never wanted to take that pain out on her or have her feel the despair going on around her. Every morning I would wake up before she did, get a cup of coffee, and watch her sleep to keep myself going. That’s what I think about every time I hear this Billy Joel song. The song is from his 1993 River of Dreams album and was written for his daughter Alexa. It's one of the best songs written by a father to his child and I know exactly what he was feeling when he wrote this. It’s funny because the way life works there’s going to be a time about 12 years from now when they think “Let’s go through the front door because daddy’s in the back listening to that old song that makes him cry again and he’s going to want a hug or something.” It’s alright if they do that because I did it too. They’ll understand when they have their own kids.

Lyrics
Good night my angel time to close you eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say

I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Where ever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away

Good night my angel now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay

And like a boat out on the ocean
I'm rocking you to sleep
The water's dark and deep
Inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me

Goodnight my angel now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child will cry and if you sing this lullaby
Then in your heart there will always be a part of me

Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabies go on and on
They never die that's how you and I will be

Dan Reeder: Work Song

2010-04-15T05:00:00.000-07:00

SONG Work Song

WRITTEN BY Dan Reeder

PERFORMED BY Dan Reeder

APPEARS ON Dan Reeder (2004)

Little is known about Dan Reeder other than that he is an expatriate living in Germany and that he writes ribald, idiosyncratic songs performed with homemade instruments and equipment. John Prine happened to hear a demo tape of Reeder's first album and signed him to the Oh Boy! label.

A typical chain gang tune -- which Reeder appropriates here -- provided a rhythmic sense for convicts performing what amounted to slave labor, and also served as a vehicle for lyrics with hidden meanings about race and freedom. Reeder erases all of that and focuses on the work itself: Exhausting, meaningless, and unrewarding. Perhaps, one suspects, these are words that convicts might have sung if they could have gotten away with it.

"Work Song's" lyrics speak for themselves: One the one hand, a joke; one the other, a blunt expression of weariness with a dead-end job. They remind me of a story told about Teddy Kennedy when he first ran for the senate in 1962. Kennedy's opponents derided him as a rich kid (he was 30 at time) who had done nothing to merit his financial largesse. As Kennedy shook hands early one morning outside of a Massachusetts factory, a workingman approached him and said, "Ted, they tell me you've not worked a day in your life." The man paused, then went on: "You haven't missed a thing."

LYRICS
I got all, all the fuckin' work I need
I got all, all the fuckin' work I need

The Beatles: Hey Jude

2010-04-12T05:00:00.000-07:00

SONG Hey Jude

WRITTEN BY John Lennon and Paul McCartney

PERFORMED BY The Beatles

APPEARS ON Hey Jude (1970); Past Masters, Vol. 2 (1988)

NOTE The 1970 Hey Jude album has not been released on CD. It is sometimes called The Beatles Again.

My family didn't watch The Smothers Brothers, so it must have been the parents of a friend who told me that The Beatles were about to be on television and did I want to see them? My musical consciousness at the time wasn't raised much past the level of junior high band, so I watched more out of curiosity than interest.

The next seven minutes changed my life.

There was Paul McCartney's face filling up the television screen with his voice singing something about taking a sad song and making it better. The lyrics didn't matter; I was hooked. So I began a musical exploration that has traveled through hundreds of concerts and thousands of albums of music from around the world.

The song, of course, was "Hey Jude." It represents Paul at his best -- genuine, heartfelt sentiments evoked by plain language ("remember" is the only word longer than two syllables) and an infectious melody bulwarked by the most famous chorus in pop music. He wrote "Hey Jude" for John Lennon's son to help Julian cope with his parents' divorce. (Typically, John, notably self-absorbed in a business rife with self-absorption, thought "Hey Jude" was about him.)

The avuncular tone of the lyrics evokes a beloved uncle giving life counsel to a favorite nephew. The advice is simple enough, but timeless nonetheless: There's no point in being unhappy, a perspective Julian was unlikely to hear from his father. This adds a gentle, poignant push to the opening lines "take a sad song and make it better," as if Paul wanted to ensure that Julian heard this from somebody.

From this context, Paul moves on to the preoccupation of every teenage boy: Girls. If you want the girl you like, don't be afraid "let her into your heart." Yes, girls can drive you crazy but if you want to "go out and get her" you have to "let her under your skin." It's scary but worth it ("you begin to make it better") because we all need ""someone to perform with."

Paul then restates the overall point, which is don't make the pain of life worse by carrying "the world on your shoulders" before repeating the first verse, thus summing up the song with the same lyrics that introduce it. The unifying chorus then begins and continues its healing for over three minutes, creating such a communal that one can feel it even when singing alone...

In the video below, if you can watch John and George harmonize without a tear coming to your eye, then your email address must be hopelesscase@heartofstone.com...

LYRICS
Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

Hey Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better

And any time you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Na na na, na na, na na na na

Hey Jude, don't let me down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you? Hey Jude, you'll do
The movement you need is on your shoulder
Na na na, na na, na na na na, yeah

Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Better, better, better, better, better, oh yeah!

Na na na, na-na na na
Na-na na na, hey Jude
Na na na, na-na na na
Na-na na na, hey Jude...

Bob Dylan: All Along the Watchtower

2010-04-09T14:24:00.000-07:00

SONG All Along the Watchtower

WRITTEN BY Bob Dylan

PERFORMED BY Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix

APPEARS ON John Wesley Harding (1967); Electric Ladyland (1968)

NOTE 1 Dylan was so taken with the Hendrix rendition that he performs that arrangement in concert to this day. NOTE 2 The melody and lyrics to "All Along the Watchtower" played a critical role in the final season of the SciFi channel series Battlestar Galactica. NOTE 3 Sony has removed from YouTube all videos all Dylan's original acoustic arrangement, so I can't include that here.

Many Dylan fans and scholars conclude that "All Along the Watchtower" is a middling song that achieved classic status only because of Jimi Hendrix' epic cover version. The lyrics, they argue, are impenetrably cryptic and depend on metaphor that makes no sense: Dave Van Ronk wrote -- irrelevantly and incorrectly, it seems to me -- that "a watchtower is not a road or a wall, and you can't go along it." Van Ronk believed that Dylan's reputation allowed him to get away with lyrics that anyone else would have pilloried over.

Unsurprisingly, I disagree, starting with the obvious point: The lyrics are quintessential Dylan and no one else could have written them. Dylan recorded "Watchtower" in Nashville as part of the sessions that produced John Wesley Harding, the first album released after his 1966 motorcycle accident. Although the details of the accident remain obscure, it apparently inspired Dylan to turn to the Biblical and apocalyptic imagery that populates both John Wesley Harding and The Basement Tapes, the sessions for which actually preceded Harding. The succinctness and directness of "All Along the Watchtower" stand out on an album of songs notable for their elliptical symbolism and elusive meanings that often seem just barely out of reach.

Dylan's original acoustic version (unavailable for linking) is ominous and evocative, with its last line ("the wind began to howl") giving way to a stark and icy harmonica solo. The song emphatically rejects the nihilism that Dylan sees at the heart of commerce:

Businessmen, they drink my wine. Ploughmen dig my earth.
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth

The joker and thief are outsiders who recognize that modern life creates "too much confusion," Cassandras warning the rest of us that "the hour is getting late." In fact, the song is laden with portent: "There's too much confusion," "let us not talk falsely now," "princes kept the view," "a wildcat did growl."

Who are the mysterious two riders? I see them as a tabula rasa upon which listeners can impose their worst fears of a society that defines success by wealth and position. For no reason supported by the lyrics, I've always imagined Dickens' children Ignorance and Want grown up, mounted, and on the offensive. But that's the marvel of the song: It conjures your most acute dread, which in turn impels you to not talk falsely and to pace the watchtower of your existence, ever alert for the two horsemen.

LYRICS
"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief
"There's too much confusion. I can't get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine. Ploughmen dig my earth.
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

"No reason to get excited," the thief he kindly spoke
"There are many here among who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate.
Let us not talk falsely now; the hour is getting late."

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching; the wind began to howl.

Bob kicks butt around the mid-90s:

Jimi at the Isle of Wight in 1970:

Battlestar Galactica Watchtower montage here...

Tom Waits: Time

2010-04-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

SONG: Time

WRITTEN BY: Tom Waits

PERFORMED BY: Tom Waits

APPEARS ON: Rain Dogs; Beautiful Maladies: The Island Years

Tom Waits has many strengths as a songwriter—as a composer, he can spin a lovely ballad as easily as a down & dirty piece of funk; from his earliest days, the instrumentation for these songs has also been consistently first-rate, including everything from a piano trio to the percussion & accordion madness of Swordfishtrombones & Bone Machine. As great as his musical gifts are, they’re matched by his verbal acumen—whether he’s telling an apparently straightforward story or spinning out a nightmarish fairy tale, his words are those of a poet & storyteller; they create a world that comes fully to life during those few minutes the song lasts—& a world that continues in our imaginations after the music stops.

As someone who’s been a Waits fan since the 1970s, it would be difficult for me to pick a favorite album. Still, I must say that I almost always welcome listening to Rain Dogs; the album seems to create a full fledged world—a world in which deformity & desperation seem normative, but where there’s also some faint hope of redemption. Perhaps no song on the album more fully captures that hope—isolated in the midst of a bleak & disturbing scene—than the beautiful ballad “Time.”

Unlike many of Waits’ works, no persona is narrating the story, nor does the story have a distinct narrative line, either explicit or by implication. What Waits does is create a narrative atmosphere, a scenario that the song’s emotions can inhabit. What we discover are moments that have emotional & imaginative coherence—the “invisible fiancee,” “the mamma’s boy” that doesn’t “know when to quit,” the razor-wielding “calendar girl.” In creating these moments, Waits creates some beautiful lines: “the rain sounds like a round of applause,” “they all pretend they're orphans and their memory's like a train/You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away” & “the boys just dive right off the cars and splash into the street” are three examples of such arrestingly poetic moments.

The musical setting for “Time” is beautiful—a spare & harmonically simple ballad (especially in the verse—the chorus has more harmonic movement) carried by Waits’ gruff half-speaking baritone. This is music that speaks to the imagination & the heart.

