The Last Thing On My Mind- The Songs of Tom Paxton

CD REVIEW

The Greatest Hits of Tom Paxton, Tom Paxton, 1991

If I were to ask someone, in the year 2008, to name a male folk singer from the 1960’s I would assume that if I were to get an answer to that question that the name would be Bob Dylan. And that would be a good and appropriate choice. One can endlessly dispute whether or not Dylan was (or wanted to be) the voice of the Generation of ’68 but in terms of longevity and productivity he fits the bill as a known quality. However, there were a slew of other male folk singers who tried to find their niche in the folk milieu and who, like Dylan, today continue to produce work and to perform. The artist under review Tom Paxton is one such singer/songwriter.

The following is a question that I have been posing in reviewing the work of a number of male folk singers from the 1960’s and it is certainly an appropriate question to ask of Tom Paxton as well. I do not know if Tom Paxton, like his contemporary Bob Dylan, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. A decent acoustic guitar but a very interesting (and strong) voice to fit the lyrics of love, hope, longing and sometimes just sheer whimsy, as in the children’s songs, that he was singing about at the time. I would venture however, given what I know of his politics and the probably influence that his good friend the late folksinger and historian Dave Van Ronk had on him, that the answer above is probably no.

As for the songs themselves in this greatest hits compilation, a format that never really give an artist’s full range of hits and that is the case here, we get a fair range of what the good Mr. Paxton produced in the old days. Ramblin’ Boy and Bottle of Wine are evocative of hobo days here. Some peace songs (Peace Will Come, Jimmy with an extremely powerful anti-war message), some songs of love (Katy) and the above-mentioned children’s songs (Going to the Zoo). And, of course, his 'theme song' and the one that he has stated that he never gets tired of playing, The Last Thing On My Mine. And I never get tired of listening to.

***Have You Ever Seen A .. The Songs of Jesse Winchester

CD REVIEW

Live From Mountain Stage, Jesse Winchester, 2001

If I were to ask someone, in the year 2008, to name a male folk singer from the 1960’s I would assume that if I were to get an answer to that question that the name would be Bob Dylan. And that would be a good and appropriate choice. One can endlessly dispute whether or not Dylan was (or wanted to be) the voice of the Generation of ’68 but in terms of longevity and productivity he fits the bill as a known quality. However, there were a slew of other male folk singers who tried to find their niche in the folk milieu and who, like Dylan, today continue to produce work and to perform. The artist under review Jesse Winchester is one such singer/songwriter.

The following is a question that I have been posing in reviewing the work of a number of male folk singers from the 1960’s and it is certainly an appropriate question to ask of Jesse as well. I do not know if Jesse Winchester, like his contemporary Bob Dylan, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. A decent acoustic guitar but a very interesting voice to fit the lyrics of love, hope and longing that he was singing about at the time. Of course, the need to go to Canada as a draft exile from the Vietnam War perhaps cut across cut across some of those youthful dreams.

As for the songs themselves, many that evokes the Southern roots from which Winchester came. Eualie is evocative of that. Other nice touches are That’s What Makes You Strong and his patented Brand New Tennessee Waltz. But the one I have always liked personally, and here my roots show, is Yankee Lady. Hell, I once had a relationship with a woman like the one he describes in that little song. Didn’t we all (male or female), back then.

*A Folksinger (Oops) Jazz Vocalist Struts His Stuff- A Dave Van Ronk Encore

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Dave Van Ronk performing "Hesitation Blues"

CD REVIEW

Somebody Else, Not Me, Dave Van Ronk, 1970

If I were to ask someone, in the year 2008, to name a male folk singer from the 1960’s I would assume that if I were to get an answer to that question that the name would be Bob Dylan. And that would be a good and appropriate choice. One can endlessly dispute whether or not Dylan was (or wanted to be) the voice of the Generation of ’68 but in terms of longevity and productivity he fits the bill as a known quality. However, there were a slew of other male folk singers who tried to find their niche in the folk milieu and who, like Dylan, today continue to produce work and to perform. The artist under review Dave Van Ronk is one such singer/songwriter.

