***Our Ladies Of The Mountain- The Music Of Hazel Dickens And Alice Gerrard

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Hazel Dickens And Alice Gerrard.

CD Review

Hazel And Alice, Hazel Dickens And Alice Gerrard, Rounder , 1991

Recently I have been "running the table" on the mountain music genre. From the pioneer work of the venerable Carter Family through to Ralph Stanley and on to the `revival' brought forth in the early part of this decade by such movies as "Brother, Where Art Thou?" and "Songcatcher" I have paid more than passing tribute to this quintessential American musical form, complete with fiddle, mandolin and lonely Saturday nights out in the hills and hollows of Appalachia and other rural environs. I have, thus, pretty much exhausted the milieu, right? Wrong. No homage to the modern mountain music scene can be complete with out paying tribute to the work of singer/songwriter Hazel Dickens (and at times musical companion Alice Gerrard, among others).

There was time when, if one was given a choice, the name Hazel Dickens would be the first to come up when naming the most well known voice of the modern mountain music tradition. Her voice spoke of the hardships of the rural life, the trials and tribulations of trying to eke out an existence on some hard scrabble rocky farmland or, more likely, in the coals mines or textiles factories that dominated that landscape for much of the second half of the 20th century. That was the pure, almost primordial voice that spoke of the sorrows of hill life, but also the joys of coming to terms with a very personal (and, apparently) angry god by way of singing away those working women blues, and you can add in a few tunes for those hard-bitten farmers and coals miners as well.

So, needless to say, this little CD is filled with original work and covers on just those subjects mentioned above. From a cover of Utah Phillip's "Rolling Hills Of West Virginia" to the Carter Family's "Hello Stranger' and Sweetest Gift" this is what mountain music is like at the top. Listen and see if you agree.

*The Fire Next Time- Bluegrass Variety- Carolina Chocolate Drops

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Carolina Chocolate Drop Doing "Cornbread And Butterbeans"

CD Review

Dona Got A Ramblin’ Mind, Carolina Chocolate Drops (Dom Flemons, Rhiannon Giddens, Justin Robinson and the spirit of fiddler Joe Thompson), MusicMaker, 2006.



Recently I posed a question in this space about who would continue the blues tradition today, now that most, if not all, of the famous old blues singers are dead or retired. One answer that I came up with was the talented Keb’ Mo’. There are others I am sure. I have also posed that same question here in regard to the folk music movement that now is seeing more than its fair share of old time performers pass from the scene, most recently the likes of Odetta and Utah Phillips. One answer that I came up with was the talented Woody Guthrie devotee Alastair Moock. Again, there are others I am sure. Here I pose the same question in regard to another important form of American music, bluegrass (or more generally, mountain music). As previously, the role of succession begs an important question now that many of the best of this genre have also passed or retired. Who would, if anyone, continue that old tradition?

That is where the artists under review, Carolina Chocolate Drops, come into the picture. When I think about Carolina, in this case North Carolina, I think of the famous black women virtuoso blues guitarists, Elizabeth Cotton and Etta Baker, whom I have previously reviewed in this space. More generally though I think of Ralph Stanley, Doc and Merle Watson and other white musicians from the mountains. I admit my error. That is not nearly inclusive enough. I have noted previously that in the 19th century the closeness of black and white variations of rural music were quite common and, in some cases, mutually shared. I then gave, as an example, the classic song “John Henry” done by both races in many variations. Thus, for these talented young black musicians to take up the struggle for continuity is a natural. And this CD proves the point. Enough said.

So what is good here? Obviously the classic “Sally Ann” that like “John Henry” has had a million incarnations. Hats off also to “Little Sadie” and “Black Annie”. However, if you only have time to listen to one give a listen to the title track “Dona Got A Ramblin’ Mind” then you will know why the old bluegrass tradition like the blues and folk ones are still in capable hands. Kudos, Drops.

*********************

Sally Ann

SALLY ANN [1]. AKA and see “Beano,” “Darneo,” "Dineo." Old‑Time, Breakdown. USA; West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina. D Major. Standard tuning. AABB. One version of the tune was recorded for the Library of Congress by musicologist/folklorist Vance Randolph from Ozark Mountain fiddlers in the early 1940's. See also related tunes "Big Sweet Taters in Sandy Land," "Great Big Tater(s) in Sandy Land/Lot," "Sandy Land," "Sail Away Ladies" (Kentucky/Tennessee), "Wish(ed) I Had My Time Again" (Ky.). One version of the tune goes by the name "Dineo" in the Franklin/Floyd County area of southwestern Virginia, and it was recorded as “Darneo” by the Blue Ridge Highballers (Yazoo CD 2046). Among the many early recordings of the tune was a version by the Ashe County, North Carolina, string band Frank Blevins and His Tar Hell Rattlers, a name made up on the spot at the 1927 Columbia recording session in Atlanta for 16 year old fiddler Frank Blevins, his older brother and guitarist Ed Blevins and banjo player Fred Miller. The band’s playing was inspired by a few shots of corn liquor from a convenient jug. The Hill Billies, a Galax, Va., area band, recorded an influential version in 1925 (re-released on Document DOCD-8039). Fiddler Joe Birchfield (1911-2001) of Roan Mountain, Tennessee, played a version of “Sally Ann” in the key of C.

***

Cecil Sharp noted the following set of words from Mrs. Dellie Hughes of Crane River, Burnsville, North Carolina, in 1918:

***

O where are you going Sally Anne (x3)

I’m going to the wedding, Sally Anne.

***

O shake that little foot, Sally Anne (x3)

You’re a pretty good dancer, Sally Anne.

***

These are from another traditional source (from Mudcat):

***

Ever see a muskrat, Sally Ann,

Draggin' his thick tail through the sand,

Pickin' a banjo, kickin' up sand?

I'm gonna marry you, Sally Ann.

***

Chorus:

I'm gonna marry you, Sal gal,

I'm gonna marry you, Sally Ann.

I'm gonna marry you, Sal gal,

I'm gonna marry you, Sally Ann.

***

Make my livin' in sandy land,

Make my livin' in sandy land,

Make my livin' in sandy land,

Raise them taters, Sally Ann.

***

So, y'ever see a muskrat, Sally Ann,

Draggin' his thick tail through the sand,

Pickin' a banjo, kickin' up sand?

I'm gonna marry you, Sally Ann.

***

Source for notated version: John Ashby (Virginia) [Brody, Phillips]. Brody (Fiddler’s Fakebook), 1983; pg. 244. Phillips (Traditional American Fiddle Tunes), vol. 1, 1994; pg. 209. County 405, "The Hillbillies." County 727, John Ashby‑ "Old Virginia Fiddling." Document 8039, “The Hill Billies/Al Hopkins and His Buckle Busters: Compoete Recorded Works in Chronological Order, vol. 1” (reissue). Folkways FA2434, Norman Edmonds and the Old Timers ‑ "The 37th Old‑Time Fiddlers' Convention at Union Grove, North Carolina" (1961). Library of Congress (2741-B-1), 1939, J.W. 'Peg' Thatcher (Franklin County, Virginia). Musical Traditions MTCD321-2, Pug Allen (et al.) – “Far on the Mountain: vol’s. 1 & 2” (re-release, 2002). OKeh 40336 (78 RPM), The Hillbillies (1925). Old Hat Enterprises CD, “Music from the Lost Provinces” (1997). Revonah RS‑932, The West Orrtanna String Band ‑ "An Orrtanna Home Companion" (1978. Learned from Henry Reed via the Hollow Rock String Band). Rounder 0058, Clell Caudill‑ "Old Originals, vol. II" (1978). Rounder CD0262, Mike Seegar - "Fresh Old-Time String Band Music" (1988. Appears as "Pork Fat Makes My Chicken Tan," an unusual variation by the Horseflies and the Agents of Terra, Ithaca, N.Y., string bands in which the fiddle is tuned EDad). Yodel-Ay-Hee 020, Rafe Stefanini & Bob Herring - "Old Paint."

