Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Muddy Waters performing I've Got My Mojo Working.
CD Review
The Best Of Mississippi Blues, various artists, Fuel, 2000
Okay, blues aficionados that you are you have heard it all, right? From the old Delta country blues artists who first gave form to the genre, the likes of Charly Patton, Son House, and Mississippi Fred McDowell, through to the heyday of the women touch blues singers like Bessie Smith and Ida Mack, through to the transformative figure like Robert Johnson and Muddy Waters who turned the blues from acoustic (of necessity for lack of electricity) Saturday night juke joint stuff to the electric jiving and arriving hot Midwest urban Saturday night stuff.
And then after you had the basics down you went to the second tier; those who make the blues more sophisticated like Billie Holiday, and other later interpreters, some black, some white, some rock-influenced, some by jazz, and other by various revivalist trends. And in order to get you “doctorate” in blues-ology you delved into the back streets, the singers for nickels and dimes; the chittlin’ circuit where many performers got their start (and too many their finish) with their endless bowling alley, small bar, small restaurant clienteles; the world music blues scene of Tex-Mex, Cajun, and Western swing stuff. And then for post-doctoral work, a look at those who currently keep that now slender tradition alive out on those mean streets and small clubs.
Okay, Mister or Ms. Aficionado, you have some “cred” but how about those of us who are clueless, or just searching for the sound that keeps beating in the back of our heads. Give us a primer. Well, this is a roundabout way of telling you that this little CD under review will give you a sampler of some of the trends that I have mentioned above, especially of the first generation country and electric urban blues milieu. There are others out there but you are on your own to dig the stuff out so that you too can be a “doctor”.
Stick outs here include: Mississippi John Hurt on Casey Jones; Tommy Johnson on Canned Heat Blues; the legendary rocker, Ike Turner on Matchbox, and the also legendary Muddy Waters on I’ve Got My Mojo Working. But, really this whole compilation, as befits an all-star lineup, could have been included.
Showing posts with label country blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label country blues. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
*On Getting “Hip” To The Blues, The Delta Blues - A CD Primer
Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Delta blues great, Bukka White, performing Aberdeen Mississippi Blues
CD Review
The Rough Guide To Delta Blues, various artists, World Music Network, 2002
Okay so the blues have got your attention. Maybe you heard it as background music while traveling and can’t get that sound out of your head, or heard someone strumming in some urban square trying to scratch a few pennies out of those little chords on a guitar. Whatever. You are hooked, or at least intrigued. So you need a little primer of the guys (mainly, guys, but not exclusively so) who taught the guys who taught the guys who you heard on that street corner or in some current concert hall. That is where this nice little CD comes in. In one place and at one sitting you will most of the key guitarists who created the beat and the singers who put words to the mournful sounds about hard women, hard work, hard living and hard liquor. Names like Tommy Johnson, Skip James, Son House, of course, Muddy Waters, Charley Patton and so on.
But wait a minute this is only the beginning of the journey. From there you will need, desperately need, to hear the material John and Alan Lomax recorded back in the days down in the South when these guys were still alive. And, of course, check out Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. Oh, ya, don’t forget the women blues singers who got more renown when they were alive and filling the gin mils and concert halls. And the blues as it moved north to places like Chicago and Detroit. And then people like the Stones, Rory Block, and others who cover the old classics. And don’t forget the Cajun influences, And Tex-Mex, and…. Hell by the time you get done you will be an old codger or codgerette. But here is where you start.
I would direct your attention to several outstanding efforts here, first and foremost a great version of Sitting On Top Of The World by the under-appreciated Mississippi Sheiks; Tommy Johnson on Cool Drink of Water Blues; the incredible Bukka White and his flailing National Steel guitar on Aberdeen Mississippi Blues;, and, Louise Johnson’s On The Wall.
CD Review
The Rough Guide To Delta Blues, various artists, World Music Network, 2002
Okay so the blues have got your attention. Maybe you heard it as background music while traveling and can’t get that sound out of your head, or heard someone strumming in some urban square trying to scratch a few pennies out of those little chords on a guitar. Whatever. You are hooked, or at least intrigued. So you need a little primer of the guys (mainly, guys, but not exclusively so) who taught the guys who taught the guys who you heard on that street corner or in some current concert hall. That is where this nice little CD comes in. In one place and at one sitting you will most of the key guitarists who created the beat and the singers who put words to the mournful sounds about hard women, hard work, hard living and hard liquor. Names like Tommy Johnson, Skip James, Son House, of course, Muddy Waters, Charley Patton and so on.
But wait a minute this is only the beginning of the journey. From there you will need, desperately need, to hear the material John and Alan Lomax recorded back in the days down in the South when these guys were still alive. And, of course, check out Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. Oh, ya, don’t forget the women blues singers who got more renown when they were alive and filling the gin mils and concert halls. And the blues as it moved north to places like Chicago and Detroit. And then people like the Stones, Rory Block, and others who cover the old classics. And don’t forget the Cajun influences, And Tex-Mex, and…. Hell by the time you get done you will be an old codger or codgerette. But here is where you start.
I would direct your attention to several outstanding efforts here, first and foremost a great version of Sitting On Top Of The World by the under-appreciated Mississippi Sheiks; Tommy Johnson on Cool Drink of Water Blues; the incredible Bukka White and his flailing National Steel guitar on Aberdeen Mississippi Blues;, and, Louise Johnson’s On The Wall.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
*Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By-Rory Gallagher's "The Banker's Blues"
Click on the title to link a YouTube film clip of Rory Gallagher performing The Banker's Blues.
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here. Markin.
*********
Markin comment on The Banker's Blues:
Hey, I am only the messenger on this one. I take no personal, political or social responsibility for the lyrics. Well, except maybe a little on the personal front with my own lovin' companion. Okay? Also I was looking for Big Bill Broonzy's version of the song but couldn't find it.
Rory Gallagher
Banker's Blues lyrics
If you got money in the bank,
Don't let your woman draw it out,
Cause she'll take all your money...and,
Then she'll kick you out.
I once had money and a fast Cadillac car,
But I made one big mistake, let my baby know where they are,
And she took all my possessions...and,
Then she threw me out.
Now young men, heed my advice,
I'll tell you once, I may not tell you twice,
Keep an eye on your old lady anytime that she goes steppin' out.
There's only one woman that I hate more,
You know who that is, why that's my mother-in-law,
My baby's pretty fast but her mother's even faster on the draw.
My baby, my little baby I believe she's gonna jump'n shout,
And I walk down to the bank,
And I draw all of my money out.
Well you got money in the bank,
Don't let your woman draw it out,
Cause she'll take all your money...and,
Then she'll throw you out.
In this series, presented under the headline Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here. Markin.
*********
Markin comment on The Banker's Blues:
Hey, I am only the messenger on this one. I take no personal, political or social responsibility for the lyrics. Well, except maybe a little on the personal front with my own lovin' companion. Okay? Also I was looking for Big Bill Broonzy's version of the song but couldn't find it.
Rory Gallagher
Banker's Blues lyrics
If you got money in the bank,
Don't let your woman draw it out,
Cause she'll take all your money...and,
Then she'll kick you out.
I once had money and a fast Cadillac car,
But I made one big mistake, let my baby know where they are,
And she took all my possessions...and,
Then she threw me out.
Now young men, heed my advice,
I'll tell you once, I may not tell you twice,
Keep an eye on your old lady anytime that she goes steppin' out.
There's only one woman that I hate more,
You know who that is, why that's my mother-in-law,
My baby's pretty fast but her mother's even faster on the draw.
My baby, my little baby I believe she's gonna jump'n shout,
And I walk down to the bank,
And I draw all of my money out.
Well you got money in the bank,
Don't let your woman draw it out,
Cause she'll take all your money...and,
Then she'll throw you out.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Preachin' The Blues- Son House
CD REVIEW
The Very Best of Son House , Heroes Of The Blues, Son House, Sony Music, 2003
I recently reviewed Mississippi John Hurt’s "The Last Sessions" in this space. Hurt was ‘discovered’ in the early 1960’s by young, mainly white, folk singers looking to find the roots of American music. Well, Hurt was not the only old black country blues player ‘discovered’ during that period. There is a now famous still picture (as well as well as video performance clip, I wonder if it is on YouTube?) of Hurt along with the legendary Skip James and the musician under review, Son House, jamming at the Newport Folk Festival in 1963. That was a historic (and probably one of the last possible) moments to hear these legends of country blues in one spot together.
And why was House on that stage with Hurt and James? Well, the short answer is that old flailing National steel guitar of his. However, the real answer is that like Hurt he represented a piece of American music that was fast fading away, at least in its original form –the country blues. Can anyone beat the poignancy of "Death Letter Blues" or bitterness of "Levee Moan"? Or when House gets preachy on "John the Revelator" and other old time religious songs of shout and response. The tension between being a preacher man and doing the ‘devil’s work' (playing the blues) is more clearly felt in House’s work than in Hurt’s.
House’s repertoire is not as extensive as Hurt’s and there is a little sameness of some of the lyrics but when he is hot watch out. There is another famous film clip of him alone sitting down in a chair on stage under the hot lights flailing away at the guitar almost trance-like, sweating buckets doing "Death Letter Blues". That is the scene you want to evoke when you listen to this selection. And do listen.
DVD REVIEW
Kicking The Country Blues- Son House and Bukka White
Son House and Bukka White: Masters Of The Country Blues, hosted by Taj Mahal, Yazoo Videos, 1991
I have reviewed the music of country blues legend Son House elsewhere in this space (and above in this entry) and expected to review this documentary solely on the basis of a comment there. I mentioned there that in 1963 Son House, Skip James and Mississippi John Hurt performed at the Newport Folk Festival, a historic Delta blues occasion. One of the vivid cinematic scenes from that event was Son House flailing his National steel guitar, trance like, on the classic "Death Letter Blues". I assumed that I was going to see that performance here. That was not the case. However, with solid introductions to both performers by blues legend Taj Mahal we are treated to a little different look at Son House and a new look at Bukka White.
The Son House segments here concentrate on the lifelong tension between a career in preaching, Baptist style of course, and ‘doin’ the devil’s work’ of singing the blues (and along the way doing a little whiskey drinking, womanizing and hell-raising). House is interviewed here trying to lay out his philosophy, his theology and his acknowledgement that the whiskey and women mainly got the best of him. The actual musical presentation is rather short and religiously oriented- "Death Letter Blues", "John The Revelator" and the like. If you want Son House at his most musical you will have to look elsewhere, mainly to his CDs. If you want to know the man behind the music a little this is for you.
Enough of Son House here though. The real story of this documentary is that the lesser known (at least to me and others that I know who follow the blues) Bukka White steals the show in his segments. Not only is he a better and more versatile guitar player than Son House but he jumps with his musical compositions here. Let us leave it, for now, that if you want to get introduced to Brother White then this is a very good way to start. I might add that in a segment of The Howlin’ Wolf Story that I am also currently in the process of reviewing that White also steals the show from the legendary Wolf with his guitar playing. That said, the reader can expect that Brother White will shortly be getting an individual entry in this space. Yes, indeed, he will.
The Very Best of Son House , Heroes Of The Blues, Son House, Sony Music, 2003
I recently reviewed Mississippi John Hurt’s "The Last Sessions" in this space. Hurt was ‘discovered’ in the early 1960’s by young, mainly white, folk singers looking to find the roots of American music. Well, Hurt was not the only old black country blues player ‘discovered’ during that period. There is a now famous still picture (as well as well as video performance clip, I wonder if it is on YouTube?) of Hurt along with the legendary Skip James and the musician under review, Son House, jamming at the Newport Folk Festival in 1963. That was a historic (and probably one of the last possible) moments to hear these legends of country blues in one spot together.
And why was House on that stage with Hurt and James? Well, the short answer is that old flailing National steel guitar of his. However, the real answer is that like Hurt he represented a piece of American music that was fast fading away, at least in its original form –the country blues. Can anyone beat the poignancy of "Death Letter Blues" or bitterness of "Levee Moan"? Or when House gets preachy on "John the Revelator" and other old time religious songs of shout and response. The tension between being a preacher man and doing the ‘devil’s work' (playing the blues) is more clearly felt in House’s work than in Hurt’s.
House’s repertoire is not as extensive as Hurt’s and there is a little sameness of some of the lyrics but when he is hot watch out. There is another famous film clip of him alone sitting down in a chair on stage under the hot lights flailing away at the guitar almost trance-like, sweating buckets doing "Death Letter Blues". That is the scene you want to evoke when you listen to this selection. And do listen.
DVD REVIEW
Kicking The Country Blues- Son House and Bukka White
Son House and Bukka White: Masters Of The Country Blues, hosted by Taj Mahal, Yazoo Videos, 1991
I have reviewed the music of country blues legend Son House elsewhere in this space (and above in this entry) and expected to review this documentary solely on the basis of a comment there. I mentioned there that in 1963 Son House, Skip James and Mississippi John Hurt performed at the Newport Folk Festival, a historic Delta blues occasion. One of the vivid cinematic scenes from that event was Son House flailing his National steel guitar, trance like, on the classic "Death Letter Blues". I assumed that I was going to see that performance here. That was not the case. However, with solid introductions to both performers by blues legend Taj Mahal we are treated to a little different look at Son House and a new look at Bukka White.
The Son House segments here concentrate on the lifelong tension between a career in preaching, Baptist style of course, and ‘doin’ the devil’s work’ of singing the blues (and along the way doing a little whiskey drinking, womanizing and hell-raising). House is interviewed here trying to lay out his philosophy, his theology and his acknowledgement that the whiskey and women mainly got the best of him. The actual musical presentation is rather short and religiously oriented- "Death Letter Blues", "John The Revelator" and the like. If you want Son House at his most musical you will have to look elsewhere, mainly to his CDs. If you want to know the man behind the music a little this is for you.
Enough of Son House here though. The real story of this documentary is that the lesser known (at least to me and others that I know who follow the blues) Bukka White steals the show in his segments. Not only is he a better and more versatile guitar player than Son House but he jumps with his musical compositions here. Let us leave it, for now, that if you want to get introduced to Brother White then this is a very good way to start. I might add that in a segment of The Howlin’ Wolf Story that I am also currently in the process of reviewing that White also steals the show from the legendary Wolf with his guitar playing. That said, the reader can expect that Brother White will shortly be getting an individual entry in this space. Yes, indeed, he will.
Friday, May 07, 2010
*Walking With The King- The Blues Of B.B. King With Eric Clapton
Click on the headline to link to a "YouTube" film clip of B.B. King and Eric Clapton performing "Riding With The King".
CD Review
Riding With The King, B.B. King and Eric Clapton, Reprise Records, 2000
Over the past couple of years I have spent a fair amount of time reviewing various blues artists who “spoke” to me when I first got interested in the folksy county blues of the likes of Son House and Skip James back in the folk revival days of the early 1960s. And then the steamy city blues of Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf. Now those last named two came out of the country, the Mississippi Delta cotton country, but when they went north to Chicago and got some electricity they transformed themselves and the genre. No question.