The following is a question that I have been posing in reviewing the work of a number of male folk singers from the 1960’s and it is certainly an appropriate question to ask of Dave Van Ronk as well. I do not know if Dave Van Ronk, like his near contemporary Bob Dylan, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. A decent acoustic guitar but a very interesting (and strong baritone) voice to fit the lyrics of love, hope, longing and sheer whimsy as he barreled through the traditional folk catalogue he was singing about at the time. I would venture however, given what I know of his politics and the probably influence that his deep sense of folk history had on him (as well as other musical influences), that the answer above is probably no.

As for the songs themselves. "Oh, Hannah" (which I believe he wrote) stands out as a tribute to traditional shout and response music. His friend Tom Paxton’s "Did You Hear John Hurt?" about that legendary country blues singer is another stand out. His voice carries the "Casey Jones" tune with gusto. "Sportin’ Life" is his little tip of the hat to his jazz roots. And "Pastures of Plenty" a tip to Woody Guthrie (as well as Bob Dylan's "Song to Woody"). Just a nice selection that will have you screaming for more. Do it.


"Cocaine Blues"

Every time my baby and me we go uptown
Police come and they knock me down
Cocaine, all around my brain

Hey baby, you better come here quick
This old cocaine's about to make
Cocaine, all around my brain

Yonder come my baby she's dressed in red
She's got a shotgun, says she's gonna kill me dead
Cocaine, all around my brain

Hey baby, you better come here quick
This old cocaine's about to make me sick
Cocaine, all around my brain

You take Sally and I'll take Sue
Ain't no difference between the two
Cocaine, all around my brain

Hey baby, you better come here quick
This old cocaine's about to make me sick
Cocaine, all around my brain

Cocaine's for horses and it's not for men
Doctor says it kill you but it doesn't say when
Cocaine, all around my brain

Hey baby, you better come here quick
This old cocaine's about to make me sick
Cocaine, all around my brain

Hey baby, you better come here quick
This old cocaine's about to make me sick
Cocaine, all around my brain




COME ALL YE FAIR AND TENDER LADIES
(A.P. Carter)


The Carter Family - 1932
The Kingston Trio - 1961
Osborne Brothers - 1962
Anita Carter - 1963
Glen Campbell - 1963
The Browns - 1964
George Hamilton IV - 1964
Makem & Clancy - 1964
Clive Palmer - 1967
The Manhattan Transfer - 1969
Dave Van Ronk - 1969
The Hillmen - 1970
Herb Pedersen - 1977
Charlie McCoy - 1978
Mary McCaslin - 1981
Gene Clark & Carla Olson - 1987
The Rankin Family - 1992
The Whites - 2000

Also recorded by: June Carter; Rosanne Cash; Merle Travis;
Bread & Bones; Cherish The Ladies; Golden Delicious; Danú;
Murray Head; Country Gentlemen; Pete Seeger; Ian & Sylvia;
George Elliott; Black Twigs; Craig Herbertson; Tim O'Brien;
The Peasall Sisters:........and others.


Come all ye fair and tender ladies
Take warning how you court young men
They're like a bright star on a cloudy morning
They will first appear and then they're gone

They'll tell to you some loving story
To make you think that they love you true
Straightway they'll go and court some other
Oh that's the love that they have for you

Do you remember our days of courting
When your head lay upon my breast
You could make me believe with the falling of your arm
That the sun rose in the West

I wish I were some little sparrow
And I had wings and I could fly
I would fly away to my false true lover
And while he'll talk I would sit and cry

But I am not some little sparrow
I have no wings nor can I fly
So I'll sit down here in grief and sorrow
And try to pass my troubles by

I wish I had known before I courted
That love had been so hard to gain
I'd of locked my heart in a box of golden
And fastened it down with a silver chain