Time

Well the smart money's on Harlow and the moon is in the street
And the shadow boys are breaking all the laws
And you're east of East Saint Louis and the wind is making speeches
And the rain sounds like a round of applause
And Napoleon is weeping in a carnival saloon
His invisible fiancee's in the mirror
And the band is going home, it's raining hammers, it's raining nails
And it's true there's nothing left for him down here

And it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time

And they all pretend they're orphans and their memory's like a train
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away
And the things you can't remember tell the things you can't forget
That history puts a saint in every dream
Well she said she'd stick around until the bandages came off
But these mama's boys just don't know when to quit
And Mathilda asks the sailors "Are those dreams or are those prayers?"
So close your eyes, son, and this won't hurt a bit

Oh it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time

Well things are pretty lousy for a calendar girl
The boys just dive right off the cars and splash into the street
And when they're on a roll she pulls a razor from her boot
And a thousand pigeons fall around her feet
So put a candle in the window and a kiss upon his lips
As the dish outside the window fills with rain
Just like a stranger with the weeds in your heart
And pay the fiddler off 'til I come back again

Oh it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time
And it's time time time, and it's time time time
And it's time time time that you love
And it's time time time

Old Man River

2010-03-30T21:00:00.000-07:00

SONG Old Man River

WRITTEN BY Oscar Hammerstein II and Jerome Kern

PERFORMED BY Paul Robeson, William Warfield, The Temptations, many others

APPEARS ON Songs of Free Men (Robeson, 1997), Show Boat: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1951, remastered 1995); In A Mellow Mood (1967, The Temptations)

NOTE "Old Man River" was a standard part of Robeson's repertoire and appears on many of his albums. It also became William Warfield's signature song.

Show Boat's 1927 premiere announced the advent of a new kind of musical. For the first time, characters developed and matured. Show Boat used popular music to treat serious thematic concerns, exploring issues of domestic desertion, miscegenation, and racism, the last in the musical's signature number, "Old Man River."

But it was 1927, and the inadvertent racist tone of Hammerstein's original lyrics worked at cross purposes to the theme of oppression; the lyrics were recast through the years to eliminate Hammerstein's minstrelsy conception of southern black dialect. The opening line, for example, morphed from "Niggers all work" to "Darkies all work" to "Colored folk all work" to "Here we all work." Singer Paul Robeson, a genuinely protean character and one of the most fascinating figures of his age, took the lead in rewriting the lyrics, refining them so that the faux dialect did not detract from the considerable power of the melody or the meaning of theme.

"Old Man River" has an almost Marxist sensibility: An anonymous ("...them that plants 'em is soon forgotten...") black workingman oppressed by the inscrutable and relentless force of racism is stuck in a backbreaking dead-end job. He lives only for getting drunk on the weekend and because he fears the alternative of death. His days are robotic, mindless, and never ending: "Don't look up and don't look down...tote that barge, lift that bale." In the end, there is simply weariness and endless effort, while the uncaring "Old Man River just keeps rolling along."

LYRICS
Here we all work 'long the Mississippi
Here we all work while the white folk play
Gettin' no rest from the dawn 'til sunset
Gettin' no rest 'til the Judgment Day

Don't look up and don't look down
You don't dast make the white boss frown
Bend your knees and bow your head
And pull that boat until you're dead

Let me go 'way from the Mississippi
Let me go 'way from the white man boss
Show me that stream called the River Jordan
That's the old stream that I long to cross

Old Man River, that Old Man River
He must know somethin', but he don't say nothin'
He keeps on rollin', he just keeps rollin' along

He don't plant taters, he don't plant cotton
And them that plants 'em is soon forgotten
But Old Man River, he just keeps rollin' along

You and me, we sweat and strain
Bodies all achin' and wracked with pain
Tote that barge, lift that bale
You get a little drunk and you lands in jail

I gets weary and sick of tryin'
I'm tired of livin' and scared of dyin'
But Old Man River, he just keeps rollin' along

Paul Robeson sang "Old Man River" in the 1936 film of Show Boat. The first two verses are moved after the chorus. The montage in the middle of the production emphasizes the theme of racism, including an unforgettable and prophetic shot of an agonized Robeson behind the bars of an overcrowded jail cell:

William Warfield sang "Old Man River" in the 1951 film of Show Boat, eliminated the first two verses, a bowdlerization that greatly diminished the song's main theme. Here, Warfield sings over a montage of photographs of Paul Robeson:

The Temptations, with the initial verses intact. However, "white" has been changed to "rich":

Kenneth Anderson, sings first the first three verses as written, with the "Here we all work" introduction:

Born Under a Bad Sign - Albert King and others

2010-03-23T10:44:00.000-07:00

SONG Born Under a Bad Sign

WRITTEN BY Booker T. Jones (music) & William Bell (words)

PERFORMED BY Albert King, The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Cream, Jimi Hendrix

APPEARS ON Albert King, Born Under a Bad Sign (1967); Paul Butterfield Blues Band, The Resurrection of Pigboy Crabshaw (1967); Cream, Wheels of Fire (1968); Jimi Hendrix, recorded with the Band of Gypsies in 1970 but not released until the compilation Blues (1994)

This song reached iconic status from it's first release by Albert King in 1967. As a Blues number it's pretty straightforward; while there's really nothing special about the lyrics (I can think of maybe 10 other Blues tunes with almost the same lyrics right off the top of my head), that driving pentatonic bass line is hypnotic, almost threatening, much like the driving bass loop of Muddy Waters' "Mannish Boy". Still, though, it's fairly straightforward. What's special about this number is its delivery; this song was blessed with performers who took the song and ran with it.

Let's do the lyrics first, and afterward explore what the performers did with it.

Lyrics:

Born under a bad sign
 I been down since I begin to crawl 
If it wasn't for bad luck, 
I wouldn't have no luck at all

Hard luck and trouble is my only friend
 I been on my own ever since I was ten 
Born under a bad sign I been down since I begin to crawl 
If it wasn't for bad luck, 
I wouldn't have no luck at all

I can't read, haven't learned how to write 
My whole life has been one big fight 
Born under a bad sign
 I been down since I begin to crawl 
If it wasn't for bad luck, 
I wouldn't have no luck at all

I ain't lyin'
 If it wasn't for bad luck 
I wouldn't have no kind-a luck 
If it wasn't for real bad luck,
I wouldn't have no luck at all

Wine and women is all I crave 
A big legged woman is 
gonna carry me to my grave 
Born under a bad sign 
I been down since I begin to crawl 
If it wasn't for bad luck,  
I wouldn't have no luck at all

Yeah, my bad luck boy 
Been havin' bad luck all of my days, yeah

So, what did the individual interpreters do with this song that made it such an icon. Albert King had a pretty workmanlike approach, but he drove the song, to a point where it feels like he's pushing it ahead of himself. It has the typical Chicago-style horn line-up and even some back-up singers, but you feel as if they're trying hard to keep up with King. King puts a lot into his voice; you believe him when he sings that bad luck follows him everywhere. And of course there's the inimitable Albert King guitar style, played on his signature Flying V. Here he is in 1980 in Sweden:

The Paul Butterfield Blues Band is a different story. Butterfield slows it down some and makes it even bluesier, if that's possible. Elvin Bishop's guitar is less flashy than it is impulsive here, and like Albert King he seems to be pushing the band along. Butterfield's expressive voice fits this song well, and the horn section seems so much more lush than King's. This is a classic track, but there was nothing on YouTube with it, so here's the original album track from The Resurrection of Pigboy Crabshaw:

Cream's treatment of "Born Under a Bad Sign" was how many in my generation first heard the song. They slow it down much more than Butterfield did, and under Jack Bruce's voice and Eric Clapton's guitar this song becomes almost menacing, even spooky. Their treatment makes this sound as if the subject of the song isn't just a guy who can't get any breaks, he's a downright harbinger of doom. Here's Cream at their induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame:

Finally, there's the Jimi Hendrix version. He never released this on an album, although he played it at the two live gigs with the Band of Gypsies. This is an instrumental, and like the Cream version it's slow, menacing, and spooky; Hendrix was good at setting that kind of mood. On this tune Jimi's more into creating that mood than playing guitar gymnastics. As I said, it was never released on an album in Jimi's lifetime; this YouTube video uses the track from the 1994 CD Blues, a compilation of Jimi playing Blues covers.

So there you have it - one of the iconic tunes of the Blues and the four performers who made it the icon it became.

Dusty Springfield: I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

2010-03-21T10:00:00.000-07:00

SONG I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

WRITTEN BY Burt Bacharach & Hal David

PERFORMED BY Dusty Springfield

APPEARS ON Dusty (1964) The Very Best of Dusty Springfield (1998); many others

NOTE "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" is an essential Dusty Springfield song. Any anthology without it is incomplete.

The greatest white soul singer bar none was an Irish Catholic lass born in West Hampstead, England with the unlikely name of Mary Isabel Catherine Bernadette O'Brien. Nicknamed "Dusty" as a child because of her tomboy ways, Mary changed her last name to Springfield in 1960 when she helped form a trio that wanted to call itself The Springfields. (No member of the trio was actually named Springfield, but they must have thought it sounded good.) In 1962, The Springfields decamped from England to Nashville with the hope of making, of all things, an authentic American roots album.

The group disbanded a year later, but not before Springfield had begun to absorb the innovative and accessible African-American sounds that would hit the popular music of the 60s with as great an impact as the British Invasion and psychedelia:

Only when I first went to the States and heard black pop music that I discovered...that was the music I wanted to hear.

Springfield's voice reflected a wistfulness, a sense of personal tragedy and loss hanging over everything she sang. She often transformed pedestrian lyrics into something intimate and deeply personal, while at the same time conveying her feelings so that she very nearly melded souls with her listeners. She found all the sad places within people, connected with them, and said, "I understand." In her hands, languorous ballads opened up with each line as she peeled away emotional layers until nothing remained but the deepest private core.

"I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" is a polished but standard MOR Bacharach-David ballad about the aftermath of a breakup. Springfield's interpretation of it demonstrates her ability to find something real in each note of a song and then build on that to satisfying and true conclusion. She locates and expresses with deep empathy the pain and suffering of the discarded one who prefers loneliness and the dim hope of reconciliation to moving on. Somehow, we believe that the dislocation of not knowing what to do is worth continuing to be "still so crazy for you." In the end, she'd rather risk the humiliation of her lover witnessing her angst than give him up altogether.

