Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown performing "our Little Town"
Solid Heart: The In-Harmony Benefit Concert, Greg Brown with Dave Carter and Tracey Grammer, In-Harmony, 1999
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding in this benefit concert recording for In-Harmony, a foster care program, are the title track, “Solid Heart”, the old stand-by “Further In”, the comic, nicely paced, “I Must Be In Oregon”, and a great “rockin’ cover of the old country bluesman Mississippi Fred McDowell’s tune. “You’ve Got To Move” (also covered by The Rolling Stones). The late Dave Carter and Tracey Grammer are nice additions on a couple of tracks, especially the old madman Carter’s “Don’t Tread On Me”. They are worthy of separate review of their own work.
Cheapest Kind
We travelled Kansas and Missouri spreading the good news
A preachers family in our pressed clothes and worn out polished shoes
Momma fixed us soup beans and served them up by candlelight
She tucked us in at night
Oh she worried through many a sleepless night
Dad and me would stop by the store when the day was done
Standin at the counter he said "I forgot to get the peaches, son."
"What kind should I get?" I said to him there where he stood in line
And he answered just like I knew he would "Go and get the cheapest kind"
[chorus:]
But the love, the love, the love
It was not the cheapest kind
It was rich as, rich as, rich as ,rich as, rich as
Any you could ever find
I see the ghost of my grandfather from time to time
In some big city amongst the people all dressed so fine
He usually has a paper bag clutched real tight
His work clothes are dirty
He don't look at nobody in the eye
Oh he was little, he was wirey, and he was lots of fun
He was rocky as Ozark dirt that he come from
And they was raisin seven children on a little farm
In not the best of times
The few things that they got from the store
Was always just the cheapest kind
[repeat chorus]
Fancy houses with wealthy poeple I don't understand
I always wish I could live holdin on to my grandpa's hand
So he could lead me down that gravel road somewhere
To that little house where there's just enough supper
For whosever there
My people's hands and faces they are so dear to me
All I have to do is close my eyes and I see `em all so near to me
I have to cry I have to laugh
When I think of all the things that have drawn those lines
So many years of makin do with the cheapest kind
[repeat chorus twice]
Our Little Town
Now the railroad came generations ago
And the town grew up as the crops did grow
The crops grew well and the town did too
They say it's dyin now and there ain't a thing we can do
I don't have to read the news
Or hear it on the radio
I see it in the faces of everyone I know
The cost goes up
What we made comes down
What's gonna happen to our little town
The summer is full of thunder
The kids run and play
Momma got a new wrinkle
Poppa ain't got much to say
Rust grows along the railroad track
The young folks leave
They don't come back
And I don't have to read the news
Or hear it on the radio
I see it in the faces of everyone I know
The boards go up
The signs come down
What's gonna happen to our little town
Tom lost his farm
And we lost Tom
He left in the night
I don't know where he's gone
What he'd lost
He just couldn't face
What we're losin' can't be replaced
I don't have to read the news
Or hear it on the radio
I see it in the faces of everyone I know
The reason we're here
Is the farms around
So what's gonna happen to our little town
We've seen hard times
Many times before
Maybe this whole thing is just one more
It never was perfect
Maybe no one's to blame
To see it die like this
It's a god damned shame
And I don't have to read the news
Or hear it on the radio
I see it in the faces of everyone I know
The sun comes up
The sun goes down
But what's gonna happen to our little town
Showing posts with label Greg Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greg Brown. Show all posts
Monday, January 19, 2009
*The Poet’s Game- The Music Of Folk’s Greg Brown- “One More Goodnight Kiss”
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown performing "Lately"
CD Review
One More Goodnight Kiss, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 1988
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are the songs of childhood remembrance like “Say A Little Prayer” and “Walking Down To Casey”. The struggle just to survive that I can, although a mere city boy, relate to in “Cheapest Kind”. The ode to everyone’s grandmother, city or country, farm or tenement, in “Canned Goods”. Can’t you just smell Grandma’s cooking as you listen , if only as an alternative to the routine at home. As a bonus the eerily beautiful lyrical poetry in song of “I Wish I Were A Painter” makes me wish that I could put some lyrics like those together, once.
I Wish I Was a Painter
lyrics by Ella Mae Brown
In these hills is every color,
every one but one or two.
If I knew how to paint pictures,
just think of what I could do.
[chorus:]
I wish I was a painter,
and could mix red, green and blue.
Oh, I wish I was a painter--
I'd paint a picture for you.
Blue sky is such a companion,
if you had some to hang on your wall,
then could you ever be sorry,
when night came nightly at all?
[repeat chorus]
And the seasons turning colors,
if I could paint Summer for you,
then in the deep of the Winter,
you could have some Summer too.
[repeat chorus]
Here in the hills of the Ozarks,
I've seen almost every hue.
And I just wish I could catch them,
I'd turn your wall into a view.
[repeat chorus]
Canned Goods
Well let the wild winter wind bellow and blow
I'm as warm as a July tomato
[chorus:]
There's peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin
Supper ready, everybody come on in
Taste a little of the summer
Taste a little of the summer
Taste a little of the summer
Grandma put it all in jars
Well there's a root cellar, fruit cellar down below
Watch your head now, and down we go
[repeat chorus]
Well maybe you are weary and you don't give a damn
I bet you never tasted her blackberry jam
[repeat chorus]
Oh she got magic in her, you know what I mean
She puts the sun and rain in with her beans
[repeat chorus]
What with the snow and the economy and everything
I think I'll just stay down here and eat until spring
[repeat chorus]
When I go down to see Grandma, I gain a lot a weight
With her dear hands she gives me plate after plate
She cans the pickles, sweet and dill
And the songs of the whip-or-will and the morning dew and the evening moon
I really gotta go down and see her soon
Cause the canned goods that I buy at the store
Ain't got the summer in em anymore
You bet Grandma as sure as you're born I'll take some more potatoes and
a thunder storm
[repeat chorus]
CD Review
One More Goodnight Kiss, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 1988
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are the songs of childhood remembrance like “Say A Little Prayer” and “Walking Down To Casey”. The struggle just to survive that I can, although a mere city boy, relate to in “Cheapest Kind”. The ode to everyone’s grandmother, city or country, farm or tenement, in “Canned Goods”. Can’t you just smell Grandma’s cooking as you listen , if only as an alternative to the routine at home. As a bonus the eerily beautiful lyrical poetry in song of “I Wish I Were A Painter” makes me wish that I could put some lyrics like those together, once.
I Wish I Was a Painter
lyrics by Ella Mae Brown
In these hills is every color,
every one but one or two.
If I knew how to paint pictures,
just think of what I could do.
[chorus:]
I wish I was a painter,
and could mix red, green and blue.
Oh, I wish I was a painter--
I'd paint a picture for you.