Young men never cast your eye on beauty
For beauty is a thing that will decay
For the prettiest flowers that grow in the garden
How soon they'll wither, will wither and fade away


******


ALTERNATE VERSION:


Come all ye fair and tender ladies
Take warning how you court young men
They're like a star on summer morning
They first appear and then they're gone

They'll tell to you some loving story
And make you think they love you so well
Then away they'll go and court some other
And leave you there in grief to dwell

I wish I was on some tall mountain
Where the ivy rocks are black as ink
I'd write a letter to my lost true lover
Whose cheeks are like the morning pink

For love is handsome, love is charming
And love is pretty while it's new
But love grows cold as love grows old
And fades away like the mornin' dew
And fades away like the mornin' dew

Soul of A City Boy- Jesse Colin Young

CD REVIEW

Soul of A City Boy, Jesse Colin Young, 1964

If I were to ask someone, in the year 2008, to name a male folk singer from the 1960’s I would assume that if I were to get an answer to that question that the name would be Bob Dylan. And that would be a good and appropriate choice. One can endlessly dispute whether or not Dylan was (or wanted to be) the voice of the Generation of ’68 but in terms of longevity and productivity he fits the bill as a known quality. However, there were a slew of other male folk singers who tried to find their niche in the folk milieu and who, like Dylan, today continue to produce work and to perform. The artist under review Jesse Colin Young is one such singer/songwriter.

The following is a question that I have been posing in reviewing the work of a number of male folk singers from the 1960’s and it is certainly an appropriate question to ask of Jesse as well. I do not know if Jesse Colin Young, like his contemporary Bob Dylan whom he followed in moving from acoustic folk to folk rock, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. A fair to middling acoustic guitar but a very interesting and mournful voice in the early acoustic days.

Moreover, Jesse set himself, more than others of the time, to speak to urban concerns and longings. I can remember being mesmerized by the effect of Four In The Morning (usually listening to it at that time, as well). Or the longing behind Suzanne and Black Eyed Susan. Or the late night whiff of whiskey in the air (Yes, I know we were underage at the time but let us let that pass) with the forgetfulness of Rye Whiskey. Yes, there were some tools and talent there. People may be more familiar with the latter electric rock material of the Youngbloods days but give a listen to Jesse, back in the day.

The Greatest Hits of Jesse Colin Young, Jesse Colin Young, 1991

The following is a question that I have been posing in reviewing the work of a number of male folk singers from the 1960’s and it is certainly an appropriate question to ask of Jesse as well. I do not know if Jesse Colin Young, like his contemporary Bob Dylan whom he followed in moving from acoustic folk to electric folk rock, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. A fair to middling acoustic guitar but a very interesting and mournful voice in the early acoustic days. Then the switch to electric folk rock and beyond, and the joining up with the Youngbloods that forms the core of this greatest hits compilations.


Jesse Colin Young and the Youngbloods were one of the signature groups of the 1960’s not so much for their sound which was pretty much a familiar one from the period but the lyrics and the politics. Songs like Get Together, Sunlight, Darkness, Song for Juli and some others created a mood of hope (sometimes with dope) that got a number of people through the hard times of growing up in that time. Personally, though as much as I liked some of what the Youngbloods did I still go back to that old Jesse classic from the acoustic days Four In The Morning- that’s the ticket. If you need to hear it all though, this is a good bet.

*Killin' The Blues- The Blue Folk World Of Chris Smither

CD Review

Train Home, Chris Smither, 2004

If I were to ask someone, in the year 2008, to name a male folk singer from the 1960's I would assume that if I were to get an answer to that question that the name would be Bob Dylan. And that would be a good and appropriate choice. One can endlessly dispute whether or not Dylan was (or wanted to be) the voice of the Generation of '68 but in terms of longevity and productivity he fits the bill as a known quality. However, there were a slew of other male folk singers who tried to find their niche in the folk milieu and who, like Dylan, today continue to produce work and to perform. The artist under review Chris Smither is one such singer/songwriter.