Springfield's career faded with the 60s, although she recorded right up until her death in 1995. A tumultuous and sad personal life included recurring battles with drug and alcohol addiction, self-cutting, and at least one instance of hospitalization for injuries from domestic violence. Diagnosed with breast cancer in 1994, she passed away the next year.

LYRICS
I just don't know what to do with myself
Don't know just what to do with myself
I'm so used to doing everything with you
Planning everything for two
And now that we're through

I just don't know what to do with my time
I'm so lonesome for you it's a crime
Going to the movie only makes me sad
Parties make me feel as bad
When I'm not with you
I just don't know what to do

Like a summer rose
It needs the sun and rain
Oh, I need your sweet love
To balm all the pain

I just don't know what to do with myself
I just don't know what to do with myself
Baby, if your new love ever turns you down
Come on back, I will be around
I don't know what else to do, no, no, no
I don't know what else to do
I'm still so crazy for you, no, no, no
I don't know what else to do, no, no, no
I'm still so crazy for you

The White Stripes' cover of "Just" is more tribute to Dusty than reinterpretation of the song, as Jack White channels her angst through the sound and technology of his generation:

Cameron Diaz' off-key -- and I do mean off-key -- screech in My Best Friend's Wedding helped make her a star and introduced the song to a new generation (it starts at about a minute in):

The Rolling Stones: Get Off of My Cloud

2010-03-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

SONG Get Off of My Cloud

WRITTEN BY Mick Jagger, Keith Richard

PERFORMED BY The Rolling Stones

APPEARS ON December's Children (And Everybody's) (1965); Big Hits (High Tide and Green Grass (1966); Hot Rocks, 1964-1971 (1972); Forty Licks (2002); others.

NOTE 1 "Get Off of My Cloud" is an essential Stones song. If you are only buying one Stones anthology, get one that includes "Cloud." 2 Stupid and Contagious has more about "Get Off of My Cloud" here.

'Ere I am sittin' in me apartment lookin' out the window and finkin' about fings. Big fings, important fings. When wot 'appens but a bloke comes on the telly actin' like I'm no' a bloody Englishman if I don't use 'is detergent to wash me dishes! Wash me dishes? That's wot I've got a maid for, innit? Anyway, leave me alone, mate. You go your way and I'll go mine. Know wot I mean? Bloody 'ell.

So I'm 'avin' some of me mates over and we're all 'avin a good time talkin' 'bout important fings and there's some girls too and we're all drinkin' and smokin' and mindin' our own biz when the phone rings. It's a bloke from maybe the 'undredth floor or some place who says we're makin' too much noise, know wot I mean? 'E just wants me to invite him down so 'e can be part of the 'ole 60s party, but I ain't 'avin' it. Leave me alone, mate, I tell him. You go your bloody way and I'll go mine. Know wot I mean?

The party's gettin' to be a bit much wif the phone calls and the music and the boys and the girls and all, so I go out for a drive. The girls will be there when I get back, y'know? So I drive and drive and drive and find a car park and kick back and relax and fink about fings and it's so nice and no one's there. No one sellin' me dishwashin' soap or bovverin' me wif phone calls or wantin' to know wot I fink. It's all nice and peaceful like so I doze off and when I wake up me Bentley is covered wif parking tickets.

They won't leave you be, know wot I mean? Like Phil and Don sang, all I want to do is dream, right? But no, no one, not the telly, not your neighbors, not your friends, not the Establishment, no one will leave you to yer cloud so you can just fink. Why is that? Well, all I have to say is, "Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!" 'Coz two's a crowd, know wot I mean?

LYRICS
I live in an apartment on the 99th floor of my block
And I sit at home looking out the window
Imagining the world has stopped
Then in flies a guy who's all dressed up like a Union Jack
And says, I've won five pounds if I have his kind of detergent pack

I said, Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Don't hang around 'cause two's a crowd
On my cloud, baby

The telephone is ringing
I say, "Hi, it's me, who is there on the line."
A voice says, "Hi, hello, how are you?"
"Well, I guess I'm doin' fine."
He says, "It's 3 a.m., there's too much noise
Don't you people ever want to go to bed?
Just 'cause you feel so good, do you
Have to drive me out of my head?"

I said, Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Don't hang around 'cause two's a crowd
On my cloud, baby

I was sick and tired, fed up with this
And decided to take a drive downtown
It was so very quiet and peaceful, not a soul around
I laid myself out, I was so tired, I started to dream
In the morning the parking tickets were just like
A flag stuck on my screen

I said, Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Hey! You! Get off of my cloud!
Don't hang around 'cause two's a crowd
On my cloud, baby

Mick looks to be checking out the girls at about 1:20--

We Shall Overcome

2010-03-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

SONG We Shall Overcome

WRITTEN BY Guy Carawan, Frank Hamilton, Zilphia Horton, Pete Seeger

PEFORMED BY Joan Baez, Mahalia Jackson, Pete Seeger, SNCC Freedom Singers, many others.

APPEARS ON Joan Baez in Concert Part 2 (1963); We Shall Overcome (Mahalia Jackson, 1999); We Shall Overcome: The Complete Carnegie Hall Concert (Pete Seeger, 1989 release of 1963 performance); many others.

Perhaps no anthem of the Civil Rights movement resonated as acutely with white liberals as "We Shall Overcome." While the reason remains elusive, a relatively easy transition from spiritual to the folk idiom surely helped, as did the song's early identification with the post-War labor movement. At any rate, the melding of an inspirational melody with a trenchant articulation of the tactics, values, and aims of the Civil Rights movement also expressed the values of liberalism at large. The song lives still, translated into languages around the world and recorded by such prominent artists as Bruce Springsteen.

It isn't exactly known when "We Shall Overcome" began its hundred-year tortuous trek from the bitter cotton fields of the slave holding South to bellwether song of the Civil Rights movement and centerpiece of a memorable presidential address. In 1867, The Atlantic's Thomas Wentworth Higgenson wrote about a spiritual called "Many Thousands Gone" (also known as "No More Auction Block For Me") that is now thought to have supplied the melody of "We Shall Overcome." This began a complex time line that looks something like this:

1900: Charles Albert Tindley writes "I'll Overcome Someday," which becomes the template for the lyrics to "We Shall Overcome." Tindley uses a different tune.
Stock religious music phrases like "deep in my heart" are absorbed into Tindley's lyrics.
1900-45: Tindley's lyrics are melded to "Many Thousands Gone" and the new song becomes a labor movement standard.
1930s: Tobacco workers bring "I Shall Overcome" to the Highlander Folk School, which trains labor activists and later Civil Rights movement activists.
1945-56: Highlander music director Zilphia Horton hears the song either from students or while marching in a picket line.
1947: Pete Seeger, a founder of Highlander changed, changes the chorus from "I'll overcome" to "We shall overcome" ("I think I liked a more open sound") and adds new verses.
1959: New Highlander Musical director Guy Carawan makes the song a standard part the school's new focus, that of training students in techniques of nonviolent resistance.
1959-60: Police raids on Highlander results in jail time for many students. They sing "We Shall Overcome" as way of boosting morale, and in doing so add the final touches of lyrics and rhythms.
1960: Carawan leads a performance of the song at the initial meeting of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. From there, it disperses throughout the Civil Rights movement and becomes the movement's most well-known song.
1963: Joan Baez sings "We Shall Overcome" before hundreds of thousands at the March on Washington.
1965: In the violent wake of the Selma-to-Birmingham march, a determined President Lyndon Johnson uses "We Shall Overcome" as the rhetorical fulcrum of an address to Congress calling for Voting Rights legislation:

Civil Rights movements around the world adapted "We Shall Overcome," including movements in Bangladesh, Czechoslovakia, Northern Ireland, and South Africa. As recently as 2009, Joan Baez recorded a version for the Iran protesters, with lyrics in Farsi. It has also been translated into Bengali, Hindi, and Malayalm.

How does one account for the international success of a hybrid song that combines a field spiritual melody with lyrics written by a turn-of-the-century hymn composer and a radical white folk singer?

For one thing, there is the nature of the song itself, which struck a note of liberation from its very beginnings in those brutal fields. Lindley's lyrics added key elements of faith and transcendence and Seeger's adjustments returned the song to its roots of freedom and justice. He also introduced a critical element of community by changing "I will" to "We shall." The melody itself is irresistibly hypnotic and lends itself to circumstances as intimate and frightening as a jail cell to the comfort and solidarity of a mass gathering. Tragically, one South African prisoner sang it on the gallows.

Moreover, each verse iterates a tactic and value of the movement and of core liberal values at large. "We shall overcome" speaks to the conviction that injustice will be defeated and the world made better. "We'll walk hand in hand," "we are not alone," and "the whole wide world around" reflect the belief that solidarity of action will encourage sympathizers outside of the movement and eventually everyone else to join the cause. And "we shall all be free" of course identifies the ultimate aim of the movement.

Taken as a whole, the the lyrics of "We of Shall Overcome" offer a world in which persistence, solidarity, freedom, courage, compassion and human love, unity across color and class defeat injustice, poverty, bigotry, and despair. It is the fundamental liberal vision in which society, country, and law exist to advance the welfare and equality of a community of all, regardless of race, religion, or political belief. Or, as President Johnson put it in the speech above, "to right wrong, to do justice, to serve man." In this sense, "We Shall Overcome" reflects core liberal values in a way that no other song does, or is ever likely to.

LYRICS
We shall overcome
We shall overcome
We shall overcome some day

CHORUS
Oh, deep in my heart
I do believe
That we shall overcome some day

We'll walk hand in hand
We'll walk hand in hand
We'll walk hand in hand some day

CHORUS

We shall all be free
We shall all be free
We shall all be free some day

CHORUS

We are not afraid
We are not afraid
We are not afraid today

CHORUS

We are not alone
We are not alone
We are not alone today

CHORUS

The whole wide world around
The whole wide world around
The whole wide world around some day

CHORUS

We shall overcome
We shall overcome
We shall overcome some day

CHORUS

Joan Baez sings to audience of rapt British young people in the BBC studios:

Pete Seeger brought this version with him from the Highlander School:

Martin Luther King, who credited "We Shall Overcome" with helping unify the movement, incorporated it into a 1968 speech, one of his last:

Mahalia Jackson, from the late 60s:

The SNCC Freedom Singers reprise "We Shall Overcome" at Chicago's Woodson Regional Library in 2007:

Joan Baez again, dedicated to the Tehran protesters and with some verses in Farsi:

Arlo Guthrie: City of New Orleans

2010-03-09T07:00:00.000-08:00

SONG City of New Orleans

WRITTEN BY Steve Goodman

PERFORMED BY Arlo Guthrie

APPEARS ON Hobo's Lullaby (1972), The Best of Arlo Guthrie (2007)

NOTE Clay Eals, author of Steve Goodman: Facing the Music, is the source of the account of how Steve Goodman and Arlo Guthrie met.