*Clinch Mountain Sweethearts, Indeed!- Ralph Stanley And Friends

In Honor Of The Late Ralph Stanley- Clinch Mountain Sweethearts, Indeed!- Ralph Stanley And Friends

A YouTube's Film Clip Of Ralph Stanley Doing "Oh Death".



CD Review

Clinch Mountain Sweethearts, Ralph Stanley and Friends, Rebel Records, 2001



In a recent DVD review of the now mountain music movie classic, George Clooney's "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?", I mentioned in passing the name of the artist under review here, Ralph Stanley. I also noted that this grand master of mountain music as it derived from The Carter Family strain was eminently worthy of a separate review on his own merits. I make amends here. I think that this settles all debts by all parties.



That said, the following excerpt from that above-mentioned review can be used here to set the tone for a look at Ralph Stanley's work here:



"Sometimes a revival of a musical form, like the "talking blues", that highlighted the urban folk revival of the early 1960's is driven by a social need. In that case it was to provide a format for the "glad tidings" that a new political and social movement was a-bornin'. In the case of the revival several years ago of what is called "mountain music" it was the films "The Song Catcher" and, more importantly, the very popular movie starring George Clooney " O Brother, Where Art Thou?" The CD under review is a compilation of music from that movie, a not unnatural tie-in in the modern entertainment business. The movie deserves a separate review, however, this CD can stand on its own as a very nice cross section of "mountain music", some familiar most not so.



Without straining credulity "mountain music" is the music of the simple folk of Appalachia, those who worked hard in the coal mines, on the hard scrabble farms and in the isolated mills of the region. This was their Saturday night entertainment and with the advent of radio was a unifying cultural experience. The songs "speak" of hard and lonely lives, the beauty of the then pristine countryside, the usual vagaries of love and lost and the mysterious ways of a very personal, if arbitrary, god. Throw in a few upbeat tunes reflecting the love of "corn" liquor, women and the sometimes funny side of coping with life's trials and tribulations and you have the mountain version of the folk experience. Sound familiar? Sure it does, except, it is done with simple guitar, a blazing fiddle and, hopefully, a full-bodied mandolin."



After that introduction it would seem hardly necessary to do more than list the outstanding tracks on this CD. Except one thing. Ralph has gathered around his "good old boy" self a virtual who's who of female country singers, female folk singers, female folk rock singers, female rock folk singers and ..., well you get the drift. Most of the names here have popped up in other reviews, or will do so in the future. Start with my "Internet Sweetheart", Iris Dement on "Ridin' The Midnight Train" and "Trust Each Other". Folk legend Joan Baez on "Weeping Willow". Maria Muldaur, early on from the Jim Kweskin Jug Band and now a "blues mama" extraordinaire in her own right, on "This Memory Of Yours". Melba Montgomery on the classic country song " You Win Again". Lucinda Williams on "Farther Along". And last but not least Gillian Welch on the Stanley national anthem "Oh Death". Did I kid you? This as an All-Star A-list (excepting only Emmylou Harris and Bonnie Raitt). How did the old coot do it? Enjoy.




Ralph Stanley — Daddy's Wildwood Flower lyrics


INSTRUMENTAL INTRO



Mama was his Wildwood Flower, my Daddy used to say,
And to prove to her he loved her, he'd play it every day.
Mom would look at him and smile, she'd say, "God bless my man,
I don't regret one single time that I gave him my hand."

REFRAIN
The Wildwood Flower
(The Wildwood Flower)
Was his favorite song,
And when he played for Mama,
Her house became a home.

INSTRUMENTAL BREAK

Mom took sick and passed away, this was his darkest hour.
He came home that very day and he played the Wildwood Flower.
Time went by and he grew old, he'd sit and play for hours,
Mem'ries of Mom on his old guitar, he'd play the Wildwood Flower.

REFRAIN

INSTRUMENTAL BREAK

One night, as I walked by his house, I though I heard his song.
I heard Mama talkin', but Mom had long been gone.
I looked through the window and saw God's mighty power,
There sat Mom with Daddy, he was playin' the Wildwood Flower.

REFRAIN

INSTRUMENTAL BREAK

As he grew old, he could play no more, and his mind began to fail.
We'd often find him in the field, he seemed so old and frail.
One day, we couldn't find him, and after many days,
Found him lyin' with the wildwood flowers, up on Mama's grave.

REFRAIN



INSTRUMENTAL OUTRO

*In The Time Of The Mountain Music Revival- The Film "Songcatcher"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Iris Dement Doing "Pretty Saro" in the film "Songcatcher".

CD/DVD Reviews

This review is being used to comment on both the soundtrack CD and movie DVD.

CD- Songcatcher, various artists, Vanguard Records, 2001

DVD-Songcatcher,2001

In a recent CD review of the music from the now mountain music movie classic, George Clooney’s “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?”, (See archives, July 7, 2009) I mentioned in passing that the movie from which the CD under review is taken was also a contributing factor to the revival of interest in the mountain music genre. I also noted there that the CD and film were worthy of a separate review of their own. I make amends here and I think that this settles all debts.

That said, the following excerpt from that above-mentioned review can be used here to set the tone for a look at this “Songcatcher” (and a couple of words on the movie, as postscript) here:

“Sometimes a revival of a musical form, like the "talking blues", that highlighted the urban folk revival of the early 1960's is driven by a social need. In that case it was to provide a format for the "glad tidings" that a new political and social movement was a-bornin'. In the case of the revival several years ago of what is called "mountain music" it was the films "The Song Catcher" and, more importantly, the very popular movie starring George Clooney, “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”. The CD under review is a compilation of music from that movie, a not unnatural tie-in in the modern entertainment business. The movie deserves a separate review, however, this CD can stand on its own as a very nice cross section of "mountain music", some familiar most not so.

Without straining credulity "mountain music" is the music of the simple folk of Appalachia, those who worked hard in the coal mines, on the hard scrabble farms and in the isolated mills of the region. This was their Saturday night entertainment and with the advent of radio was a unifying cultural experience. The songs "speak" of hard and lonely lives, the beauty of the then pristine countryside, the usual vagaries of love and lost and the mysterious ways of a very personal, if arbitrary, god. Throw in a few upbeat tunes reflecting the love of "corn" liquor, women and the sometimes funny side of coping with life's trials and tribulations and you have the mountain version of the folk experience. Sound familiar? Sure it does, except, it is done with simple guitar, a blazing fiddle and, hopefully, a full-bodied mandolin.”