The blues, especially the country blues, got a great impetus from the folk revival of the early 1960s, as the country blues of Son and Skip along with Mississippi John Hurt got more play from young, mainly Northern urban folkies who “discovered” them. The real impetus behind the “discovery” of the likes of Muddy and Wolf, as well as one of the two artists under review here, B.B. King, was the “British invasion”. While we teenagers on this side of the Atlantic were hung up with Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis, and rightly so, the “lads” in England like The Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and the other artist featured here, Eric Clapton, were trying to get every blues record, city or country, they could lay their hands on.
Thus it seems fitting, in a way, that B.B. King and Eric Clapton, clearly two ambassadors for the blues should team up and let it rip through some of the classics of the genre. Now I have a confession to make. Although I have spilled much ink in this space on many old time blues artists, some well known, others strictly for aficionados, I have not mentioned B.B. King, except in passing. This is solely a matter of personal preference. B.B. and his ever present “Lucille”, with the exception of a few early numbers, never really “spoke” to me like Howlin’ Wolf, for one, did.
There is no question, however, that B.B. is a master on the guitar. Nor any question that he is a great bluesman in the old fashion sense and no question that when he teams up with Clapton here they “smoke” on some of the songs. So that only leaves what is good here. Well, certainly the title track, “Riding With The King”, the country blues classic, “Keys To The Highway”, “Worried Life Blues”, and “I Wanna Be”. Those will keep you jumpin’.
"Riding With The King" Lyrics
I dreamed I had a good job and I got well paid,
I blew it all at the penny arcade,
A hundred dollars on a cupid doll,
No pretty chick is gonna make me crawl,
And I teetered the way to the promised land,
Every woman, child and man,
Get your caddilac and a great big diamond ring,
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
He's on a mission of mercy, to the new fronteir,
He's gonna take us all outta' here,
Up to that mansion, on a hill,
Where you can get your prescription pill
And I teetered the way to the promised land,
Everybody clap your hands,
And don't you dirts love the way that he sings?
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
You're riding with the king!
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
A tuxedo and a shining green burning five,
You can see it in his face, the blues is alive,
Tonight everybody's getting their angel wings,
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
I stepped out of Mississippi when I was ten years old,
With a suit cut sharp as a razor and a heart made of gold.
I had a guitar hanging just about waist high,
And I'm gonna play this thing until the day I die.
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
(You're riding with me baby)
(You got good hands)
(Yes, you're riding with the king)
(I wanted to say B.B. King, but you know who the king is)
CD Review
Riding With The King, B.B. King and Eric Clapton, Reprise Records, 2000
Over the past couple of years I have spent a fair amount of time reviewing various blues artists who “spoke” to me when I first got interested in the folksy county blues of the likes of Son House and Skip James back in the folk revival days of the early 1960s. And then the steamy city blues of Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf. Now those last named two came out of the country, the Mississippi Delta cotton country, but when they went north to Chicago and got some electricity they transformed themselves and the genre. No question.
The blues, especially the country blues, got a great impetus from the folk revival of the early 1960s, as the country blues of Son and Skip along with Mississippi John Hurt got more play from young, mainly Northern urban folkies who “discovered” them. The real impetus behind the “discovery” of the likes of Muddy and Wolf, as well as one of the two artists under review here, B.B. King, was the “British invasion”. While we teenagers on this side of the Atlantic were hung up with Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis, and rightly so, the “lads” in England like The Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and the other artist featured here, Eric Clapton, were trying to get every blues record, city or country, they could lay their hands on.
Thus it seems fitting, in a way, that B.B. King and Eric Clapton, clearly two ambassadors for the blues should team up and let it rip through some of the classics of the genre. Now I have a confession to make. Although I have spilled much ink in this space on many old time blues artists, some well known, others strictly for aficionados, I have not mentioned B.B. King, except in passing. This is solely a matter of personal preference. B.B. and his ever present “Lucille”, with the exception of a few early numbers, never really “spoke” to me like Howlin’ Wolf, for one, did.
There is no question, however, that B.B. is a master on the guitar. Nor any question that he is a great bluesman in the old fashion sense and no question that when he teams up with Clapton here they “smoke” on some of the songs. So that only leaves what is good here. Well, certainly the title track, “Riding With The King”, the country blues classic, “Keys To The Highway”, “Worried Life Blues”, and “I Wanna Be”. Those will keep you jumpin’.
"Riding With The King" Lyrics
I dreamed I had a good job and I got well paid,
I blew it all at the penny arcade,
A hundred dollars on a cupid doll,
No pretty chick is gonna make me crawl,
And I teetered the way to the promised land,
Every woman, child and man,
Get your caddilac and a great big diamond ring,
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
He's on a mission of mercy, to the new fronteir,
He's gonna take us all outta' here,
Up to that mansion, on a hill,
Where you can get your prescription pill
And I teetered the way to the promised land,
Everybody clap your hands,
And don't you dirts love the way that he sings?
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
You're riding with the king!
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
A tuxedo and a shining green burning five,
You can see it in his face, the blues is alive,
Tonight everybody's getting their angel wings,
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
I stepped out of Mississippi when I was ten years old,
With a suit cut sharp as a razor and a heart made of gold.
I had a guitar hanging just about waist high,
And I'm gonna play this thing until the day I die.
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
Don't you know you're riding with the king?
(You're riding with me baby)
(You got good hands)
(Yes, you're riding with the king)
(I wanted to say B.B. King, but you know who the king is)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Fishing Blues" — Henry Thomas (1928)
Click on the title to link to a presentation by the artist or of the song listed in the headline.
The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure
Henry Thomas - Fishing Blues Lyrics
Went up on the hill about twelve o'clock.
Reached right back and got me a pole.
Went to the hardware and got me a hook.
Attached that line right on that hook.
Says you've been a-fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin' fishin' too.
I bet your life, your lovin'wife.
Can catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite if you've got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm a-goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
Looked down the river about one o'clock.
Spied this catfish swimmin' around.
I've got so hungry, didn't know what to do.
I'm gonna get me a catfish too.
Yes, you've been fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
I bet your life your lovin' wife.
Catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite, got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
Put on your skillet, don't never mind your lead.
Mama gonna cook 'em with the short'nin' bread.
Says you been fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin a-fishin' too.
I bet your life, your lovin' wife.
Can catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite, if you've got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure
Henry Thomas - Fishing Blues Lyrics
Went up on the hill about twelve o'clock.
Reached right back and got me a pole.
Went to the hardware and got me a hook.
Attached that line right on that hook.
Says you've been a-fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin' fishin' too.
I bet your life, your lovin'wife.
Can catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite if you've got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm a-goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
Looked down the river about one o'clock.
Spied this catfish swimmin' around.
I've got so hungry, didn't know what to do.
I'm gonna get me a catfish too.
Yes, you've been fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
I bet your life your lovin' wife.
Catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite, got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
Put on your skillet, don't never mind your lead.
Mama gonna cook 'em with the short'nin' bread.
Says you been fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin a-fishin' too.
I bet your life, your lovin' wife.
Can catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite, if you've got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
Friday, December 11, 2009
*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-Volume One-Ballads-"Henry Lee" — Dick Justice (1932)
Click on the title to link to a presentation by the artist or of the song listed in the headline.
The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.
"Henry Lee"
Get down get down little Henry Lee
And stay all night with me
The very best lodging I can afford
Will be far better with thee
I can't get down I won't get down
And stay all night with thee
For the girl I have in that merry green land
I love far better than thee
She leaned herself against the fence
Just for a kiss or two
With a little pen knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through
Come all you ladies in the town
A secret for me keep
With a diamond ring held on my hand
I'll never will forsake
Some take him by his lily white hand
Some take him by his feet
We'll throw him in this deep deep well
More than one hundred feet
Lie there lie there loving Henry Lee
Till the flesh drops from your bones
The girl you have in that merry green land
Still waits for your return
Fly down fly down you little bird
And alight on my right knee
Your cage will be the purest gold
In deed of property
I can't fly down I won't fly down
And alight on your right knee
A girl would murder her own true love
Would kill a little bird like me
If I had my bended bow
My arrow and my sling
I'd pierce a dart so nigh your heart
Your warble would be in vain
If you had your bended bow
Your arrow and your sling
I'd fly away to the merry green land
And tell what I have seen
The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.
"Henry Lee"
Get down get down little Henry Lee
And stay all night with me
The very best lodging I can afford
Will be far better with thee
I can't get down I won't get down
And stay all night with thee
For the girl I have in that merry green land
I love far better than thee
She leaned herself against the fence
Just for a kiss or two
With a little pen knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through
Come all you ladies in the town
A secret for me keep
With a diamond ring held on my hand
I'll never will forsake
Some take him by his lily white hand
Some take him by his feet
We'll throw him in this deep deep well
More than one hundred feet
Lie there lie there loving Henry Lee
Till the flesh drops from your bones
The girl you have in that merry green land
Still waits for your return
Fly down fly down you little bird
And alight on my right knee
Your cage will be the purest gold
In deed of property
I can't fly down I won't fly down
And alight on your right knee
A girl would murder her own true love
Would kill a little bird like me
If I had my bended bow
My arrow and my sling
I'd pierce a dart so nigh your heart
Your warble would be in vain
If you had your bended bow
Your arrow and your sling
I'd fly away to the merry green land
And tell what I have seen
*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Fatal Flower Garden" — Nelstone's Hawaiians (1930)
Click on the title to link to a presentation by the artist or of the song listed in the headline.
The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.
Remembering the Old Songs:
The Fatal Flower Garden
by Lyle Lofgren
(Originally published: Inside Bluegrass, December 1997)
Now that we're having our yearly lesson about Peace On Earth And Good Will To Men, here's a little test: do you believe that the events described in this song ever happened? If you do, you have lots of company. After all, stories like these are why we warn our children not to get into cars with strangers or to accept invitations to visit fatal flower gardens. British versions of this ballad give lots of specifics, allowing scholars (see Child #155) to find the event in written records. The Annals Of Waverly for the year 1255 give the whole story: Hugh, of Lincoln, age nine, is enticed into a Jew's garden, after which he's tortured and crucified to mock Christians (a particularly stupid act in a Christian country like England). They try to hide the body (which makes no sense if it's a mocking act), but it can't be discarded. When buried or thrown in the river, it miraculously reappears. It's thrown in a well, but it floats, and, when brought up, a blind woman touches it and regains her sight. After some torture, the Jews confess, resulting in their execution, along with that of dozens of other (mostly wealthy) Jews throughout England.
Not satisfied with such specifics, Child follows the story back to at least 419 C.E. in Syria, and he cites examples from all the European countries. The stories are usually specific as to the boy's name and age, giving location and date. A similar story set in Spain was the inspiration for Ferdinand and Isabella's creation of the Spanish Inquisition. Given the history of this past sad century, you would not be surprised to find that the story has wide currency in Germany, Poland, and Russia.
The best way to learn this song is to buy a copy of Smithsonian-Folkways reissue of the monumental Folkways Anthology Of American Folk Music. Besides eighty-three other fabulous pieces, you'll get this version performed by a southern Alabama duet called Nelstone's Hawaiians. The tune seems to ask for modern (for the 1920s) techniques, like the smooth singing harmony and slide Hawaiian (Dobro) guitar (tuned DGBGBD) used on the recording. I like to add the lush chords of an autoharp, but ordinary guitars work fine, also.
When our children were pre-teens, we'd sing them songs on long drives to alleviate boredom. They repeatedly requested this one. I'm not sure why - maybe it was the ritual nature of the boy's instructions at the end, or maybe it was the finger rings. We were careful to point out that it was fiction, and they have not grown up to be Gypsyphobics. Still, this is a difficult song, because we find it so easy to believe that, as Sartre put it, "Evil is the other." Instilling fear of evil therefore involves fear of the outsider. But fear is as corrosive as hate, and although we warn our children about strangers, family members commit almost all child murders. How do you warn about that?
Complete Lyrics:
It rained, it poured, it rained so hard,
It rained so hard all day,
That all the boys in our school
Came out to toss and play.
They tossed a ball again so high,
Then again, so low;
They tossed it into a flower garden
Where no-one was allowed to go.
Up stepped a gypsy lady,
All dressed in yellow and green;
"Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,
And get your ball again."
"I can't come in, I shan't come in
Without my playmates all;
I'll go to my father and tell him about it,
That'll cause tears to fall."
She first showed him an apple seed,
Then again gold rings,
Then she showed him a diamond,
That enticed him in.
She took him by his lily-white hand,
She led him through the hall;
She put him in an upper room,
Where no-one could hear him call.
"Oh, take these finger rings off my finger,
Smoke them with your breath;
If any of my friends should call for me,
Tell them that I'm at rest."
"Bury the bible at my head,
A testament at my feet;
If my dear mother should call for me,
Tell her that I'm asleep."
"Bury the bible at my feet,
A testament at my head;
If my dear father should call for me,
Tell him that I am dead."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bibliography
This is one of the most popular of the old ballads. There are fully 21 texts in the Child collection, where it is piece #155. Bronson reports the amazing total of 66 tunes. It has been reported throughout England, in parts of Scotland, in Ireland, in the Canadian Maritimes, and in all parts of the U.S. east of the Mississippi (though rarely if ever west of it). American versions are reported by, among others, Randolph (#25), Eddy (#20), Flanders/Olney, (pp. 30-32, Little Harry Huston), McNeil (pp. 147-149, Sonny Hugh), and Sharp (assorted versions).
We might add that the account in the Annals of Waverly is almost universally held to be unhistorical. This tale probably does not arise from actual events, but from fear of outsiders. For example, in many versions the child-stealer is a Gypsy -- but there is not one verified instance of child-stealing by Gypsies.
The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.
Remembering the Old Songs:
The Fatal Flower Garden
by Lyle Lofgren
(Originally published: Inside Bluegrass, December 1997)
Now that we're having our yearly lesson about Peace On Earth And Good Will To Men, here's a little test: do you believe that the events described in this song ever happened? If you do, you have lots of company. After all, stories like these are why we warn our children not to get into cars with strangers or to accept invitations to visit fatal flower gardens. British versions of this ballad give lots of specifics, allowing scholars (see Child #155) to find the event in written records. The Annals Of Waverly for the year 1255 give the whole story: Hugh, of Lincoln, age nine, is enticed into a Jew's garden, after which he's tortured and crucified to mock Christians (a particularly stupid act in a Christian country like England). They try to hide the body (which makes no sense if it's a mocking act), but it can't be discarded. When buried or thrown in the river, it miraculously reappears. It's thrown in a well, but it floats, and, when brought up, a blind woman touches it and regains her sight. After some torture, the Jews confess, resulting in their execution, along with that of dozens of other (mostly wealthy) Jews throughout England.
Not satisfied with such specifics, Child follows the story back to at least 419 C.E. in Syria, and he cites examples from all the European countries. The stories are usually specific as to the boy's name and age, giving location and date. A similar story set in Spain was the inspiration for Ferdinand and Isabella's creation of the Spanish Inquisition. Given the history of this past sad century, you would not be surprised to find that the story has wide currency in Germany, Poland, and Russia.