Late one 1971 evening in a Chicago club, the club owner and a then unknown singer-songwriter named Steve Goodman approached Arlo Guthrie, who just finished performing. The owner asked Guthrie to listen to a song Goodman had written. A reluctant Guthrie agreed to listen for as long as it took him to drink a beer. And Goodman had to buy the beer.

The song that the owner had in mind was called "City of New Orleans," which was inspired by a ride Goodman and his wife had taken on the train of that name to visit her mother (a trip Goodman had also taken many times as a student at the University of Illinois at Champagne-Urbana). Rife with nostalgia for a long ago America of rail travel and club cars, the song depicted a near-deserted train with more mail than passengers. As Guthrie listened to the song, his mood must have softened. Had he known that "City of New Orleans" would eclipse "Alice's Restaurant" as his signature song, he might have jumped for joy.

Guthrie transformed the guitar-based folk song that Goodman romped through by slowing the tempo and singing it from behind a piano. In Guthrie's elegiac rendition, "City" transcended nostalgia; listeners found themselves on the train, imagining themselves as one of the "fifteen restless riders" on a "southbound odyssey" to the past, pacing nervously from one car to another, kibitzing or sitting in on the penny a point card game in the club car.

Goodman seemed to know that his beloved Midwest was fading, and Guthrie captured perfectly the pathos of nameless trains, auto graveyards, and the rumbling gentle beat of a disappearing way of life that "still ain't heard the news." At the end of each verse comes the haunting and ironic chorus, with the City of New Orleans optimistically greeting the country and the new day knowing full well that it will be long gone when the "day is done," five hundred miles further on its inexorable journey "through the Mississippi darkness rolling down to the sea."

"City of New Orleans" changed at least three lives. For Goodman, the royalties from Guthrie's #20 hit meant that he could quit his day job to become a full-time prolific songwriter. Highly respected by his peers, Goodman attracted a cult following and went on to write many more songs, including David Allan Coe's #8 country hit "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" (written with John Prine) and the Chicago favorite "A Dying Cubs Fan's Last Request." Steve Goodman died of leukemia in 1984 at the age of 36.

Before "City of New Orleans," Arlo Guthrie was known as a performer of novelty songs and as the son of America's greatest folk singer. "City" revealed Guthrie as an artist of great depth, insightful enough to take another writer's song and improve on it. It anchored his 1972 album Hobo's Lullaby, an electic mix of traditional and modern folk, country, blues, Hawaiiana, and ragtime. Guthrie looked back to the work of his father and his father's contemporaries while simultaneously reinterpreting modern songwriters like Goodman, Hoyt Axton, and Bob Dylan.

"City" informs Hobo's Lullaby throughout. Images of solitary travel abound: "I'll come back home to you," "On a long lonesome journey I'm going," "Take a trip with me to 1913," "I've been to wild Montana," and, from the title track which is also "City's" poignant companion piece, "let the town's drift slowly by" and "can't you hear the steel rails hummin'." "Lightning Bar Blues" and "Ukulele Lady" sound like songs a lonesome passenger might pick out on the guitar that travels everywhere with him. The title of "Mapleview (20%) Rag" evokes New Orleans itself, the home of ragtime. And the fragile community of conductors, porters, passengers, and engineers finds its expression in

Every day another man reaches out his hand
Every moment there's a shifting in the sand

It's my favorite Guthrie album, one I still listen to several times a year.

Which leads me to the third person whose life "City of New Orleans" changed: Me. I liked the song when I heard it on the radio and bought Hobo's Lullaby when it came out. I was 17 at the time, and it opened my ears to a new musical vocabulary. For the first time, I heard a country song ("Shackles & Chains") that I wanted to sing along with instead of ridicule, and my love of classic country began. I had never heard the blues played acoustically; eventually, this led to the discovery of Robert Johnson and his mystical world of hustlers, fast women, and uncompromising demons. Hobo's Lullaby forced me to recognize that there were songwriters other than the sanctified Dylan and Lennon-McCartney.

Growing up, my family moved many times until settling in South Texas in 1967. Every summer the seven of us piled into a station wagon made the trek from Texas to Pennsylvania and Massachusetts to visit relatives, a trip that made us international wanderers by the lights of South Texas. Until I listened to "City of New Orleans," it never occurred to me that one day I could travel by myself to wherever I wanted to go. The romance of that notion held me then, and still holds me today.

LYRICS
Riding on the City of New Orleans,
Illinois Central Monday morning rail
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,
Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' trains that have no names,
Freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.

Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me I'm your native son,
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

Dealin' card games with the old men in the club car.
Penny a point ain't no one keepin' score.
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor.
And the sons of pullman porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel.
Mothers with their babes asleep,
Are rockin' to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.

Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me I'm your native son,
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

Nighttime on The City of New Orleans,
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.
Half way home, we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness
Rolling down to the sea.
And all the towns and people seem
To fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't heard the news.
The conductor sings his song again,
The passengers will please refrain
This train's got the disappearing railroad blues.

Good night, America, how are you?
Don't you know me I'm your native son,
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.

I saw this tour in 1978. Arlo amassed five guitars for "Comin' into Los Angeles." Here, he sings an assured version of "City of New Orleans":

Steve Goodman, "City's" author, with Jethro Burns of Homer and Jethro on mandolin:

Wille Nelson and Sheryl Crow essay a rollicking country version that seems to have benefited from passing the paper bag that holds the bottle:

Arlo, once more:

P.S. If you watched the Coe video and thought the guitarist looked familiar, that's because he's Warren Haynes, the guitar hero who went on to revive the Allman Brothers and lead Gov't Mule.

Some Enchanted Evening

2010-03-05T13:00:00.000-08:00

SONG Some Enchanted Evening

WRITTEN BY Richard Rodgers (music) and Oscar Hammerstein (lyrics)

PERFORMED BY Ezio Pinza, Giorgio Tozzi, Paulo Szot (with Kelli O'Hara)

APPEARS ON South Pacific (OBC, 1949; film, 1958, Broadway revival, 2008); covered many times

When South Pacific opened on Broadway in 1949, critics approvingly cited its call for racial acceptance. Although South Pacific wasn't the first musical to deal with miscegenation (that would be Showboat), its pre-Civil Rights movement sensibility must have seemed almost daring at the time. Today, the musical's racial plot elements seem mild and even safe, given that they took place in a locale far from the United States and did not concern relations between whites and blacks.

One contemporary writer has vehemently criticized the show's Orientalist subtext, although he gets so many facts wrong that his argument loses steam and becomes overwrought. While there is self-satisfied aspect to the book, a musical in 1949 was not an ideal venue to address a theme that most white Americans didn't know existed. If nothing else, South Pacific deserves credit for raising the subject, even if gingerly.

What few deny is the richness of the soundtrack of one of the first great post-War musicals. "A Cockeyed Optimist." "Bloody Mary." "There Is Nothing Like a Dame." "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair." "A Wonderful Guy." "Younger Than Springtime." "Happy Talk." "Honey Bun." "You've Got to Be Carefully Taught." "This Nearly Was Mine." One after another they come, a showstopper panoply of wit, farce, romance, and social commentary.

The greatest and most famous of all is, of course, "Some Enchanted Evening," the Broadway love-at-first sight song. Oscar Hammerstein reportedly wanted to write a song with the strong presence of an active voice, and he succeeded: "Evening's" verbs "see," "know," "hear," and "sing" emphasize the senses and as such give the song its powerful sensual appeal. Other images of romance and sensuality abound: A stranger emerges from a crowded room, laughter sings in dreams, and love is found in the mysterious, enchanted night.

It's not a passive love, either:

When you hear her call you
Across a crowded room
Then fly to her side
And make her your own

And what great love is passive? The night may beckon and the stranger may await, but you still have to cast aside caution and fly to her side. Only "fools give you reasons," but if you don't, you will pay the price and "dream all alone."

LYRICS
Some enchanted evening
You may see a stranger
You may a see a stranger
Across a crowded room
And somehow you know
You know even then
That somewhere you'll see her
Again and again

Some enchanted evening
Someone may be laughing
You may hear her laughing
Across a crowded room
And night after night
As strange as it seems
The sound of her laughter
Will sing in your dreams

Who can explain it?
Who can tell you why?
Fools give you reasons
Wise men never try

Some enchanted evening
When you find your true love
When you hear her call you
Across a crowded room
Then fly to her side
And make her your own
Or all through your life
You may dream all alone

Once you have found her
Never let her go
Once you have found her
Never let her go

A dashing Paulo Szot and a wholesome Kelli O'Hara headed the superb 2009 revival:

Opera basso Ezio Pinza's led the original cast and initiated the tradition of casting an opera singer in the role of Emile. Pinza's 1949 rendition became a hit and made him an unlikely national celebrity:

Perry Como's somewhat languid version was nonetheless hit #1 in 1949:

The Prisonaires: Just Walkin' in the Rain

2010-02-27T09:00:00.000-08:00

SONG Just Walkin' in the Rain

WRITTEN BY Johnny Bragg and Robert Riley

PERFORMED BY The Prisonaires

APPEARS ON Sun Records single (1953, #2 U. S.); Just Walkin' in the Rain (1991 and 1994); many general doo wop and 50s R&B anthologies.

NOTE Thanks to Peter Tibbles, who writes a Sunday music column on the blog Time Goes By, for calling my attention to this song in his 2/21/10 entry about Sun Records.