With that in mind there only remains the need to highlight some of the better efforts here. For starters, apparently, I knew the work of Iris Dement long before I consciously knew her work. I have mentioned in reviews of her work that I had become enamored of her music through her rendition of “Jimmy Rodgers Going Home” on a Greg Brown (now her husband) tribute CD. From the copyright date here (and on Ralph Stanley’s “Clinch Mountain Sweethearts” where she also does a couple of tracks) that is now incorrect. What is not wrong is that her lyrics and vocal range have led me to dub her my “Internet Sweetheart” (Sorry, Greg). And she does not fail here on the traditional “Pretty Saro”. Needless to say no country music/folk music/ folk rock music presentation of any kind is complete these days without a contribution form Emmylou Harris. Here she does a split version of the traditional Child Ballad “Barbara Allen”. Of course, when one talks of mountain music in its 20th century incarnation then the name The Carter Family is front and center. Thus, naturally, one of the representatives from that extended clan, Roseanne Cash, is a welcome addition here doing the old traditional “Fair And Tender Ladies” (a version of which that I first heard way back in the early 1960’s done by Dave Van Ronk). Finally, of necessity again, no “hard” mountain music themed production can be complete without a piece from Hazel Dickens who, as a woman of those mountains, has probably done more to popularize this art form than anyone else. So listen up to a genuine piece of Americana.

Note: Although I am mainly interested in the ‘Songcatcher” film for its soundtrack the movie itself is worth seeing. The plot line revolves around an English woman’s search for authentic American music from the mountains (naturally enough as much of the music crossed over from the British Isles). Sound familiar? Along the way she learns, perhaps more than she wants to know, about this milieu as she collects her music. Naturally, in such a commercial effort there s a little love interest thrown in with a real live mountain man musician wary of “city ways” from his own earlier experiences. Other themes touched upon, although in some cases obliquely, are the isolation of rural life, that just- mentioned conflict between rural and city values, religious fundamentalism and the, seemingly obligatory, nod to same sex issues (here, in a dramatically compelling way, lesbianism and the local reaction to it) that feature in many modern movies. Put the music and those themes together and you have a passable couple of hours. If you have to choose though, get the CD.

"Pretty Saro"

When I first come to this country in Eighteen and Forty-nine
I saw many fair lovers but I never saw mine
I viewed it all around me, saw I was quite alone
and me a poor stranger and a long way from home

Well, my true love she won't have me and it's this I understand
For she wants some free holder and I have no land
I couldn't maintain her on silver and gold
but all of the other fine things that my love's house could hold

Fair the well to ol' mother, fair the well to my father too
I'm going for to ramble this wide world all through
And when I get weary, I'll sit down and cry
and think of my Saro, pretty Saro, my bride

Well, I wished I was a turtle dove
Had wings and could fly
Far away to my lover's lodgings
Tonight I'd drawn the line
And there in her lilywhite arms I'd lay there all night
and watch through them little wind'ers
for the dawning of day

The Ballad of Barbara Allen

Was in the merry month of May
When green buds all were swelling,
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen.

All in the merry month of May
When green buds all were swelling,
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to the town
To the place where she was dwelling,
Said you must come, to my master dear
If your name be Barbara Allen.

He sent his servant to the town
A place where she did dwell in,
Said master dear, has sent me here
If your name be Barbara Allen.
So slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she drew nigh him,
And the only words to him did say
Young man I think you're dying.

Then slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she went to him,
And all she said, when there she came
Young man I think you're dying.
He turned his face unto the wall
When we were in the tavern,
Good-bye, good-bye, to my friends all
Be good to Barbara Allen.

Don't you remember the other night
And death was in him welling,
You drank a toast to the ladies there
And slighted Barbara Allen.
When he was dead and laid in grave
She heard the death bells melling
And every stroke to her did say
Hard hearted Barbara Allen.

He turned his face unto the wall
He turned his back upon her,
Adieu, adieu, to all my friends
And be kind, be kind, to Barbara Allen.
Oh mother, oh mother go dig my grave
Make it both long and narrow,
Sweet William died of love for me
And I will die of sorrow.

As she was wandering by the fields
She heard the death bells melling
And every note did seem to say
Hard hearted Barbara Allen.
And father, oh father, go dig my grave
Make it both long and narrow,
Sweet William died on yesterday
And I will die tomorrow.

The more it tolled the more she grieved
She bursted out a crying,
Oh pick me up and carry me home
I feel that I am dying.
Barbara Allen was buried in the old churchyard
Sweet William was buried beside her,
Out of sweet William's heart, there grew a rose
From Barbara's a green briar.

They buried Willy in the old churchyard
And Barbara in the new one,
And from Willy's grave, there grew a rose
Out of Barbara Allen's a briar.
They grew and grew in the old churchyard
Till they could grow no higher
At the end they formed, a true lover's knot
And the rose grew round the briar.

Fair and Tender Ladies

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

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

If I had known before I courted
That love had been so hard to win
I'd locked my heart with the keys of golden
And pinned it down with a silver pin

I wish I was a little sparrow
And I had wings to fly so high
I'd fly away to my false true lover
And when he'd ask I would deny

But I am not a little sparrow, I have no wings, neither can I fly
So I'll sit down to weep in sorrow, And try to pass my troubles on by

Love is handsome, love is charming
And love is pretty while it's new
But love grows cold as love grows older
And fades away like morning dew

*Our Lady Of The Mountain-The Music Of Hazel Dickens

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Hazel Dickens Doing "A Few Old Memories".

CD Review

It’s Hard To Tell The Singer From The Song, Hazel Dickens and other artists, Rounder Records, 1987

Recently I have been "running the table" on the mountain music genre. From the pioneer work of the venerable Carter Family through to Ralph Stanley and on to the `revival' brought forth in the early part of this decade by such movies as "Brother, Where Art Thou?" and "Songcatcher" I have paid more than passing tribute to this quintessential American musical form, complete with fiddle, mandolin and lonely Saturday nights out in the hills and hollows of Appalachia and other rural environs. I have, thus, pretty much exhausted the milieu, right? Wrong. No homage to the modern mountain music scene can be complete with out paying tribute to the work of singer/songwriter Hazel Dickens (and at times musical companion Alice Gerrard, among others).

There was time when, if one was given a choice, the name Hazel Dickens would be the first to come up when naming the most well known voice of the modern mountain music tradition. Her voice spoke of the hardships of the rural life, the trials and tribulations of trying to eke out an existence on some hard scrabble rocky farmland or, more likely, in the coals mines or textiles factories that dominated that landscape for much of the second half of the 20th century. That was the pure, almost primordial voice that spoke of the sorrows of hill life, but also the joys of coming to terms with a very personal (and, apparently) angry god by way of singing away those working women blues, and you can add in a few tunes for those hard-bitten farmers and coals miners as well.

So, needless to say, this little Rounder CD from 1987 is filled with original work and covers on just those subjects mentioned above. From a cover of Bob Dylan's "Only A Hobo" to the classic "Hills Of Home" and on to the necessary religious- themed "Will Jesus Wash The Bloodstains From Your Hands" this is what mountain music is like when it is done right. Listen and see if you agree.