The best way to learn this song is to buy a copy of Smithsonian-Folkways reissue of the monumental Folkways Anthology Of American Folk Music. Besides eighty-three other fabulous pieces, you'll get this version performed by a southern Alabama duet called Nelstone's Hawaiians. The tune seems to ask for modern (for the 1920s) techniques, like the smooth singing harmony and slide Hawaiian (Dobro) guitar (tuned DGBGBD) used on the recording. I like to add the lush chords of an autoharp, but ordinary guitars work fine, also.
When our children were pre-teens, we'd sing them songs on long drives to alleviate boredom. They repeatedly requested this one. I'm not sure why - maybe it was the ritual nature of the boy's instructions at the end, or maybe it was the finger rings. We were careful to point out that it was fiction, and they have not grown up to be Gypsyphobics. Still, this is a difficult song, because we find it so easy to believe that, as Sartre put it, "Evil is the other." Instilling fear of evil therefore involves fear of the outsider. But fear is as corrosive as hate, and although we warn our children about strangers, family members commit almost all child murders. How do you warn about that?
Complete Lyrics:
It rained, it poured, it rained so hard,
It rained so hard all day,
That all the boys in our school
Came out to toss and play.
They tossed a ball again so high,
Then again, so low;
They tossed it into a flower garden
Where no-one was allowed to go.
Up stepped a gypsy lady,
All dressed in yellow and green;
"Come in, come in, my pretty little boy,
And get your ball again."
"I can't come in, I shan't come in
Without my playmates all;
I'll go to my father and tell him about it,
That'll cause tears to fall."
She first showed him an apple seed,
Then again gold rings,
Then she showed him a diamond,
That enticed him in.
She took him by his lily-white hand,
She led him through the hall;
She put him in an upper room,
Where no-one could hear him call.
"Oh, take these finger rings off my finger,
Smoke them with your breath;
If any of my friends should call for me,
Tell them that I'm at rest."
"Bury the bible at my head,
A testament at my feet;
If my dear mother should call for me,
Tell her that I'm asleep."
"Bury the bible at my feet,
A testament at my head;
If my dear father should call for me,
Tell him that I am dead."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bibliography
This is one of the most popular of the old ballads. There are fully 21 texts in the Child collection, where it is piece #155. Bronson reports the amazing total of 66 tunes. It has been reported throughout England, in parts of Scotland, in Ireland, in the Canadian Maritimes, and in all parts of the U.S. east of the Mississippi (though rarely if ever west of it). American versions are reported by, among others, Randolph (#25), Eddy (#20), Flanders/Olney, (pp. 30-32, Little Harry Huston), McNeil (pp. 147-149, Sonny Hugh), and Sharp (assorted versions).
We might add that the account in the Annals of Waverly is almost universally held to be unhistorical. This tale probably does not arise from actual events, but from fear of outsiders. For example, in many versions the child-stealer is a Gypsy -- but there is not one verified instance of child-stealing by Gypsies.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Once More Into The Time Capsule, Part Three- The New York Folk Revival Scene in the Early 1960’s-Taj Mahal
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Taj Mahal performing John Hurt's "Candy Man". John would be proud.
CD Review
Washington Square Memoirs: The Great Urban Folk Revival Boom, 1950-1970, various artists, 3CD set, Rhino Records, 2001
Except for the reference to the origins of the talent brought to the city the same comments apply for this CD.Rather than repeat information that is readily available in the booklet and on the discs I’ll finish up here with some recommendations of songs that I believe that you should be sure to listen to:
Disc Three: Phil Ochs on “I Ain’t Marching Anymore”, Richard &Mimi Farina on “Pack Up Your Sorrows”, John Hammond on “Drop Down Mama”, Jim Kweskin & The Jug Band on “Rag Mama”, John Denver on “Bells Of Rhymney”, Gordon Lightfoot on "Early Morning Rain”, Eric Andersen on “Thirsty Boots”, Tim Hardin on “Reason To Believe”, Richie Havens on “Just Like A Woman”, Judy Collins on “Suzanne”, Tim Buckley on “Once I Was”, Tom Rush on “The Circle Game”, Taj Mahal on “Candy Man”, Loudon Wainwright III on “School Days”and Arlo Guthrie on “The Motorcycle Song”
Taj Mahal on “Candy Man”. Taj covering old John Hurt’s salacious tune. That’s the ticket. Taj will be getting a more extensive review later when I look at his work in greater depth. Enough here to say this man knows the roots of his music, the blues, and expands and contracts his work from that perspective.
"Mississippi John Hurt Candy Man lyrics"
Well all you ladies gather 'round
That good sweet candy man's in town
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
He likes a stick of candy just nine inch long
He sells as fast a hog can chew his corn
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
All heard what sister Johnson said
She always takes a candy stick to bed
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
Don't stand close to the candy man
He'll leave a big candy stick in your hand
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
He sold some candy to sister Bad
The very next day she took all he had
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
If you try his candy, good friend of mine,
you sure will want it for a long long time
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
His stick candy don't melt away
It just gets better, so the ladies say
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
CD Review
Washington Square Memoirs: The Great Urban Folk Revival Boom, 1950-1970, various artists, 3CD set, Rhino Records, 2001
Except for the reference to the origins of the talent brought to the city the same comments apply for this CD.Rather than repeat information that is readily available in the booklet and on the discs I’ll finish up here with some recommendations of songs that I believe that you should be sure to listen to:
Disc Three: Phil Ochs on “I Ain’t Marching Anymore”, Richard &Mimi Farina on “Pack Up Your Sorrows”, John Hammond on “Drop Down Mama”, Jim Kweskin & The Jug Band on “Rag Mama”, John Denver on “Bells Of Rhymney”, Gordon Lightfoot on "Early Morning Rain”, Eric Andersen on “Thirsty Boots”, Tim Hardin on “Reason To Believe”, Richie Havens on “Just Like A Woman”, Judy Collins on “Suzanne”, Tim Buckley on “Once I Was”, Tom Rush on “The Circle Game”, Taj Mahal on “Candy Man”, Loudon Wainwright III on “School Days”and Arlo Guthrie on “The Motorcycle Song”
Taj Mahal on “Candy Man”. Taj covering old John Hurt’s salacious tune. That’s the ticket. Taj will be getting a more extensive review later when I look at his work in greater depth. Enough here to say this man knows the roots of his music, the blues, and expands and contracts his work from that perspective.
"Mississippi John Hurt Candy Man lyrics"
Well all you ladies gather 'round
That good sweet candy man's in town
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
He likes a stick of candy just nine inch long
He sells as fast a hog can chew his corn
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
All heard what sister Johnson said
She always takes a candy stick to bed
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
Don't stand close to the candy man
He'll leave a big candy stick in your hand
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
He sold some candy to sister Bad
The very next day she took all he had
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
If you try his candy, good friend of mine,
you sure will want it for a long long time
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
His stick candy don't melt away
It just gets better, so the ladies say
It's the candy man
It's the candy man
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
*It Ain’t Always About Politics- The Recorded Topical Folk Song in American History- Man Versus Nature
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Charlie Patton Performing "High Water Everywhere, Part 2".
CD Review
People Take Warning!: Murder Ballads& Disaster Songs, 1913-1938, Three CD Set, Tompkins Square, 2007
Yes, for the umpth time, I am deep in research of the roots, the many roots of American folk music. As part of this search I have spilled plenty of ink over the folk revival of the 1960’s, and its links to today’s folk scene, that I have the most intimate knowledge about. But that is hardly the end of the story. In fact the 1960’s folk revival is something of the tail end of a vast exploration done by a few musicologists, most famously the father and son team of John and Alan Lomax. While the revival itself explored many kinds of music from the mountains of Appalachia to the plains of Texas and beyond the “rage” for roots then, exploited most effectively by the likes of Bob Dylan, centered on the topical songs of the day done by in the age old manner of the traveling troubadours of yore.
While the subject matter of the 1960’s scene, naturally, tendered toward the overtly political around the issues of conventional war, nuclear disarmament, the fierce civil rights struggle in the American South that dominated all serious talk, social isolation, the rebellion against social conformity and the like historically the “singing” newspaper tradition was far from those “deep” concerns. The tendency was to be more personal either with songs of love. longing for love or of thwarted love or on a more mundane level disaster, manmade or natural, murders and other sensational crimes and whatever other local gossip could be turned into a ballad. But beyond that, as this compilation bears witness to every song seemingly had to provide a cautionary note.
Whether that note was to beware of getting to dependent on the emerging whirlwind of the newest technologies like the airplane or “unsinkable” ships, the mysteries of natural disasters like floods and fire or the hazards of pre-martial sex, being a vexing wife or coveting another man’s the hand of “God” was written all over these things. People take warning was not only, or merely, a convenient metaphor to set the parameters of the song. That is what this three CD set is all about. So if you want to know about train wrecks ship wrecks, grizzly murders, the sorrows of the Great Depression and other obscure tales from the early 20th century then here is your chance to those subjects all in one place. And, incidentally, with a very nice and informative booklet of liner notes included, a grand piece of the puzzle of roots musical history and a small capsule of American everyday history.
Disc Two: Man Versus Nature. Although the marvels of modern technology have provided an increasing share of stories about the vagaries of the machine age old “Mother Nature”, especially when observed up close as is the case down on the farm or out on the prairies still confounds us with her fury. We need only go back a few years to Hurricane Katrina to get very quickly reminded of our sometimes precarious position in the scheme of things. Floods and fires are center stage in this disc and no such compilation on this subject can be complete without the work of the “pre-blues” man Charlie Patton here on several tracks, most importantly those two parts of “High Water Everywhere”. Uncle Dave Mason deserves a nod for “Tennessee Tornado” as does a young Son House for “Dry Spell Blues”. Also of note is Charlie Poole’s “Baltimore Fire” that Kate and Anna McGarrigle covered several years ago.
CD Review
People Take Warning!: Murder Ballads& Disaster Songs, 1913-1938, Three CD Set, Tompkins Square, 2007
Yes, for the umpth time, I am deep in research of the roots, the many roots of American folk music. As part of this search I have spilled plenty of ink over the folk revival of the 1960’s, and its links to today’s folk scene, that I have the most intimate knowledge about. But that is hardly the end of the story. In fact the 1960’s folk revival is something of the tail end of a vast exploration done by a few musicologists, most famously the father and son team of John and Alan Lomax. While the revival itself explored many kinds of music from the mountains of Appalachia to the plains of Texas and beyond the “rage” for roots then, exploited most effectively by the likes of Bob Dylan, centered on the topical songs of the day done by in the age old manner of the traveling troubadours of yore.
While the subject matter of the 1960’s scene, naturally, tendered toward the overtly political around the issues of conventional war, nuclear disarmament, the fierce civil rights struggle in the American South that dominated all serious talk, social isolation, the rebellion against social conformity and the like historically the “singing” newspaper tradition was far from those “deep” concerns. The tendency was to be more personal either with songs of love. longing for love or of thwarted love or on a more mundane level disaster, manmade or natural, murders and other sensational crimes and whatever other local gossip could be turned into a ballad. But beyond that, as this compilation bears witness to every song seemingly had to provide a cautionary note.
Whether that note was to beware of getting to dependent on the emerging whirlwind of the newest technologies like the airplane or “unsinkable” ships, the mysteries of natural disasters like floods and fire or the hazards of pre-martial sex, being a vexing wife or coveting another man’s the hand of “God” was written all over these things. People take warning was not only, or merely, a convenient metaphor to set the parameters of the song. That is what this three CD set is all about. So if you want to know about train wrecks ship wrecks, grizzly murders, the sorrows of the Great Depression and other obscure tales from the early 20th century then here is your chance to those subjects all in one place. And, incidentally, with a very nice and informative booklet of liner notes included, a grand piece of the puzzle of roots musical history and a small capsule of American everyday history.
Disc Two: Man Versus Nature. Although the marvels of modern technology have provided an increasing share of stories about the vagaries of the machine age old “Mother Nature”, especially when observed up close as is the case down on the farm or out on the prairies still confounds us with her fury. We need only go back a few years to Hurricane Katrina to get very quickly reminded of our sometimes precarious position in the scheme of things. Floods and fires are center stage in this disc and no such compilation on this subject can be complete without the work of the “pre-blues” man Charlie Patton here on several tracks, most importantly those two parts of “High Water Everywhere”. Uncle Dave Mason deserves a nod for “Tennessee Tornado” as does a young Son House for “Dry Spell Blues”. Also of note is Charlie Poole’s “Baltimore Fire” that Kate and Anna McGarrigle covered several years ago.
*It Ain’t Always About Politics- The Recorded Topical Folk Song in American History-Man Versus Machine
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Furry Lewis Performing " When I Lay My Burden Down".
CD Review
People Take Warning!: Murder Ballads& Disaster Songs, 1913-1938, Three CD Set, Tompkins Square, 2007
Yes, for the umpth time, I am deep in research of the roots, the many roots of American folk music. As part of this search I have spilled plenty of ink over the folk revival of the 1960’s, and its links to today’s folk scene, that I have the most intimate knowledge about. But that is hardly the end of the story. In fact the 1960’s folk revival is something of the tail end of a vast exploration done by a few musicologists, most famously the father and son team of John and Alan Lomax. While the revival itself explored many kinds of music from the mountains of Appalachia to the plains of Texas and beyond the “rage” for roots then, exploited most effectively by the likes of Bob Dylan, centered on the topical songs of the day done by in the age old manner of the traveling troubadours of yore.
While the subject matter of the 1960’s scene, naturally, tendered toward the overtly political around the issues of conventional war, nuclear disarmament, the fierce civil rights struggle in the American South that dominated all serious talk, social isolation, the rebellion against social conformity and the like historically the “singing” newspaper tradition was far from those “deep” concerns. The tendency was to be more personal either with songs of love. longing for love or of thwarted love or on a more mundane level disaster, manmade or natural, murders and other sensational crimes and whatever other local gossip could be turned into a ballad. But beyond that, as this compilation bears witness to every song seemingly had to provide a cautionary note.
Whether that note was to beware of getting to dependent on the emerging whirlwind of the newest technologies like the airplane or “unsinkable” ships, the mysteries of natural disasters like floods and fire or the hazards of pre-martial sex, being a vexing wife or coveting another man’s the hand of “God” was written all over these things. People take warning was not only, or merely, a convenient metaphor to set the parameters of the song. That is what this three CD set is all about. So if you want to know about train wrecks ship wrecks, grizzly murders, the sorrows of the Great Depression and other obscure tales from the early 20th century then here is your chance to those subjects all in one place. And, incidentally, with a very nice and informative booklet of liner notes included, a grand piece of the puzzle of roots musical history and a small capsule of American everyday history.
