Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Clip Of Yip Harburg's "Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?" done by Tom Waits. Wow.
Commentary
Virtually every odd ball political call- in show that I have listened to lately and virtually every other audio/visual commentary source that I have paid attention to, as well, concerning the relationship between today’s economic downturn and the Great Depression of the 1930’s has felt obliged to flesh out its analysis with a rendition of “Yip” Harburg’s Depression classic “Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?”. And, seemingly, give the economic numbers they are not wrong to do so, except that instead of Yip’s dime today it should be a dollar, although that destroys the rhythm of the piece. It seems fitting today that this space should recognize the work of Brother Harburg.
Actually, not for the first time here, the recently departed Studs Terkel should be called to account for my interest in Yip. While reading Stud’s book "The Spectator” about various cultural trends and personalities that he witnessed in his long life I noticed that one of his interviews was with Yip concerning the genesis of “Brother”. Yip gives a pretty straight forward account of how he wrote it in 1931. The only comment that I would add is that the various versions that I have heard, Bing Crosby’s being the most outstanding, tend to do it in an upbeat 1930’s Broadway show tune cadence. There is, seemingly, none of the darkness that I think that Yip was trying to get at about the plight of working people that built all the wealth, fought all the wars and then were placed on the scrap heap. I believe that I heard Dave Van Ronk do a classic raspy Von Ronk-type rendition of “Brother” long ago that caught the pathos of ex-World War I soldiers down on their uppers. I have not been able to find a copy yet.
One final point. For those who may not think they are familiar with Yip Harburg you actually do know some of his other musical work. Like “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” in “The Wizard Of Oz”. More importantly, for consideration in this space, when the anti-Soviet “red scare” of the 1950’s put the hammer down on the entertainment industry Yip was ‘blacklisted’. Yes, indeed, I knew there was something wrong with that “Rainbow” song. It was way, way too hopeful about future prospects. I guess it was true what the old McCarthyite witch hunters of the 1950’s said- there ‘really’ were ‘reds’ under every bunk bed trying to corrupt the morals of America’s youth. I’m with Yip on this one though. I’d give you a dollar anytime.
"Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," lyrics by Yip Harburg, music by Jay Gorney (1931)
They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,
When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.
They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,
Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?
Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;
Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!
Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?
Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!
Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?
The Free and Equal Blues
Written by Yip Harburg, sung by Josh White
I went down to that St. James Infirmary, and I saw some plasma there,
I ups and asks the doctor man, "Say was the donor dark or fair?"
The doctor laughed a great big laugh, and he puffed it right in my face,
He said, "A molecule is a molecule, son, and the damn thing has no race."
And that was news, yes that was news,
That was very, very, very special news.
'Cause ever since that day we’ve had those free and equal blues.
"You mean you heard that doc declare
That the plasma in that test tube there could be
White man, black man, yellow man, red?"
"That’s just what that doctor said."
The doc put down his doctor book and gave me a very scientific look
And he spoke out plain and clear and rational,
He said, "Metabolism is international."
Chorus
Then the doc rigged up his microscope with some Berlin blue blood,
And, by gosh, it was the same as Chun King, Quebechef, Chattanooga, Timbuktoo blood
Why, those men who think they’re noble
Don’t even know that the corpuscle is global
Trying to disunite us with their racial supremacy,
And flying in the face of old man chemistry,
Taking all the facts and trying to twist ëem,
But you can’t overthrow the circulatory system.
Chorus
So I stayed at that St. James Infirmary.
(I couldn’t leave that place, it was too interesting)
But I said to the doctor, "Give me some more of that scientific talk talk," and he did:
He said, "Melt yourself down into a crucible
Pour yourself out into a test tube and what have you got?
Thirty-five hundred cubic feet of gas,
The same for the upper and lower class."
Well, I let that pass . . .
"Carbon, 22 pounds, 10 ounces"
"You mean that goes for princes, dukeses and countses?"
"Whatever you are, that’s what the amounts is:
Carbon, 22 pounds, 10 ounces; iron, 57 grains."
Not enough to keep a man in chains.
"50 ounces of phosophorus, that’s whether you’re poor or prosperous."
"Say buddy, can you spare a match?"
"Sugar, 60 ordinary lumps, free and equal rations for all nations.
Then you take 20 teaspoons of sodium chloride (that’s salt), and you add 38
quarts of H2O (that’s water), mix two ounces of lime, a pinch of chloride of
potash, a drop of magnesium, a bit of sulfur, and a soupÁon of hydrochloric
acid, and you stir it all up, and what are you?"
"You’re a walking drugstore."
"It’s an international, metabolistic cartel."
And that was news, yes that was news,
So listen, you African and Indian and Mexican, Mongolian, Tyrolean and Tartar,
The doctor’s right behind the Atlantic Charter.
The doc’s behind the new brotherhood of man,
As prescribed at San Francisco and Yalta, Dumbarton Oaks, and at Potsdam:
Every man, everywhere is the same, when he’s got his skin off.
And that’s news, yes that’s news,
That’s the free and equal blues!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
*SDS 2009,This Is Not Your Parents' (Or, Ouch, Grandparents') SDS 1969
Click on title to link to Wikipedia's entry for Students For Democratic Society (SDS) of the 1960s (Old Believers).
Commentary
I have spilled plenty of ink over the past year or so discussing the ‘fresh’ breeze that has come through the political atmosphere as a result of the Obama whirlwind. I have, endlessly it seems, compared this phenomena to the one of my youth in the 1960s, the election and truncated presidency of John F. Kennedy. A large piece of that comparison has been the way that today’s youth, especially college students, have gravitated toward Obama in the hope of getting out of the abyss of the past eight years. Fair enough, for now. Although today I am older and wiser and therefore cannot join the young in their enthusiasms I will nevertheless stick to my position that I have held over this past period of seeing this political awakening as a first positive step toward an understanding for the need for socialist solutions after the Obama ship runs aground.