Hazel Dickens - A Few Old Memories lyrics

Lyrics to A Few Old Memories :

Just a few old memories
Slipped in through my door
Though I thought I had closed it
So tightly before
I can't understand it
Why it should bother my mind
For it all belongs to another place and time

Just a few old keep-sakes
Way back on the shelf
No, they don't mean nothin'
Well I'm surprised they're still left
Just a few old love letters
With the edges all brown
And an old faded picture
I keep turned upside-down

Just a few old memories
Going way back in time
Well I can hardly remember
I don't know why I'm cryin'
I can't understand it
Well I'm surprised myself
First thing tomorrow morning
I'll clean off that shelf

Just a few old keep-sakes
Way back on the shelf
No, they don't mean nothin'
Well I'm surprised that they're left
Just a few old love letters
With their edges all brown
And an old faded picture
I keep turned upside-down



Hazel Dickens, West Virginia My Home Tabs/Chords

Hazel Dickens is one of my favorite singers, and one of my favorite people. I
have had the pleasure of meeting and singing with her several times at
Augusta, and she is as genuine a person as you're likely to encounter. Her
testimonial to her home state is my all-time favorite song, one that I sing
every day. I learned it from her album entitled "Hard-Hitting Songs for Hard-
Hit People," and I am constantly amazed that a lifelong Illinoisan like myself
can identify so strongly with the bittersweet reverence with which she packs
this powerful ballad. Just as the Everly Brothers, Louvin Brothers, and Blue
Sky Boys did with "Kentucky," Hazel evokes a universal sentiment with this
geographically specific song.

John (a.k.a. "West Virginia Slim")
Chicago

WEST VIRGINIA MY HOME by Hazel Dickens

Chorus:
D G
West Virginia, oh my home.
D A
West Virginia, where I belong.
D
G
In the dead of the night, in the still and the quiet I slip away like a bird
in flight
D A D
Back to those hills, the place that I call home.

It's been years now since I left there
And this city life's about got the best of me.
I can't remember why I left so free what I wanted to do, what I wanted to see,
But I can sure remember where I come from.

Chorus-----

Well I paid the price for the leavin'
And this life I have is not one I thought I'd find.
Just let me live, love, let my cry, but when I go just let me die
Among the friends who'll remember when I'm gone.

Chorus-----

Bridge:
G A D A
Home, home, home. I can see it so clear in my mind.
G A D
A
Home, home, home. I can almost smell the honeysuckle vines.

[Repeat last two lines of chorus.]

The Hills And Hollas Of Home- In Honor Of The Late Hazel Dickens

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of the late Hazel Dickens performing Hills Of Home.

CD Review

It’s Hard To Tell The Singer From The Song, Hazel Dickens, Rounder Records, 1987

Kenny Jackman heard the late Hazel Dickens (d. 2011) for the very first time on her CD album It’s Hard To Tell The Singer From The Song some years back when he was in thrall to mountain music after being hit hard by Reese Witherspoon’s role as June Carter in the film Walk The Line. At that time he was into all things Carter Family unto the nth generation. A friend, a Vermont mountain boy friend, hipped him to Hazel during his frenzy and he picked up the CD second-hand in Harvard Square. Hazel’s You’ll Get No More Of Me, A Few Old Memories and the classic Hills of Home knocked him out. The latter, moreover, seemed kind of familiar and later, a couple of months later, he finally figured out why. He had really first heard Hazel back in 1970 when he was down in the those very hills and hollows that are a constant theme in her work, and that of the mountain mist winds music coming down the crevices. What is going on though? Is it 2005 when he first heard Hazel or that 1970 time? Let me go back and tell that 1970 story.

Kenny Jackman like many of his generation of ’68 was feeling foot loose and fancy free, especially after he had been mercifully declared 4-F by his friendly neighbors local draft board in old hometown North Adamsville. So Kenny, every now and again, took to the hitchhike road, not like his mad man friend Peter Paul Markin with some heavy message purpose a la Jack Kerouac and his beat brothers (and a few sisters) but just to see the country while he, and it, were still in one piece. On one of these trips he found himself kind of stranded just outside Norfolk, Virginia at a road-side campsite. Feeling kind of hungry one afternoon, and tired, tired unto death of camp-side gruel and stews he stopped at a diner, Billy Bob McGee’s, an old-time truck stop diner a few hundred yards up the road from his camp for some real food, maybe meatloaf or some pot roast like grandma used to make or that was how it was advertised.

When he entered the mid-afternoon half-empty diner he sat down at one of the single stool counter seats that always accompany the vinyl-covered side booths in such place. But all of this was so much descriptive noise that could describe a million, maybe more, such eateries. What really caught his attention though was a waitress serving them “off the arm” that he knew immediately he had to “hit” on (although that is not the word used in those days but “hit on” conveys what he was up to in the universal boy meets girl world). As it turned out she, sweetly named Fiona Fay, and, well let’s just call her fetching, Kenny weary-eyed fetching, was young, footloose and fancy free herself and had drawn a bead on him as he entered the place, and, …well this story is about Hazel, so let us just leave it as one thing let to another and let it go at that.

Well, not quite let’s let it go at that because when Kenny left Norfolk a few days later one ex-waitress Fiona Fay was standing by his side on the road south. And the road south was leading nowhere, no where at all except to Podunk, really Prestonsburg, Kentucky, and really, really a dink town named Pottsville, just down the road from big town Prestonsburg, down in the hills and hollows of Appalachia, wind swept green, green, mountain mist, time forgotten . And the reason two footloose and fancy free young people were heading to Podunk is that a close cousin of Fiona’s lived there with her husband and child and wanted Fiona to come visit (visit “for a spell” is how she put it but I will spare the reader the localisms). So they were on that hell-bend road but Kenny, Kenny was dreading this trip and only doing it because, well because Fiona was the kind of young woman, footloose and fancy free or not, that you followed, at least you followed if you were Kenny Jackson and hoped things would work out okay.

What Kenny dreaded that day was that he was afraid to confront his past. And that past just then entailed having to go to his father’s home territory just up the road in Hazard. See Kenny saw himself as strictly a yankee, a hard “we fought to free the slaves and incidentally save the union” yankee for one and all to see back in old North Adamsville. And denied, denied to the high heavens, that he had any connection with the south, especially the hillbilly south that everybody was making a fuse about trying to bring into the 20th century around that time. And here he was with a father with Hazard, Kentucky, the poorest of the poor hillbillies, right on his birth certificate although Kenny had never been there before. Ya, Fiona had better be worth it.

Kenny had to admit, as they picked up one lonely truck driver ride after another (it did not hurt in those days to have a comely lass standing on the road with you in the back road South, or anywhere else, especially with longish hair and a wisp of a beard), that the country was beautiful. As they entered coal country though and the shacks got crummier and crummier he got caught up in that 1960s Michael Harrington Other America no running water, outhouse, open door, one window and a million kids and dogs running around half-naked, the kids that is vision. But they got to Pottsville okay and Fiona’s cousin and husband (Laura and Stu) turned out to be good hosts. So good that they made sure that Kenny and Fiona stayed in town long enough to attend the weekly dance at the old town barn (red of course, run down of course) that had seen such dances going back to the 1920s when the Carter Family had actually come through Pottsville on their way back to Clinch Mountain.

Kenny buckled at the thought, the mere thought, of going to some Podunk Saturday night “hoe-down” and tried to convince Fiona that they should leave before Saturday. Fiona would have none of it and so Kenny was stuck. Actually the dance started out pretty well, helped tremendously by some local “white lightning” that Stu provided and which he failed to mention should be sipped, sipped sparingly. Not only that but the several fiddles, mandolins, guitars, washboards and whatnot made pretty good music. Music like Anchored in Love and Come All You Fair And Tender Ladies, stuff that he had heard in the folk clubs in Harvard Square when he used to hang out there in the early 1960s. And music that even Kenny, old two left-feet Kenny, could dance to with Fiona.