I do not know if Chris Smither, like his contemporary Bob Dylan, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. He plays that signature blue guitar for all it is worth on such covers as "Crocodile Man" yet can turn it down several notches for a song like "Never Needed You" and then goes softer on reflective songs like "Kind Woman". Moreover he is as capable as a songwriter as any of writing of longing, lost love, thoughts of mortality and...being stupid in the world. Witness "Let It Go" on that last point. Then turn it up a notch with a bittersweet song like "Lola" (males-haven't we all had our Rock and Roll Lolas-or wanted to). As then, as if to pay homage to the icon of the generation, a nod to Bob with a shortened version of the Dylan classic "Desolation Row". Yes, Chris had the tools to go out and slay the dragons of the folk world. This is his five star work. That work may not be well known outside the precincts of the graying folk world, but it should be.

It Ain't Easy, Chris Smither, 1993

I do not know if Chris Smither, like his contemporary Bob Dylan, started out wanting to be the king of the hill among male folk singers but he certainly had some things going for him. He plays that signature blue guitar for all it is worth on Rock and Roll Doctor yet can turn it down several notches for a song like "Killin’ The Blues" (a song that he wished that he had written and I agree) and then goes softer on reflective songs like "Take It All". Moreover he is as capable as a songwriter as any of writing of longing, lost love, thoughts of mortality and…being stupid in the world. Witness "Memphis, In The Meantime" on that last point. Then turn it up a notch with a bittersweet song like "Happier Blue". Yes, Chris had the tools to go out and slay the dragons of the folk world. That work may not be well known outside the precincts of the graying folk world, but it should be.

Lyrics to Happier Blue :

I was sad, and then I loved you,
It took my breath
Now I think you love me, and
It scares me to death,
‘Cause now I lie awake and wonder, I worry,
I think about losin' you
I don't care what you say
Maybe I was happier blue
I don't care what you say
Maybe I was happier blue

Justice is a lady,
Blind, with a scale,
And a big letter-opener.
She's been readin' my mail
I don't know why this should shame me,
But it does, somehow
I don't care what you say,
She don't look like a lady now.
I don't care what you say,
She don't look like a lady now

I believe in heavy thinking,
I believe in heavy sound,
I believe in heavy images
To hold it all down.
Light as a feather in spite of me
I don't care what you say
Faith is not a guarantee
I don't care what you say
Faith is not a guarantee

Did you think I didn't know that?
You might be right.
I swear I will forget it if it
Takes all night.
I never needed nothin' like I ever needed
Knowin' I needed you
I don't care what you say
None of this is nothin' new
I don't care what you say
None of this is nothin' new

Lyrics to Killing The Blues :

Oh, leaves were falling

They're just like embers

In colors red and gold they set us on fire

Burning just like moonbeams in our eyes

Someone said they saw me

They said I was swinging the world by the tail

Bouncing over the white clouds

That I was killing the blues

Just killing the blues

Well, I am guilty of something

That I hope you never do

'Cause nothing is sadder

Than losing yourself in love

Someone said they saw me

They said I was swinging the world by the tail

Bouncing over the white clouds

Just killing the blues

Just killing the blues

Oh, when you asked me

Just to leave you

And set out on my own to find what I needed

You asked me to find what I already had

Someone said they saw me

They said I was swinging the world by the tail

Bouncing over the white clouds

I was killing the blues

Just killing the blues

Someone said they saw me

They said I swinging the world by the tail

Bouncing over the white clouds

I was killing the blues

Been killing the blues

Just killing the blues


"Train Home"

Take a look inside,
I got nothin' left to hide,
take me as I am,
not what I wanna be.
The why we'll never know, we passed that long ago.
Is and was is all we're ever gonna be.