That said, one must recognize that today is not the 1960’s and that history does not (and as a rule should not) repeat itself. Nevertheless one organization that was pivotal in the student struggle s of the 1960’s, Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), has been resurrected over the past few years and therefore is subject to comment on as a link between the generations. Below is an article gleaned from the “Young Spartacus” pages of “Workers Vanguard”, Number 927, dated January 2, 2009 that polemicizes against today’s SDS and also provides some information about the history the 1960’s organization, its aims, achievements and failures. This article provides a good place to start a discussion about the way that socialists can tap into the political energy on today’s campuses.
As the article makes clear today’s SDS makes no pretense to be a socialist organization, has a merely marginal critique of contemporary American society and on the face of it does not rise to the level of politics that build the old SDS. Some of these shortcomings appears to be done willfully so. The earlier SDS faced that same problem, a problem that I argue today’s SDS will willy-nilly be forced to face. Either SDS will make serious anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist critiques of American society and take actions based on those understandings or fold its tent. Look, generations of political activists, young and old, have broken their teeth trying to position themselves just slightly to the left of the Democratic Party or act as an ‘outside’ pressure on that organization. The hard reality, my young friends, is that if that is to be the fate of today’s SDS then the Young Democrats can do it better, have a history of doing this kind of donkey work (no pun intended, I do not think). And have jobs to offer.
However, that is music for the future. Right now serious, mainly liberal (hey we all started out from that position back in the days), students have to develop their critiques and march to a different drummer than that of the Young Democrats. I would argue that there is plenty of room for an all-inclusive socialist student organization where individual students and organizations (including the dreaded ‘vanguard’ organizations that everyone runs in fear of) can fight for their programs and unite on individual actions that are collectively agreed upon. One of the abiding sorrows of the old “New Left”, as the struggle in SDS intensified, is that an issue that never really got fought out was building this kind of organization. Not as a pro-socialist organization, any way. Read the article and think about this a bit.
SDS Old & New
From Tepid Liberalism to Radicalism and Back Again
(Young Spartacus pages)
A “new” Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), founded in 2006, has mushroomed on campuses across the country. This heterogeneous lash-up pounded the pavement to bring out voters for the Democratic Party (see “UCLA SDS Hitches Skateboard to Obama Bandwagon,” p. 5), but it has also occupied military recruitment centers. Disdainful of “ideology” and dominated by hysterical liberal anti-Communists, the new SDS sticks together by shunning political debate in favor of “politically correct” platitudes about democracy. So, for example, SDS’s voluminous “Who We Are” statement does not take a position on a single concrete political issue (studentsforademocraticsociety.org, 2007). Veterans of the early SDS, including Bernardine Dohrn, Bill Ayers, Mark Rudd and Mike Klonsky, have rallied around the new SDS, giving talks and raising money, as well as holding their own tepid liberal protests and nostalgic conferences under the auspices of a refounded Movement for a Democratic Society.
So, what’s in a name? SDS cofounder Pat Korte explained, “The reason we chose to keep the name SDS is because it accurately describes us (we are students for a democratic society)” (“The New SDS: Towards a Radical Youth Movement,” CounterPunch, 10 July 2006). What being “for a democratic society” means in racist, capitalist America becomes clear from a look at SDSers’ activities. Having gained some experience at the business end of a nightstick, the original SDS was known for its petty-bourgeois radical “off the pig” rhetoric—but the new SDS in Boston went on hunger strike in support of security guards at Harvard! Former SDS News Bulletin coeditor and UCLA SDS honcho Dave Shukla wants to braintrust the Feds, who witchhunted the first SDS, by “developing a model for mass participation and engagement with institutional design and policy formation for each agency and program in the federal government” (“Left Forum 2008 Speaker Bio,” leftforum.org, undated). At Rutgers, SDS has taken up local New Jersey gerrymandering so “each [ward] gets to elect it’s OWN Council person to represent their neighborhood” and “the student community will get the representation it deserves” (Tent State University/Students for a Democratic Society Facebook page, undated).
The institutions of bourgeois democracy are institutions of capitalist class rule with which the bourgeoisie dupes, defrauds and represses working people and the oppressed. SDS’s pushing of “democratic models” diverts young activists into the dead end of bourgeois electoral politics. What unites the liberals in the new SDS with reformists of all varieties is the view that the capitalist system can be made to serve the interests of working people and the oppressed. As revolutionary Marxists, we seek to win youth to building a revolutionary workers party that can lead the working class in the struggle to overthrow the whole rotten capitalist system and lay the basis for an egalitarian, communist society.
Pushing the myth that communism destroyed the first SDS, the new SDS’s leadership raises the spectre of “sectarian takeovers” and “totalitarian principles” in the service of liberal anti-communism. Voicing her opposition to members of the Maoist Freedom Road Socialist Organization being in SDS, New York SDS honcho Rachel Haut told Platypus magazine: “I think it is inappropriate to have conversations about ideological differences when we still have Maoists in the organization. Why should we be having these conversations with them, including them in the discussion, if their ideology is in direct opposition to building a democratic society?” (September 2008). Who needs the House Committee on Un-American Activities when you have the new SDS! The Workers World Party, Freedom Road Socialist Organization and other reformists work in SDS anyway, but this says less about SDS’s “non-sectarianism” than about the reformists’ toothless politics. They must feel right at home with the new SDS’s parochial campus activism and Democratic Party lesser-evilism.