Of all the popular songs with underlying stories of sadness and loss, perhaps none is as steeped in personal tragedy and vanished promise as the Prisonaires "Just Walkin' in the Rain." As the story goes, convicted multiple rapist Johnny Bragg walked across the Tennessee State Prison yard one afternoon with fellow inmate Robert Riley when it began to rain. "Here we are," Bragg is supposed to have said, "Just walking in the rain and wondering what the girls are doing." Riley suggested that Bragg's apothegm had the potential for a song; as Bragg was illiterate, he dictated the words to Riley, who wrote them down in exchange for a songwriting credit.

Bragg joined forces with four other prisoners convicted of murder, involuntary manslaughter, and larceny. I don't know whether these men were guilty or not. The record says that they were, but the chances of a black male receiving due process in the Jim Crow South of the 1950s were slim. In any case, radio host Joe Calloway heard the Prisonaires singing while preparing a broadcast from the Tennessee State Prison.

Calloway persuaded the prison's relatively progressive warden to let the quartet perform on the air. These performances came to the attention of legendary Sun Records producer Sam Phillips, who arranged the recording session, under heavy armed guard, that produced "Just Walkin' in the Rain." The single sold 50,000 copies, a not insignificant amount in 1953.

It would be the group's only hit. The unusual use of an acoustic guitar behind the doo wop vocals creates a haunting effect as lonely and forlorn as a Hank Williams song. (Indeed, I would like to have heard Hank sing this one.) Although the song may be about girls, the perhaps unintentional imagery of incarceration is striking and remarkable. The rain itself seems like prison bars, a heart is tortured, people stare at the singer through a window that separates him from the outside world as if he were a freak. Indeed, they wonder "who can that fool be." By the end of the song, rain and torture have become inextricably linked.

The Prisonaires were a favorite of Tennessee's powerful governor Frank Clements, a relative moderate by southern standards. Clements often had the band perform at the governor's mansion, and was likely responsible for the commutation of Bragg's sentence in 1959. Once out of prison, Bragg continued an undistinguished recording career. He died of cancer in 2004.

LYRICS
Just walkin' in the rain
Getting soaking wet
Torturing my heart
By trying to forget

Just walkin' in the rain
So alone and blue
And all because my heart
Still remembers you

People come to windows
They always stare at me
Shaking their heads in sorrow
Saying, who can that fool be?

Just walkin' in the rain
Thinkin' how we met
Knowing things could change
Somehow I can't forget

(Just walkin' in the rain)
(Walkin' in the rain)
(Walkin' in the rain)
(Just walkin' in the rain)
(All day I...)

People come to their windows
They always stare at me
Shaking their heads in sorrow
Saying, who can that fool be?

Just walkin' in the rain
(Walkin' in the rain)
Getting soaking wet
(Walkin' in the rain)
Torturing my heart
(Walkin' in the rain)
By trying to forget
(Walkin' in the rain)

It was typical in the 50s and early 60s for white singers to sing homogenized versions of songs originated by black performers. Pat Boone was particularly famous (or infamous, depending on your perspective) for this. Here, white singer Johnnie Ray performs "Walkin' in the Rain," a version that I think is fair to say does not hold a candle to the original in terms of emotional impact. Supposedly, that's Ray Coniff whistling.

B.B. King : Sweet Sixteen

2010-02-24T18:00:00.000-08:00

SONG: Sweet Sixteen

WRITTEN BY: Some sites say the song was written by B.B. King and Joe Josea. Others say it was written by “Ertegun and Ahmet”.

PERFORMED BY: B.B. King

APPEARS ON: From the Beginning (1956). Other references say it was recorded in 1960 but doesn’t list an album. It’s on numerous other compilations and live recordings.

Since K. introduced me to this blog I have seen many posts about blues songs. Most of them I hadn’t heard of before reading about them. At the risk of having my posting access revoked I will admit to the readers that I am not the biggest blues fan in the world. I like it in certain spots but if I have a choice I would rather listen to A Tribe Called Quest over John Lee Hooker. It’s a personal preference. There are a handful of blues songs that can get the nod over just about anything. One of those is Sweet Sixteen by B.B King. I like the blues but I love B.B. King. He’s one of the reasons I am tortured by the fact I have no musical talent and can’t play an instrument if my life depended on it.

When I was a kid one of the highlights of my weekend was when my dad would pull out the reel to reel music player he brought back from Vietnam and play music on it. The sound quality sucked and it seemed to take him an hour to set the thing up but whenever he pulled it out I knew the big man was in a good mood. He probably made some extra money that week or something and for a person that hardly ever spent money on himself, the reel to reel was one of his few man toys. Unfortunately for him there was only two reels survived the trip from Vietnam back to New Orleans. One was Aretha Franklin and the other was B.B. King live in concert. I was a B.B. King fan at the age of ten even though I didn’t understand what he was singing about.

The lyrics are pretty cut and dry. The song is about a troubled man that has been in love with this woman since she was 16 years old and she’s not treating him right. Before you think B.B. King is talking about something risque, keep in mind this song was recorded back in 1960 and women got married young especially down south. If he made it in today’s time it would have to be Sweet Twenty Six (I hope everyone got that joke). People who haven’t been through the feeling of wanting someone to feel a certain way about them may not get the emotion B.B. is showing when he sings this song. If you can’t get with the singing then just listen to how Lucille cries right along with him. It's a duet featuring the singer and their instrument which are the best performances. I suggest finding as many different live versions as you can find. They are all slightly different but great. The live version I am posting below makes me feel like sharing a cigar and a drink with my dad. Even I didn’t like the song I would watch the performance anyway because it’s always fun to watch someone great at what they do when they are doing it at the top of their game.

Clifton.

Lyrics:

When I first met you baby
baby you were just sweet sixteen
When I first met you baby
baby you was just sweet sixteen
Just left your home then baby
the sweetest thing I'd ever seen

But you wouldn't do nothing for me baby
You wouldn't do anything I asked you to
You wouldn't do nothing for me baby
You wouldn't do anything I asked you to
You know you ran away from your home baby
And now you wanna run away from old me too

You know I love you baby
I love you before I could call your name
You know, you know I loved you baby
Baby I loved you, I love you before I could call your name
It seems like everything I do now baby
Everything I do is in vain

Treat me mean baby
But I'll keep on loving you just the same
Treat me mean baby
I'll keep on loving you just the same
But one of these days baby
You're gonna give a lot of money
Just to hear someone call my name

Yes sweet sixteen baby... sweet sixteen... oh yes
The sweetest thing baby
Oh yes, the sweetest thing I ever seen
You know I'm having so much trouble woman
Baby I wonder
Yes I wonder
Baby I wonder
Oh, I wonder what in the world's gonna happen to me

Elvis Presley: Can't Help Falling in Love

2010-02-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

SONG Can't Help Falling in Love

WRITTEN BY George David Weiss, Hugo Peretti, and Luigi Creatore

PERFORMED BY Elvis Presley

APPEARS ON Blue Hawaii (1961); numerous anthologies

NOTE 1 "Can't Help Falling in Love" is an essential Elvis Presley song. Avoid any anthology of Elvis film soundtracks or of Elvis material from the 60s that does not include it. 2 There's an interesting analysis of Blue Hawaii here, in which the writer points out that the film features a sexless Elvis who, far from representing the underclass from which he arose, is a member of Hawaii's upper crust.

"I sing all kinds," a callow Elvis famously claimed, and added that "I don't sound like nobody." He spent the next twenty years proving those points in one of the most remarkable and important careers in popular music. It's received wisdom that the five years from 1953-58 were a still inconceivable outpouring of groundbreaking innovation and hit singles, but that after Elvis joined the Army in a mismatch as ill-conceived as deep fried peanut butter and mashed bananas, his career became a barren wasteland of uninspired music marked by mediocre films.

But that's too pat. In fact, Elvis recorded brilliant music throughout his life, especially 1969's From Elvis in Memphis and From Memphis to Vegas/From Vegas to Memphis (collected, along with alternate versions, on 1999's excellent Suspicious Minds). The great music was admittedly harder to uncover, which gave credibility to the notion that military service drained his creativity. But even the much (and often justly) maligned movie soundtracks usually featured a gem or two: Given good material, Elvis invariably sang it with with typical brio. Blue Hawaii, lame by even the relaxed standards of Elvis movies, is no exception. It includes the classic "Can't Help Falling in Love," in which the man famous for loving his mother sings movingly and touchingly to the 60-year old Wahila (Hilo Hattie).

That's right: Elvis found the inspiration for one of the most memorable love songs of the 60s not in lissome co-star Joan Blackman, but in a sexagenarian stand-in for his beloved mother who had died three years earlier in 1958. Elvis fans often claim that this scene was a mistake (see article linked above), that he should have sung the song to Blackman. But Blue Hawaii was going to be weak under any circumstances; Elvis crooning to a 22-year old ingenue in a Beach Blanket Bingo setting wouldn't have improved the film and might well have weakened his performance of the song. And it's the song, not the movie, that we remember.

"Can't Help Falling in Love" has an unusual background. Adapted from an 18th Century French love song (arranged by Hector Berlioz!), it was written by a collaborative of three songwriters with over a hundred years of experience between them. George David Weiss' credits included the Gidget movies and such forgotten Broadway musicals as First Impressions (with Sammy Davis, Jr. and based on, of all things, Pride and Prejudice), while Luigi Creatore and Hugo Peretti wrote songs for Valerie Carr and produced artists from Perry Como to Sam Cooke to Jimmie Rodgers. Together, they composed a simple two-minute love song that Elvis Presley interpreted for the ages.

Elvis almost always sang to someone. He never peered down from on high like, say, Pete Townshend did (albeit precariously). He never disguised his message in oblique symbols and images a la Dylan, and he was anything but a confessional singer seeking isolate himself and his sins in a cocoon with an individual listener. Nor, in his recordings, was there a marked distance between him and his audience. Whether he rocked or crooned, Elvis at his best sang to us as individuals and as a community of which he was a member.

At the end of the day, Elvis was one of us, the commoner as king, except that he had an unparalleled gift and an unequaled taste in and feel for songs. One hopes that, as he embarked on what he must have guessed would be an gantlet of uninspired movies, he smiled when he saw the score for "Can't Help Falling In Love" and thought of his beloved mother.