He's almost shade, down by the river,
feels a breath that makes him shiver,
takes a breath and makes a dive alone.
But the dead don't get no vacation,
down in that subway station,
the only break they take is to the bone.
They waitin' on a train to take 'em home.

I don't think I see much of anything for me
in visions of the past or the ever-after.
Now is what can be,
all the rest is wait and see,
those prophets never hear that cosmic laughter.

And gypsies in their wagons rollin'
never hear those death bells tollin',
never take no notice of the tone.
But I do, and my pulse beats quicker,
scornful laughs and knowing snickers,
stop my heart and sink it like a stone.
And I'm waitin' on a train to take me home.

This ain't what it seems, it's not the stuff of dreams,
nothing is as clear as this confusion.
The somewhat welcome news
is there is no way to lose,
because what isn't real is genuine illusion.

And it's all about that graveyard dancin',
some sit still, some still prancin',
some get caught between them
in a zone where there's nothin' left to give 'em cover,
they can't even see each other,
they just step and stumble on their own.
They waitin' on a train to take 'em home.

They waitin' on a train,
I'm waitin' on a train,
we all waitin' on a train to take us home


"Lola"

Lookin' for my Lola, she's drinkin' rum and Coca Cola,
Smokes big cigars,
she drives big cars around.
Folks say she's gonna reach the top,
but she says that's just her first stop.

I know she ain't a good 'un,
whatcha bet she wouln' lose much sleep
if I should die today.
She says the love ain't cheap, but the pain is free
and I say, 'But that sounds good to me!'
She's got hooks to make a fish think twice,
but I ain't no fish.
I'll pay any price.
If I think at all, I think, 'This feels nice!'

Lookin' for my Lola, what if I'd 'a told ya
she don't even know she hurts me so.
She says 'I don't hate you, it ain't that big a deal,
you don't even figure in the way I feel.' but
don't think she feels too much at all.
I said 'Have a heart', she told me to my face,
'What little heart I got is in the wrong place.'

Lookin' for my Lola, she's a little rock 'n roller,
party down, paint the town again.
She drinks too much, she keeps it hid,
everybody says she's a hell of a kid,
but she ain't no kid when she's cuttin' me apart.
That's OK, I told her from the start,
'Don't stop 'fore you get my heart.'

Lookin' for my Lola, I barely got to know ya.
For all I know, there ain't a lot to know.
Either I gave up or she let me go,
how I got away I'll never know.
My life should be better, and it's not.
I know you think that she was pretty bad,
I wouldn't know, she was all I had


"Never Needed It More"

If love is the meal for the hunger you feel,
call for the witer.
We're all gonna feed on whatever
we need sooner or later.
I just stay out of my way.
I call for the check when I'm ready to pay.
The bill's for the faith or the will,
whichever is greater.

CHORUS Tell me how does it happen?
I can't tell you for sure,
but I don't think I ever needed it more

Cuz now it's two for the show and
they all wanna how
did you meet her?
I think it was luck,
she fell off a truck,
from there it was follow the leader.
I saw her walkin' alone,
I treated her nice and she followed me home.
There was nobody there to tell me
that I couldn't keep her.

CHORUS (variant) Tell me how does it happen?
I can't tell you for sure,
but I don't shut my tail in the door any more.

CHORUS

You know it's only a scene,
the play is the dream,
the bigger the better.
What can I say,
she's writin' the play and I'm gonna let her.
I just believe in the role.
I open wide and it swallows me whole.
The take is the give,
the give is the way that I get her.

*"The Long Goodbye"- Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe-Style

Click On Title To Link To Raymond Chandler Web page.