Blue sky is such a companion,
if you had some to hang on your wall,
then could you ever be sorry,
when night came nightly at all?
[repeat chorus]
And the seasons turning colors,
if I could paint Summer for you,
then in the deep of the Winter,
you could have some Summer too.
[repeat chorus]
Here in the hills of the Ozarks,
I've seen almost every hue.
And I just wish I could catch them,
I'd turn your wall into a view.
[repeat chorus]
Canned Goods
Well let the wild winter wind bellow and blow
I'm as warm as a July tomato
[chorus:]
There's peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin
Supper ready, everybody come on in
Taste a little of the summer
Taste a little of the summer
Taste a little of the summer
Grandma put it all in jars
Well there's a root cellar, fruit cellar down below
Watch your head now, and down we go
[repeat chorus]
Well maybe you are weary and you don't give a damn
I bet you never tasted her blackberry jam
[repeat chorus]
Oh she got magic in her, you know what I mean
She puts the sun and rain in with her beans
[repeat chorus]
What with the snow and the economy and everything
I think I'll just stay down here and eat until spring
[repeat chorus]
When I go down to see Grandma, I gain a lot a weight
With her dear hands she gives me plate after plate
She cans the pickles, sweet and dill
And the songs of the whip-or-will and the morning dew and the evening moon
I really gotta go down and see her soon
Cause the canned goods that I buy at the store
Ain't got the summer in em anymore
You bet Grandma as sure as you're born I'll take some more potatoes and
a thunder storm
[repeat chorus]
*The Poet's Game- The Early Work Of Folk's Greg Brown
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of song writer Richard Thompson performing his song "1952 Vincent Black Lightning". Sorry I could not find a cover done by Greg Brown on this song.
CD Review
Greg Brown-The Live One, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 1991
Revised December 19, 2008
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are “Billy From The Hills” a tribute to his father, “Boomtown” a quasi-political song about turning the American Mountain West into the same kind of upscale tourist trap/strip mall as we find on the coasts and the inevitable paean to love’s twists and turns in “You Drive Me Crazy”. I want to pay special attention to "1952 Vincent Black Lightning" the semi-tragic story of outlaw motorcycle love. I would argue that this is one of the great modern love songs. If you grew up in the 1950's and early 1960's you are familiar with this theme in the pop music genre. Christ, you could not get away from the theme of a dying young lover who passed away in every conceivable manner, although car wrecks seemed to have been the most popular way.
Here Brown turns this whole concept around in his tribute to the bike and to the outlaw who ultimately is redeemed by giving the keys to his cherished bike to his Red Molly. If that is not modern love then nothing is. All to his steady guitar beat that gives one the feeling of a motorcycle going through its gears. I have since found out, and correct me if I am wrong, that Greg did not write this song, although I will bet many a dollar that he wishes that he had. (Hats off to Richard Thompson for his efforts). Moreover, this is exactly his kind of song and his performance makes it his own. Listen on.
ARTIST: Richard Thompson
TITLE: 1952 Vincent Black Lightning
Lyrics and Chords
Said Red Molly to James that's a fine motorbike
A girl could feel special on any such like
Said James to Red Molly, well my hat's off to you
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Box Hill they did ride
/ A - - - D - / - - - - A - / : / E - D A /
/ E - D A - / Bm - D - / - - - - A - - - /
Said James to Red Molly, here's a ring for your right hand
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man
I've fought with the law since I was seventeen
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine
Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you
And if fate should break my stride
Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride
Come down, come down, Red Molly, called Sergeant McRae
For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside
Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside
When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath
But he smiled to see her cry
And said I'll give you my Vincent to ride
Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl
Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do
They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52
He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys
He said I've got no further use for these
I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome
Swooping down from heaven to carry me home
And he gave her one last kiss and died
And he gave her his Vincent to ride
CD Review
Greg Brown-The Live One, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 1991
Revised December 19, 2008
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are “Billy From The Hills” a tribute to his father, “Boomtown” a quasi-political song about turning the American Mountain West into the same kind of upscale tourist trap/strip mall as we find on the coasts and the inevitable paean to love’s twists and turns in “You Drive Me Crazy”. I want to pay special attention to "1952 Vincent Black Lightning" the semi-tragic story of outlaw motorcycle love. I would argue that this is one of the great modern love songs. If you grew up in the 1950's and early 1960's you are familiar with this theme in the pop music genre. Christ, you could not get away from the theme of a dying young lover who passed away in every conceivable manner, although car wrecks seemed to have been the most popular way.
Here Brown turns this whole concept around in his tribute to the bike and to the outlaw who ultimately is redeemed by giving the keys to his cherished bike to his Red Molly. If that is not modern love then nothing is. All to his steady guitar beat that gives one the feeling of a motorcycle going through its gears. I have since found out, and correct me if I am wrong, that Greg did not write this song, although I will bet many a dollar that he wishes that he had. (Hats off to Richard Thompson for his efforts). Moreover, this is exactly his kind of song and his performance makes it his own. Listen on.
ARTIST: Richard Thompson
TITLE: 1952 Vincent Black Lightning
Lyrics and Chords
Said Red Molly to James that's a fine motorbike
A girl could feel special on any such like
Said James to Red Molly, well my hat's off to you
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Box Hill they did ride
/ A - - - D - / - - - - A - / : / E - D A /
/ E - D A - / Bm - D - / - - - - A - - - /
Said James to Red Molly, here's a ring for your right hand
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man
I've fought with the law since I was seventeen
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine
Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you
And if fate should break my stride
Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride
Come down, come down, Red Molly, called Sergeant McRae
For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside
Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside
When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath
But he smiled to see her cry
And said I'll give you my Vincent to ride
Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl
Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do
They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52
He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys
He said I've got no further use for these
I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome
Swooping down from heaven to carry me home
And he gave her one last kiss and died
And he gave her his Vincent to ride
"I Want My Country Back"- The Music Of Greg Brown
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown performing "I Want My Country Back".
CD REVIEW
Greg Brown: In The Hills Of California- Live At The Kate Wolf Music Festival 1997-2003, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 2004
The last time that the name Greg Brown, singer/songwriter and free-wheeling homespun philosopher appeared in this space was just recently as I found myself publicly ‘flirting’, via cyberspace of course, with his wife the also accomplished singer/songwriter Iris Dement, my Arkie angel (See my review of her “Infamous Angel” CD). It is all Greg’s fault, in any case. I was ‘introduced’ to Iris on his tribute album “Driftless” where she did a cover of “Jimmie Rodgers Going Home” (complete with yodel at the end). So to be absolutely aboveboard and fair I find it necessary to review some of his work
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
In this CD collection we are treated to another look at many of those above-mentioned topics via Greg’s performances over several years (1997-2004) at the annual Kate Wolf Festival held in California since 1996. Thus, if one is unfamiliar with Greg Brown, one can get a full range of his work, some of his best work, as he pays honor by his performances to Kate Wolf, one of the post-1960’s most influential folk performers, whose work is still widely covered by contemporary folk singers. Moreover, the group of musicians that back him up on many of the tracks is superior, especially guitarist Nina Gerber.