LYRICS
Wise men say only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you
Shall I stay
Would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
For I can't help falling in love with you

They didn't call him The King for nothing:

Arlo Guthrie and Pete Seeger show that "Can't Help Falling in Love" is a folk song, too:

UB40 reached #1 in 1993:

Let X=X

2010-02-18T09:55:00.000-08:00

SONG: Let X=X

BY: Laurie Anderson

PERFORMED BY: Laurie Anderson

APPEARS ON: Big Science (Nonesuch); United States Live (Warner Brothers); Live in New York (Nonesuch)

I remember my first encounter with Laurie Anderson’s music quite vividly. I was in a “Religion & Art” seminar at the University of Vermont, a class co-taught by two excellent professors. One of them said he was going to play a song that he believed was relevant to themes we’d been discussing: the song was “O Superman” from Anderson’s Big Science album—the lines "Cause when love is gone, there's always justice / And when justice is gone, there's always force / And when force is gone, there's always Mom,” as well as the eerie lines about “Here come the planes/They’re American planes/Made in America” moved me in a way few songs have; & within hours if not minutes of that class ending, I had purchased the Big Science album.

Those who’ve read any of my previous posts here, which have all sprung from my keen interest in old blues & old-time country, may be surprised me to see me write about an artist who relies so heavily on electronics & who—despite what I see as very considerable music talent—tends to be identified primarily with performance art. This isn’t just a case, however, of me reviving musical tastes from earlier in my life for nostalgia’s sake. I listened to most of the first three discs of United States Live this week & found them just as compelling as ever.

The song “Let X=X” is a great introduction to Anderson. Probably more accessible than a number of her pieces, it still contains a number of characteristic gestures: the exploration of language & signification in lyrics presented with deadpan & absurdist humor, the minimalist music, the use of the vocoder to distort her voice.

As a poet myself, I’ve long since rebelled against the poetic theory in which X=Y—that X is not real in itself, but only a stand-in for Y; I don’t care for “symbolic” reading. On the other hand, as we know from Magritte, a painting of a pipe is not a pipe, nor for that matter is the word “pipe” the thing itself. They are pointers—they direct our attention, whether in imagination or in tangible reality to the thing they signify. This is rather heady theory for a song with such deceptively simple lyrics. But we should direct our attention to the equivalencies in the lyrics: the “guy” looks like he “might have been a hat check clerk at an ice rink”—a rather absurd description, except for the fact that, according to the song, it’s a fact—or at least an equivalency. The “sky” is “sky-blue”; again, an equivalency in descriptive language; the “future” is a place “about 70 miles east of here.”

How does this relate to the long string of small-talk banter? For one thing, it makes this sort of typically meaningless chatter—such as “Thanks for putting on the feed-bag” gain a more direct equivalency to the literal. Yes, it seems vacuous, but it also signifies—it points beyond itself. The same can be said for the final image of the burning building. To “feel like” one is in a burning building is one thing—a feeling of urgency & panic, of course—but it is not the same as being in a burning building—there is a displacement thru the simile—the use of “like”; still, the entrance of the horns at this point build a musical climax from the earlier tranquil background that in some sense contradicts the distance of the “like” in the figure of speech.

There is real depth in Anderson's music & lyrics—combined with musical effects that to my ear sound as fresh & revolutionary today as they did in the 1980s; & you can dance to lots of her songs! Hope you enjoy this truly amazing piece of music.

Let X=X

I met this guy -
and he looked like might have been a hat check clerk at an ice rink.
Which, in fact, he turned out to be.
And I said: Oh boy. Right again.

Let X=X. You know, it could be you.
It's a sky-blue sky. Satellites are out tonight.
Let X=X.

You know, I could write a book.
And this book would be thick enough to stun an ox.
Cause I can see the future and it's a place - about 70 miles east of here.
Where it's lighter. Linger on over here.
Got the time?
Let X=X.

I got this postcard. And it read, it said:
Dear Amigo - Dear Partner.
Listen, now - I just want to say thanks. So...thanks.
Thanks for all the presents.
Thanks for introducing me to the Chief.
Thanks for putting on the feedbag.
Thanks for going all out.
Thanks for showing me your Swiss Army knife.
Oh and uh -
Thanks for letting me autograph your cast.
Hug and kisses. XXXXOOOO.
Oh yeah, P.S.
I - I feel - feel like - I am - in a
burning building - and I gotta go.
Cause I - I feel - feel like - I am -
in a burning building - and I gotta go.

The Knack: My Sharona

2010-02-15T15:46:00.001-08:00

SONG My Sharona

WRITTEN BY Doug Fieger and Berton Averre

PERFORMED BY The Knack

APPEARS ON Get The Knack (1979)

This is "The Song That Killed Disco", and for that reason alone I love, worship, and adore it (yes, if you haven't guessed yet, I hate disco). The Knack came at just the right time, with music that gave what people wanted. After about 5 years of disco domination of the commercial airwaves, The Knack provided straight-ahead Rock & Roll - no glitz, no stack heels, no over-production, no metronome beat. The music hearkened back to the Beatles, the Stones, The Kinks, and other early British groups of the 1960s. And as the song's principle composer and Knack frontman Doug Fieger died yesterday after a long battle with cancer, I thought this would be the ideal time to feature "My Sharona".

"My Sharona" was on their debut album, Get The Knack, released in 1979. Fieger claims that the song was based on his infatuation with girlfriend Sharona Alperin (that's her on the record sleeve photo). Like most Knack songs, the lyrics are pretty much all about teenage male hormonal lust. The content of the lyrics is the least important thing about them; what's more important is that they form, along with that great bass line, a vital part of the rhythmic drive of the song. Doug Fieger's quirky delivery of the lyrics adds to the stop-start quality of the song, which comes across as an almost tribal ritual performance. No wonder it hit #1 on the charts for 6 weeks in 1979!

Lyrics

Oo my little pretty one, pretty one
When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?
Oo you make my motor run, my motor run
Gun it coming off of the line, Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind
I always get it up with a touch of the younger kind
My-ee my-ee my-ee ahee ah woo!
Ma ma ma my Sharona

Come a little closer, over here
Close enough to look in my eyes, Sharona
Keep a little mystery, kissin' me
Runnin' down the length of my thigh, Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind
I always get it up from a touch of the younger kind
My-ee my-ee my-ee ahee ah woo!
Ma ma ma my Sharona
Ma ma ma my Sharona

(1st guitar solo)

When ya gonna get to me, get to me
Is it just a matter of time, Sharona
Is it a destiny, a destiny
Or is it just a game in my mind, Sharona
Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind
I always get it up from a touch of the younger kind
My-ee my-ee my-ee ahee ah woo!
Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma ma
Myee my-ee my-ee ahee ah woo!
Ma ma ma my Sharona
Ma ma ma my Sharona
Ma ma ma my Sharona
Ma ma ma my Sharona

(2nd guitar solo)

Ooooh ah my Sharona
Ooooh ah my Sharona
Ooooh ah my Sharona

As I said, Doug Fieger passed away yesterday - February 14, 2010 - at the age of 57 after a long battle with brain and lung cancer. What better way to say good-bye than to play the song that made him and his reputation. Here's a live version of "My Sharona" from what looks to be the mid '80s. Good-bye, Doug; you're gonna be missed!

R.E.M.: Find the River

2010-02-06T06:00:00.000-08:00

SONG Find the River

WRITTEN BY Bill Berry, Peter Buck, Mike Mills, Michael Stipe

PERFORMED BY R.E.M.

APPEARS ON Automatic for the People (1992)

NOTE Michael Stipe invented "rose of hay" because he needed a rhyme for "way" and "naivete."

The best R.E.M. songs typically feature oblique, apparently indecipherable lyrics supported by hook-ridden melodies and meticulous production. "Find the River" is no exception, a soaring ballad with lush harmonies augmented by simple, less-is-more instrumentation. But the very simplicity of of the instrumentation lends an uncomplicated eloquence to the proceedings and forms an organic whole vital to the song's theme.

In literature, rivers have long represented both a life force and, because of their eternal movement to the sea through an immobile landscape, questing and searching. T. S. Eliot wrote of the novel Huckleberry Finn that

A river, a very big and powerful river, is the only natural force that can wholly determine the course of human peregrination.

Eliot thought Mark Twain's vision of the Mississippi River transformed Huckleberry Finn from an adventure story into a great book. Thus, the river is life-giving artistically ("river poet search") as well as thematically.

"Find the River" is best understood as a mystical tapestry of imagery and symbolism about a lifelong quest for meaning not found in "...the city/Where people drown and people serve." The accumulation of varying spices infuses the song like incense, lending a sort of holiness to the journey. The nearly poetic imagery supplies the same sense of transcendence:

Me, my thoughts are flowers strewn
Ocean storm, bayberry moon

At the same time, the drive to light out ahead of the rest (as Huck Finn put it) --

I have got to leave to find my way

--is as quintessentially and stolidly American as a town hall.

In "Find a River," the journey must be the reward. The uncertainties and disappointments of life ("Nothing is going my way") guarantee no destination other than the finality of the ocean. After the long trek charted in the song, the only promise is that someday

All of this is coming your way

It may be a harbinger of hope, but it's just as likely a prediction that the same striving awaits -- who? a lover? a child? a listener? But at least this striving is a search for something transcendent, an escape from the daily grind of "task in the city." That's why we have "got to find the river," for it is there that our humanity awaits.

LYRICS
Hey now, little speedy head
The meter on the speedmeter says
You have to go to task in the city
Where people drown and people serve
Don't be shy. Your just dessert
Is only just light years to go

Me, my thoughts are flowers strewn
Ocean storm, bayberry moon
I have got to leave to find my way
Watch the road and memorize
This life that pass before my eyes
Nothing is going my way

The ocean is the river's goal
A need to leave the water knows
We're closer now than light years to go

I have got to find the river,
Bergamot and vetiver
Run through my head and fall away
Leave the road and memorize
This life that pass before my eyes
Nothing is going my way

There's no one left to take the lead,
But I tell you and you can see
We're closer now that light years to go
Pick up here and chase the ride
The river empties to the tide
Fall into the ocean

The river to the ocean goes
A fortune for the undertow
None of this is going my way
There is nothing left to throw
Of ginger, lemon, indigo
Coriander stem and rose of hay
Strength and courage overrides
The privileged and weary eyes
Of river poet search naivete
Pick up here and chase the ride
The river empties to the tide
All of this is coming your way

Click here for the official R.E.M. video.