Forty years ago, Students for a Democratic Society played a prominent role in protests at the Chicago Democratic National Convention. The dirty, losing Vietnam War, initiated and escalated under Democratic Party presidents Kennedy and Johnson, was a burning issue. Most of the protesters in Chicago in 1968 opposed the Democratic Party as a capitalist party presiding over social injustice. As Kirkpatrick Sale described in SDS, his well-known history of the organization, SDSers rejected “as usual the idea of mass marches but [were] doubly scornful of any project mired in electoral politics.” SDSers propagandized and organized actions against the Democratic Party and raised general hell in the city. For that, they were arrested, savagely beaten, and one young man was shot to death, all under the aegis of the Democratic Party city administration of the infamous Daley machine.
Last August, the new SDS mobilized for protests at the Democratic National Convention in Denver. They did so as part of the Alliance for Real Democracy, whose stated intention was “to convince and pressure Democrats to work for just and progressive policies at home and abroad” (realdemocracy2008.org, undated).
Ostensibly more radical chapters of SDS, including the one from Grand Rapids, Michigan, stated in their call to action, “If we, as a radical movement, are going to attempt to pressure the Democratic Party candidates, the time to do so is before they are elected” (“SDS Call to Action: Disrupt the DNC,” undated). The new SDS is a far cry from the iconic New Left organization of the 1960s, but the history of the old SDS sheds light on the new one.
Heirs of Stodgy Cold Warriors
While the first SDS emerged as part of a radicalization of U.S. society, the new SDS reflects a rightward social shift in a period of little struggle. Capitalist counterrevolution in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe was a grave defeat for working people and the oppressed worldwide. It ushered in a period of bourgeois triumphalism over the “death of communism,” in which social struggle has been limited and isolated. In their works Empire and Multitude, American academic Michael Hardt and his mentor, veteran Italian New Left intellectual Antonio Negri, developed on the bourgeois idea that communism has failed—an idea also embraced by the new SDS. As our article “Empire, Multitude and the ‘Death of Communism’: The Senile Dementia of Post-Marxism,” noted:
“Claiming to update Marx, Hardt and Negri jettison the programmatic core of Marxism: proletarian revolution to overthrow the capitalist system. They dismiss the lessons distilled from the 1871 Paris Commune, the first proletarian insurrection, and the subsequent history of the revolutionary workers movement. They deride class war and proletarian power as ‘old, tired and faded’ notions….
“In the late 1930s, following the victory of fascism in Germany and the defeat of the Spanish Revolution, Marxist revolutionary Leon Trotsky observed: ‘As always during epochs of reaction and decay, quacks and charlatans appear on all sides, desirous of revising the whole course of revolutionary thought’ (Transitional Program [1938]). The triumph of capitalist counterrevolution in the Soviet Union and East Europe in the early 1990s has nurtured a new generation of ideological quacks and charlatans. Hardt and Negri peddle their ideological wares to young leftists who, having no sense of the revolutionary capacity of the proletariat, accept the subjective outlook that a new world will be won not by uprooting the material reality of oppression but by changing the ideas in people’s heads.”
—Spartacist (English-language edition) No. 59, Spring 2006
Dismissing communist revolution as a “failed experiment,” today’s SDSers are left with nothing more than the grubby politics of “lesser evil” capitalism. They are running the film of the first SDS’s radicalization in reverse.
The new SDS’s “democratic” and “anti-authoritarian” rhetoric recapitulates the Cold War anti-Communism that the first SDS broke from. SDS originated as the Student League for Industrial Democracy (SLID), the student affiliate of the League for Industrial Democracy (LID). Moribund by 1960, the LID had served as a handmaiden of the U.S. government in the left and the labor movement, peddling the virtues of “democratic,” “anti-authoritarian” capitalism. Populated by “State Department socialists” such as Norman Thomas and Michael Harrington, the LID also counted among its members the labor traitors Victor and Walter Reuther, who rode to power in the United Auto Workers by purging Communists from the union in the 1940s, and Sidney Hook, a former Communist turned “god that failed” supporter of the established order. Hook was a leading light in the Congress for Cultural Freedom—a CIA-funded operation devoted to counteracting the appeal of Communism and the Soviet Union.
Despite posturing as champions of democracy in the Cold War, the U.S. imperialists supported right-wing military dictatorships, reactionary regimes and the remnants of European colonial rule around the world. On the home front, in the American South black people faced legal segregation and were deprived of basic rights—a fact publicized by the Soviet Union. The Southern Jim Crow system was based on police/Klan terror against atomized rural sharecroppers, and it had become increasingly anachronistic as industrialization in the American South during and following World War II drew blacks into the working class. By the mid 1950s, black anger at Jim Crow segregation had given birth to the civil rights movement, shattering the climate of Cold War McCarthyism and increasingly polarizing American society.
Seeking to refurbish its image and in response to early struggles, the U.S. capitalist class made some concessions, notably in the Supreme Court ruling Brown v. Board of Education that mandated the integration of public schools. But implementation of this ruling proceeded at a snail’s pace. Young liberal activists, black and white, came forward courageously in lunch-counter sit-ins and freedom rides. Students from the North, defiant in the face of the murder of young civil rights militants, poured into the South to register black voters. In this changed climate, in January 1960 SLID changed its name to Students for a Democratic Society; its membership began to grow.