So what is good here? “Wash My Eyes” and “Two Little Feet” work on Disc One, as does the controlled anger of “I Want My Country Back” and a rocking “I Shall Not Be Moved” to highlight his political perspective. On Disc Two the “Poet’s Game” is always a winner (especially that line about the strip malls and the one about that one night stand lady friend up in New Hampshire) as is “Where Is Maria?” and “Your Town Now”.
So much for the music review. Here is the real reason I wrote this frantic review though. I looked at the pictures on the liner notes and noticed that old Greg has been doing some weight lifting or something. He looks like he could play tight end for the Chicago Bears. Hey, Greg male folk singers are suppose to be scrawny and looking malnourished not healthy and ready to do bodily injury if you mess with their women. All this is by way of saying - all that stuff about ‘flirting’ with Iris in any way, shape or form was just fooling around. Okay?
"Greg Brown- Two Little Feet lyrics"
two little feet to get me 'cross the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet, big mountain, and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down
I hear the voice of the ancient ones
chanting magic words from a different time
well there is no time there is only this rain
there is no time, that's why I missed my plane
John Muir walked away into the mountains
in his old overcoat a crust of bread in his pocket
we have no knowledge and so we have stuff and
stuff with no knowledge is never enough to get you there
it just won't get you there
a culture exploded into knickknacks and memories
Eagle and Bear trinkets I don't think it's good
old man what am I trying to say it's a
it's a messed up world but I love it anyway
two little feet to get me 'cross the city
my little hand to knock upon your door
my little thing for your little thing
and a big love to lift us up once more to the mountain
lift us up
tumble us like scree let us holler out our freedom like a
like a wolf across a valley like a kid lost in a game
no time no name gonna miss that plane again
and I'm gonna stay here with you baby and kiss you to a good dream
I'm goin' kiss you
kiss you like you like it
I got two little feet to get me across the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet big mountain and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down
CD REVIEW
Greg Brown: In The Hills Of California- Live At The Kate Wolf Music Festival 1997-2003, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 2004
The last time that the name Greg Brown, singer/songwriter and free-wheeling homespun philosopher appeared in this space was just recently as I found myself publicly ‘flirting’, via cyberspace of course, with his wife the also accomplished singer/songwriter Iris Dement, my Arkie angel (See my review of her “Infamous Angel” CD). It is all Greg’s fault, in any case. I was ‘introduced’ to Iris on his tribute album “Driftless” where she did a cover of “Jimmie Rodgers Going Home” (complete with yodel at the end). So to be absolutely aboveboard and fair I find it necessary to review some of his work
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
In this CD collection we are treated to another look at many of those above-mentioned topics via Greg’s performances over several years (1997-2004) at the annual Kate Wolf Festival held in California since 1996. Thus, if one is unfamiliar with Greg Brown, one can get a full range of his work, some of his best work, as he pays honor by his performances to Kate Wolf, one of the post-1960’s most influential folk performers, whose work is still widely covered by contemporary folk singers. Moreover, the group of musicians that back him up on many of the tracks is superior, especially guitarist Nina Gerber.
So what is good here? “Wash My Eyes” and “Two Little Feet” work on Disc One, as does the controlled anger of “I Want My Country Back” and a rocking “I Shall Not Be Moved” to highlight his political perspective. On Disc Two the “Poet’s Game” is always a winner (especially that line about the strip malls and the one about that one night stand lady friend up in New Hampshire) as is “Where Is Maria?” and “Your Town Now”.
So much for the music review. Here is the real reason I wrote this frantic review though. I looked at the pictures on the liner notes and noticed that old Greg has been doing some weight lifting or something. He looks like he could play tight end for the Chicago Bears. Hey, Greg male folk singers are suppose to be scrawny and looking malnourished not healthy and ready to do bodily injury if you mess with their women. All this is by way of saying - all that stuff about ‘flirting’ with Iris in any way, shape or form was just fooling around. Okay?
"Greg Brown- Two Little Feet lyrics"
two little feet to get me 'cross the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet, big mountain, and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down
I hear the voice of the ancient ones
chanting magic words from a different time
well there is no time there is only this rain
there is no time, that's why I missed my plane
John Muir walked away into the mountains
in his old overcoat a crust of bread in his pocket
we have no knowledge and so we have stuff and
stuff with no knowledge is never enough to get you there
it just won't get you there
a culture exploded into knickknacks and memories
Eagle and Bear trinkets I don't think it's good
old man what am I trying to say it's a
it's a messed up world but I love it anyway
two little feet to get me 'cross the city
my little hand to knock upon your door
my little thing for your little thing
and a big love to lift us up once more to the mountain
lift us up
tumble us like scree let us holler out our freedom like a
like a wolf across a valley like a kid lost in a game
no time no name gonna miss that plane again
and I'm gonna stay here with you baby and kiss you to a good dream
I'm goin' kiss you
kiss you like you like it
I got two little feet to get me across the mountain
two little feet to carry me away into the woods
two little feet big mountain and a
cloud comin' down cloud comin' down cloud comin' down
Saturday, December 27, 2008
*An Encore, My Arky Angel- The Music Of Iris DeMent-"My Life"
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Iris DeMent performing "He Reached Down".
CD Review
My Life, Iris DeMent, Warner Brothers, 1994
Well, everyone by now knows that I love Iris Dement (see review of her “Infamous Angel”) so we need not get back on that track. I am, however, due to that unrequited love, in the process trying to find every Iris CD I can get my hands on. That search brings me to this Warner Brother produced CD from 1994 “My Life”. Does this effort measure up to the others? No. Does it have any songs with the power of “Walking Home Alone”, “A Wall In Washington”, “These Hills Of Home” or “After Laughter”. Hell no. I believe that it is probably due to the fact that it is a little over-produced.
Iris’ voice left with a simple guitar, or better yet, piano as accompaniment can carry her rich and thoughtful lyrics. Again, as is her forte she sings of loves lost (or misunderstood), spiritual longing (she might argue religious but I will not quibble) and those long ago formed and fastened roots to family, home and hearth. Although no song here took my breath away “You’ve Done Nothing Wrong” was evocative. “Childhood Memories” was fine and also evoked a response in me to my very different childhood.
The winner here though is clearly “Easy’s Getting Harder Every Day”. The story line (Is it somewhat autobiographical?) and Iris’ Arkie twang drive home a very strong message about the hard struggle to keep one’s head up that many, too many people face on a day to day basis. Oh, yes. Iris, don’t forget that proposal I made in my review of “Infamous Angel” if you tire of Greg. It is still on the table.