Disc One: Man Versus Machine. If your thing is plane wrecks, train wrecks and ship sinkings then this disc will provide you will all you need to know about the hazards involved in the early stages of the modern transportation revolution, especially if you need to know about 57 versions of the sinking of the “unsinkable” Titanic. The best of that lot is the William and Versy Smith cover of “When That Great Ship Went Down” that I remember Cambridge resident folkie Eric Von Schmidt covering in the early 1960’s. As for trains there is nothing better than the legendary country blues guitar impresario Furry Lewis, an artist whose work I have reviewed individually in this space, performing his two part of “Kassie Jones”. The Skillet Lickers “Wreck of The Old 97” also deserves a listen. Finally Blind Alfred Reed, another artist covered individually here, has a couple of things, most prominently “The Wreck Of The Old Virginian” you must listen to.
CD Review
People Take Warning!: Murder Ballads& Disaster Songs, 1913-1938, Three CD Set, Tompkins Square, 2007
Yes, for the umpth time, I am deep in research of the roots, the many roots of American folk music. As part of this search I have spilled plenty of ink over the folk revival of the 1960’s, and its links to today’s folk scene, that I have the most intimate knowledge about. But that is hardly the end of the story. In fact the 1960’s folk revival is something of the tail end of a vast exploration done by a few musicologists, most famously the father and son team of John and Alan Lomax. While the revival itself explored many kinds of music from the mountains of Appalachia to the plains of Texas and beyond the “rage” for roots then, exploited most effectively by the likes of Bob Dylan, centered on the topical songs of the day done by in the age old manner of the traveling troubadours of yore.
While the subject matter of the 1960’s scene, naturally, tendered toward the overtly political around the issues of conventional war, nuclear disarmament, the fierce civil rights struggle in the American South that dominated all serious talk, social isolation, the rebellion against social conformity and the like historically the “singing” newspaper tradition was far from those “deep” concerns. The tendency was to be more personal either with songs of love. longing for love or of thwarted love or on a more mundane level disaster, manmade or natural, murders and other sensational crimes and whatever other local gossip could be turned into a ballad. But beyond that, as this compilation bears witness to every song seemingly had to provide a cautionary note.
Whether that note was to beware of getting to dependent on the emerging whirlwind of the newest technologies like the airplane or “unsinkable” ships, the mysteries of natural disasters like floods and fire or the hazards of pre-martial sex, being a vexing wife or coveting another man’s the hand of “God” was written all over these things. People take warning was not only, or merely, a convenient metaphor to set the parameters of the song. That is what this three CD set is all about. So if you want to know about train wrecks ship wrecks, grizzly murders, the sorrows of the Great Depression and other obscure tales from the early 20th century then here is your chance to those subjects all in one place. And, incidentally, with a very nice and informative booklet of liner notes included, a grand piece of the puzzle of roots musical history and a small capsule of American everyday history.
Disc One: Man Versus Machine. If your thing is plane wrecks, train wrecks and ship sinkings then this disc will provide you will all you need to know about the hazards involved in the early stages of the modern transportation revolution, especially if you need to know about 57 versions of the sinking of the “unsinkable” Titanic. The best of that lot is the William and Versy Smith cover of “When That Great Ship Went Down” that I remember Cambridge resident folkie Eric Von Schmidt covering in the early 1960’s. As for trains there is nothing better than the legendary country blues guitar impresario Furry Lewis, an artist whose work I have reviewed individually in this space, performing his two part of “Kassie Jones”. The Skillet Lickers “Wreck of The Old 97” also deserves a listen. Finally Blind Alfred Reed, another artist covered individually here, has a couple of things, most prominently “The Wreck Of The Old Virginian” you must listen to.
Monday, October 12, 2009
*There Is No Eye, Indeed- John Cohen’s Music For Photographs
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The New Lost City Ramblers Performing "The Soldier And The Lady".
CD (Plus Booklet Of Photographs) Review
There Is No Eye: Music For Photographs, music by various performers and photographs by John Cohen, Smithsonian/Folkways (Of course), 2001
Recently I was asked by a commenter on one of my blog sites how this current rash of reviews of mountain music, roots music or what have you that I have been frantically writing relates to the general theme of my work, reviews and comments on the history of the left in America and our current propaganda tasks. Good question. Hidden away in the recesses of trying to understand our common plebeian political history and why we have been on the political defensive for almost one hundred years now in our efforts to bring some social justice to this beleaguered country and establish some sense of working class consciousness is a rich, if underappreciated, body of cultural work, including musical, artistic and literary work, trying, one way or another, to do just that thing.
Those cultural efforts may not have always been, consciously or not, on the order of what is necessary to turn the capitalist regime out. They may not have always been made to order for our more thoroughly thought out theories of social struggle. And, certainly, the works and their creators or performers may not have always been “politically correct” and we may be forced to create an every day policy akin to the American military’s policy on the question of gays in the service- “don’t ask, don’t tell” in regard to some of the musical characters that are given space here but this is our common history- warts and all. The point to move on from there.
All of the above is by way of introducing a very interesting piece of Americana put out in 2001 by, one could almost say naturally, by Smithsonian/Folkways. As the headline to this review indicates this CD combines roots music and photographs by John Cohen of the performers in question to accompany that music. For those not familiar with the folk revival of the 1960’s John Cohen was already waiting at the gate for the young folkies to arrive at Greenwich Village. He, along with Tom Paley and Mike Seeger (venerable Pete’s half-brother), had already formed The New Lost City Ramblers who were an important catalyst in finding and “discovering” much roots music- just because they thought it was important to keep that tradition alive. Well, what do you think about that?
Almost every one familiar with roots music knows of the work of Pete Seeger’s father in going out into the field to record or listen to roots music back in the day. As many, perhaps, know of Pete’s own work in this area. Moreover, it is almost impossible to be interested in this genre and not know the work of John and then his son Alan Lomax (and to a much lesser extent Harry Smith). Many fewer, including this reviewer, knew of the field work of John Cohen, as least in taking pictures of musicians in the field. There is a 36 page booklet that accompanies this CD filled with liner notes and some of those photographs. This, my friends, is part of our history. Yes, part of our American left history.
For those non-believers let me just give a few examples to whet your appetite. How about Reverend Gary Davis, a country blues guitar virtuoso who has been the subject of more than one review in this space doing.” If I Had My Way”. Of course from the urban blue genre an early Muddy Waters doing “I Can’t Be Satisfied”. Or a very young Bob Dylan doing a song (on a radio show) that even an aficionado like me had not previously heard, “Roll On John”. How about Roscoe Holcomb, another name mentioned more than once in this space, doing “Man Of Constant Sorrow”. He is a man of Appalachia who I was thinking of when I mentioned that don’t ask, don’t tell policy above. You just know that he is one of those God-fearing good old boys. The same with Eck Robinson here doing the classic (and much covered) “Sally Goodin”. Needless to say no compilation in the modern era can skip over the work of North Carolina’s Elizabeth Cotten here performing “Oh Babe , It Ain’t No Lie”. Or, for that matter Woody Guthrie (whose pensive, I think as I am not sure of the date of the picture, photograph graces the cover of this CD) doing “Ramblin’ Round”. Of course, as mentioned above Brother Cohen gives a nod, rightly so, to his own work with The New Lost City Ramblers here doing “Buck Creek Girl”.
Now if all of this is not enough to make my point about the interconnection between our leftist sensibilities and our common musical roots heritage then this last point will have to do. One of the selections here seems out of kilter. That is a modern jazzy piece by the David Amram Quartet doing a scat called ‘Pull My Daisy”. For those, again, not familiar with the New York scene in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s this is also the name of film that “Beats” Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassidy (the model for the Dean Moriarty character in Kerouac’s “On The Road”) and Allen Ginsberg wrote, acted in, and produced. One may question the leftist (or any political) credentials of the ‘‘beats” but one cannot gainsay their seeking for American roots. There is a definite line from the Walt Whitman of “Leaves of Grass” arguably the first serious literary search for an American road to the “‘beats”. That, however, is best left for another day. Enough for now, except roots music and photos. Kudos Brother Cohen. Better check this one out.
CD (Plus Booklet Of Photographs) Review
There Is No Eye: Music For Photographs, music by various performers and photographs by John Cohen, Smithsonian/Folkways (Of course), 2001
Recently I was asked by a commenter on one of my blog sites how this current rash of reviews of mountain music, roots music or what have you that I have been frantically writing relates to the general theme of my work, reviews and comments on the history of the left in America and our current propaganda tasks. Good question. Hidden away in the recesses of trying to understand our common plebeian political history and why we have been on the political defensive for almost one hundred years now in our efforts to bring some social justice to this beleaguered country and establish some sense of working class consciousness is a rich, if underappreciated, body of cultural work, including musical, artistic and literary work, trying, one way or another, to do just that thing.
Those cultural efforts may not have always been, consciously or not, on the order of what is necessary to turn the capitalist regime out. They may not have always been made to order for our more thoroughly thought out theories of social struggle. And, certainly, the works and their creators or performers may not have always been “politically correct” and we may be forced to create an every day policy akin to the American military’s policy on the question of gays in the service- “don’t ask, don’t tell” in regard to some of the musical characters that are given space here but this is our common history- warts and all. The point to move on from there.
All of the above is by way of introducing a very interesting piece of Americana put out in 2001 by, one could almost say naturally, by Smithsonian/Folkways. As the headline to this review indicates this CD combines roots music and photographs by John Cohen of the performers in question to accompany that music. For those not familiar with the folk revival of the 1960’s John Cohen was already waiting at the gate for the young folkies to arrive at Greenwich Village. He, along with Tom Paley and Mike Seeger (venerable Pete’s half-brother), had already formed The New Lost City Ramblers who were an important catalyst in finding and “discovering” much roots music- just because they thought it was important to keep that tradition alive. Well, what do you think about that?
Almost every one familiar with roots music knows of the work of Pete Seeger’s father in going out into the field to record or listen to roots music back in the day. As many, perhaps, know of Pete’s own work in this area. Moreover, it is almost impossible to be interested in this genre and not know the work of John and then his son Alan Lomax (and to a much lesser extent Harry Smith). Many fewer, including this reviewer, knew of the field work of John Cohen, as least in taking pictures of musicians in the field. There is a 36 page booklet that accompanies this CD filled with liner notes and some of those photographs. This, my friends, is part of our history. Yes, part of our American left history.
For those non-believers let me just give a few examples to whet your appetite. How about Reverend Gary Davis, a country blues guitar virtuoso who has been the subject of more than one review in this space doing.” If I Had My Way”. Of course from the urban blue genre an early Muddy Waters doing “I Can’t Be Satisfied”. Or a very young Bob Dylan doing a song (on a radio show) that even an aficionado like me had not previously heard, “Roll On John”. How about Roscoe Holcomb, another name mentioned more than once in this space, doing “Man Of Constant Sorrow”. He is a man of Appalachia who I was thinking of when I mentioned that don’t ask, don’t tell policy above. You just know that he is one of those God-fearing good old boys. The same with Eck Robinson here doing the classic (and much covered) “Sally Goodin”. Needless to say no compilation in the modern era can skip over the work of North Carolina’s Elizabeth Cotten here performing “Oh Babe , It Ain’t No Lie”. Or, for that matter Woody Guthrie (whose pensive, I think as I am not sure of the date of the picture, photograph graces the cover of this CD) doing “Ramblin’ Round”. Of course, as mentioned above Brother Cohen gives a nod, rightly so, to his own work with The New Lost City Ramblers here doing “Buck Creek Girl”.
Now if all of this is not enough to make my point about the interconnection between our leftist sensibilities and our common musical roots heritage then this last point will have to do. One of the selections here seems out of kilter. That is a modern jazzy piece by the David Amram Quartet doing a scat called ‘Pull My Daisy”. For those, again, not familiar with the New York scene in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s this is also the name of film that “Beats” Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassidy (the model for the Dean Moriarty character in Kerouac’s “On The Road”) and Allen Ginsberg wrote, acted in, and produced. One may question the leftist (or any political) credentials of the ‘‘beats” but one cannot gainsay their seeking for American roots. There is a definite line from the Walt Whitman of “Leaves of Grass” arguably the first serious literary search for an American road to the “‘beats”. That, however, is best left for another day. Enough for now, except roots music and photos. Kudos Brother Cohen. Better check this one out.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
*Today's Burning Question Of The Class Struggle- The Search For The Great Working Class Love Song (In English)- A Late Entry-"James Alley Blues"
Click on title to link link to YouTube's film clip of Rabbit Brown performing his James Alley Blues".
Markin comment November 17, 2009:
This is a late addition to the great working class love songs contest. This is from the famous "Harry Smith's Anthology Of American Folk Music". It is a classic. I note that the three selection are all male-voiced (ouch). Well, what about it? If women have a selection I would me more than happy to put it in the contest.
Markin comment:
No, old Markin has not gone off the deep end. But every once in a while I like to get a little whimsical, especially if I have music on my mind. Let’s face it , communist political realists that we are we cannot (or should not go) 24/7 on the heavy questions of health care, the struggle against the banks and other capitalist institutions, the fight for a working wage and the big fight looming ahead on Afghanistan without a little relief. So, for this moment, I ask this question –what is the great working class love song (in English)?
Now there are plenty of them I am sure but I control the stick today. You have to choose between my two (now three, see above)selections. Richard Thompson’s classic motorcycle love song (which, of course, if you read the lyrics, borders very closely to the lumpen proletarian-but so does working class existence, especially down among the working poor, for that matter). Or, Tom Waits’ version of the classic weekend- freedom seeking “Jersey Girl”. And, after that……… Obama, Troops Out Of Afghanistan- Free Quality Health care For All- Down With The Wall Street Bankers. See, I told you I had not gone off the deep end.
James Alley Blues
Times right now ain't nothin' like they used to be
Well times right now ain't nothin' like they used to be
You know I'll tell you all the truth, won't you take my word from me
Well I seen better days, but I ain't puttin' up with these
Well I've seen better days, but I ain't puttin' up with these
I had a lot better time with those women down in New Orleans
Well I was born in the country so she thinks I'm easy to lose
Well I was born in the country so she thinks I'm easy to lose
She wants to hitch me to a wagon and drive me like a mule
I bought her a gold ring and I pay the rent
I bought her a gold ring and I pay the rent
She tried to get me to wash her clothes but I got good common sense
Well if you don't want me then why don't you just tell me so?
Well if you don't want me then why don't you just tell me so?
It ain't like I'm a man that ain't got nowhere else to go
I give you sugar for sugar, but all you want is salt for salt
I give you sugar for sugar, but all you want is salt for salt
Well if you can't get along with me, then it's your own fault
Well, you want me to love you, but then you just treat me mean
Yea, you want me to love you, but then you just treat me mean
You're my daily thought and you're my nightly dream
Well, sometimes I think that you're just too sweet to die
Ah, sometimes I think that you're just too sweet to die
And other times I think that you ought to be buried alive
found on: The Harry Smith Connection: A Live Tribute
words: Rabbit Brown (traditional)
Markin comment November 17, 2009:
This is a late addition to the great working class love songs contest. This is from the famous "Harry Smith's Anthology Of American Folk Music". It is a classic. I note that the three selection are all male-voiced (ouch). Well, what about it? If women have a selection I would me more than happy to put it in the contest.