Early SDS: Confronting Cold War Anti-Communism
The Cuban Revolution coincided with the civil rights movement, reinforcing the appeal of more radical ideas among young activists. In January 1959, Castro’s rebel army overthrew the brutal, corrupt, U.S.-backed military dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista. A petty-bourgeois nationalist, Castro formed a coalition government with venal local bourgeois forces and pledged to protect their interests. However, Castro’s program of land redistribution and the measures taken against Batista’s police torturers alienated Castro’s Cuban bourgeois supporters and the U.S. imperialists, including Eisenhower’s CIA director Allen Dulles and his brother, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, both major stockholders in the United Fruit Company. Eisenhower responded with brute economic pressure to bring Castro’s regime to heel. This pushed Castro into the arms of the Soviet Union. By early 1961, the holdings of the National City Bank, United Fruit, Standard Oil, the sugar barons and the Mafia—as well as the Cuban bourgeoisie—had been expropriated, and the Cuban capitalists were either in exile or in prison.
Facing the unrelenting pressure of U.S. imperialism, the Castro government sought the protection of the Soviet Union. It was compelled under these circumstances to liquidate the bourgeoisie as a class, carrying out a social revolution. Cuba became a bureaucratically deformed workers state in which capitalism had been overthrown but political power was held by a parasitic bureaucratic caste fundamentally sharing the nationalist political program of “socialism in one country” with the Stalinist bureaucracy in the Soviet Union. In 1961, newly elected president Kennedy launched the Bay of Pigs invasion, attempting to overthrow the Cuban Revolution and establish a puppet regime. Leftist youth were inspired by the Cubans’ defense of their revolution against U.S. imperialism. However, other guerrilla insurgencies aiming to overthrow right-wing capitalist regimes in Latin America were crushed with murderous repression.
In response to the Bay of Pigs invasion, SDSers posed the question “whether our foreign policy had really changed from its old imperialist ways” (The Port Huron Statement of the Students for a Democratic Society, July 1962). Early SDSers were increasingly at odds with the Cold War-era anti-Communism of their parent organization, which they rightly saw as a loyalty oath to the powers that be. The Port Huron Statement, adopted at SDS’s June 1962 National Convention, sought “to oppose communism without contributing to the common fear of associations and public actions.” It criticized the Cold War as “not sufficient for the creation of appropriate policies with which to relate to and counter communist movements in the world” and argued that “the American military response has been more effective in deterring the growth of democracy than communism.” A delegate of the Communist Progressive Youth Organizing Committee was allowed to attend the convention as an observer.
Even these small steps away from McCarthyism were too much for the LID elders, who hauled the SDS leadership into a trial for not being anti-Communist enough, then cut all funds to SDS and changed the locks on the SDS office. After much organizational wrangling, SDS and the LID patched things up. Although moving away from the dried-up LID social democrats, SDS had not fundamentally broken from lesser-evil Democratic Party pressure politics, drawing disaffected youth back into the two-party shell game and perpetuating illusions in bourgeois democracy. In the 1964 elections, a wing of SDS campaigned to go “part of the way with LBJ,” maintaining that the Democratic Party platform was “superior to any passed by a major national party since the first New Deal” and that a victory by arch-conservative Barry Goldwater would spell disaster (Sale, SDS).
But the times, they were a-changin’. In 1964 at the University of California at Berkeley, the Free Speech Movement (FSM) broke out against the Berkeley administration’s attempts to censor political life on campus by barring reds and other civil rights activists (“outside agitators”) and restricting the activities of student organizations. Facing reprisals from both the liberal campus administration and Democratic governor Pat Brown, FSM activists defended their right to “hear any person speak in any open area of the campus at any time on any subject” (see “The Student Revolt at Berkeley,” Spartacist No. 4, May-June 1965). The FSM’s victory fueled further student radicalization across the country and undermined illusions in the good offices of campus administrations and the Democratic Party.
Meanwhile, the escalation of the imperialist war in Vietnam meant more youth were being drafted, adding a direct material interest against American imperialist aims to the moral outrage felt by student activists. In 1965, SDS initiated the first nationwide protest against the Vietnam War. To many LID liberals, protesting a war against Communism was as bad as supporting the Communists outright. Furthermore, SDS’s call for the march included no anti-Communist exclusion clause. With a rush of new members and continued radicalization, SDS would abolish its anti-Communist exclusion clause at its 1965 summer convention, and soon afterward it split from the LID entirely.
Radicalization: the Civil Rights Movement
When the civil rights movement spread to the North, fighters for black freedom confronted not Southern legal segregation, but the vicious inequality and racial oppression embedded in the American capitalist system. The struggle for fundamental change in the conditions of black life—for real equality, for jobs, decent housing and adequate schools—collided head-on with the realities of American capitalism. The Northern ghettos were exploding in protest. At the 1964 Democratic Party convention, the Johnson/Humphrey machine crushed the attempt by delegates from the anti-racist Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party to unseat the Jim Crow Mississippi delegation.
The civil rights movement was fracturing as young militants broke from the Democratic Party and the liberal pacifism exemplified by Martin Luther King Jr., who said of the Watts ghetto upheaval, “It was necessary that as powerful a police force as possible be brought in to check them” (New York Times, 16 August 1965). As we wrote in “Black Power—Class Power”:
“In contrast to the reform program of the civil rights movement, the demands of the black masses are necessarily and inherently class demands, and demands which the ruling class cannot meet…. It is this transition which is represented by the black power slogan. Its popularization represents the repudiation of tokenism, liberal tutelage, reliance on the federal government, and the non-violent philosophy of moral suasion. In this sense, therefore, black power is class power, and should be supported by all socialist forces.”