Until a few years ago, R.E.M. rarely performed "Find the River." I met Peter Buck at party back in the early Aughts and asked why, since it is such a beautiful song. He agreed, and then told me that while "River" was challenging to play live, they were considering working it up for the next tour. "Find the River" has been on their playlist ever since, so maybe he listened to me!

Tommy James: Draggin' the Line

2010-02-04T17:00:00.000-08:00

SONG Draggin' the Line

WRITTEN BY Tommy James and Bob King

PERFORMED BY Tommy James

APPEARS ON Tommy James (1970); Tommy James and the Shondells Anthology (1989); other anthologies

NOTE "Draggin' the Line" reached #4 on the Billboard pop charts in August 1971 and stayed in the Top 40 for eleven weeks.

"Draggin' the Line" appeared originally on Tommy James' eponymous album, his first release after leaving the Shondells. (allmusic.com says that "Draggin' the Line" first appeared on James' album Christian of the World, but all other sources, including James himself, say otherwise.) James was a hit machine in the late 60s, with fifteen Top 40 hits (including three #1's) from 1966-69. These featured classic pop arrangements with dabs of white soul faintly reminiscent of The Rascals. As the decade wore on, touches of psychedelia appeared here and there; one song, "Crystal Blue Persuasion," is a barely concealed account of drug use.

Musically, "Draggin' the Line" is pure psychedelia. Its dreamy tempo, loping bass, and echoing chorus create a stoned ambiance augmented by puncturing horns. The use of brass is unusual in psychedelic music, but James recorded with horns for most of his career and deploys them to good effect here.

Lyrically, the song is a paean to the simple joys of life and the way that they alleviate the struggle of "Makin' a living the old hard way." For James, the pleasures of living are found in "snow and rain and bright sunshine" and even -- believe it or not "huggin' a tree." This, he sings, leads to "peace of mind" in a way that "the old hard way" cannot.

What, then, to make of the cryptic title? What does "draggin' the line" mean? James has never explained it, and passed on the opportunity to do in the liner notes to Anthology. Speculation ranges from an allusion to cocaine ("the line") to "draggin'" a cross. I suspect that it refers back to the opening lyric, with James' ominous delivery juxtaposed against the upbeat chorus singing of "peace of mind." It's as if draggin' the line and peace of mind are in eternal opposition, with the individual forced to do what he must to survive, a striving made worthwhile by appreciation and enjoyment of the natural world.

(For information on the origin of the phrase "tree hugger," click here.)

LYRICS
Makin' a living the old hard way
Takin' and giving day by day
I dig snow and rain and bright sunshine
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)

My dog Sam eats purple flowers
We ain't got much but what we got's ours
We dig snow and rain and bright sunshine
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)

I feel fine, I'm talkin' about peace of mind
I'm takin' my time, I'm gettin' the good sign
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)

Lovin' the free and feelin' spirit
Of huggin' a tree when you get near it
Diggin' the snow and rain and bright sunshine
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)

I feel fine, I'm talkin' about peace of mind
I'm takin' my time, I'm gettin' the good sign
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)
Draggin' the line (draggin' the line)

Live, in 2005:

R.E.M.'s cover, featuring a rare lead vocal by Mike Mills:

Young Love

2010-01-29T15:50:00.000-08:00

SONG Young Love

WRITTEN BY Ric Cartey & Carole Joyner

PERFORMED BY Tab Hunter, Sonny James, Chaim Tannenbaum, others

APPEARS ON Young Love: The Best of Tab Hunter (1995); Sonny James: 20 All-Time Greatest Hits (2002); The McGarrigle Hour (1998); many, many, many others

Ric Cartey wrote "Young Love" as vehicle for his band The Jiva-Tones. Released in November 1956, it failed to chart and might have headed to obscurity had not teen idol Tab Hunter and Sonny "The Country Gentleman" James both released cover versions in January 1957. Hunter's version reached #1 on multiple charts, while James hit #1 on the Billboard country chart for nine weeks running. With its operatic chorus and dreamier tempo, it's James' rendition and not Hunter's cooler version that has been sung in showers for over fifty years.

Certainly, "Young Love" is easy to parody and poke fun at: It's hopelessly overblown and melodramatic. And yet the song successfully captures the earnestness, histrionics, and charming naivete of teenage love, which has given it staying power. Anyone listening from the vantage point of middle age knows that there's not "just one love in this whole world." There may be one, there may be more than one, there may be none. This knowledge may not be part of "Young Love," but it's an important part of many listeners' connection to the song, eliciting senses of nostalgia or loss or regret.

There's nothing cerebral about young love, although it is divine ("The heavenly touch of your embrace"). But how much of this is real and how much is fantasy? The third verse ("Just one kiss from your sweet lips") implies that he hasn't yet received a kiss, that the love may be one-sided. Is he actually waiting for her to notice him and respond? Note the future tense of the next verse ("We will vow"), which seems to imply that nothing has happened yet. Is the singer staring longingly at the girl in the next desk, afraid to ask her out or admit his feelings? In this sense, "Young Love" conveys not only the intensity of teen love, with its "true emotion" and "deep devotion," but its uncertainties and insecurities as well. Perhaps the song resonates today because it gets at the truth of unrequited teen love as opposed to the idealized version it appears to celebrate on the surface.

Or perhaps it's both. Two certainties of adolescence are its incredible ups and downs and the intensity with which they are experienced. To the middle-aged listener, "Young Love" is a safe way of revisiting those days without having actually relive them. And to the teenager? Most of today's kids would no doubt scoff at the song. But once it was truth. Or should I say Truth.

LYRICS
They say for every boy and girl
There's just one love in this whole world
And I know that I found mine

The heavenly touch of your embrace
Tells me no one could take your place
Ever in my heart

Young love, first love
Filled with true devotion
Young love, our love
We share with deep emotion

Just one kiss from your sweet lips
Will tell me that your love is real
And I can feel that it's true

We will vow to one another
There will never be another
Love for you or for me

Young love, first love
Filled with true devotion
Young love, our love
We share with deep emotion

The heavenly touch of your embrace
Tells me no one could take your place
Ever in my heart

We will vow to one another
There will never be another
Love for you or for me

Young love, first love
Filled with true devotion
Young love, our love
We share with deep emotion

Sonny James, the Country Gentleman, performing "Young Love" in 1958:

Tab Hunter's 1957 hit single:

Click here and scroll down to hear Chaim Tannenbaum's lovely rendition from 1998's The McGarrigle Hour. That's Kate and Anna McGarrigle on backing vocals. Tannenbaum is a producer and musician who has played with the McGarrigles and Loudon Wainwright III.

T-Bone Burnett: Shut It Tight

2010-01-24T09:00:00.000-08:00

SONG Shut It Tight

WRITTEN BY T-Bone Burnett

PERFORMED BY T-Bone Burnett

APPEARS ON Proof Through the Night (1983, vinyl only), Twenty Twenty: The Essential T-Bone Burnett (2006)

Born in Missouri and raised in Fort Worth, T-Bone Burnett is best known today as a music producer and for his work with such film soundtracks as O Brother Where Art Thou? and Crazy Heart. But the protean 10-time Grammy winner is also a gifted songwriter and, in the Eighties, a prolific recording artist. His lyrics typically explore the challenges that modern life and technology impose on imperfect humans increasingly ill-equipped to deal with them. Burnett often turns to the redemptive themes of love and faith, although his writing has become increasingly pessimistic. Even so, Burnett holds on to the possibility of inherently broken people finding a measure of fulfillment by the simple act of turning to each other.

Burnett first came to my attention back in the mid-Seventies as rhythm guitarist for Bob Dylan's Rolling Thunder Revue. The unusual name stuck with me; when rummaging through the Austin Public Library's record collection a few years later, I came across his Truth Decay album and checked it out. The album immediately resonated with me, especially the lovely, hopeful ballad "Power of Love." He followed Truth Decay with the highly regarded EP Trap Door, then, in 1983, the full-length Proof Through the Night.

Proof garnered excellent reviews, but Burnett didn't like the production foisted on him by Warner Bros, which probably explains why it has never been released on CD. He reproduced the six songs from it that appear on the excellent Twenty Twenty retrospective, among them "Shut It Tight," the album's best song. "Shut It Tight" covers familiar Burnett territory with a deftness that blends a hard edge with sympathy and defiance. The juxtaposition of opposites ("I do the very things I hate to do") reveals a confused, sometimes inept man who "stumble[s] like a drunk along this crazy path I walk." In the end, no matter how imperfect he may be and no matter how bewildered by life, he's going to hold on because it's what he's given and perhaps because there's a certain dignity and satisfaction attained by fighting until and even after there's not a breath left to draw.

With "Shut It Tight," Burnett creates an everyman out of his own self-doubt and struggles, a figure with whom anyone who admits to his or her own humanity can identify. There's not a songwriter out there who hasn't attempted this at one time or another. That T-Bone Burnett succeeded demonstrates why he remains one of the best.

LYRICS
I find it hard sometimes to say the way that I feel
I do the very things I hate to do
I act like a child and I'm afraid of what is real
And so I try to cover up the truth

I stumble like a drunk along this crazy path I walk
I have a hundred thousand questions too
I'll go to any length to prove that nothing is my fault
Then later on I will deny the proof

I don't like to win but then again I hate to lose
And in between is something I can't stand
I don't care what you think and I hope that you approve
I am just an ordinary man

Sometimes I want to stop and crawl back into the womb
And sometimes I cannot tell wrong from right
But I ain't gonna quit until I'm laid in my tomb
And even then they better shut it tight

Witchi Tai To - Jim Pepper

2010-01-19T19:31:00.000-08:00

SONG Witchi Tai To

WRITTEN BY Jim Pepper

PERFORMED BY Jim Pepper

APPEARS ON Pepper's Pow Wow (1971)

This song literally changed my world; when I first heard it back in the early '70s it stopped me in my tracks. I had never heard Native American singing before that, and my knowledge of jazz was pretty much limited to big band and high profile types like Louis Armstrong; I hadn't yet discovered the world of fusion jazz from the likes of Miles and Coltrane and Don Cherry. This song introduced me to all of that, and my musical world hasn't been the same since.