So Kenny was sipping, well more than sipping, and dancing and all until maybe about midnight when this woman, this local woman came out of nowhere and begins to sing, sing like some quick, rushing wind sound coming down from the hills and hollas (hollows for yankees, okay). Kenny begins to toss and turn a little, not from the liquor but from some strange feeling, some strange womb-like feeling that this woman’s voice was a call from up on top of these deep green hills, now mist-filled awaiting day. And then she started into a long, mournful version of Hills of Home, and he sensed, sensed strongly if not anything he could articulate that he was home. Yes, Kenny Jackson, yankee, city boy, corner boy-bred was “home,” hillbilly home. So Kenny did really hear Hazel Dickens for first time in 1970, see.

*The Storms Are Not All On The Ocean-A Ginny Hawker/Kay Justice Tribute To The Original Carter Family

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Maybelle Carter accompanied by the New Lost City Ramblers on "The Storms Are On The Ocean" Sorry, I could find any Ginny Hawker material on YouTube.But you will agree this is not a too shabby substitute.



CD Review

Bristol-A tribute to the music of the original Carter Family , Ginny Hawker and Kay Justice, Copper Creek Records, 1999



Okay, you say, enough of the Carter Family, Enough of mountain music reviews from a guy who gets nervous when he gets even a couple of miles away from the bright lights of the big city. Well, fair enough. And under most circumstances I couldn’t agree with you more. But you see, I have just done a review of one of the singers here, Ginny Hawker, concerning her duos with old New Lost City Ramblers member Tracy Swartz. So, naturally, somebody then tells me about this CD and there you have it. So, in the end I am merely a victim of circumstances. Sounds about right, right?

But enough, let me just say that there is no shortage of those who have covered the original Carter Family material (including later combinations of Carters and Cashes), there is no shortage of wannabe Maybelle and Sara –type harmony combinations and there is no shortage of those who (now) know the importance of May belle‘s guitar work in creating the Carter Family sound. Nevertheless this pair on harmony, on the manner in which they arrange the songs selected to fit their skills and on the simple instrumentation that does not clutter up the harmonies stepped right out of the pages of Clinch Mountain. Outstanding in that regard are “Gently Lead Me”, “Waves of the Sea”, “I Never Loved But One” and the super-Carter classic “Amber Tresses”. Nicely done.




AMBER TRESSES TIED IN BLUE


The Carter Family

Far away in sunny mountains
Where the merry sunbeams play
There I wandered thru the clover
Singing to a village maid

She was dearer than the dearest
Ever loving kind and true
And she wore beneath her bonnet
Amber tresses tied in blue

Fact decreed that we be parted
Ere the leaves of autumn fell
Then two hearts were separated
That had loved each other well

She was all I had to cherish
Every loving king and true
Now I see in every vision
Amber tresses tied in blue

"The Storms Are On The Ocean"

I'm going away to leave you love
I'm going away for a while
But I'll return to see you sometime
If I go ten thousand miles

The storms are on the ocean
The heavens may cease to be
This world may lose it's motion love
If I prove false to thee

Oh who will dress your pretty little feet
And who will glove your hand
Oh who will kiss your rosy red cheeks
When I'm in a foreign land

Papa will dress my pretty little feet
And Mama will glove my hand
You may kiss my rosy red cheeks
When you return again

Have you seen those mournful doves
Flying from pine to pine
A-mournin' for their own true love
Just like I mourn for mine

I'll never go back on the ocean love
I'll never go back on the sea
I'll never go back on my blue-eyed girl
'Til she goes back on me

The Musical Voice Of The Hills And Hollows Of Coal-Mining Country, Hazel Dickens Passes At 75- Going Back To Harlan

Click on the headline to link to a The New York Times obituary, dated April 22, 2011, for legendary coal-mining, mountain, hills and hollows singer, Hazel Dickens.

Three Score And Ten- Happy Birthday Bob Dylan- The Endless Tourist

Click on the headline to link to an American Left History entry on some of birthday boy Bob Dylan’s earlier work.

Markin comment:

No question Bob Dylan, his early folk-inspired protest songs, and his persona had a great influence on me, and my generation, the generation of ’68, period. Whether he was the “voice” of our generation, or a voice is seriously open to question but what is not is his long-standing commitment to keep pushing the music envelope. And to do so relentlessly , for whatever reason, if only to keep himself from the easy old man rocking chair. His place in the music pantheon (folk, folk rock, rock, popular, country, mountain, Tin Pan Alley, whatever, he has respectable niches in each) and with many chapters in the American songbook is secure. Keep moving, brother.
*******
Line for line Desolation Row is my number one Bob Dylan song. It is the one that I sing (to myself) on those glooming days we all have. Do I know all the lines by heart from memory. No way. This is not unlike the fate of a lot of Dylan songs, as a well-know musician once reminded me. We all remember about half the verses of many Dylan songs on recall. True, brother, true.
********
Desolation Row Lyrics
Bob Dylan


They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row.

Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row.

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row.
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row.

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
You would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row.

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row.
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In a perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get outa here if you don't know"
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row.

At midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row.

Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
Everybody's shouting
"Which side are you on ?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row.
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
About the time the door knob broke
When you asked me how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke ?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Dont send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row.

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- Out In The Hills And Hollows Of Appalachia- Man Of Constant Sorrow- A CD Review

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry of the Soggy Mountain Boys performing the Appalachian classic Man Of Constant Sorrow.

CD Review

Man of Constant Sorrow (And other Timeless Mountain Ballads), various artists, Yazoo Records, 2002

Recently I did a CD review in this space of now old- time urban blues folk revival 1960s minute songs, The New City Blues, that featured songs from earlier times down in places like the country blues-rich Mississippi Delta as covered by the aspiring folk artists of that latter period. As part of that review I mentioned that my old-time yellow brick road merry prankster summer of love, 1967 version, San Francisco Great American West night friend , Peter Paul Markin, a few years older than I am, had been instrumental in “tuning” me into those classic songs and folk music in general. Having grown up in backwoods (okay, back ocean) Olde Saco up in Maine and not near any folk centers like Cambridge I was clueless back then about anything except the burgeoning psychedelic rock scene and childhood Bobby Darin/Connie Francis vanilla rock music.

That said, Peter Paul tried, tried like hell, to interest me in even earlier roots music, the music of Appalachia, the hills and hollows country, hard coal- mining and hard-scrabble farming country living off the leavings of the great trek west many years before. No sale, No sale for a long time. Then watching the George Clooney film Brother, Where Art Thou? and listening to the soundtrack from the film about a decade ago I got a little hooked. The finishing touches came when I heard some woman (later identified to me as Emmy Lou Harris) singing Come All Ye Fair And Tender Ladies on some off-hand CD someone was playing. Strangely this was a song I knew from the yellow brick road days because Peter Paul played it to me several times as sung by the late gravelly-voiced folk singer/historian Dave Von Ronk. Like I said no sale, no way, turn the damn thing off, please.

So tastes change, or develop, but that is not the important story here. The real story here is why Peter Paul was so insistent on my understanding this mountain music, of seeing why he had come to see it as important. He had resisted the draw of the hills and hollows too. He had started out musically tuned into the great rock and roll jail break-out of the mid-1950s with Elvis, Jerry Lee, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley and all the other classic (now classic) rock artists, male and female. He had no kid time for old foggy parent music like this. But that word parent is the key to why he tried to drag me in his wake. His father was from down there, down in the hills and hollows, down in coal-mining country. Down in Hazard, Kentucky a place known far and wide in song and hard fighting labor history and a place highlighted in Michael Harrington’s famous book on serious poverty places, The Other America.