—Spartacist West No. 8, 30 September 1966, reprinted in Marxist Bulletin No. 5 (Revised), September 1978
At the same time, we warned of the “black power” slogan, in the absence of a broader class fight:
“It can be used by petty bourgeois black nationalist elements who want to slice the social cake along color rather than class lines and to promote reactionary color mysticism. More seriously, it can be degraded to mean mere support for black politicians operating within the system.”
This was a prescient warning. As struggle ebbed, such was exactly the bill of goods sold to the black masses.
Co-optation was one weapon of the racist rulers; extermination was another. The best elements of radicalized black youth drawn to the Black Panther Party faced a systematic government campaign of assassination, police provocations, frame-ups and imprisonment, including through the FBI’s notorious Counter-Intelligence Program. The Panthers’ glorification of ghetto rage and rejection of the Marxist understanding of the role of the working class left them vulnerable to state repression. In the face of this repression, the Panthers turned to the right, into the orbit of the reformist Communist Party and its lawyers, as well as of the Democratic Party. (See “Rise and Fall of the Panthers: End of the Black Power Era,” Marxist Bulletin No. 5 [Revised], September 1978.)
The Vietnam War
Today, the SDS of the second mobilization displays chauvinist support for the forces of U.S. imperialism. In a grotesque testament to “support our troops” patriotism, the Lancaster, Pennsylvania, chapter of SDS “collected and sent care packages to U.S. soldiers in Iraq and civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan. This is now going to be a monthly event…” (SDS News Bulletin No. 4, May/June 2008). The University of North Carolina-Asheville chapter set out white flags commemorating U.S. soldiers killed in Iraq together with shoes representing Iraqis killed under the American occupation (“UNCA SDS Iraq Body Count,” SDS News Bulletin No. 1, October 2007). SDS’s University of Chicago chapter has close relations with Platypus, an organization known for not opposing the occupation of Iraq (see “Platypus Group: Pseudo-Marxist, Pro-Imperialist, Academic Claptrap,” Workers Vanguard No. 908, 15 February 2008).
We stand for the military defense of the peoples of Iraq and Afghanistan against the brutal U.S. imperialist occupiers. As revolutionary Marxists, we side with oppressed countries against the predatory imperialist powers. But unlike in Iraq and Afghanistan, there was also another element at work during the Vietnam War: there was a socially progressive character to those who fought against the imperialist butchers. The heroic Vietnamese had carried out a social revolution, albeit bureaucratically deformed, overturning capitalism in the North, and they were fighting to extend this to the South. We demanded the immediate and unconditional withdrawal of U.S. forces and called for the military defense of the National Liberation Front and North Vietnamese forces, raising revolutionary slogans, including “Victory for the Vietnamese Revolution…No negotiations!” and “All Indochina must go Communist!”
As U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War escalated, draft resistance spread among militant youth and SDS members. We oppose the draft, demanding “not one man, not one penny” for the imperialist military. But in the event of a draft, as we argued in “You Will Go!”, adapted from a position paper we put forward in SDS, we oppose the voluntary purging of radicals from the army, which would only strengthen the ideological purity and political reliability of the army. Instead, we said young militants should go with the working-class and minority youth and continue their political agitation (see Spartacist No. 11, March-April 1968).
As opposition to the war grew, more and more young activists stopped chanting for “peace” and began calling for “Victory to the NLF!” As we explained in the founding document of our youth organization, Youth, Class and Party (adopted in 1971; reprinted as a pamphlet in December 1974):
“When the liberal establishment backed the imperialist adventure in Vietnam, it drove the radical student movement to the left and opened the path to revolutionary politics.
“As the Vietnam war drove the New Left away from the liberals, the New Left began to re-examine the ‘Communist bloc’ and came to identify with Stalinism in its ‘militant Third World’ form. New Lefters did not consciously identify with the legacy of Stalinism as embodied in the Soviet Union. Instead they created a false dichotomy between the conservatism and opportunism of Soviet Stalinism and the apparent militancy of ‘Third World’ Stalinist governments and leaderships like those of China, Cuba and the NLF.”
Several variants of Maoism would attract a following in SDS. One was Progressive Labor Party (PL), a left split from the pro-Moscow Communist Party. PL put forward a crude working-class line against the blatant petty-bourgeois politics of Mike Klonsky’s wing of SDS, the Revolutionary Youth Movement (RYM), which advanced a petty-bourgeois notion of sectoralist struggle, according to which the Vietnamese would fight for their liberation and independence, blacks in the U.S. for theirs, women for theirs, and so forth. By RYM’s lights, the role of revolutionary-minded students was to act as propaganda bureaus and support groups for these various “vanguards.” Ultimately, this sectoralism was just a “radical” version of standard ward-heeling-type Democratic Party constituency politics, with the working class relegated at best to another “oppressed” constituency rather than the agency for fundamental social change. Various Maoist outfits contended within and emerged from RYM, including what would become today’s Revolutionary Communist Party.
Maoism did not represent a break from Stalinist class collaboration, but rather “Khrushchevism under the gun” of U.S. imperialism. Seeking to win young radicals to a Trotskyist program, we exposed the Chinese Maoists’ repeated attempts to form a reactionary, anti-Soviet bloc with U.S. imperialism at the expense of social struggles around the world. This alliance was sealed by Mao’s 1972 meeting with U.S. war criminal Richard Nixon in Beijing as American warplanes rained death and destruction on Vietnam, and it eventually destroyed the Maoist movement for all intents and purposes within the “belly of the U.S. beast.”