Markin comment:
No, old Markin has not gone off the deep end. But every once in a while I like to get a little whimsical, especially if I have music on my mind. Let’s face it , communist political realists that we are we cannot (or should not go) 24/7 on the heavy questions of health care, the struggle against the banks and other capitalist institutions, the fight for a working wage and the big fight looming ahead on Afghanistan without a little relief. So, for this moment, I ask this question –what is the great working class love song (in English)?
Now there are plenty of them I am sure but I control the stick today. You have to choose between my two (now three, see above)selections. Richard Thompson’s classic motorcycle love song (which, of course, if you read the lyrics, borders very closely to the lumpen proletarian-but so does working class existence, especially down among the working poor, for that matter). Or, Tom Waits’ version of the classic weekend- freedom seeking “Jersey Girl”. And, after that……… Obama, Troops Out Of Afghanistan- Free Quality Health care For All- Down With The Wall Street Bankers. See, I told you I had not gone off the deep end.
James Alley Blues
Times right now ain't nothin' like they used to be
Well times right now ain't nothin' like they used to be
You know I'll tell you all the truth, won't you take my word from me
Well I seen better days, but I ain't puttin' up with these
Well I've seen better days, but I ain't puttin' up with these
I had a lot better time with those women down in New Orleans
Well I was born in the country so she thinks I'm easy to lose
Well I was born in the country so she thinks I'm easy to lose
She wants to hitch me to a wagon and drive me like a mule
I bought her a gold ring and I pay the rent
I bought her a gold ring and I pay the rent
She tried to get me to wash her clothes but I got good common sense
Well if you don't want me then why don't you just tell me so?
Well if you don't want me then why don't you just tell me so?
It ain't like I'm a man that ain't got nowhere else to go
I give you sugar for sugar, but all you want is salt for salt
I give you sugar for sugar, but all you want is salt for salt
Well if you can't get along with me, then it's your own fault
Well, you want me to love you, but then you just treat me mean
Yea, you want me to love you, but then you just treat me mean
You're my daily thought and you're my nightly dream
Well, sometimes I think that you're just too sweet to die
Ah, sometimes I think that you're just too sweet to die
And other times I think that you ought to be buried alive
found on: The Harry Smith Connection: A Live Tribute
words: Rabbit Brown (traditional)
Friday, July 31, 2009
*A Mixed Bag Musical Potpourri-Jazz, Blues, Gospel, Rock And Rockabilly-Barrelhouse Mamas
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of "Tricks Aint Walking No More". Sorry, I Could Not Find A Barrelhouse Mama Version.
Barrelhouse Mamas, Indeed
Barrelhouse Mamas, various artists, Yazoo Records, 1999
I recently noted in reviewing a CD containing the work of legendary early acoustic blues guitarists that sometimes a review, especially a review of old time blues artists, is a very easy chore. That is certainly the case here with this CD highlighting most of the known names from the early hey days of the women blues singers, circa the 1920’s and 1930’s. I have spilled some ink here previously discussing the impact of the early women blues artists when they were the main game in town. I have also noted their use of double entendre to breech that forbidden explicit sexual lyrics barrier. I should mention here a good point from the always informative Yazoo liner notes that some of this may have been, and I say may have been because this area is pretty murky, references to prostitution. Certainly there is plenty of room for speculation on that front. Check out Lucille Bogan’s “Tricks Aint Walking No More” though.
A role call of honor here tells the tale. The above-mentioned Lucille Bogan on “Alley Boogie”, and who, by the way, is worthy of a separate review of her own. Mary Johnson on “Dawn Of Day Blues” and “Morning Sun Blues”. Lil Johnson on “Evil Man Blues”. Two- timing men, thwarted love, longing for love, busted, drunk and down and out. It is all there and it is not all pretty. And these women belted it out. I think I have made my point. Right?
"Memphis Minnie Tricks Ain't Walking No More lyrics"
Times has done got hard, work done got scarce
Stealing and robbing is taking place
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I'm going to grab somebody if I don't make me some dough
I'm going to do just like a blind man, stand and beg for change
Tell these tricking policemen change my second name
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I've got to make no money, I don't care where I go
I'm going to learn these walking tricks what it's all about
I'm going to get them in my house and ain't going to let them out
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I can't make no money, I don't care where I go
I got up this morning with the rising sun
Been walking all day and I haven't caught a one
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I can't make a dime, I don't care where I go
I got up this morning, feeling tough
I got to calling my tricks and it's rough, rough, rough
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I have to change my luck if I have to move next door
Barrelhouse Mamas, Indeed
Barrelhouse Mamas, various artists, Yazoo Records, 1999
I recently noted in reviewing a CD containing the work of legendary early acoustic blues guitarists that sometimes a review, especially a review of old time blues artists, is a very easy chore. That is certainly the case here with this CD highlighting most of the known names from the early hey days of the women blues singers, circa the 1920’s and 1930’s. I have spilled some ink here previously discussing the impact of the early women blues artists when they were the main game in town. I have also noted their use of double entendre to breech that forbidden explicit sexual lyrics barrier. I should mention here a good point from the always informative Yazoo liner notes that some of this may have been, and I say may have been because this area is pretty murky, references to prostitution. Certainly there is plenty of room for speculation on that front. Check out Lucille Bogan’s “Tricks Aint Walking No More” though.
A role call of honor here tells the tale. The above-mentioned Lucille Bogan on “Alley Boogie”, and who, by the way, is worthy of a separate review of her own. Mary Johnson on “Dawn Of Day Blues” and “Morning Sun Blues”. Lil Johnson on “Evil Man Blues”. Two- timing men, thwarted love, longing for love, busted, drunk and down and out. It is all there and it is not all pretty. And these women belted it out. I think I have made my point. Right?
"Memphis Minnie Tricks Ain't Walking No More lyrics"
Times has done got hard, work done got scarce
Stealing and robbing is taking place
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I'm going to grab somebody if I don't make me some dough
I'm going to do just like a blind man, stand and beg for change
Tell these tricking policemen change my second name
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I've got to make no money, I don't care where I go
I'm going to learn these walking tricks what it's all about
I'm going to get them in my house and ain't going to let them out
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I can't make no money, I don't care where I go
I got up this morning with the rising sun
Been walking all day and I haven't caught a one
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I can't make a dime, I don't care where I go
I got up this morning, feeling tough
I got to calling my tricks and it's rough, rough, rough
Because tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
Tricks ain't walking, tricks ain't walking no more
And I have to change my luck if I have to move next door
*A Mixed Bag Musical Potpourri-Jazz, Blues, Gospel, Rock And Rockabilly-Legends Of The Blues
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Roosevelt Sykes Doing "Gulfport Boogie".
Legends Of The Blues, Indeed
Legends Of The Blues: Volume Two, various artists, Sony Music, 1991
I recently noted in reviewing a CD containing the work of legendary early acoustic blues guitarists in this same series that sometimes a review, especially a review of old time blues artists, is a very easy chore. That is certainly the case here with this CD, another Columbia Legacy series production, highlighting most of the known names from the early days of the genre. I have spilled some ink here previously discussing the impact of the early acoustic blues artists on the post-World War II explosion of electric blues, most notably the Chicago blues sound. Well, here they are all together in one place guitarists, vocalists, harmonica players and pianists for the beginner and for the aficionado.
A role call of honor here tells the tale. The “Honeydripper” Roosevelt Sykes on the salacious “Henry Ford Blues” (if you can believe that). Guitarist extraordinaire Tampa Red on “Turpentine Blues”. Brownie McGhee on “Goodbye Now”. Harmonica man “Jazz” Gillum on “Is That A Monkey You Got?”. Lucille Bogan on “Bo-Easy Blues”. I think I have made my point. Right?
Tampa Red - Turpentine Blues lyrics
Turpentine's all right, provided that wages are good
Turpentine's all right, provided that wages are good
But I can make more money now, by somewhere choppin' hardwood
Turpentine business ain't like it used to be
Turpentine business ain't like it used to be
I can't make enough money now, to even get on a spree
I ain't gonna work no more, I tell you the reason why
I ain't gonna work no more, tell you the reason why
Because everybody wants to sell, and nobody wants to buy
You can work in the field, you can work at the sawmill too
You can work in the field, you can work at the sawmill too
But you can't make no money, at nothin' you try to do
So Lordy please tell me what we turpentine people are gonna do
Lordy please tell me what we turpentine people gonna do
We may work one week, but we got to lay off a month or two
Turpentine is like dice, to shoot you up on the loose
Turpentine is just like dice, to shoot you up on the loose
That's the reason why, I've got those turpentine blues
Legends Of The Blues, Indeed
Legends Of The Blues: Volume Two, various artists, Sony Music, 1991
I recently noted in reviewing a CD containing the work of legendary early acoustic blues guitarists in this same series that sometimes a review, especially a review of old time blues artists, is a very easy chore. That is certainly the case here with this CD, another Columbia Legacy series production, highlighting most of the known names from the early days of the genre. I have spilled some ink here previously discussing the impact of the early acoustic blues artists on the post-World War II explosion of electric blues, most notably the Chicago blues sound. Well, here they are all together in one place guitarists, vocalists, harmonica players and pianists for the beginner and for the aficionado.
A role call of honor here tells the tale. The “Honeydripper” Roosevelt Sykes on the salacious “Henry Ford Blues” (if you can believe that). Guitarist extraordinaire Tampa Red on “Turpentine Blues”. Brownie McGhee on “Goodbye Now”. Harmonica man “Jazz” Gillum on “Is That A Monkey You Got?”. Lucille Bogan on “Bo-Easy Blues”. I think I have made my point. Right?
Tampa Red - Turpentine Blues lyrics
Turpentine's all right, provided that wages are good
Turpentine's all right, provided that wages are good
But I can make more money now, by somewhere choppin' hardwood
Turpentine business ain't like it used to be
Turpentine business ain't like it used to be
I can't make enough money now, to even get on a spree
I ain't gonna work no more, I tell you the reason why
I ain't gonna work no more, tell you the reason why
Because everybody wants to sell, and nobody wants to buy
You can work in the field, you can work at the sawmill too
You can work in the field, you can work at the sawmill too
But you can't make no money, at nothin' you try to do
So Lordy please tell me what we turpentine people are gonna do
Lordy please tell me what we turpentine people gonna do
We may work one week, but we got to lay off a month or two
Turpentine is like dice, to shoot you up on the loose
Turpentine is just like dice, to shoot you up on the loose
That's the reason why, I've got those turpentine blues
Sunday, July 19, 2009
***Once Again, A Blues Potpourri-John Lee Hooker And Furry Lewis
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Furry Lewis Doing "Kassie Jones" Wow!
DVD REVIEW
John Lee Hooker and Furry Lewis, John Lee Hooker, Furry Lewis, Yazoo Productions, 2002
I have recently reviewed a few of John Lee Hooker’s vast number of blues albums that lend credence to the title “Boogie Chillen” man. I also noted that unlike other old time electric blues artists such as Howlin’ Wolf and Lighting Hopkins that Hooker’s work, in general, leaves me cold. Although the small segment of his work presented here is good as he articulates his sense of what the blues mean, especially as it features one of his signature songs that I like, “Boom Boom”, I still am left with that same feeling. I finish by noting that this is a question of personal taste. Hooker is a blues legend, justifiably so. Case closed.
The other figure in this short Yazoo production is a different story. I have also reviewed Furry Lewis’s work elsewhere in this space and have praised his clean guitar picking style and vocals from his early career in the 1920’s when he was along with Blind Blake and Blind Lemon Jefferson one of the kings of the guitar pick. Furry does not fail here late in his career after reemerging during the folk revival of the 1960’s. His version of the famous “Kassie Jones” is worth the price of admission.
DVD REVIEW
John Lee Hooker and Furry Lewis, John Lee Hooker, Furry Lewis, Yazoo Productions, 2002
I have recently reviewed a few of John Lee Hooker’s vast number of blues albums that lend credence to the title “Boogie Chillen” man. I also noted that unlike other old time electric blues artists such as Howlin’ Wolf and Lighting Hopkins that Hooker’s work, in general, leaves me cold. Although the small segment of his work presented here is good as he articulates his sense of what the blues mean, especially as it features one of his signature songs that I like, “Boom Boom”, I still am left with that same feeling. I finish by noting that this is a question of personal taste. Hooker is a blues legend, justifiably so. Case closed.
The other figure in this short Yazoo production is a different story. I have also reviewed Furry Lewis’s work elsewhere in this space and have praised his clean guitar picking style and vocals from his early career in the 1920’s when he was along with Blind Blake and Blind Lemon Jefferson one of the kings of the guitar pick. Furry does not fail here late in his career after reemerging during the folk revival of the 1960’s. His version of the famous “Kassie Jones” is worth the price of admission.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
*In The Back Streets Of The Blues- Life On The "Chittlin' Circuit"
Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Jesse Mae Hemphill Doing "You Can Talk About Me".
DVD REVIEW
Deep Blues, commentary by musicologist Robert Palmer and performances by various artists, directed by Robert Mugge, Shout Factory, 1993
Over the past year or so I have spent some time in this space addressing the question of why various male folk performers like Jesse Winchester, Tom Rush, and Chris Smither, from the folk revival of the 1960's, did or did not become "king of the hill" in that genre. (I am in the process of doing the same for female folk singers as "queen of the hill"). I have also addressed that same question, although not as extensively, concerning the various 1950's rock `n' roll artists who were left behind when rock exploded on the scene. I thought I had covered so many of the artists from the blues scene that I did not think that I needed to pose the question in that genre. Apparently I was wrong as this well done blues documentary, "Deep Blues", directed by Robert Mugge and narrated by the famed blues musicologist Robert Palmer poses that very question point blank at those left behind down at the lesser levels of the blues pantheon.
This film spends no little time on setting the framework for its above-mentioned premise. That question, as the documentary unfolds, keeps honing in on who has kept the blues tradition alive back down at the roots-mainly in the rural South among the black agricultural laborers, small town black entertainment entrepreneurs and others who want to continue the blues tradition of the Saturday night "juke joint". In short this film is a labor of love by Mugge and Palmer in honor of those who have kept the blues tradition alive, mainly as a labor of their love. Although this film was produced in 1991 in the year 2009 the same question could be fruitfully posed about has kept the faith down home. Although there are periodic revivals of the blues around such events as Martin Scorsese's six-part PBS blues documentary of 2003 the hard truth is that the blues, as a genre, is not generally a paying proposition these days. So it has to be love of this art form that drives the work.
A number of lesser known blues performers performing their work, some that I had heard of previously others that I have not, form the core of this film. After viewing the performances I come way, once again, with that nagging question about why some artists "made it" and others did not. All blues aficionados are familiar with Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Son House, Memphis Minnie, Etta James,"Big Mama" Thornton and the like. But what about those on the "chittlin' circuit"- the likes of Junior Kimbrough, R.L. Burnside, Jessie Mae Hemphill, Roosevelt Barnes, Big Jack Johnson and Lonnie Pitchford? I thought not. Some decided for personal reasons to stay put, some were in the wrong place at the wrong time, some are merely imitative of greater artists and some are just flat out not good enough for the "bigs". Nevertheless this is their story. Kudos to Mugge and Palmer for telling it.