LIFELINE- IRIS DEMENTFlariella Records - 2004
I'VE GOT THAT OLD TIME RELIGION (Hurdist Milsap)
Stamps-Baxter Music, (BMI)
I’m glad Jesus came, glory to His name oh what a Friend is He
He so freely gave, His own life to save. From bonds of sins set free.
CHORUS
And I’ve got that old time religion in my heart
And its way down inside.
I’ve got that new kind of feeling in my heart
Real love abides
Nobody knows what it means to me
Nobody knows but my God and me
I’ve got that old time religion in my heart
And it’s way down inside.
What a joy to know one who loves us so
He is so kind and true
He has changed my life from all sin and strife
He’ll do the same for you.
BLESSED ASSURANCE (Fanny J. Crosby)
Public Domain
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
O what a fortaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.
ChorusThis is my story, this is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long;This is my story, this is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long;
Perfect submission, perfect delight, Visions of rapture now burst on my sight.Angels descending bring from above, Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
Perfect submission, all is at rest, I in my Saviour am happy and blest.Watching and waiting, looking above, Filled with His Goodness, lost in His love
FILL MY WAY WITH LOVE (George W. Sebren)Public DomainLet me walked blessed Lord, in the way Thou hast gone, Leading straight to the land above;Giving cheer ev'rywhere, to the sad and the lone, Fill my way ev'ry day with loveChorusFill my way ev'ry day with love (with love), As I walk with the heavn'ly Dove;Let me go all the while, with a song and a smile, Fill my way ev'ry day with love.
Keep me close to the side of my Saviour and Guide, Let me never in darkness rove;Keep my path free from wrath, and my soul satisfied, Fill my way eve'ry day with love.
Soon the race will be o'er and I'll travel no more, But abide in my home above;Let me sing blessed King, all the way to the shore, Fill my way ev'ry day with love.
LET THE MYSTERY BE (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Infamous Angel
Everybody's wonderin' what and where they they all came from
everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go
when the whole thing's done
but no one knows for certain
and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Some say once you're gone you're gone forever
and some say you're gonna come back
Some say you rest in the arms of the Saviour
if in sinful ways you lack
Some say that they're comin' back in a garden
bunch of carrots and little sweet peas
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Everybody's wonderin' what and where they they all came from
everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go
when the whole thing's done
but no one knows for certain
and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Some say they're goin' to a place called Glory
and I ain't saying it ain't a fact
but I've heard that I'm on the road to purgatory
and I don't like the sound of that
I believe in love and I live my life accordingly
but I choose to let the mystery be
Everybody is wondering what and where they they all came from
everybody is worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go
when the whole thing's done
but no one knows for certain
and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
I think I'll just let the mystery be
THESE HILLS (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Far away I've traveled
to stand once more alone
and hear my memories echo
through these hills that I call home
As a child I roamed this valley
I watched the seasons come and go
I spent many hours dreaming
on these hills that I call home
The wind is rushing through the valley
and I don't feel so all alone
When I see the dandelions blowing
across the hills that I call home
Like the flowers I am fading
into my setting sun
Brother and sister passed before me
Mama and Daddy they've long since gone
The wind is rushing through the valley
and I don't feel so all alone
When I see the dandelions blowing
across the hills that I call home
These are the hills that I call home
HOTTER THAN MOJAVE IN MY HEART (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Well, I've heard them say there's one for everybody
and I just knew somehow that you'd be the one for me
'cause making love with you's not just a hobby
no, it's the flame that burnt the forest down in me
And darling was it day or was it nighttime
were them whippoorwills a-moaning through the trees,
through the trees
I don't remember just what you said but ooh, right from the start
you made me hotter than Mojave in my heart
Well baby, I could stay this way forever
just passing time at ninety-nine degrees
'cause loving you's my favorite kind of weather
oh, forever let the flame burn down in me
And I'll not prepare my heart for the change of season
and I'll whip old Winter Wind there if she blows, if she blows
Well, God bless the day that you came along
and you tipped my apple cart
and you made me hotter than Mojave in my heart
And I'll not prepare my heart for the change of season
and I'm a-gonna whip old Winter Wind there if she blows, if she blows
Well, God bless the day that you came along
and you tipped my apple cart
you made me hotter than Mojave in my heart
Now it's hotter than Mojave in my heart
WHEN LOVE WAS YOUNG (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Look at you, look at me
my heart breaks as I read our sad story
Never thought that I'd be
here with you wishing I was free
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
There was nothing I would not do
for the chance to see your face
How could I have known back then
that today I'd hesitate
When you hold me in your arms
I don't yearn for that charm
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
Look at how our curtain fell
Guess it's true only time can tell
'bout an ending
Kids are grown, we've had our day
Guess it's time now to go away
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
There was nothing I would not do
for the chance to see your face
How could I have known back then
that today I'd hesitate
When you hold me in your arms
I don't yearn for that charm
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
OUR TOWN (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
And you know the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
Up the street beside that red neon light
that's where I met my baby on one hot summer night
He was the tender and I ordered a beer
It's been forty years and I'm still sitting here
But you know the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
It's here I had my babies and I had my first kiss
I've walked down Main Street in the cold morning mist
Over there is where I bought my first car
it turned over once but then it never went far
And I can see the sun settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
I buried my Mama and I buried my Pa
They sleep up the street beside that pretty brick wall
I bring them flowers about every day
but I just gotta cry when I think what they'd say
If they could see how the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
Now I sit on the porch and watch the lightning-bugs fly
but I can't see too good, I got tears in my eyes
I'm leaving tomorrow but I don't wanna go
I love you my town, you'll always live in my soul
But I can see the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on I gotta kiss you goodbye but I'll hold to my lover
'cause my heart's 'bout to die
Go on now and say goodbye to my town, to my town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on my town, on my town
Goodnight, goodnight
CD Review
My Life, Iris DeMent, Warner Brothers, 1994
Well, everyone by now knows that I love Iris Dement (see review of her “Infamous Angel”) so we need not get back on that track. I am, however, due to that unrequited love, in the process trying to find every Iris CD I can get my hands on. That search brings me to this Warner Brother produced CD from 1994 “My Life”. Does this effort measure up to the others? No. Does it have any songs with the power of “Walking Home Alone”, “A Wall In Washington”, “These Hills Of Home” or “After Laughter”. Hell no. I believe that it is probably due to the fact that it is a little over-produced.
Iris’ voice left with a simple guitar, or better yet, piano as accompaniment can carry her rich and thoughtful lyrics. Again, as is her forte she sings of loves lost (or misunderstood), spiritual longing (she might argue religious but I will not quibble) and those long ago formed and fastened roots to family, home and hearth. Although no song here took my breath away “You’ve Done Nothing Wrong” was evocative. “Childhood Memories” was fine and also evoked a response in me to my very different childhood.