This is the music that Peter Paul’s father grew up on in those lonely 1930s Saturday night whiskey-drinking (moonshine whiskey of course) back road barn dances. Or just hanging around some porch guitar, fiddle, mandolin, whatever, whiling away the hours until Sunday church and Monday back-breaking work again. So it was in his DNA, hard-wired into his DNA. That is why, I think anyway, he tried to force feed that old Dave Von Ronk cover
to me back in the day. And maybe by osmosis, or something, it finally rubbed off on me.

You should know this CD, this Man Of Constant Sorrow CD, if you are clueless about mountain music like I was, has a veritable American songbook-mountain music segment(and Harry Smith Anthology of American Folk Music songbook too) “greatest hits” contained in it. As with many oral traditions, mountain music, as it passed from generation to generation, locale to locale, got twisted around, got words added, ideas added and so on so that some of the versions here are, according to Peter Paul, different from those that he first heard. What is the same though is that the subjects, murder, mayhem, adultery, false love, lost love, very false love, abandonment, very, very false love, too much whiskey Saturday night and too little repentance Sunday morning, and, sometimes, true love get plenty of mention. Just the kind of subjects that the folk in hills and hollows (Markin said I should put in at least one hollas to show respect but what can I do) of Appalachia wanted to hear sung about. And maybe still do.

The Hills And Hollows Of “Home”- “The Hills Of Home: 25 Years Of Folk Music On Rounder Records”- A CD Review

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Hazel Dickens performing her classic hills and hollows mountain classic, The Hills Of Home.

The Hills Of Home: 25 Years Of Folk Music On Rounder Records, two CD set, various artists, Rounder Records, 1995

Rumor, family rumor anyway, has it that I was in the womb when my parents went back down south to my father’s birthplace in Kentucky, Hazard, Kentucky to be exact, a place storied in song and hard class struggle. I “rebelled” against listening to that old-time nasal drear mountain music that my father used to play back in childhood days, much preferring first be-bop, doo wop, Elvis, Jerry Lee and Chuck rock, then the blues, urban and country, and then urban-based folk music. A few years back, maybe more now, I heard some old-time sounds on the radio coming from Hazel Dickens, probably Working Girl Blues or the title cut from this CD, The Hills Of Home. And, strangely, I was “home.” Home down in the wind-swept ragged old hollows (yes, I know the correct word is hollas but what can you do), the coal-dusted hills, and the tar paper shacks that my forbears called their place in the sun.

So naturally, as is my wont when I am on to something seriously, I had to run out and buy some mountain music. And having been familiar, very familiar, with the efforts of the people at local Rounder Records to do in modern times what Charles Seeger and John and Alan Lomax did in their times-preserve the basic American songbook- I picked up this 25th anniversary compilation. Partially because it had The Hill of Home on it but also to give a good cross-section of what this “down home” music looked like to a novice, eager or not. And that is good place to end. Except to note several very good stick outs in this two CD set.

They include: Norman Blake’s Church Street Blues; Rory Block’s Joliet Bound; Mississippi John Hurts’ Worried Blues; Etta Baker’s One Dime Blues; the above-mentioned The Hill of Home by Hazel Dickens; Woodstock Mountain Revue’s Killing The Blues; and Laurie Lewis’ Who Will Watch The Home Place. Okay.

*I Feel Those Appalachian Mountain Breezes Once Again- I Hear Those Lonesome Banjos And Fiddles Calling- A CD Review

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of one of the fiddlers on the CD under review, J.P. Fraley.

CD Review

The Art Of Old-Time Mountain Music, Various Artists, Rounder Records, 2002

Over the past couple of years my interest in mountain music, the music that formed part of my parental heritage, has increased as a quick search of such entries in this space attest to. Those reviews have run the gamut from the famous, and important, work of the various Carter Family combinations (and generations) to the "discovery" by the folk revivalists of the 1960s of the likes of banjo player Roscoe Holcomb to the interest by urban folk artists of that period like the Greenbriar Boys and The New Lost City Ramblers. One of the driving forces of that simple, plain music is the banjo. Another is the fiddle. On this CD we get various combinations of both. To our benefit.

Previously, in reviewing another Rounder traditional music series CD (featuring fiddles) , in this space, I noted that I was also reviewing a tribute album celebrating the 10th Anniversary of Appleseed Records (2007), now a fixture in preserving folk and protest music. I mentioned there that certain record labels have gained a niche for themselves in music history by establishing, driving, or preserving certain traditions. That is the case here with Rounder Records who for over forty years has put together off-beat, but extremely valuable, compilations of traditional music from the shores of Cape Breton to Appalachia to Western America. This CD holds to that fine and honorably tradition.

For this CD there is also a very informative booklet (as is usual with Rounder products), also including plenty of discology-type information about each track. That leaves the final question of what is good here. This compilation, like the tradition fiddle CD is driven more by mood than anything else. The mood here, as described in the headline- mountain breezes, lonesome fiddles and slam jam banjos (and other back-up instruments, of course). And you should think of this compilation that way as well, especially as some of the pieces are very short. Here are few to feast on: Roscoe Holcombe’s Rocky Mountain, Protecting the Innocent, The House Carpenter,, Kicked up a Devil of a Row, and Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie.

******************

This version of the lyrics date back to the early 1800s.

O bury me not on the lone prairie-culled from Wikipedia

"O bury me not on the lone prairie."
These words came low and mournfully
From the pallid lips of the youth who lay
On his dying bed at the close of day.

He had wasted and pined 'til o'er his brow
Death's shades were slowly gathering now
He thought of home and loved ones nigh,
As the cowboys gathered to see him die.

"O bury me not on the lone prairie
Where coyotes howl and the wind blows free
In a narrow grave just six by three—
O bury me not on the lone prairie"

"It matters not, I've been told,
Where the body lies when the heart grows cold
Yet grant, o grant, this wish to me
O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"I've always wished to be laid when I died
In a little churchyard on the green hillside
By my father's grave, there let me be,
O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"I wish to lie where a mother's prayer
And a sister's tear will mingle there.
Where friends can come and weep o'er me.
O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"For there's another whose tears will shed.
For the one who lies in a prairie bed.
It breaks me heart to think of her now,
She has curled these locks, she has kissed this brow."

"O bury me not..." And his voice failed there.
But they took no heed to his dying prayer.
In a narrow grave, just six by three
They buried him there on the lone prairie.

And the cowboys now as they roam the plain,
For they marked the spot where his bones were lain,
Fling a handful o' roses o'er his grave
With a prayer to God his soul to save.[10]

*In The Time Of The Coming Down From The Mountains- The Legendary RCA Bristol (Tennessee) Sessions

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of The Carter Family performing Storms Are On The Ocean.

CD Review

Country Legends: The Bristol Sessions, Volume 1, RCA, 2002

The music of The Carter Family, the origin 1920s Carter Family trio, has been reviewed many times in this space and the following from an earlier entry in this space can sum up their place in the American musical pantheon:

“I have reviewed the various CDs put out by the Carter Family, that is work of the original grouping of A.P., Sara and Maybelle from the 1920’s, elsewhere in this space. Many of the thoughts expressed there apply here, as well. The recent, now somewhat eclipsed, interest in the mountain music of the 1920’s and 30’s highlighted in such films as The Song Catcher and George Clooney’s Brother, Where Art Thou, of necessity, had to create a renewed interest in the Carter Family. Why? Not taking the influence of that family’s musical shaping of mountain music is like neglecting the influence of Bob Dylan on the folk music revival of the 1960’s. I suppose it can be done but a big hole is left in the landscape.”