As we stated in Youth, Class and Party: “Only by replacing the Stalinist parties with parties unalterably committed to internationalism can the power of the Sino-Soviet states be used to further the struggle for world socialism. Recognizing that collectivized property and economic planning constitute a major qualitative gain for the workers in the Sino-Soviet states, we unconditionally defend these property forms against imperialist attacks and capitalist encroachment.” Uniquely on the left, today we uphold the same Trotskyist program of unconditional military defense and proletarian political revolution for the remaining bureaucratically deformed workers states of China, North Korea, Vietnam and Cuba.
Student Radicals in Search of Revolutionary Program
By the end of the spring of 1968, universities had been shut down and reopened, administration buildings occupied and then abandoned. This did not stop the Vietnam War—the government escalated troop deployments to Vietnam. Radical youth within SDS were becoming increasingly restive with student-centered politics. Clearly, there was a limit to “student power.” The question was posed: if not students, then what force could bring social change? The French general strike of May 1968 gave an answer. This incipient workers revolution in France exposed the charlatanry of an earlier generation of “post-Marxist” ideologues such as Herbert Marcuse, who had written off the revolutionary potential of the working class. May ’68 forced the New Left to confront the key question of class, laying the basis for new layers of youth to be won to revolutionary Marxism.
SDS’s rejection of the “Old Left” was in large measure a response to the boring reformist politics of the Stalinist Communist Party, which had been deeply ensconced in Democratic Party politics for decades and whose idea of black struggle was to follow the lead of the “respectable,” religious black leaders. The most widely known self-styled Trotskyist organization at the time, the Socialist Workers Party (SWP), was moving rapidly to the right when our founding cadres were expelled as a left-wing opposition in 1963-64. The SWP and its National Peace Action Coalition (NPAC) gave Trotskyism a bad name as they promoted “peaceful, legal” single-issue antiwar peace crawls in order to make a reformist alliance with the defeatist wing of the U.S. bourgeoisie and social-democratic trade-union bureaucrats. The SWP’s alliance with liberal imperialists was sealed in blood when Spartacist supporters along with PLers and SDSers were beaten and expelled from a 1971 NPAC conference for protesting the presence of ruling-class politician Vance Hartke on the platform. (See “The Vietnam Antiwar Movement and the National Peace Action Coalition,” WV No. 920, 12 September 2008).
Our Trotskyist program won a hearing within SDS, and the forebear of today’s Spartacus Youth Clubs was founded as the Revolutionary Marxist Caucus (RMC) in SDS in early 1970. The RMC sought to win radical-minded students to a revolutionary, internationalist and proletarian communist program. This included fighting for an understanding of the lessons of the Russian Revolution of 1917, the world’s first successful workers revolution, which pulled Russia out of the bloody slaughter of World War I, expropriated the capitalist class, and placed Russia’s economy under the control of democratic workers rule through soviets (workers councils). The RMC also sought to lay out Trotsky’s understanding of the material roots of the bureaucratic degeneration of the Russian Revolution (see our pamphlet, The Stalin School of Falsification Revisited).
In the summer of 1969 at the SDS National Convention in Chicago, facing the prospect of Progressive Labor’s positions gaining a majority, a clique within the SDS National Collective (NC), including Bernardine Dohrn and Mike Klonsky, engineered a split, lining up Black Panthers and others to race-bait PL supporters. When PL refused to take the bait, the NC splitters led their followers out of the conference. We remained with the PL-led Worker-Student Alliance (WSA) wing of SDS, based on its orientation, however crude, to the proletariat. But while PL correctly opposed the RYM splitters’ sectoralism, it also advanced (as it continues to do) a line of indifference toward special oppression, for example, racial and sexual oppression. We fought for a proletarian orientation on this question—we issued position papers within SDS, arguing for a Leninist vanguard party to bring the power of the working class to bear in the interests of all the oppressed (see “‘Racial Oppression and Working-Class Politics’,” WV No. 897, 31 August 2007, and “‘The Fight for Women’s Liberation’,” WV No. 910, 14 March 2008).
PL was vulnerable to our Trotskyist criticism, but ultimately they clung to their reformist “minimum/maximum program,” combining “communist” rhetoric with reformist practice. We warned: “By attempting to build on social guilt, moralism, and empiricism, the three most obnoxious and defective characteristics of the American left, PL creates the conditions for its own defeat and the continuous splits to the right…. Without a clearly reasoned theoretical explanation for its break with Stalinist theory, without an institution of real inner party democracy, and without a transitional program which bridges the gap between ‘rubber mats’ [PL’s concrete demands for workers struggle on campus were usually grotesquely minimal] and the dictatorship of the proletariat, PL is bound to create within itself right wing splits and transmit the same process to SDS” (“Final SDS Convention?”, Revolutionary Marxist Caucus Newsletter No. 6, March 1971). Indeed, PL eventually “led” its WSA-SDS in retreat into outright liberal idealism, campus parochialism and ordinary reformism.
Terrorism and Communism
As we wrote in Youth, Class and Party:
“The break-up of the New Left, most evident in the 1969 SDS split, was caused by the inadequacy of New Left politics in the face of the general social crisis of the late ’60’s. With the collapse of the traditional New Left, there remained three general political tendencies on the left. One is an attempt to re-establish the ties between the left and the liberal political establishment, now possible because of the deep split in the ruling class over the Vietnam war. The second is a policy of confrontation with the armed forces of the state and terrorism practiced in the name of Third World nationalism. The third tendency is that of proletarian socialism of which the Revolutionary Communist Youth is an important element.”