The winner here though is clearly “Easy’s Getting Harder Every Day”. The story line (Is it somewhat autobiographical?) and Iris’ Arkie twang drive home a very strong message about the hard struggle to keep one’s head up that many, too many people face on a day to day basis. Oh, yes. Iris, don’t forget that proposal I made in my review of “Infamous Angel” if you tire of Greg. It is still on the table.
LIFELINE- IRIS DEMENTFlariella Records - 2004
I'VE GOT THAT OLD TIME RELIGION (Hurdist Milsap)
Stamps-Baxter Music, (BMI)
I’m glad Jesus came, glory to His name oh what a Friend is He
He so freely gave, His own life to save. From bonds of sins set free.
CHORUS
And I’ve got that old time religion in my heart
And its way down inside.
I’ve got that new kind of feeling in my heart
Real love abides
Nobody knows what it means to me
Nobody knows but my God and me
I’ve got that old time religion in my heart
And it’s way down inside.
What a joy to know one who loves us so
He is so kind and true
He has changed my life from all sin and strife
He’ll do the same for you.
BLESSED ASSURANCE (Fanny J. Crosby)
Public Domain
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
O what a fortaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.
ChorusThis is my story, this is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long;This is my story, this is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long;
Perfect submission, perfect delight, Visions of rapture now burst on my sight.Angels descending bring from above, Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
Perfect submission, all is at rest, I in my Saviour am happy and blest.Watching and waiting, looking above, Filled with His Goodness, lost in His love
FILL MY WAY WITH LOVE (George W. Sebren)Public DomainLet me walked blessed Lord, in the way Thou hast gone, Leading straight to the land above;Giving cheer ev'rywhere, to the sad and the lone, Fill my way ev'ry day with loveChorusFill my way ev'ry day with love (with love), As I walk with the heavn'ly Dove;Let me go all the while, with a song and a smile, Fill my way ev'ry day with love.
Keep me close to the side of my Saviour and Guide, Let me never in darkness rove;Keep my path free from wrath, and my soul satisfied, Fill my way eve'ry day with love.
Soon the race will be o'er and I'll travel no more, But abide in my home above;Let me sing blessed King, all the way to the shore, Fill my way ev'ry day with love.
LET THE MYSTERY BE (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Infamous Angel
Everybody's wonderin' what and where they they all came from
everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go
when the whole thing's done
but no one knows for certain
and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Some say once you're gone you're gone forever
and some say you're gonna come back
Some say you rest in the arms of the Saviour
if in sinful ways you lack
Some say that they're comin' back in a garden
bunch of carrots and little sweet peas
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Everybody's wonderin' what and where they they all came from
everybody's worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go
when the whole thing's done
but no one knows for certain
and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
Some say they're goin' to a place called Glory
and I ain't saying it ain't a fact
but I've heard that I'm on the road to purgatory
and I don't like the sound of that
I believe in love and I live my life accordingly
but I choose to let the mystery be
Everybody is wondering what and where they they all came from
everybody is worryin' 'bout where they're gonna go
when the whole thing's done
but no one knows for certain
and so it's all the same to me
I think I'll just let the mystery be
I think I'll just let the mystery be
THESE HILLS (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Far away I've traveled
to stand once more alone
and hear my memories echo
through these hills that I call home
As a child I roamed this valley
I watched the seasons come and go
I spent many hours dreaming
on these hills that I call home
The wind is rushing through the valley
and I don't feel so all alone
When I see the dandelions blowing
across the hills that I call home
Like the flowers I am fading
into my setting sun
Brother and sister passed before me
Mama and Daddy they've long since gone
The wind is rushing through the valley
and I don't feel so all alone
When I see the dandelions blowing
across the hills that I call home
These are the hills that I call home
HOTTER THAN MOJAVE IN MY HEART (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Well, I've heard them say there's one for everybody
and I just knew somehow that you'd be the one for me
'cause making love with you's not just a hobby
no, it's the flame that burnt the forest down in me
And darling was it day or was it nighttime
were them whippoorwills a-moaning through the trees,
through the trees
I don't remember just what you said but ooh, right from the start
you made me hotter than Mojave in my heart
Well baby, I could stay this way forever
just passing time at ninety-nine degrees
'cause loving you's my favorite kind of weather
oh, forever let the flame burn down in me
And I'll not prepare my heart for the change of season
and I'll whip old Winter Wind there if she blows, if she blows
Well, God bless the day that you came along
and you tipped my apple cart
and you made me hotter than Mojave in my heart
And I'll not prepare my heart for the change of season
and I'm a-gonna whip old Winter Wind there if she blows, if she blows
Well, God bless the day that you came along
and you tipped my apple cart
you made me hotter than Mojave in my heart
Now it's hotter than Mojave in my heart
WHEN LOVE WAS YOUNG (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Look at you, look at me
my heart breaks as I read our sad story
Never thought that I'd be
here with you wishing I was free
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
There was nothing I would not do
for the chance to see your face
How could I have known back then
that today I'd hesitate
When you hold me in your arms
I don't yearn for that charm
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
Look at how our curtain fell
Guess it's true only time can tell
'bout an ending
Kids are grown, we've had our day
Guess it's time now to go away
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
There was nothing I would not do
for the chance to see your face
How could I have known back then
that today I'd hesitate
When you hold me in your arms
I don't yearn for that charm
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
I never dreamed today would come
when love was young
OUR TOWN (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
And you know the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
Up the street beside that red neon light
that's where I met my baby on one hot summer night
He was the tender and I ordered a beer
It's been forty years and I'm still sitting here
But you know the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
It's here I had my babies and I had my first kiss
I've walked down Main Street in the cold morning mist
Over there is where I bought my first car
it turned over once but then it never went far
And I can see the sun settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
I buried my Mama and I buried my Pa
They sleep up the street beside that pretty brick wall
I bring them flowers about every day
but I just gotta cry when I think what they'd say
If they could see how the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on now and kiss it goodbye but hold on to your lover
'cause your heart's bound to die
Go on now and say goodbye to our town, to our town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on our town, on our town
goodnight
Now I sit on the porch and watch the lightning-bugs fly
but I can't see too good, I got tears in my eyes
I'm leaving tomorrow but I don't wanna go
I love you my town, you'll always live in my soul
But I can see the sun's settin' fast
and just like they say nothing good ever lasts
Well, go on I gotta kiss you goodbye but I'll hold to my lover
'cause my heart's 'bout to die
Go on now and say goodbye to my town, to my town
Can't you see the sun's settin' down on my town, on my town
Goodnight, goodnight
* Once More, My Arkie Angel-The Music Of Iris Dement-"The Way I Should"
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Iris DeMent performing "Sweet Is The Melody".