That said there is a genesis to their discovery and recording history, along with other mountain musician in the famous Bristol sessions under review here. RCA in the mid-1920s scoured the country looking for new voices, new roost voices to expand their recording repertoire, and sell their victrolas (phonographs). They sent agents out to the hinterlands looking for blues, mountain music, Tex-Mex and so on. The call out to the mountain folk came in Bristol, Tennessee. Many performers were recorded, some faded, some failed and some like The Carters, whistlin’ Jimmie Rodgers, and the Stoneman Family hit gold. Here is the “skinny” though; there is a reason why the three above-mentioned performers are listened to today. They stick out, way out against the other recordings here. Overall though this is a good look at what appealed to mountain folk (and 1960s folk revivalists) and what they would pay their hard scrabble, hard earned cash to listen to on those lonesome mountain wind Saturday nights along the hollows and creeks of Appalachia. A definitive piece of musical history.

Stick outs here are The Carters on Storms Are On The Ocean and Single Girl, Married Girl; Jimmy Rodger’s on The Soldier’s Sweetheart, and Blind Alfred Reed on You Must Unload.

**********

The Storms Are On The Ocean-The Carters

I'm going away to leave you love
I'm going away for a while
But I'll return to see you sometime
If I go ten thousand miles

The storms are on the ocean
The heavens may cease to be
This world may lose it's motion love
If I prove false to thee

Oh who will dress your pretty little feet
And who will glove your hand
Oh who will kiss your rosy red cheeks
When I'm in a foreign land

Papa will dress my pretty little feet
And Mama will glove my hand
You may kiss my rosy red cheeks
When you return again

Have you seen those mournful doves
Flying from pine to pine
A-mournin' for their own true love
Just like I mourn for mine

I'll never go back on the ocean love
I'll never go back on the sea
I'll never go back on my blue-eyed girl
'Til she goes back on me

*Keep On The Sunny Side- The Music Of June Carter Cash

Click on the headline to link to a "YouTube" film clip of June Carter Cash performing The Carter Family classic, "Keep On The Sunny Side."

CD Review

Keep On The Sunny Side: June Carter Cash-Her Life In Music, Legacy 2006

In other reviews of the Johnny Cash/ June Carter combination I noted that my previously mainly marginal interest in the work of Johnny Cash was partially rekindled by viewing the commercial film, “Walk The Line.” Then I reviewed some of his early Sun Record music and from there I reviewed June Carter Cash’s last CD. But the real key to my renewed interest in both musicians stemmed from watching an old black and white Pete Seeger television folk show, “Rainbow Quest” from the mid-1960s when Johnny and June showed their stuff. As a result of that experience I went back and reviewed the film “Walk The Line” and here is what I had to say, in part, there:

“I am reviewing this nicely done commercial effort to delve into parts of the lives of the legendary singers Johnny Cash and his (eventual) wife June Carter Cash (of the famous mountain music Carter Family bloodlines. Her mother was the incredible vocalist and guitarist, Maybelle Carter) in reverse order. Although I saw the this film for the first time when it was released in theaters (and have viewed it several times on DVD) several years ago I am reviewing now after having just seen the real Johnny Cash and June Carter on one of the segments of Pete Seeger’s black and white television programs from the mid-1960s, “Rainbow Quest” where they appeared. And knocked me, and I think Pete, over with their renditions of Carter Family material and information about that clan.

Okay, here is the skinny. If you want to get the glamorous, sexy romance and a fetching June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), the heartache and longing of pain in the butt Johnny Cash and the eventual joining together of two great musical talents story then this is the place to start. But, if you want the reason why this film was made in the first place, the legendary musical talent, warts and all, then watch them go through their paces along with old Pete Seeger. Both are worth the time.”

And this from that last June Carter Cash CD:

“Well, my friends, excuse this roundabout way to get to the CD under review but the points made above will stand for my thoughts on this last June Carter Cash CD. I can only add that when you listen to it you will feel the Appalachian mountain breeze, the sound from the hollows below but most of all you will hear the voice of Maybelle Carter come back to life in daughter June in 2002….”

This last says it all except that here you get June Carter Cash’s whole story, at least her whole musical story, from her childhood singing “Keep On The Sunny Side” along side other Carters through to various sister acts, solos and duets, including with Johnny Cash right until late in her career. Lots of good solid material interspersed, as usual in such compilations, with some less than memorable one. I think, however, that I like that last Carter CD better where she goes deep, deep into that mountain past. I can still feel that Appalachian mountain breeze.

********

“Keep on the sunny side”

There's a dark and a troubled side of life
There's a bright and a sunny side too
Though we meet with the darkness of strife
The sunny side we also may view

Keep on the sunny side
Always on the sunny side
Keep on the sunny side of life
It will help us every day
It will brighten up our way
If we keep on the sunny side of life

Though the storm and it's fury breaks today
Crushing hopes that we cherish so dear
The clouds and storm will in time pass away
And the sun again will shine bright and clear

(break)

Let us treat with a song of hope each day
Though the moment be cloudy or clear
Let us trust in our Saviour old ways
He will keep everyone in His care

Keep on the sunny side
Always on the sunny side
Keep on the sunny side of life
It will help us every day
It will brighten up our way
If we keep on the sunny side of life

*The Roots of Bluesgrass Back In The Day- The Bluegrass Music Of Charlie Poole, The North Carolina Ramblers, and The Highlanders

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Charlie Poole and his band performing "White House Blues"

CD Review

Charlie Poole: The North Carolina Ramblers and The Highlanders, 4 CD set, JSP Records, 2004

The roots of American folk music are not depleted by Child ballads, the blues, city or country, mountain music, cowboy songs or topical Tin Pan Alley tunes as the artist under review, Charlie Poole and his various bands, proved conclusively. Old Charlie took a little from each tradition and created some very nice sounds and arrangements that have been called the direct precursors to what we today call bluegrass music. I agree.

Some of the melodies are very familiar and repeated in various renditions on this four disc CD compilation of Charlie's "greatest hits". It is interesting to compare some different versions of the same song, like "Bill Mason", that are compiled here. While this CD is hardly strictly for the aficionado both that type of listener and novices to bluegrass music will be tapping their feet on many of the tracks on this one. Googling a list of Charlie Poole's lyrics indicated that almost all of them are contained in the songs here, in one form or another. Thus, this may be the definitive collection, although as noted by others more familiar than I with the intricacies of record production the technical quality of this compilation is uneven.


Here are the stick outs on each disc: Disc One -“Wild Horse”, “Budded Rose”, “Goodbye Booze”; Disc Two “Bill Mason”, “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”,“Blue Eyes”; Disc Three- "George Collins”, “ I Once Loved A Sailor”, “Baltimore Fire”, “Sweet Sunny South”; and, Disc Four- “Under The Double Eagle”, “San Antonio”, “If The River Was Whiskey”


Baltimore Fire

It was always through a falls by a narrow.
That I heard a cry I ever shall remember,
The fire sent and cast its burning embers
On another fated city of our land.

Fire, fire, I heard the cry
From every breeze that passes by,
All the world was one sad cry of pity
Strong men in angry praise,
Calling loud to Heaven for aid,
While the fire in ruin was laying
Fair Baltimore, the beautiful city

Amid an awful struggle of commotion,
The wind blew a gale from the ocean,
Brave firemen struggled with devotion,
But they after all proved in vain.