Jim Pepper (1941 - 1992) was of Native American descent, from the Plains tribes of the Kaw and the Cree. He came from a family of "road men", the peyote priests of the Native American Church. He was also a jazz saxophonist, playing primarily tenor sax (but also soprano sax and flute), and as such he was one of the pioneers of fusion jazz, mixing rock, r&b, and jazz into a whole new sound. He played with the likes of Larry Coryell, Ornette Coleman, and Don Cherry. His playing was soulful, very much influenced by r&b, and his tone was incisive and penetrating. His style influenced later saxophonists like Jan Garbarek and David Sanborn. He died in 1992 of lymphoma.

In the mid '60s, encouraged by Coleman and Cherry, Pepper began experimenting with mixing Native American music and jazz, with interesting results. "Witchi Tai To" is a prime example of that blending, taking a peyote song he'd learned from his grandfather and putting it in a jazz setting. The song first turned up in 1969 on an album by the band he was playing with at the time, Everything Is Everything. But it's the 1971 version from his own solo album Pepper's Pow Wow that's the definitive version, starting with the peyote chant plain and unadorned, and slowly segueing into Pepper's beautiful, flowing sax line that sets the tone for the rest of the tune. In a way the song is anthemic, especially the parts based on that sax melody; you can imagine stadiums full of people singing that line with great power. Yet the song remains very simple in all it's elements. It's that simplicity and the spiritual intent behind the words, and the spiritual intent that fuels Pepper's performance, that gives the song it's power. The Kaw words are untranslatable now - Pepper said his grandfather never did tell him what they meant in English - but he sings them anyway, and adds English lyrics which emphasize the roots in the peyote ritual, especially speaking of the Water Spirit, who carries the visions brought by the peyote.

Lyrics

Witchi tai to, gimee rah 
Hoe rah neeko, hoe rah neeko 
Hey ney, hey ney, no way  

Witchi tai to, gimee rah 
Hoe rah neeko, hoe rah neeko 
Hey ney, hey ney, no way  

Water Spirit feelin' springin' round my head 
Makes me feel glad that I'm not dead  

Witchi tai to, gimee rah 
Hoe rah neeko, hoe rah neeko 
Hey ney, hey ney, no way  

Witchi tai to, gimee rah 
Hoe rah neeko, hoe rah neeko 
Hey ney, hey ney, no way

This song changed my world because it introduced me to a new way of hearing music. It introduced a new style of jazz I'd never known before, and it introduced me to music outside the Western tradition. I listen to a lot of Native American musicians these days - Primeaux and Mike, Ulale, R. Carlos Nakai, Douglas Spotted Eagle (I just did a Sight & Sound post on my own blog which includes a piece by Doug that incorporates elements of the Diné [Navajo] Beauty Way ceremony), and others - as well as music from other parts of the world, both indigenous artists like Yousou N'Dour and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Western "world fusion" types like Peter Gabriel. All because one day in 1971 or '72 somebody dropped a dime in the jukebox and played "Witchi Tai To" and stopped me dead in my tracks.

This video isn't much visually, just the album cover from Comin' and Goin' (a later compilation album), but the music is that definitive version from the 1971 album. The song has been played by others - Brewer and Shipley, Ralph Towner (both with and without Oregon), Jan Garbarek - but never with the power and spirit of Jim Pepper. Enjoy!

Truck Driving Man

2010-01-17T13:26:00.000-08:00

SONG Truck Driving Man

WRITTEN BY Terry Fell

PERFORMED BY Terry Fell (1954), George Hamilton IV (1965), Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen (1972), Red Steagall (1976), many others

APPEARS ON B-side to "Don't Drop It" (Fell); Fort Worth, Dallas or Houston (Hamilton); Hot Licks, Cold Steel & Trucker's Favorites (Cody); Lone Star Beer and Bob Wills Music (Steagall)

When one-hit wonder Terry Fell exulted in the 1954 success of "Don't Drop It," he couldn't know that its B-side would go on to become one of the most-performed songs in country music history, a staple of bar bands from Maine to California. Indeed, the first time I heard "Truck Driving Man," it was by that greatest of bar bands, Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen. While their version was a far cry from Fell's straight ahead rockabilly original, the Commander and the boys delivered it with their signature coupling of ironic vocals and crack musicianship. George Hamilton IV and Red Steagall charted with the song, both delivering polished country arrangements. Buck Owens, like Fell and Merle Haggard a product of Southern California's post-war country music scene, performed the song featuring his inimitable vocals and rousing instrumental breaks.

It's easy to understand why "Truck Driving Man" became a staple. It's a light-hearted romp about the romance of the road that tells its story through such icons as a road house, a cup of coffee, an anonymous waitress, a juke box, and, of course, a semi-truck. It invokes Texas, that most iconic of states, and San Antonio, Texas' most iconic city. Anyone can listen to this song and imagine themselves at Hamburger Dan's, hastily downing fast food and coffee, pausing to listen to a self-referential song on the juke, and boasting to the waitress, all before climbing back aboard a semi and heading down the road. The only mystery about "Truck Driving Man" is why Terry Fell thought it should be a B-side.

There are many great truck driving songs; "I'm Coming Home," "Looking at the World Through a Windshield," and "Semi Truck" all come to mind. The Marshall Tucker band took the genre beyond country and rockabilly with their southern rock classic "24 Hours at a Time." Performers such as Red Simpson and former Airman Bill Kirchen have literally made their livings writing and playing truck songs. There's even a web site called Virtual Truck Route dedicated to trucker music, movies, radio, and television. All of this could well have happened without "Truck Driving Man." But it's nice to know that such a great song is at the head of it all.

LYRICS
I stopped at a road house in Texas
A little place called Hamburger Dan's
I heard that old jukebox a-playin'
A song 'bout a truck driving man

Pour me another cup of coffee
For it is the best in the land
I'll put a nickel in the jukebox
And play The Truck Driving Man

The waitress then brought me some coffee
I thanked her and called he back again
I said "That old song sure does fit me
'Cause I am a truck driving man"

Pour me another cup of coffee
For it is the best in the land
I'll put a nickel in the jukebox
And play The Truck Driving Man

I stepped back on board my old semi
And then like a flash I was gone
I got them old truck wheels a-rolling
I'm on my way to San Antone

Here are versions of "Truck Driving Man" beginning with Terry Fell's original and proceeding through George Hamilton IV, Buck Owens, Commander Cody, and Red Steagall.

Here's a pointer to the audio by Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen. Scroll down and select the song.

200 More Miles

2010-01-15T04:49:00.000-08:00

SONG: 200 More Miles

BY: Michael Timmins

PERFORMED BY: Cowboy Junkies

APPEARS ON: The Trinity Session (RCA)

I don’t remember all the details of how I came to learn about & for a time, become obsessed with, the music of the Cowboy Junkies. It was well over 20 years ago now, & a very eventful time in my life—a time I’ve yet to really resolve, a time that focused many of the creative tensions I still work from & at times resist.

This is all to say that things I knew in that time, & that defined it for me, continue to resonate when I encounter them. This is true, for instance, of Big Star’s music, which I wrote about earlier on Just a Song; Big Star, & especially Big Star’s 3rd, was a major portion of my life’s soundtrack at that time. The Cowboy Junkies were another significant strain.

For those of you who don’t know, the Cowboy Junkies hail from Toronto, & like another Canadian group, the Band, they’ve always impressed me with their ability to both inhabit & re-shape a U.S. Americana sound; when they perform songs by Patsy Cline or Hank Williams—or Lou Reed for that matter—the music becomes at once familiar & also rich & strange.

The core of the Cowboy Junkies is the Timmins family—brothers Michael (guitar), Peter (drums), & Margo (vocals). Their sound can only be described as haunting—particularly Margo Timmins’ singing, which only can be described as a contradiction in terms: a sort of laid-back intensity. On their second album, The Trinity Session, the sound is enhanced by some beautiful pedal steel courtesy of Kim Deschamps & some fine harmonica work by Steve Shearer. The album was recorded in Toronto’s Church of the Holy Trinity using a single mic!

Michael Timmins’s song “200 More Miles,” as interpreted by Margo, is a night-sea journey by car across a quintessential American landscape. The melody & harmonies & lyrics all conjure up a road trip that is ultimately transformative—& what larger 20th century American myth is there? The poetry of Timmins’ lyrics stands by itself—the truth of the road, which fades into the distance & also appears, distant & strange on the forward horizon, the promise—as yet (or ever?) unattained of reaching the point that will transmute everything & redeem the past….

There are a couple of obscure references in the verse about Nashville: the “lighter in a case for all to see” & “in the corner stands a guitar/& lonesome words scrawled in a drunken hand.” This refers to the Country Music Hall of Fame, where Patsy Cline’s cigarette lighter is on display, as well as Hank Williams’ guitar & some of this handwritten songs.

I remember a trip of my own in 1988 from Charlottesville, VA to Davis, CA (almost, but not quite, with a detour to Los Angeles), setting out in the late afternoon & driving past Knoxville in the night, this song in my head & on the tape player, the words echoing with my thoughts. When I hear them now, I hear those same echoes…. hope you enjoy this beautiful & evocative piece of music.

200 More Miles

Atlanta's a distant memory
Montgomery a recent blur
And Tulsa burns on the desert floor
Like a signal fire
I got Willie on the radio
A dozen things on my mind
And number one is fleshing out
These dreams of mine

I've got 200 more miles of rain asphalt and light
Before I sleep
But there'll be no warm sheets or welcoming arms
To fall into tonight

In Nashville there is a lighter in a case for all to see
It speaks of dreams and heartaches left unsung
And in the corner stands a guitar
And lonesome words scrawled in a drunken hand
I'm travelling paths travelled hard before
And I'm beginning to understand

I've got 200 more miles of rain asphalt and light
Before I sleep
But there'll be no warm sheets or welcoming arms
To fall into tonight

They say that I am crazy
My life wasting on this road
That time will find my dreams
Scattered dead and cold
But I heard there is a light
Drawing me to reach an end
And when I reach there, I'll turn back
And you and I can begin again

I've got 200 more miles of rain asphalt and light
Before I sleep
But there'll be no warm sheets or welcoming arms
To fall into tonight

I've got 200 more miles of rain asphalt and light
Before I sleep
But there'll be no warm sheets or welcoming arms
To fall into tonight

Atlanta's a distant memory
Montgomery a recent blur
Tulsa burns on the desert floor
like a signal fire.