CD Review
The Way I Should, Iris Dement, Warner Brothers Records, 1996
I first heard Iris DeMent doing a cover of a Greg Brown tribute to Jimmy Rodgers, the old time Texas yodeller, on Brown's tribute album, "Driftless". I then looked for this album and for the most part was blown away by the power of DeMent's voice, her piano accompaniment and her lyrics (which are contained in the liner notes, read them, please). It is hard to type her style. Is it folk? Is it Country Pop? Is it semi-torch songstress? Well, whatever it may be you are in for a listening treat, especially if you are in a sentimental mood.
Stand outs here include- "There is a Wall in Washington" about the Vietnam Memorial probably one of the best anti-war songs you will ever hear. It is fairly easy to write a "Give Peace a Chance" or "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?" type of anti-war song. It is another to capture the pathos of what happened to too many families when we were unable to stop that war. "When My Morning Comes" hits home with all the baggage working class kids have about their inferiority when they screw up in this world. Lastly- "Walking Home Alone" evokes all the humor, bathos, pathos and sheer exhilaration of saying one was able to survive, and not badly, after growing up poor amid the riches of America. Listen on. Yo will be glad you did.
“Walkin' Home”
I'm walkin' home tonight
The streets are glowing 'neath the pale moonlight
I look around, there's not a soul in sight
and I'm walkin' home
Once again I hear my mother's voice
and all us kids making a bunch of noise
If I'm not careful I might start to cry
Just walkin' home tonight
I turn my head and hear the screen door slam
and there he is, that tall and dark-haired man
He looks my way but all alone he stands
and I am walkin' home
He's my Dad, you know I was his girl
He taught me all he knew about this world
and then he traveled right on out of sight
and I'm just walkin' home tonight
I'm walkin' home tonight
The streets are glowing 'neath the pale moonlight
I look around, there's not a soul in sight
and I am walkin' home
Old worn-out couches and a bunch of kids
Four to a bedroom and all Mom's plates were chipped
but I never knew about the things I missed
and I'm walkin' home
You see, it's just the place where I come from
and, good or bad, it's where the deal was done
Mom and Dad, their daughters and their sons
and I'm just walkin' home tonight
I'm walkin' home tonight
The streets are glowing 'neath the pale moonlight
I look around, there's not a soul in sight
and I'm walkin' home
Once again I hear my mother's voice
and all us kids making a bunch of noise
If I'm not careful I might start to cry
Just walkin' home tonight
No Time To Cry lyrics Y
My father died a year ago today.
The rooster started crowing when they carried Dad away.
There beside my mother, in the living room, I stood,
With my brothers and my sisters, knowing Dad was gone for good.
Well, I stayed at home just long enough,
To lay him in the ground and then I,
Caught a plane to do a show up north in Detroit town.
Because I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I've got no time to look back, I've got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I've learned to stop 'em fast.
`Cause I don't know, if I let 'em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there's just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there's bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I can still remember when I was a girl.
But so many things have changed so much here in my world.
I remember sitting on the front yard when an ambulance went by,
And just listening to those sirens I would breakdown and cry.
But now I'm walking and I'm talking,
Doing just what I'm supposed to do.
Working overtime to make sure that I don't come unglued.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I've got no time to look back, I've got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I've learned to stop 'em fast.
`Cause I don't know, if I let 'em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there's just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there's bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
Now I sit down on the sofa and I watch the evening news:
There's a half a dozen tragedies from which to pick and choose.
The baby that was missing was found in a ditch today.
And there's bombs a'flying and people dying not so far away.
And I'll take a beer from the 'fridgerator,
And go sit out in the yard and with a cold one in my hand,
I'm gonna bite down and swallow hard.
Because I'm older now: I've got no time to cry.
I've got no time to look back, I've got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I've learned to stop 'em fast.
`Cause I don't know, if I let 'em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there's just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there's bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I guess I'm older now: I just ain't got no time to cry.
No time to cry.
No time to cry.
No time to cry.
CD Review
The Way I Should, Iris Dement, Warner Brothers Records, 1996
I first heard Iris DeMent doing a cover of a Greg Brown tribute to Jimmy Rodgers, the old time Texas yodeller, on Brown's tribute album, "Driftless". I then looked for this album and for the most part was blown away by the power of DeMent's voice, her piano accompaniment and her lyrics (which are contained in the liner notes, read them, please). It is hard to type her style. Is it folk? Is it Country Pop? Is it semi-torch songstress? Well, whatever it may be you are in for a listening treat, especially if you are in a sentimental mood.
Stand outs here include- "There is a Wall in Washington" about the Vietnam Memorial probably one of the best anti-war songs you will ever hear. It is fairly easy to write a "Give Peace a Chance" or "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?" type of anti-war song. It is another to capture the pathos of what happened to too many families when we were unable to stop that war. "When My Morning Comes" hits home with all the baggage working class kids have about their inferiority when they screw up in this world. Lastly- "Walking Home Alone" evokes all the humor, bathos, pathos and sheer exhilaration of saying one was able to survive, and not badly, after growing up poor amid the riches of America. Listen on. Yo will be glad you did.
“Walkin' Home”
I'm walkin' home tonight
The streets are glowing 'neath the pale moonlight
I look around, there's not a soul in sight
and I'm walkin' home
Once again I hear my mother's voice
and all us kids making a bunch of noise
If I'm not careful I might start to cry
Just walkin' home tonight
I turn my head and hear the screen door slam
and there he is, that tall and dark-haired man
He looks my way but all alone he stands
and I am walkin' home
He's my Dad, you know I was his girl
He taught me all he knew about this world
and then he traveled right on out of sight
and I'm just walkin' home tonight
I'm walkin' home tonight
The streets are glowing 'neath the pale moonlight
I look around, there's not a soul in sight
and I am walkin' home
Old worn-out couches and a bunch of kids
Four to a bedroom and all Mom's plates were chipped
but I never knew about the things I missed
and I'm walkin' home
You see, it's just the place where I come from
and, good or bad, it's where the deal was done
Mom and Dad, their daughters and their sons
and I'm just walkin' home tonight
I'm walkin' home tonight
The streets are glowing 'neath the pale moonlight
I look around, there's not a soul in sight
and I'm walkin' home
Once again I hear my mother's voice
and all us kids making a bunch of noise
If I'm not careful I might start to cry
Just walkin' home tonight
No Time To Cry lyrics Y
My father died a year ago today.
The rooster started crowing when they carried Dad away.
There beside my mother, in the living room, I stood,
With my brothers and my sisters, knowing Dad was gone for good.
Well, I stayed at home just long enough,
To lay him in the ground and then I,
Caught a plane to do a show up north in Detroit town.
Because I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I've got no time to look back, I've got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I've learned to stop 'em fast.
`Cause I don't know, if I let 'em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there's just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there's bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I can still remember when I was a girl.
But so many things have changed so much here in my world.