Jesse Mae Hemphill - Standing In My Doorway Crying Lyrics
Oh baby
I'm standing in my doorway crying
Oh baby
I'm standing in my doorway crying
Oh baby
Oh baby
You know I love you baby
But you treat me so lowdown
You know I love you baby
But you treat me so lowdown yeah
When you left me baby yeah
you left me ring in my hand and crying
when you left me baby yeah yeah
you left me ring in my hand and crying
Oh yeah yeah
you know love you baby
wont you come back home to me
You know I love you baby yeah
wont you come back home to me yeah
you left me darling
I never loved a man yeah
like I love you before
I never loved a man baby
like I loved you before yeah
you left me darling
The man love yeah yeah
he treat me so mean yeah
the man I love yeah
he treat me so mean
some day baby
some day baby
you'll want from me
Oh home yeah come home
come home yeah come on home yeah
come on home baby
come on home baby
I got love for you baby
Junior Kimbrough - Done Got Old lyrics
Well, I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
Well, I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
Remember the day, Babe
Now dead and gone
Days I could love you
So many times
Now things have changed
And I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
I don' look like I used
Can't walk like I used
Cain't love like I used
Now things have changed
And I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
Junior Kimbrough - Meet Me In The City lyrics
Meet me over in the city
And I see everything is so fine
We'll get together now, Darling
Oh yeah, we will
We'll make everything all right
Oh Honey, don't
Please, please don't leave me right now
Right now
You got me, Baby
You got me, Girl
You got me where you want me, Baby
Now Girl, I know you are
Satisfied
You got me, Baby
You got me, Girl
You got me where you want me, Baby
Now Girl, I know you are
Satisfied
Yeah but there's one more thing I wanna tell you right now, Baby
Don't leave me, Girl
Please, please don't leave me right now
Right now
Sometimes I think I will, Baby
And then again my my my my my my my mind'll change
Yeah, sometimes I think I will, Baby
And then again my my my my my my my mind'll change
Ah tell me don't do it right now
Please, please don't leave me right now, right now
Ah ha, I love you, Girl
Yeah a yeah yeah yeah yeah
I love you, Babe
Please, please don't leave me right
Right now
Junior Kimbrough - Sad Days Lonely Nights lyrics
My momma told me
I was a child
She said, "Son,
You're gonna have hard days"
My daddy told me too
He said, "Son,
You're gonna have sad days
Lonely nights
Setting alone
Head hung down
Tears runnin' down"
Done got old
Sad days, lonely nights
Done overtaken me
Sometimes I set alone
I wonder about the things
My mum and daddy told me
Sad days, lonely nights
come overtaking me
DVD REVIEW
Deep Blues, commentary by musicologist Robert Palmer and performances by various artists, directed by Robert Mugge, Shout Factory, 1993
Over the past year or so I have spent some time in this space addressing the question of why various male folk performers like Jesse Winchester, Tom Rush, and Chris Smither, from the folk revival of the 1960's, did or did not become "king of the hill" in that genre. (I am in the process of doing the same for female folk singers as "queen of the hill"). I have also addressed that same question, although not as extensively, concerning the various 1950's rock `n' roll artists who were left behind when rock exploded on the scene. I thought I had covered so many of the artists from the blues scene that I did not think that I needed to pose the question in that genre. Apparently I was wrong as this well done blues documentary, "Deep Blues", directed by Robert Mugge and narrated by the famed blues musicologist Robert Palmer poses that very question point blank at those left behind down at the lesser levels of the blues pantheon.
This film spends no little time on setting the framework for its above-mentioned premise. That question, as the documentary unfolds, keeps honing in on who has kept the blues tradition alive back down at the roots-mainly in the rural South among the black agricultural laborers, small town black entertainment entrepreneurs and others who want to continue the blues tradition of the Saturday night "juke joint". In short this film is a labor of love by Mugge and Palmer in honor of those who have kept the blues tradition alive, mainly as a labor of their love. Although this film was produced in 1991 in the year 2009 the same question could be fruitfully posed about has kept the faith down home. Although there are periodic revivals of the blues around such events as Martin Scorsese's six-part PBS blues documentary of 2003 the hard truth is that the blues, as a genre, is not generally a paying proposition these days. So it has to be love of this art form that drives the work.
A number of lesser known blues performers performing their work, some that I had heard of previously others that I have not, form the core of this film. After viewing the performances I come way, once again, with that nagging question about why some artists "made it" and others did not. All blues aficionados are familiar with Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Son House, Memphis Minnie, Etta James,"Big Mama" Thornton and the like. But what about those on the "chittlin' circuit"- the likes of Junior Kimbrough, R.L. Burnside, Jessie Mae Hemphill, Roosevelt Barnes, Big Jack Johnson and Lonnie Pitchford? I thought not. Some decided for personal reasons to stay put, some were in the wrong place at the wrong time, some are merely imitative of greater artists and some are just flat out not good enough for the "bigs". Nevertheless this is their story. Kudos to Mugge and Palmer for telling it.
Jesse Mae Hemphill - Standing In My Doorway Crying Lyrics
Oh baby
I'm standing in my doorway crying
Oh baby
I'm standing in my doorway crying
Oh baby
Oh baby
You know I love you baby
But you treat me so lowdown
You know I love you baby
But you treat me so lowdown yeah
When you left me baby yeah
you left me ring in my hand and crying
when you left me baby yeah yeah
you left me ring in my hand and crying
Oh yeah yeah
you know love you baby
wont you come back home to me
You know I love you baby yeah
wont you come back home to me yeah
you left me darling
I never loved a man yeah
like I love you before
I never loved a man baby
like I loved you before yeah
you left me darling
The man love yeah yeah
he treat me so mean yeah
the man I love yeah
he treat me so mean
some day baby
some day baby
you'll want from me
Oh home yeah come home
come home yeah come on home yeah
come on home baby
come on home baby
I got love for you baby
Junior Kimbrough - Done Got Old lyrics
Well, I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
Well, I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
Remember the day, Babe
Now dead and gone
Days I could love you
So many times
Now things have changed
And I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
I don' look like I used
Can't walk like I used
Cain't love like I used
Now things have changed
And I done got old
I caint do the thangs I used to do;
I'm a old man
Junior Kimbrough - Meet Me In The City lyrics
Meet me over in the city
And I see everything is so fine
We'll get together now, Darling
Oh yeah, we will
We'll make everything all right
Oh Honey, don't
Please, please don't leave me right now
Right now
You got me, Baby
You got me, Girl
You got me where you want me, Baby
Now Girl, I know you are
Satisfied
You got me, Baby
You got me, Girl
You got me where you want me, Baby
Now Girl, I know you are
Satisfied
Yeah but there's one more thing I wanna tell you right now, Baby
Don't leave me, Girl
Please, please don't leave me right now
Right now
Sometimes I think I will, Baby
And then again my my my my my my my mind'll change
Yeah, sometimes I think I will, Baby
And then again my my my my my my my mind'll change
Ah tell me don't do it right now
Please, please don't leave me right now, right now
Ah ha, I love you, Girl
Yeah a yeah yeah yeah yeah
I love you, Babe
Please, please don't leave me right
Right now
Junior Kimbrough - Sad Days Lonely Nights lyrics
My momma told me
I was a child
She said, "Son,
You're gonna have hard days"
My daddy told me too
He said, "Son,
You're gonna have sad days
Lonely nights
Setting alone
Head hung down
Tears runnin' down"
Done got old
Sad days, lonely nights
Done overtaken me
Sometimes I set alone
I wonder about the things
My mum and daddy told me
Sad days, lonely nights
come overtaking me
Monday, June 08, 2009
***The "Max Daddy” Blues Shootout- Alan Lomax’s "Blues At Newport 1966"
Click On Title To Link To YouTube Film Clip Of Skip James Doing "Devil Got My Woman" At The Newport Folk Festival In 1966. Wow!
DVD REVIEW
Devil Got My Woman: Blues At Newport 1966, Skip James, Son House, Howlin’ Wolf, Bukka White and the Reverend Pearly Brown, Vestapol Productions, 1996
I have spent some considerable effort in this space reviewing various trends in the blues tradition, including both the country blues and the later electrified urban sound most closely associated with places like Memphis and Chicago. As is fairly well known country blues got its start down in the South during the early part of the 20th century (if not earlier) as a way for blacks (mainly) to cope with the dreaded, deadly work on the plantations (picking that hard to pick cotton). The electric blues really came of age in the post World War I period and later when there was a massive black migration out of the south in search of the, now disappearing, industrial jobs up north (and to get out from under old Jim Crow racial segregation). In this volume (and similarly in a couple of other previously reviewed volumes in this series) Stefan Grossman, the renowned guitar teacher and performer in his own right, has taken old film clips and segments from an Alan Lomax experiment at the Newport Folk Festival of putting exemplars of both traditions together under one roof and has produced an hour of classic performances by some masters of the genre. Wow.
Let me set the stage on this one to give you a small, small sense of what an historic blues cultural occasion this was. Alan Lomax, the famous musicologist and folk performer, put the then recently rediscovered Skip James and Son House and the already well known and powerful voice of Howlin' Wolf together under one roof. Oh yes, and then added Bukka White and the Reverend Pearly Brown to the mix. The motif: an attempt to recreate an old fashioned "juke joint'" from back in the days on a Down South rural Saturday night complete with dancing and plenty of liquor. Watch out.
Needless to say anyone even vaguely familiar with the long and storied history of the early blues knows that this was indeed an historic, and fleeting, occasion. 1966 might have been one of the few years that such an event could have been put together as the old country blues singers were starting to past from the scene. But as fate would have it we got one last chance to look at these five performers going head to head, everyone one way or another a legend. With the partial exception of the Reverend Pearly Brown and his religiously- oriented country blues done in the shout and response style of the old Baptist churches reflecting the tradition made popular by the Reverend Blind Willie Johnson, all the other performers have rated plenty of ink in this space as members of one or another branch of the blues pantheon.
A few of the highlights. Skip James' rendition of his classic "I'd Rather Be The Devil That Be That Woman's Man" (also known by the title of this documentary "Devil Got My Woman"). I have gotten more mileage out of my use of that title in various political commentaries in this space than I deserve. Thanks, Skip. Son House brought out his classic "Death Letter Blues" that I always go crazy over. Howlin' Wolf is, well, Howlin' Wolf as he almost inhales the harmonica on "How Many More Years" and does an incredible cover of the old Robert Johnson/Elmore James song "Dust My Broom". Reverend Brown does a very soulful rendition of the tradtional religious blues classic "Keep Your Lamp Trimmed And Burning".
So who is left? Well Bukka White, of course. Bukka is a recent addition to my personal blues pantheon and I have spend some effort praising his work, especially his smoking guitar work on that old National Steel guitar that he makes hum. Hell, I would have walked to Mississippi to hear that. This documentary has a separate songs section so that one can replay any song that one wants to without having to replay the whole film (although I did that as well). So who got replayed? Yes Bukka on "100 Men" (with Howlin' Wolf doing the response and some unknown washboard player as backup). Yes indeed, this was the blues shootout to end all shootouts. If you want to know what it was like to see men play the blues for keeps look here.
Devil Got My Woman lyrics
You know, I'd rather be the ol' devil
Well, I'd rather be the devil
Then to be that woman' man
You know, rather be the devil
Than to be that woman' man
You know, I'm so sorry
You know, so sorry
That I ever fell in love wit' you-ooo-hoo-oo
Because you know you don't treat me
Baby, like you used ta do-hoo
You know, I laid down last night
You know, I laid down last night
And I thought to take me some rest
But my mind got to rambling
Like a wild geese from the west
You know the woman that I love
The woman that I love
I stol't her from my best friend
But you know he done got lucky
An he done got her back, again
You know, I used to cut your kindleing
You know, I used to cut your kindleing
Baby, then I made you some fire
Then I would tote all your water
Way, way, way, from the bogy brier
You know, my baby she don't drink whiskey
My baby, she don't drink no whiskey
An I know she ain't crazy about wine
Now, it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done changed my baby's mind
You know, I could be right
You know, I could be right
Then again, I could be wrong
But it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done got my baby
Now he done gone.
I'm So Glad lyrics
Eee, an I'm so glad
Yes sir, I'm glad
Until I just don't know
What to do
An I am tired a-weeping
I'm so tired a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you
(guitar)
Eee, an I am so -
Yes, I am mighty glad
Until I just don't know what -
Would you be my little darlin'?
Would you be my dear?
Would you be my darlin'
Be my dear?
Then I would be mighty -
I would be mighty glad
Then I just wouldn't know
What to do
When I say, 'Coo-coo-coo'
Just like a little baby, do
I would love to have
A lovely kiss from you
Then I would be mighty -
Then I would be so -
Until I just wouldn't know -
You know, I'm tired a-weeping
I'm so tired of a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you
(guitar)
Eee, an I am so glad
Yes, I'm so glad
Until I just don't know
What to do-ooo-woo-ooo-ooo.
Cherry Ball Blues lyrics
I love my little cherry ball
Better than I love myself
I love my cherry ball
Better than I love myself
Then if she don't love me
She can't love nobody else
Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
You know, what it take to get her back
I carries it ev'ryday
Now, I left cherry ball standin'
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Now, I left cherry ball
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Of course, I feel her condition
But her trouble ain't none a-mine
She's just like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
She's like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
You know, she done quit me
She quit me without a cause
Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
You know, that I love her
But her disposition I do dispise
Now, you can take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
Now, you take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
I'm gon' ride an gon' ramble
'Till cherry ball come back to me
She got to come on back home to me-ee-ee.
Son House - Death Letter lyrics
Lyrics to Death Letter :
I got a letter this mornin, how do you reckon it read?
It said, "Hurry, hurry, yeah, your love is dead"
I got a letter this mornin, I say how do you reckon it read?
You know, it said, "Hurry, hurry, how come the gal you love is dead?"