Lacking a proletarian strategy, and desperate to do something, some in the RYM wing ended up in the Weather Underground. The Weathermen would conduct acts of individual terror that were self-defeating and, more times than not, far more dangerous to themselves than to the bourgeoisie. Such a program was no break from liberalism, but in fact a logical conclusion, in extremis, of the liberal program of bearing “moral witness” to the government’s crimes. The Weathermen’s strategy was futile; at the same time, their targets were representatives of imperialism and capitalist oppression. As comrade Trotsky wrote of a German youth who had assassinated a Nazi:
“We Marxists consider the tactic of individual terror inexpedient in the tasks of the liberating struggle of the proletariat as well as oppressed nationalities. A single isolated hero cannot replace the masses. But we understand only too clearly the inevitability of such convulsive acts of despair and vengeance. All our emotions, all our sympathies are with the self-sacrificing avengers even though they have been unable to discover the correct road.”
—“For Grynszpan: Against Fascist Pogrom Gangs and Stalinist Scoundrels,” February 1939
While politically in opposition to the Weathermen, we fought for their defense, insisting that they were “an integral part of the radical movement.” We wrote:
“The real crime vis-a-vis terror politics and heroic individualism is that it allows the revolutionary energies of some of the movement’s most talented, dedicated people to be channeled into futile and self-destructive actions. It is our job to seek to redirect these energies into genuinely revolutionary directions.”
—“Terrorism and Communism,” Spartacist (English-language edition) No. 17-18, August-September 1970
Other so-called “socialists” refused to defend the Weathermen and often even joined the witchhunting chorus against them. The Communist Party and Socialist Workers Party both denounced this small, isolated, and persecuted outfit of misguided radical youth. For its part, PL branded the Weathermen “police agents.”
Although the new SDS is divided over whether the Weathermen were heroic, criminal or simply irrelevant, the Weathermen’s politics have a pale echo in the new SDS’s “acts of resistance” which, even at their most militant, lack both the social power and political program required to challenge the class rule of the capitalists. Like much of the “anti-globalization” movement, these protests are based on “the dangerously false idea that the capitalist U.S. is or could be pressured into being a democracy ‘for the people’ if only the anti-globalization youth were determined or creative enough to make the rulers pay attention…. Lacking a perspective of mobilizing the working class against the rule of capital, such confrontations with the cops amount to the streetfighting face of reformism” (“What Strategy to Defeat Imperialism?” WV No. 817, 9 January 2004).
In the Pacific Northwest, SDSers and others have repeatedly blocked military convoys, delaying shipments of war materiel to Iraq. These courageous protesters have been arrested, beaten and pepper-sprayed, but they lack the social power and political program needed to stop the U.S. imperialists’ overwhelming military might. Despite our vast political differences, we revolutionary Marxist youth defend SDS when it runs afoul of the state (see “UCLA: 16 Arrested at SDS/SWF Protest—Drop the Charges! For Free, Quality, Integrated Education for All!” WV No. 918, 1 August 2008, and “Drop Charges Against Evergreen 6! Reinstate Olympia SDS!” WV No. 914, 9 May 2008).
SDS Today: Second Time Farce…
Once the U.S. had been defeated on the battlefield in Vietnam and mass protests had ended, many former SDSers reconciled themselves to the capitalist system. Tom Hayden, for example, went on to become a well-known California Democrat and state senator. Many other leading lights from the “generation of ’68” went to work for Democratic Party mayors who oversee the oppression of the working class and oppressed in major urban centers. Former radicals also people the union bureaucracies and liberal civil liberties outfits, as well as the Democratic Party itself. Most recently, Tom Hayden, Carl Davidson and others got involved in Barack Obama’s presidential campaign. Obama, having been vetted and approved by the ruling class, is about to assume the role of overseer of the whole plantation.
The Republicans had attempted to make electoral hay out of Obama’s acquaintance with former Weather Underground member Bill Ayers, a luminary for many new SDSers. Chicago machine Democrat and mayor Richard M. Daley (whose father unleashed the police on the ’68 protests) testified to Ayers’ “rehabilitation”: “This is 2008, people make mistakes. You judge a person by his whole life” (New York Times, 4 October 2008). It is also the case that a section of the ruling class will never forgive the likes of Ayers and Dohrn, no matter how “rehabilitated” they are by other sections of the bourgeoisie with whom they have made their peace. Even more vicious has been the continuing racist persecution of former Panthers, not least Mumia Abu-Jamal, America’s foremost death row political prisoner (see “D.A. Petitions Supreme Court to Reinstate Death Penalty,” p. 2). The racist rulers have long memories. Believe it: they seek to stamp out even the hint of the militant challenge, however politically flawed, which faced them during the social explosions in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Our model is not the confused, eclectic radicalism of the 1960s and early 1970s but rather the Bolsheviks who led the 1917 Russian Revolution. Alienated radical students have no social power per se; they can, however, be won to the fight for a revolutionary workers party, one that struggles for the political independence of the working class from all bourgeois parties and for workers’ state power. Today the fight for revolutionary consciousness is surely an uphill battle, but a necessary one. There is a massive gulf between this understanding and that of the liberal politics, including their more “militant” face, of the present SDS.
Commentary
I have spilled plenty of ink over the past year or so discussing the ‘fresh’ breeze that has come through the political atmosphere as a result of the Obama whirlwind. I have, endlessly it seems, compared this phenomena to the one of my youth in the 1960s, the election and truncated presidency of John F. Kennedy. A large piece of that comparison has been the way that today’s youth, especially college students, have gravitated toward Obama in the hope of getting out of the abyss of the past eight years. Fair enough, for now. Although today I am older and wiser and therefore cannot join the young in their enthusiasms I will nevertheless stick to my position that I have held over this past period of seeing this political awakening as a first positive step toward an understanding for the need for socialist solutions after the Obama ship runs aground.