I remember sitting on the front yard when an ambulance went by,
And just listening to those sirens I would breakdown and cry.
But now I'm walking and I'm talking,
Doing just what I'm supposed to do.
Working overtime to make sure that I don't come unglued.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I've got no time to look back, I've got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I've learned to stop 'em fast.
`Cause I don't know, if I let 'em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there's just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there's bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
Now I sit down on the sofa and I watch the evening news:
There's a half a dozen tragedies from which to pick and choose.
The baby that was missing was found in a ditch today.
And there's bombs a'flying and people dying not so far away.
And I'll take a beer from the 'fridgerator,
And go sit out in the yard and with a cold one in my hand,
I'm gonna bite down and swallow hard.
Because I'm older now: I've got no time to cry.
I've got no time to look back, I've got no time to see,
The pieces of my heart that have been ripped away from me.
And if the feeling starts to coming, I've learned to stop 'em fast.
`Cause I don't know, if I let 'em go, they might not wanna pass.
And there's just so many people trying to get me on the phone.
And there's bills to pay, and songs to play,
And a house to make a home.
I guess I'm older now and I've got no time to cry.
I guess I'm older now: I just ain't got no time to cry.
No time to cry.
No time to cry.
No time to cry.
*My Arkie Angel- The Music Of Iris DeMent-"Infamous Angel"
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Iris DeMent performing "Our Town"
CD REVIEW
Infamous Angel, Iris Dement, Rounder Records, 1992
Frankly, and I admit this publicly for the first time in this space, I love Ms. Iris Dement. Not personally, of course, but through her voice, her lyrics and her musical presence. This ‘confession’ may seem rather startling coming from a reviewer who is as likely here to go on and on about Bolsheviks, ‘Che’, Leon Trotsky, high communist theory and the like. Especially, as well given Ms. Dement’s seemingly simple quasi- religious themes and commitment to paying homage to her rural background in song. All such discrepancies though go out the window here. Why?
Well, for one, this old radical got a lump in his throat the first time he heard “These Hills”. Okay, that happens sometimes-once- but why did he have the same reaction on the fifth and twelfth hearings? Explain that. I can easily enough. If, on the very, very remotest chance, there is a heaven then I know one of the choir members. Enough said. By the way give a listen to “Sweet Forgiveness” and “After You’ve Gone” (with that great line about 'knowing' every line in her man's face. Then you too will be in love with Ms. Iris Dement. Iris, here is my proposal. If you get tired of fishing the U.P., or wherever, with Mr. Greg Brown, get bored with his endless twaddle about old Iowa farms or going on and on about Grannma's cellar just whistle. Better yet just yodel like you did on “Jimmie Rodgers Going Home” on that “Driftless” CD.
INFAMOUS ANGEL (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Last night before I went to sleep my knees dropped to the floor
I turned me eyes up to the sky and I prayed "Please help me, Lord,
you know I've sowed my wild oats and now the fun's all gone"
and then I heard these tender words
and I put them in my song:
"Infamous Angel come on home
to someone who loves you and knows you needed to roam
Grab your things, a ticket's waiting at the bus depot
for: Infamous Angel, Destination: Home"
I heard heaven's choir rejoicing as the tears broke from my eyes
and all at once it lifted the weight from my past life
I found a pen and I left a note on the dresser drawer
"Infamous Angel, she don't live here anymore"
Infamous Angel come on home
to someone who loves you and knows you needed to roam
Grab your things, a ticket's waiting at the bus depot
for: Infamous Angel, Destination: Home
Then I hurried out the back door as quickly as I could
I went flying down two flights of stairs 'til on the street I stood
and there I took that final look at my old neighbourhood
Then I ran down the street proclaiming "Angel gone for good"
Infamous Angel going home
to someone who loves her and knows she needed to roam
She grabbed her things and claimed the ticket at the bus depot
for: Infamous Angel, Destination: Home
Infamous Angel, Destination: Home
SWEET FORGIVENESS (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Sweet forgiveness, that's what you give to me
when you hold me close and you say "That's all over"
You don't go looking back,
you don't hold the cards to stack,
you mean what you say.
Sweet forgiveness, you help me see
I'm not near as bad as I sometimes appear to be
When you hold me close and say
"That's all over, and I still love you"
There's no way that I could make up for those angry words I said
Sometimes it gets to hurting and the pain goes to my head
Sweet forgiveness, dear God above
I say we all deserve a taste of this kind of love
Someone who'll hold our hand,
and whisper "I understand, and I still love you"
AFTER YOU'RE GONE (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
There'll be laughter even after you're gone
I'll find reasons to face that empty dawn
'cause I've memorized each line in your face
and not even death can ever erase the story they tell to me
I'll miss you, oh how I'll miss you
I'll dream of you and I'll cry a million tears
but the sorrow will pass and the one thing that will last
is the love that you've given to me
There'll be laughter even after you're gone
I'll find reason and I'll face that empty dawn
'cause I've memorized each line in your face
and not even death could ever erase the story they tell to me
MAMA'S OPRY (Iris DeMent)
[note: harmony vocals provided by Emmylou Harris]
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
She grew up plain and simple in a farming town
Her daddy played the fiddle and use to do the calling
when they had hoedowns
She said the neighbors would come
and they'd move all my grandma's furniture 'round
and there'd be twenty or more there on the old wooden floor
dancing to a country sound
The Carters and Jimmy Rodgers played her favourite songs
and on Saturday nights there was a radio show
and she would sing along
and I'll never forget her face when she revealed to me
that she'd dreamed about singing at The Grand Ol' Opry
Her eyes, oh how they sparkled when she sang those songs
While she was hanging the clothes on the line
I was a kid just a humming along
Well, I'd be playing in the grass,
to her what might've seemed obliviously
but there ain't no doubt about it, she sure made her mark on me
She played old gospel records on the phonograph
She turned them up loud and we'd sing along
but those days have passed
Just now that I am older it occurs to me
that I was singing in the grandest opry
And we sang Sweet Rose of Sharon, Abide With Me
'til I ride The Gospel Ship to Heaven's Jubilee
and In That Great Triumphant Morning my soul will be free
and My Burdens Will Be Lifted when my Saviour's face I see
So I Don't Want to Get Adjusted to This World below
but I know He'll Pilot Me 'til it comes time to go
Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me
as the sound of my Mama's Opry
And we sang Sweet Rose of Sharon, Abide With Me
'til I ride The Gospel Ship to Heaven's Jubilee
and In That Great Triumphant Morning my soul will be free
and My Burdens Will Be Lifted when my Saviour's face I see
So I Don't Want to Get Adjusted to This World below
but I know He'll Pilot Me 'til it comes time to go
Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me
as the sound of my Mama's Opry
HIGHER GROUND (Iris DeMent)
[note: lead vocal by Flora Mae DeMent, backing vocals by "The Infamous Angel Choir" (Iris, etc.)]