BOOK/DVD REVIEW

The Long Goodbye, novel written by Raymond Chandler, movie directed by Robert Altman, starring Elliot Gould, 1972

Phillip Marlowe, Raymond Chandler's classic noir hard-boiled private detective forever literarily associated with Los Angeles and its means streets is right at home here in his search, at the request of a friend, a ne'e-do-wll friend as it turns out, for the inevitable `missing woman' ("dame", "frill", "frail", for the non-politically correct types) who 'conveniently' turns up dead. There is plenty of sparse but functional dialogue, physical action and a couple of plot twists, particularly around the identity of the above-mentioned `dame' and the motives behind the involvement of various wealthy Californians who have much to gain by a cover-up.

Have no fear however the intrepid Marlowe will figure it out in the end and some kind of 'rough' justice will prevail. At this point in the Chandler Marlowe series our shamus has been around the block more than a few times but he still is punching away at the 'bad guys' and the absurdity of the modern world. How does this one compare with the other Marlowe volumes? Give me those background oil derricks churning out the wealth while looking for General Sternwood's Rusty Regan in The Big Sleep or the run down stucco flats in some shady places in pursuit of Moose's Velma in Farewell, My Lovely any day. Nevertheless, as always with Chandler, you get high literature in a plebeian package.

There have been many cinematic Phillip Marlowes from Bogart and Powell to Elliot Gould in this Altman production. They reflect their director's take on the times and on the character of Marlowe himself. The world-weary but virtuous Marlowe of the 1940's has been replaced in this film by a decidedly out-of-tune Marlowe who could realistically be arrested for vagrancy any minute in the up-scale and upward striving Los Angeles of 'new' California. Fortunately Robert Altman can make it work without being too syrupy. In other less capable hands, and with an actor other than Elliot Gould who sets the standard for all post-Bogart modern Marlowes (except probably the incessant chain-smoking) giving his all to the role, that is an iffy proposition. In any case the days of Chandler's, Cain's and Hammett's intrepid California characters are long gone. But, thankfully, at least not on film. This one will join that crowd.

The Grapes of Wrath-John Steinbeck Unchained

BOOK REVIEW

The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck, Random House, New York, 1998

Oddly, I first read John Steinbeck's classic tale of the 1930's depression, Grapes of Wrath, as a result of listening to Woody Guthrie's also classic Dustbowl Ballads. In that album Woody sings/narrates the trials and tribulations of the Joad family as they got the hell out of drought-stricken Oklahoma and headed for the land of milk and honey in California. After listening to that rendition I wanted to get the full story and Steinbeck did not fail me. His tightly-woven story stands as a very strong exposition of the plight of rural Americans as they tried to make sense of a vengeful God, unrelenting Nature and the down-side of the American dream. For those who have seem Walker Evans's and other photographers pictures of the Okies, Arkies, etc. of the period this is the story behind those forlorn, if stoic, faces.

The story line is actually very simple. The land in Oklahoma was played out, the banks nevertheless were pressing for payment or threatening foreclosure and for the Joads, as for others, time had run out. In the classic American tradition they pulled up stakes and headed west to get a new start. With great hopes and no few illusions they set out as a family for the sunny and plentiful California of their dreams. Their struggle along the way is a modern day version of the struggles of the old Westward heading wagon trains-including the causalities. But, that is not the least of it.

Apparently they had not read Frederick Jackson Turner's thesis that the frontier was gone- the land was taken. The bulk of the story centers of what happened when they get to the golden land-and it is not pretty. Day labor, work camps, strike action, murder, and mayhem-you know, California, the real California of the day. Not the Chamber of Commerce version. In short, as Woody sang, no hope if you ain't got the do re mi.

Grapes of Wrath was made into a starkly beautiful film starring a young Henry Fonda as Tom Joad. On a day when you are not depressed it is a film you want to see, if only for its photographic quality. So here is the list. Listen to Woody sing the tale. Watch Henry Fonda as he acts it out. And by all means read Steinbeck. He had an ear for the 1930's struggle of the Okies and their ilk as they hit California. What happened to those people later and their influence on California culture and what happened to those who didn't make it are chronicled by others like Howard Fast, Hunter Thompson and Nelson Algren. But for this period your man is Steinbeck.