Bill Mason

Bill Mason was an engineer
He'd been on the road all of his life
I'll never forget the morning
He married himself a wife
Bill hadn't been married more than an hour
'Till up came a message from Kress
And ordered Bill to come down
And bring out the night express

While Maggie sat by the window
A waiting for the night express
And if she hadn't a done so
She'd have been a widow, I guess
There was some drunken rascals
That come down by the ridge
They come down by the railroad
And tore off the rail from the bridge

Well, Maggie heard them working
"I guess there's something wrong
In less than fifteen minutes
Bill's train would be along"
She couldn't come near to tell it
A mile it wouldn't've done
She just grabbed up the lantern
And made for the bridge alone

By Jove, Bill saw the signal
And stopped the night express
And found his Maggie crying
On the track in her wedding dress
Her crying and laughing for joy
Still holding on to the light
He came around the curve a-flying
Bill Mason's on time tonight


Budded Rose

Little sweetheart, we have parted
From each other we must go
Many miles may separate us
From this world and care and woe

But I treasure of the promise
That you made me in the lane
When you said we'd be together
When the roses bloom again

Now this parting gives us sorrow
Oh, it almost breaks my heart
But say, darling, will you love me
When we meet no more to part?

Down among the budded roses
I am nothing but a stem
I have parted from my darling
Never more to meet again

Will this parting be forever?
Will there be no coming day
When our hearts will be united
And all troubles pass away?

Darling, meet me up in heaven
That's my true and earnest prayer
If you loved me here on earth, dear
I am sure you'll love me there


If The River Was Whiskey

If the river was whiskey and I was a duck
I'd dive to the bottom and I'd never come up

Oh, tell me how long have I got to wait
Oh, can I get you now, must I hesitate?

If the river was whiskey and the branch was wine
You would see me in bathing just any old time

I was born in England, raised in France
I ordered a suit of clothes and they wouldn't
send the pants

I was born in Alabama, I was raised in Tennessee
If you don't like my peaches, don't shake on my tree

I looked down the road just as far as I could see
A man had my woman and the blues had me

I ain't no doctor but the doctor's son
I can do the doct'rin' till the doctor comes

Got the hesitation stockings, the hesitation shoes
Believe to my Lord I've got the hesitation blues

White House Blues

McKinley hollered, McKinley squalled
Doc said to McKinley, "I can't find that ball",
From Buffalo to Washington

Roosevelt in the White House, he's doing his best
McKinley in the graveyard, he's taking his rest
He's gone a long, long time

Hush up, little children, now don't you fret
You'll draw a pension at your papa's death
From Buffalo to Washington

Roosevelt in the White House drinking out of a silver cup
McKinley in the graveyard, he'll never wake up
He's gone a long, long time

Ain't but one thing that grieves my mind
That is to die and leave my poor wife behind
I'm gone a long, long time

Look here, little children, (don't) waste your breath
You'll draw a pension at your papa's death
From Buffalo to Washington

Standing at the station just looking at the time
See if I could run it by half past nine
From Buffalo to Washington

Came the train, she's just on time
She run a thousand miles from eight o'clock 'till nine,
From Buffalo to Washington

Yonder comes the train, she's coming down the line
Blowing in every station Mr. McKinley's a-dying
It's hard times, hard times

Look-it here you rascal, you see what you've done
You've shot my husband with that Iver-Johnson gun
Carry me back to Washington

Doc's on the horse, he tore down his rein
Said to that horse, "You've got to outrun this train"
From Buffalo to Washington

Doc come a-running, takes off his specs
Said "Mr McKinley, better pass in your checks
You're bound to die, bound to die"

*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

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"The House Carpenter" — Clarence Ashley (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

House Carpenter Lyrics

Well met, well met, my own true love
Well met, well met, cried she
I've just returned from the salt, salt sea
And it's all for the love of thee

I could have married a King's daughter there
She would have married me
But I have forsaken my King's daughter there
It's all for the love of thee

Well, if you could have married a King's daughter there
I'm sure you're the one to blame
For I am married to a house carpenter
And I'm sure he's a fine young man

Forsake, forsake your house carpenter
And come away with me
I'll take you where the green grass grows
On the shores of sunny Italy

So up she picked her babies three
And gave them kisses, one, two, three
Saying "take good care of your daddy while I'm gone
And keep him good company."

Well, they were sailin' about two weeks
I'm sure it was not three
When the younger of the girls, she came on deck
Sayin' she wants company

"Well, are you weepin' for your house and home?
Or are you weepin' for your babies three?"
"Well, I'm not weepin' for my house carpenter
I'm weepin' for my babies three."

Oh what are those hills yonder, my love
They look as white as snow
Those are the hill of heaven, my love
You and I'll never know

Oh what are those hills yonder, my love
They look as dark as night
Those are the hills of hell-fire my love
Where you and I will unite

Oh twice around went the gallant ship
I'm sure it was not three
When the ship all of a sudden, it sprung a leak
And it drifted to the bottom of the sea

Old Time Music, Indeed!-Part Three

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Maybelle Carter Performing "Cannonball Blues".

CD Review

Friends Of Old Time Music, various artists, 3CD set, Smithsonian/Folkways Recordings, 2006


This three disc compilation (including an incredibly informative booklet giving a mother lode of material, including photographs, about the how, when and why of bringing the mainly Southern, mainly rural talents to New York City in the early 1960s) will give the new generation and many older aficionados, in one place, a primer of great value. If you want to know the details of this part of the folk revival puzzle you certainly have to start here. For the beginner or the aficionado this is a worthwhile addition to the store of our common musical heritage.

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 you should be sure to listen to:

Disc Three: Jesse Fuller on “Guitar Lesson” and “Cincinnati Blues,” Maybelle Carter on “He’s Solid Gone" and “Sugar Hill," Roscoe Holcomb on “Rising Sun Blues,” Mississippi John Hurt on “Frankie And Albert,”
and The Clarence Ashley Group on “Amazing Grace”.

Note: I should mention that all five of Maybelle Carter’s tracks on this compilation have made my recommendations list. I might add that her performances here (in 1965, and accompanied by members of The New Lost City Ramblers) make me wonder out loud, very out loud, what the heck she was doing all those years as merely one member of the Carter Family trio. Off these performances I now know who held that operation together musically. Not just her well-regarded and influential country guitar work and her use of the auto harp but her finely-etched voice that comes out very nicely on something like “Bury Me Under The Weeping Willow”.


He's Solid Gone

One day I am happy
The next day I am blue
Now I’m so lonely
I don’t know what to do
He’s gone, he’s solid gone

Down here a crying cause he’s gone
Wish that I was dying cause he’s gone, he’s solid gone

Washed his jumper, starched his overalls
He caught that train they call the Cannonball
From Buffalo to Washington

Down here a crying cause he’s gone
Wish that I was dying cause he’s gone, he’s solid gone

Listen to that train
Coming down the track
Carried him away
But it ain’t going to bring him back
He’s gone, he’s solid gone

Down here a crying cause he’s gone
Wish that I was dying cause he’s gone, he’s solid gone

My baby left me
He even took my shoes
Enough to give a gal the doggone worried blues
He’s gone, he’s solid gone

Down here a crying cause he’s gone
Wish that I was dying cause he’s gone, he’s solid gone