So, I grabbed up my suitcase, and took off down the road
When I got there she was layin on a coolin' board
I grabbed up my suitcase, and I said and I took off down the road
I said, but when I got there she was already layin on a coolin' board
Well, I walked up right close, looked down in her face
Said, the good ol' gal got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day
I walked up right close, and I said I looked down in her face
I said the good ol' gal, she got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day
Looked like there was 10,000 people standin' round the buryin' ground
I didn't know I loved her 'til they laid her down
Looked like 10,000 were standin' round the buryin' ground
You know I didn't know I loved her 'til they damn laid her down
Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
I wouldn't mistreat you baby, for my weight in gold
I said, Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
You know I wouldn't mistreat nobody, baby, not for my weight in gold
Well, I folded up my arms and I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell honey, I'll see you on Judgment Day"
Ah, yeah, oh, yes, I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell, farewell, I'll see you on the Judgment Day"
You know I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
The blues came along and drove my spirit away
I went in my room, I said I bowed down to pray
I said the blues came along and drove my spirit away
You know I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around
I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
You know, I didn't have nobody to throw my arms around
I loved you baby, like I love myself
You don't have me, you won't have nobody else
I loved you baby, better than I did myself
I said now if you don't have me, I didn't want you to have nobody else
You know, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
Ain't no satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Yeah, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
You know it don't look like satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where she used to lay
Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where my good gal used to lay
Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
You know, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
Yeah, you know bout that, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', so I don't have to cry no more
You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', you see, so I don't have to cry no more
Ah, hush, thought I heard her call my name
If it wasn't so loud and so nice and plain
Ah, yeah
Mmmmmm
Well, listen, whatever you do
This is one thing, honey, I tried to get along with you
Yes, no tellin' what you do
I done everything I could, just to try and get along with you
Well, the minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
It seemed like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways
Minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
Seems like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways
You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes leaves you feeling sad and blue
You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes make you feel sad and blue
Son House - Preachin' Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Preachin' Blues :
Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
I'm gonna be a Baptist preacher, and I sure won't have to work
Oh, I'm a-preach these blues, and I, I want everybody to shout
I want everybody to shout
I'm gonna do like a prisoner, I'm gonna roll my time on out
Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Till the blues come along, and they blowed my spirit1 away
Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
But the womens and whiskey, well, they would not set me free
Oh, I wish I had me a heaven of my own
Hey, a heaven of my own
Till I'd give all my women a long, long, happy home
hey, I love my baby, just like I love myself
Oh, just like I love myself
Well, if she don't have me, she won't have nobody else
Son House - Pony Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Pony Blues :
Why don't you catch my pony, now saddle up my black mare?
...my pony, saddle up, up my black mare?
You know, I'm gonna find my baby, well, in the world somewhere
You know, he's a travelin' horse, an' he's too black bad
He's a travelin' pony, I declare, he's too black bad
You know, he got a gait, now, no Shetlan' ain't never had
You know, I taken him by the rein an' I led him around and 'round
I say, I taken him by the reins an' I, I led him, him 'round and 'round
You know, he ain't the best in the world, but he's the best ever been in this town
You know, he's a travelin' horse and he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony and he don't deny his name
You know, the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame
Why don't you come up here, pony, now come on, please let's us go
I said, "Come up, get up now, please pony, now let's us go"
Let's we saddle on down on the Gulf of, of Mexico
You know, the horse that I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
I say, the pony I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
You know, a horse with them many gaits, you know, I'm bound to win the race
He's a travelin' horse an' he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony, he don't deny his name
the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame
Howlin' Wolf
All songs written by Willie Dixon (Arc Music Corp- BMI) except * by Chester Burnett (Arc Music Corp- BMI) and ** by James B. Oden (Arc Music Corp- BMI)
SHAKE FOR ME
Sure look good, but it don't mean a thing to me
Sure look good, but it don't mean a thing to me
I got a hip-shaking woman, shake like a willow tree
You better wait baby, you got back a little too late.
You better wait baby, you got back a little too late.
I got a cool-shaking baby, shake like jello on a plate
When my baby walk, you know she's fine and mellow
When my baby walk, you know she's fine and mellow
Every time she stops, her flesh it shake like jello
Shake it baby, shake it for me
Shake lil' baby, shake it for me
Oh, shake it little baby, shake like a willow tree
THE RED ROOSTER
I had a little red rooster too lazy to crow for day
I had a little red rooster too lazy to crow for day
Keep everything in the barnyard upset in every way
Oh, them dogs begin to bark, hounds begin to howl
Oh, them dogs begin to bark, hounds begin to howl
Oh, Watch out strange kin people, little red rooster's on the prowl
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him on home
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him on home
There ain't no peace in the barnyard since my little red rooster's been gone
YOU'LL BE MINE
You so sweet, you so fine
How I wish you were mine
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You so nice, you so true
I'm so glad I love you
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
Tell me pretty baby is you gonna try
If you say it baby, hang on baby
till the day I die
It's so true I love you
I don't care what you do
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
Tell me pretty baby is you gonna try
If you say it baby, hang on baby
till the day I die
That is true I love you
I don't care what you do
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine (fade out)
WHO'S BEEN TALKIN' *
My baby caught the train, left me all alone
My baby caught the train, left me all alone
She knows I love her, she doin' me wrong
My baby bought the ticket, long as her right arm
My baby bought the ticket, long as my right arm
She says she's gonna ride long as I been from home
Well who been talking, everything that I do
Well who been talking, everything that I do
Well you is my baby, I hate to lose
Well goodbye baby, hate to see you go.
Well goodbye baby, hate to see you go.
You know I love you I'm the causin of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
WANG DANG DOODLE
Tell Automatic Slim , tell Razor Totin' Jim
Tell Butcher Knife Totin' Annie, tell Fast Talking Fanny
A we gonna pitch a ball, a down to that union hall
We gonna romp and tromp till midnight
We gonna fuss and fight till daylight
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
Tell Kudu-Crawlin' Red, tell Abyssinian Ned
Tell ol' Pistol Pete, everybody gonna meet
Tonight we need no rest, we really gonna throw a mess
We gonna to break out all of the windows, we gonna kick down all the doors
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
Tell Fats and Washboard Sam, that everybody gonna to jam
Tell Shaky and Boxcar Joe, we got sawdust on the floor
Tell Peg and Caroline Dye, we gonna have a time.
When the fish scent fill the air, there'll be snuff juice everywhere
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
SPOONFUL
It could be a spoonsful of diamonds,
Could be a spoonful of gold,
Just a little spoon of your precious love,
Satisfies my soul.
Men lies about little,
Some of them cries about little,
Some of them dies about little,
Everything fight about little spoonful.
It could be a spoonful of coffee,
Could be a spoonful of tea,
But a little spoon of your precious love,
Good enough for me.
Men lies about that,
Some of them dies about that,
Some of them cries about that,
But everything fight about that spoonful.
That spoon, dat spoon, dat spoonful.
It could be a spoonsful of water,
Saved from the deserts sand,
But one spoon of them fortifies.
Save you from another man.
Men lies about that,
Some of them cries about that,
Some of them dies about that,
Everybody fightin' about that spoonful.
That spoon, dat spoon, dat spoonful.
BACK DOOR MAN
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but the little girls understand.
When everybody's sound asleep,
I'm somewhere making my midnight creep.
Yes in the morning, the rooster crow.
Something tell me, I got to go.
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but little girls understand.
They take me to the doctor. Shot full o' holes.
Nurse cried, please save the soul.
Killed him for murder, first degree.
Judge's wife cried. Let the man go free.
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but little girls understand.
Stand out there. Cop's wife cried.
Don't take him down. Rather be dead.
Six feets in the ground.
When you come home you can eat pork and beans.
I eats mo' chicken any man seen
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but the little girls understand.
HOWLIN' FOR MY BABY
Pretty baby. Come on home. I love you.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darlin'.
She's hot like red pepper. Sweet like cherry wine.
I'm so glad she love me. Love me all the time.
She's my little baby, sweet as she can be.
All this love she's got, do belongs to me.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.
My baby. Come on home. I love you. Come on home.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.
Every time she kiss me, she makes the lights go out.
From early in the morning, she makes me jump and shout.
This bad love she got, makes me laugh and cry.
Makes me really know, that I'm too young to die.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.
Come on. I love you. Pretty baby.
Reverend Pearly Brown doing Blind Willie Johnson - In My Time Of Dyin' lyrics
Lyrics to In My Time Of Dyin' :
Well, in my time of dyin', don't want nobody to moan
All I want for you to do is take my body home
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed
Well, meet me, Jesus, meet me, meet me in the middle of the air
If these wings should fail me, Lord, won't you meet me with another pair
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed
Lord, in my time of dyin', don't want nobody to cry
All I want you to do, is take me when I die
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed
Reverend Pearly Brown doing Blind Willie Johnson - It's Nobody's Fault But Mine Lyrics to It's Nobody's Fault But Mine :
Nobody's fault but mine,
nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost
I have a bible in my home,
I have a bible in my home
If I don't read it my soul be lost
Mmm, father he taught me how to read,
father he taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine
Ah, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost
Ah, I have a bible of my own,
I have a bible of my own
If I don't read it my soul be lost
Oh, mother she taught me how to read,
mother she taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine
Ah, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost
And sister she taught me how to read,
sister she taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine
Ah, mmm, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul'd be lost, mmm
Aberdeen Mississippi 2:33 Trk 9
Bukka White (Booker T. Washington White)
Bukka White - vocal & guitar
& Washboard Sam (Robert Brown) - wshbrd.
Recorded: March 7th & 8th 1940 Chicago, Illinois
Album: Parchman Farm Blues, Roots RTS 33055
Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
Them Aberdeen women told me
Will buy my gasoline
Hey, two little women
That I ain't ever seen
They has two little women
That I ain't never seen
These two little women
Just from New Orlean
Ooh, sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
I'm sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
Well, I believe them Aberdeen women
Gonna make me lose my mind, yeah
(slide guitar & washboard)
Aber-deen is my home
But the mens don't want me around
Aberdeen is my home
But the men don't want me around
They know I will take these women
An take them outta town
Listen, you Aberdeen women
You know I ain't got no dime
Oh-oh listen you women
You know'd I ain't got no dime
They been had the po' boy
All up and down.
(guitar & washboard to end)
Fixin' To Die Blues lyrics
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
And I believe I'm fixin' to die
Believe I'm fixin' to die
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
Now, I believe I'm fixin' to die, yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah
Just as sho' we live
It's a, sho' we's born to die
Sho' we's born to die
Just as sho's we live
Sho' we's born to die
Yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah
Yo mother treated me, children
Like I was her baby child
Was her baby child
Yo mother treated me
Like I was her baby child
That's why's I sighed
Sighed so hard
And come back home to die
Yeah
So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
How my chillen's mother would cry
So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
Yeah
'Cause I told the mother I had to say, goodbye
Look over yon-der
On the buryin' ground
On the buryin' ground
Look over yonder, on the burying ground
Yon' stand ten thousand
Standin' still to let me down
Yeah
(washboard & guitar)
Mother, take my chillen back
Before they let me down
Before they let me down
Mother, take my chillen back
'Fore they let me down
Ain't no need a-them screamin' an cryin'
On the graveyard ground.
(washboard & guitar to end)
Shake 'em On Down lyrics
Yes, you're a nice girl, mama
And little girl
Night before day
We gonna
Shake 'em on down
I need some time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down
Too much is debted to me
Through the week
Save these chili peppers
Some ol' rainy day, here
Best I'm hollerin', now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down, now
Fix my supper
Let me go to bed
This white lightnin' done gone
To my head
Oh, must I holler now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down
I ain't been in Georgia, babe
I been told
Georgia women got the best
Jellyroll
These nights time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down
See See mama, heard
You, done-done
Made me love you, now I know
Man done coming
Best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down
Pretty girl's got
They don't know
What it is
Make me drunk at that old
Whiskey still
It's best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin'
Must I shake 'em on down.
Poor Boy Long Way From Home by Bukka White Lyrics
Poor boy a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
I don't have no happy home to go home to
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
She wanna know, 'Daddy, when you comin' back home?'
(guitar)
They got me down here on the farm
Got me down here on old farm
I don't have no one to come and go my bail
Baby, I wanna come back home to you
(guitar)
Sorry, baby I can't call you over the phone
Sorry, I can't call you over the phone
'Cause they got me down here long distance phone
But I can't call you baby over the phone.
(guitar to end)
DVD REVIEW
Devil Got My Woman: Blues At Newport 1966, Skip James, Son House, Howlin’ Wolf, Bukka White and the Reverend Pearly Brown, Vestapol Productions, 1996
I have spent some considerable effort in this space reviewing various trends in the blues tradition, including both the country blues and the later electrified urban sound most closely associated with places like Memphis and Chicago. As is fairly well known country blues got its start down in the South during the early part of the 20th century (if not earlier) as a way for blacks (mainly) to cope with the dreaded, deadly work on the plantations (picking that hard to pick cotton). The electric blues really came of age in the post World War I period and later when there was a massive black migration out of the south in search of the, now disappearing, industrial jobs up north (and to get out from under old Jim Crow racial segregation). In this volume (and similarly in a couple of other previously reviewed volumes in this series) Stefan Grossman, the renowned guitar teacher and performer in his own right, has taken old film clips and segments from an Alan Lomax experiment at the Newport Folk Festival of putting exemplars of both traditions together under one roof and has produced an hour of classic performances by some masters of the genre. Wow.
Let me set the stage on this one to give you a small, small sense of what an historic blues cultural occasion this was. Alan Lomax, the famous musicologist and folk performer, put the then recently rediscovered Skip James and Son House and the already well known and powerful voice of Howlin' Wolf together under one roof. Oh yes, and then added Bukka White and the Reverend Pearly Brown to the mix. The motif: an attempt to recreate an old fashioned "juke joint'" from back in the days on a Down South rural Saturday night complete with dancing and plenty of liquor. Watch out.
Needless to say anyone even vaguely familiar with the long and storied history of the early blues knows that this was indeed an historic, and fleeting, occasion. 1966 might have been one of the few years that such an event could have been put together as the old country blues singers were starting to past from the scene. But as fate would have it we got one last chance to look at these five performers going head to head, everyone one way or another a legend. With the partial exception of the Reverend Pearly Brown and his religiously- oriented country blues done in the shout and response style of the old Baptist churches reflecting the tradition made popular by the Reverend Blind Willie Johnson, all the other performers have rated plenty of ink in this space as members of one or another branch of the blues pantheon.
A few of the highlights. Skip James' rendition of his classic "I'd Rather Be The Devil That Be That Woman's Man" (also known by the title of this documentary "Devil Got My Woman"). I have gotten more mileage out of my use of that title in various political commentaries in this space than I deserve. Thanks, Skip. Son House brought out his classic "Death Letter Blues" that I always go crazy over. Howlin' Wolf is, well, Howlin' Wolf as he almost inhales the harmonica on "How Many More Years" and does an incredible cover of the old Robert Johnson/Elmore James song "Dust My Broom". Reverend Brown does a very soulful rendition of the tradtional religious blues classic "Keep Your Lamp Trimmed And Burning".
So who is left? Well Bukka White, of course. Bukka is a recent addition to my personal blues pantheon and I have spend some effort praising his work, especially his smoking guitar work on that old National Steel guitar that he makes hum. Hell, I would have walked to Mississippi to hear that. This documentary has a separate songs section so that one can replay any song that one wants to without having to replay the whole film (although I did that as well). So who got replayed? Yes Bukka on "100 Men" (with Howlin' Wolf doing the response and some unknown washboard player as backup). Yes indeed, this was the blues shootout to end all shootouts. If you want to know what it was like to see men play the blues for keeps look here.