Traditional, public domain
[Spoken intro by Iris: "No voice has inspired me more than my mother's. She showed me that music is a pathway to higher ground".]
I'm pressing on the upward way
New heights I'm gaining every day
Still praying as I'm onward bound
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
My heart has no desire to stay
where doubts arise and fears dismay
Though some may dwell where these abound
my prayer, my aim, is higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
I want to scale the utmost heights
and catch a gleam of glory bright
but still I'll pray 'til heaven I've found
Lord, lead me on to higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
CD REVIEW
Infamous Angel, Iris Dement, Rounder Records, 1992
Frankly, and I admit this publicly for the first time in this space, I love Ms. Iris Dement. Not personally, of course, but through her voice, her lyrics and her musical presence. This ‘confession’ may seem rather startling coming from a reviewer who is as likely here to go on and on about Bolsheviks, ‘Che’, Leon Trotsky, high communist theory and the like. Especially, as well given Ms. Dement’s seemingly simple quasi- religious themes and commitment to paying homage to her rural background in song. All such discrepancies though go out the window here. Why?
Well, for one, this old radical got a lump in his throat the first time he heard “These Hills”. Okay, that happens sometimes-once- but why did he have the same reaction on the fifth and twelfth hearings? Explain that. I can easily enough. If, on the very, very remotest chance, there is a heaven then I know one of the choir members. Enough said. By the way give a listen to “Sweet Forgiveness” and “After You’ve Gone” (with that great line about 'knowing' every line in her man's face. Then you too will be in love with Ms. Iris Dement. Iris, here is my proposal. If you get tired of fishing the U.P., or wherever, with Mr. Greg Brown, get bored with his endless twaddle about old Iowa farms or going on and on about Grannma's cellar just whistle. Better yet just yodel like you did on “Jimmie Rodgers Going Home” on that “Driftless” CD.
INFAMOUS ANGEL (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Last night before I went to sleep my knees dropped to the floor
I turned me eyes up to the sky and I prayed "Please help me, Lord,
you know I've sowed my wild oats and now the fun's all gone"
and then I heard these tender words
and I put them in my song:
"Infamous Angel come on home
to someone who loves you and knows you needed to roam
Grab your things, a ticket's waiting at the bus depot
for: Infamous Angel, Destination: Home"
I heard heaven's choir rejoicing as the tears broke from my eyes
and all at once it lifted the weight from my past life
I found a pen and I left a note on the dresser drawer
"Infamous Angel, she don't live here anymore"
Infamous Angel come on home
to someone who loves you and knows you needed to roam
Grab your things, a ticket's waiting at the bus depot
for: Infamous Angel, Destination: Home
Then I hurried out the back door as quickly as I could
I went flying down two flights of stairs 'til on the street I stood
and there I took that final look at my old neighbourhood
Then I ran down the street proclaiming "Angel gone for good"
Infamous Angel going home
to someone who loves her and knows she needed to roam
She grabbed her things and claimed the ticket at the bus depot
for: Infamous Angel, Destination: Home
Infamous Angel, Destination: Home
SWEET FORGIVENESS (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
Sweet forgiveness, that's what you give to me
when you hold me close and you say "That's all over"
You don't go looking back,
you don't hold the cards to stack,
you mean what you say.
Sweet forgiveness, you help me see
I'm not near as bad as I sometimes appear to be
When you hold me close and say
"That's all over, and I still love you"
There's no way that I could make up for those angry words I said
Sometimes it gets to hurting and the pain goes to my head
Sweet forgiveness, dear God above
I say we all deserve a taste of this kind of love
Someone who'll hold our hand,
and whisper "I understand, and I still love you"
AFTER YOU'RE GONE (Iris DeMent)
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
There'll be laughter even after you're gone
I'll find reasons to face that empty dawn
'cause I've memorized each line in your face
and not even death can ever erase the story they tell to me
I'll miss you, oh how I'll miss you
I'll dream of you and I'll cry a million tears
but the sorrow will pass and the one thing that will last
is the love that you've given to me
There'll be laughter even after you're gone
I'll find reason and I'll face that empty dawn
'cause I've memorized each line in your face
and not even death could ever erase the story they tell to me
MAMA'S OPRY (Iris DeMent)
[note: harmony vocals provided by Emmylou Harris]
(c) 1992 Songs of Iris/Forerunner Music, Inc. ASCAP
She grew up plain and simple in a farming town
Her daddy played the fiddle and use to do the calling
when they had hoedowns
She said the neighbors would come
and they'd move all my grandma's furniture 'round
and there'd be twenty or more there on the old wooden floor
dancing to a country sound
The Carters and Jimmy Rodgers played her favourite songs
and on Saturday nights there was a radio show
and she would sing along
and I'll never forget her face when she revealed to me
that she'd dreamed about singing at The Grand Ol' Opry
Her eyes, oh how they sparkled when she sang those songs
While she was hanging the clothes on the line
I was a kid just a humming along
Well, I'd be playing in the grass,
to her what might've seemed obliviously
but there ain't no doubt about it, she sure made her mark on me
She played old gospel records on the phonograph
She turned them up loud and we'd sing along
but those days have passed
Just now that I am older it occurs to me
that I was singing in the grandest opry
And we sang Sweet Rose of Sharon, Abide With Me
'til I ride The Gospel Ship to Heaven's Jubilee
and In That Great Triumphant Morning my soul will be free
and My Burdens Will Be Lifted when my Saviour's face I see
So I Don't Want to Get Adjusted to This World below
but I know He'll Pilot Me 'til it comes time to go
Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me
as the sound of my Mama's Opry
And we sang Sweet Rose of Sharon, Abide With Me
'til I ride The Gospel Ship to Heaven's Jubilee
and In That Great Triumphant Morning my soul will be free
and My Burdens Will Be Lifted when my Saviour's face I see
So I Don't Want to Get Adjusted to This World below
but I know He'll Pilot Me 'til it comes time to go
Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me
as the sound of my Mama's Opry
HIGHER GROUND (Iris DeMent)
[note: lead vocal by Flora Mae DeMent, backing vocals by "The Infamous Angel Choir" (Iris, etc.)]
Traditional, public domain
[Spoken intro by Iris: "No voice has inspired me more than my mother's. She showed me that music is a pathway to higher ground".]
I'm pressing on the upward way
New heights I'm gaining every day
Still praying as I'm onward bound
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
My heart has no desire to stay
where doubts arise and fears dismay
Though some may dwell where these abound
my prayer, my aim, is higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
I want to scale the utmost heights
and catch a gleam of glory bright
but still I'll pray 'til heaven I've found
Lord, lead me on to higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
Lord, lift me up and let me stand
by faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found
Lord, plant me feet on higher ground
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