Devil Got My Woman lyrics
You know, I'd rather be the ol' devil
Well, I'd rather be the devil
Then to be that woman' man
You know, rather be the devil
Than to be that woman' man
You know, I'm so sorry
You know, so sorry
That I ever fell in love wit' you-ooo-hoo-oo
Because you know you don't treat me
Baby, like you used ta do-hoo
You know, I laid down last night
You know, I laid down last night
And I thought to take me some rest
But my mind got to rambling
Like a wild geese from the west
You know the woman that I love
The woman that I love
I stol't her from my best friend
But you know he done got lucky
An he done got her back, again
You know, I used to cut your kindleing
You know, I used to cut your kindleing
Baby, then I made you some fire
Then I would tote all your water
Way, way, way, from the bogy brier
You know, my baby she don't drink whiskey
My baby, she don't drink no whiskey
An I know she ain't crazy about wine
Now, it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done changed my baby's mind
You know, I could be right
You know, I could be right
Then again, I could be wrong
But it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done got my baby
Now he done gone.
I'm So Glad lyrics
Eee, an I'm so glad
Yes sir, I'm glad
Until I just don't know
What to do
An I am tired a-weeping
I'm so tired a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you
(guitar)
Eee, an I am so -
Yes, I am mighty glad
Until I just don't know what -
Would you be my little darlin'?
Would you be my dear?
Would you be my darlin'
Be my dear?
Then I would be mighty -
I would be mighty glad
Then I just wouldn't know
What to do
When I say, 'Coo-coo-coo'
Just like a little baby, do
I would love to have
A lovely kiss from you
Then I would be mighty -
Then I would be so -
Until I just wouldn't know -
You know, I'm tired a-weeping
I'm so tired of a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you
(guitar)
Eee, an I am so glad
Yes, I'm so glad
Until I just don't know
What to do-ooo-woo-ooo-ooo.
Cherry Ball Blues lyrics
I love my little cherry ball
Better than I love myself
I love my cherry ball
Better than I love myself
Then if she don't love me
She can't love nobody else
Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
You know, what it take to get her back
I carries it ev'ryday
Now, I left cherry ball standin'
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Now, I left cherry ball
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Of course, I feel her condition
But her trouble ain't none a-mine
She's just like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
She's like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
You know, she done quit me
She quit me without a cause
Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
You know, that I love her
But her disposition I do dispise
Now, you can take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
Now, you take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
I'm gon' ride an gon' ramble
'Till cherry ball come back to me
She got to come on back home to me-ee-ee.
Son House - Death Letter lyrics
Lyrics to Death Letter :
I got a letter this mornin, how do you reckon it read?
It said, "Hurry, hurry, yeah, your love is dead"
I got a letter this mornin, I say how do you reckon it read?
You know, it said, "Hurry, hurry, how come the gal you love is dead?"
So, I grabbed up my suitcase, and took off down the road
When I got there she was layin on a coolin' board
I grabbed up my suitcase, and I said and I took off down the road
I said, but when I got there she was already layin on a coolin' board
Well, I walked up right close, looked down in her face
Said, the good ol' gal got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day
I walked up right close, and I said I looked down in her face
I said the good ol' gal, she got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day
Looked like there was 10,000 people standin' round the buryin' ground
I didn't know I loved her 'til they laid her down
Looked like 10,000 were standin' round the buryin' ground
You know I didn't know I loved her 'til they damn laid her down
Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
I wouldn't mistreat you baby, for my weight in gold
I said, Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
You know I wouldn't mistreat nobody, baby, not for my weight in gold
Well, I folded up my arms and I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell honey, I'll see you on Judgment Day"
Ah, yeah, oh, yes, I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell, farewell, I'll see you on the Judgment Day"
You know I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
The blues came along and drove my spirit away
I went in my room, I said I bowed down to pray
I said the blues came along and drove my spirit away
You know I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around
I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
You know, I didn't have nobody to throw my arms around
I loved you baby, like I love myself
You don't have me, you won't have nobody else
I loved you baby, better than I did myself
I said now if you don't have me, I didn't want you to have nobody else
You know, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
Ain't no satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Yeah, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
You know it don't look like satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where she used to lay
Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where my good gal used to lay
Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
You know, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
Yeah, you know bout that, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', so I don't have to cry no more
You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', you see, so I don't have to cry no more
Ah, hush, thought I heard her call my name
If it wasn't so loud and so nice and plain
Ah, yeah
Mmmmmm
Well, listen, whatever you do
This is one thing, honey, I tried to get along with you
Yes, no tellin' what you do
I done everything I could, just to try and get along with you
Well, the minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
It seemed like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways
Minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
Seems like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways
You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes leaves you feeling sad and blue
You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes make you feel sad and blue
Son House - Preachin' Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Preachin' Blues :
Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
I'm gonna be a Baptist preacher, and I sure won't have to work
Oh, I'm a-preach these blues, and I, I want everybody to shout
I want everybody to shout
I'm gonna do like a prisoner, I'm gonna roll my time on out
Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Till the blues come along, and they blowed my spirit1 away
Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
But the womens and whiskey, well, they would not set me free
Oh, I wish I had me a heaven of my own
Hey, a heaven of my own
Till I'd give all my women a long, long, happy home
hey, I love my baby, just like I love myself
Oh, just like I love myself
Well, if she don't have me, she won't have nobody else
Son House - Pony Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Pony Blues :
Why don't you catch my pony, now saddle up my black mare?
...my pony, saddle up, up my black mare?
You know, I'm gonna find my baby, well, in the world somewhere
You know, he's a travelin' horse, an' he's too black bad
He's a travelin' pony, I declare, he's too black bad
You know, he got a gait, now, no Shetlan' ain't never had
You know, I taken him by the rein an' I led him around and 'round
I say, I taken him by the reins an' I, I led him, him 'round and 'round
You know, he ain't the best in the world, but he's the best ever been in this town
You know, he's a travelin' horse and he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony and he don't deny his name
You know, the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame
Why don't you come up here, pony, now come on, please let's us go
I said, "Come up, get up now, please pony, now let's us go"
Let's we saddle on down on the Gulf of, of Mexico
You know, the horse that I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
I say, the pony I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
You know, a horse with them many gaits, you know, I'm bound to win the race
He's a travelin' horse an' he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony, he don't deny his name
the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame
Howlin' Wolf
All songs written by Willie Dixon (Arc Music Corp- BMI) except * by Chester Burnett (Arc Music Corp- BMI) and ** by James B. Oden (Arc Music Corp- BMI)
SHAKE FOR ME
Sure look good, but it don't mean a thing to me
Sure look good, but it don't mean a thing to me
I got a hip-shaking woman, shake like a willow tree
You better wait baby, you got back a little too late.
You better wait baby, you got back a little too late.
I got a cool-shaking baby, shake like jello on a plate
When my baby walk, you know she's fine and mellow
When my baby walk, you know she's fine and mellow
Every time she stops, her flesh it shake like jello
Shake it baby, shake it for me
Shake lil' baby, shake it for me
Oh, shake it little baby, shake like a willow tree
THE RED ROOSTER
I had a little red rooster too lazy to crow for day
I had a little red rooster too lazy to crow for day
Keep everything in the barnyard upset in every way
Oh, them dogs begin to bark, hounds begin to howl
Oh, them dogs begin to bark, hounds begin to howl
Oh, Watch out strange kin people, little red rooster's on the prowl
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him on home
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him on home
There ain't no peace in the barnyard since my little red rooster's been gone
YOU'LL BE MINE
You so sweet, you so fine
How I wish you were mine
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You so nice, you so true
I'm so glad I love you
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
Tell me pretty baby is you gonna try
If you say it baby, hang on baby
till the day I die
It's so true I love you
I don't care what you do
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
Tell me pretty baby is you gonna try
If you say it baby, hang on baby
till the day I die
That is true I love you
I don't care what you do
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine (fade out)
WHO'S BEEN TALKIN' *
My baby caught the train, left me all alone
My baby caught the train, left me all alone
She knows I love her, she doin' me wrong
My baby bought the ticket, long as her right arm
My baby bought the ticket, long as my right arm
She says she's gonna ride long as I been from home
Well who been talking, everything that I do
Well who been talking, everything that I do
Well you is my baby, I hate to lose
Well goodbye baby, hate to see you go.
Well goodbye baby, hate to see you go.
You know I love you I'm the causin of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
WANG DANG DOODLE
Tell Automatic Slim , tell Razor Totin' Jim
Tell Butcher Knife Totin' Annie, tell Fast Talking Fanny
A we gonna pitch a ball, a down to that union hall
We gonna romp and tromp till midnight
We gonna fuss and fight till daylight
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
Tell Kudu-Crawlin' Red, tell Abyssinian Ned
Tell ol' Pistol Pete, everybody gonna meet
Tonight we need no rest, we really gonna throw a mess
We gonna to break out all of the windows, we gonna kick down all the doors
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
Tell Fats and Washboard Sam, that everybody gonna to jam
Tell Shaky and Boxcar Joe, we got sawdust on the floor
Tell Peg and Caroline Dye, we gonna have a time.
When the fish scent fill the air, there'll be snuff juice everywhere
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
SPOONFUL
It could be a spoonsful of diamonds,
Could be a spoonful of gold,
Just a little spoon of your precious love,
Satisfies my soul.
Men lies about little,
Some of them cries about little,
Some of them dies about little,
Everything fight about little spoonful.
It could be a spoonful of coffee,
Could be a spoonful of tea,
But a little spoon of your precious love,
Good enough for me.
Men lies about that,
Some of them dies about that,
Some of them cries about that,
But everything fight about that spoonful.
That spoon, dat spoon, dat spoonful.
It could be a spoonsful of water,
Saved from the deserts sand,
But one spoon of them fortifies.
Save you from another man.
Men lies about that,
Some of them cries about that,
Some of them dies about that,
Everybody fightin' about that spoonful.
That spoon, dat spoon, dat spoonful.
BACK DOOR MAN
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but the little girls understand.
When everybody's sound asleep,
I'm somewhere making my midnight creep.
Yes in the morning, the rooster crow.
Something tell me, I got to go.
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but little girls understand.
They take me to the doctor. Shot full o' holes.
Nurse cried, please save the soul.
Killed him for murder, first degree.
Judge's wife cried. Let the man go free.
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but little girls understand.
Stand out there. Cop's wife cried.
Don't take him down. Rather be dead.
Six feets in the ground.
When you come home you can eat pork and beans.
I eats mo' chicken any man seen
I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but the little girls understand.
HOWLIN' FOR MY BABY
Pretty baby. Come on home. I love you.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darlin'.
She's hot like red pepper. Sweet like cherry wine.
I'm so glad she love me. Love me all the time.
She's my little baby, sweet as she can be.
All this love she's got, do belongs to me.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.
My baby. Come on home. I love you. Come on home.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.
Every time she kiss me, she makes the lights go out.
From early in the morning, she makes me jump and shout.
This bad love she got, makes me laugh and cry.
Makes me really know, that I'm too young to die.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.
Come on. I love you. Pretty baby.
Reverend Pearly Brown doing Blind Willie Johnson - In My Time Of Dyin' lyrics
Lyrics to In My Time Of Dyin' :
Well, in my time of dyin', don't want nobody to moan
All I want for you to do is take my body home
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed
Well, meet me, Jesus, meet me, meet me in the middle of the air
If these wings should fail me, Lord, won't you meet me with another pair
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed
Lord, in my time of dyin', don't want nobody to cry
All I want you to do, is take me when I die
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed
Reverend Pearly Brown doing Blind Willie Johnson - It's Nobody's Fault But Mine Lyrics to It's Nobody's Fault But Mine :
Nobody's fault but mine,
nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost
I have a bible in my home,
I have a bible in my home
If I don't read it my soul be lost
Mmm, father he taught me how to read,
father he taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine
Ah, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost
Ah, I have a bible of my own,
I have a bible of my own
If I don't read it my soul be lost
Oh, mother she taught me how to read,
mother she taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine
Ah, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost
And sister she taught me how to read,
sister she taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine
Ah, mmm, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul'd be lost, mmm
Aberdeen Mississippi 2:33 Trk 9
Bukka White (Booker T. Washington White)
Bukka White - vocal & guitar
& Washboard Sam (Robert Brown) - wshbrd.
Recorded: March 7th & 8th 1940 Chicago, Illinois
Album: Parchman Farm Blues, Roots RTS 33055
Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
Them Aberdeen women told me
Will buy my gasoline
Hey, two little women
That I ain't ever seen
They has two little women
That I ain't never seen
These two little women
Just from New Orlean
Ooh, sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
I'm sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
Well, I believe them Aberdeen women
Gonna make me lose my mind, yeah
(slide guitar & washboard)
Aber-deen is my home
But the mens don't want me around
Aberdeen is my home
But the men don't want me around
They know I will take these women
An take them outta town
Listen, you Aberdeen women
You know I ain't got no dime
Oh-oh listen you women
You know'd I ain't got no dime
They been had the po' boy
All up and down.
(guitar & washboard to end)
Fixin' To Die Blues lyrics
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
And I believe I'm fixin' to die
Believe I'm fixin' to die
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
Now, I believe I'm fixin' to die, yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah
Just as sho' we live
It's a, sho' we's born to die
Sho' we's born to die
Just as sho's we live
Sho' we's born to die
Yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah
Yo mother treated me, children
Like I was her baby child
Was her baby child
Yo mother treated me
Like I was her baby child
That's why's I sighed
Sighed so hard
And come back home to die
Yeah
So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
How my chillen's mother would cry
So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
Yeah
'Cause I told the mother I had to say, goodbye
Look over yon-der
On the buryin' ground
On the buryin' ground
Look over yonder, on the burying ground
Yon' stand ten thousand
Standin' still to let me down
Yeah
(washboard & guitar)
Mother, take my chillen back
Before they let me down
Before they let me down
Mother, take my chillen back
'Fore they let me down
Ain't no need a-them screamin' an cryin'
On the graveyard ground.
(washboard & guitar to end)
Shake 'em On Down lyrics
Yes, you're a nice girl, mama
And little girl
Night before day
We gonna
Shake 'em on down
I need some time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down
Too much is debted to me
Through the week
Save these chili peppers
Some ol' rainy day, here
Best I'm hollerin', now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down, now
Fix my supper
Let me go to bed
This white lightnin' done gone
To my head
Oh, must I holler now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down
I ain't been in Georgia, babe
I been told
Georgia women got the best
Jellyroll
These nights time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down
See See mama, heard
You, done-done
Made me love you, now I know
Man done coming
Best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down
Pretty girl's got
They don't know
What it is
Make me drunk at that old
Whiskey still
It's best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin'
Must I shake 'em on down.
Poor Boy Long Way From Home by Bukka White Lyrics
Poor boy a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
I don't have no happy home to go home to
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
She wanna know, 'Daddy, when you comin' back home?'
(guitar)
They got me down here on the farm
Got me down here on old farm
I don't have no one to come and go my bail
Baby, I wanna come back home to you
(guitar)
Sorry, baby I can't call you over the phone
Sorry, I can't call you over the phone
'Cause they got me down here long distance phone
But I can't call you baby over the phone.
(guitar to end)
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