That said, one must recognize that today is not the 1960’s and that history does not (and as a rule should not) repeat itself. Nevertheless one organization that was pivotal in the student struggle s of the 1960’s, Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), has been resurrected over the past few years and therefore is subject to comment on as a link between the generations. Below is an article gleaned from the “Young Spartacus” pages of “Workers Vanguard”, Number 927, dated January 2, 2009 that polemicizes against today’s SDS and also provides some information about the history the 1960’s organization, its aims, achievements and failures. This article provides a good place to start a discussion about the way that socialists can tap into the political energy on today’s campuses.
As the article makes clear today’s SDS makes no pretense to be a socialist organization, has a merely marginal critique of contemporary American society and on the face of it does not rise to the level of politics that build the old SDS. Some of these shortcomings appears to be done willfully so. The earlier SDS faced that same problem, a problem that I argue today’s SDS will willy-nilly be forced to face. Either SDS will make serious anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist critiques of American society and take actions based on those understandings or fold its tent. Look, generations of political activists, young and old, have broken their teeth trying to position themselves just slightly to the left of the Democratic Party or act as an ‘outside’ pressure on that organization. The hard reality, my young friends, is that if that is to be the fate of today’s SDS then the Young Democrats can do it better, have a history of doing this kind of donkey work (no pun intended, I do not think). And have jobs to offer.
However, that is music for the future. Right now serious, mainly liberal (hey we all started out from that position back in the days), students have to develop their critiques and march to a different drummer than that of the Young Democrats. I would argue that there is plenty of room for an all-inclusive socialist student organization where individual students and organizations (including the dreaded ‘vanguard’ organizations that everyone runs in fear of) can fight for their programs and unite on individual actions that are collectively agreed upon. One of the abiding sorrows of the old “New Left”, as the struggle in SDS intensified, is that an issue that never really got fought out was building this kind of organization. Not as a pro-socialist organization, any way. Read the article and think about this a bit.
SDS Old & New
From Tepid Liberalism to Radicalism and Back Again
(Young Spartacus pages)
A “new” Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), founded in 2006, has mushroomed on campuses across the country. This heterogeneous lash-up pounded the pavement to bring out voters for the Democratic Party (see “UCLA SDS Hitches Skateboard to Obama Bandwagon,” p. 5), but it has also occupied military recruitment centers. Disdainful of “ideology” and dominated by hysterical liberal anti-Communists, the new SDS sticks together by shunning political debate in favor of “politically correct” platitudes about democracy. So, for example, SDS’s voluminous “Who We Are” statement does not take a position on a single concrete political issue (studentsforademocraticsociety.org, 2007). Veterans of the early SDS, including Bernardine Dohrn, Bill Ayers, Mark Rudd and Mike Klonsky, have rallied around the new SDS, giving talks and raising money, as well as holding their own tepid liberal protests and nostalgic conferences under the auspices of a refounded Movement for a Democratic Society.
So, what’s in a name? SDS cofounder Pat Korte explained, “The reason we chose to keep the name SDS is because it accurately describes us (we are students for a democratic society)” (“The New SDS: Towards a Radical Youth Movement,” CounterPunch, 10 July 2006). What being “for a democratic society” means in racist, capitalist America becomes clear from a look at SDSers’ activities. Having gained some experience at the business end of a nightstick, the original SDS was known for its petty-bourgeois radical “off the pig” rhetoric—but the new SDS in Boston went on hunger strike in support of security guards at Harvard! Former SDS News Bulletin coeditor and UCLA SDS honcho Dave Shukla wants to braintrust the Feds, who witchhunted the first SDS, by “developing a model for mass participation and engagement with institutional design and policy formation for each agency and program in the federal government” (“Left Forum 2008 Speaker Bio,” leftforum.org, undated). At Rutgers, SDS has taken up local New Jersey gerrymandering so “each [ward] gets to elect it’s OWN Council person to represent their neighborhood” and “the student community will get the representation it deserves” (Tent State University/Students for a Democratic Society Facebook page, undated).
The institutions of bourgeois democracy are institutions of capitalist class rule with which the bourgeoisie dupes, defrauds and represses working people and the oppressed. SDS’s pushing of “democratic models” diverts young activists into the dead end of bourgeois electoral politics. What unites the liberals in the new SDS with reformists of all varieties is the view that the capitalist system can be made to serve the interests of working people and the oppressed. As revolutionary Marxists, we seek to win youth to building a revolutionary workers party that can lead the working class in the struggle to overthrow the whole rotten capitalist system and lay the basis for an egalitarian, communist society.
Pushing the myth that communism destroyed the first SDS, the new SDS’s leadership raises the spectre of “sectarian takeovers” and “totalitarian principles” in the service of liberal anti-communism. Voicing her opposition to members of the Maoist Freedom Road Socialist Organization being in SDS, New York SDS honcho Rachel Haut told Platypus magazine: “I think it is inappropriate to have conversations about ideological differences when we still have Maoists in the organization. Why should we be having these conversations with them, including them in the discussion, if their ideology is in direct opposition to building a democratic society?” (September 2008). Who needs the House Committee on Un-American Activities when you have the new SDS! The Workers World Party, Freedom Road Socialist Organization and other reformists work in SDS anyway, but this says less about SDS’s “non-sectarianism” than about the reformists’ toothless politics. They must feel right at home with the new SDS’s parochial campus activism and Democratic Party lesser-evilism.
Forty years ago, Students for a Democratic Society played a prominent role in protests at the Chicago Democratic National Convention. The dirty, losing Vietnam War, initiated and escalated under Democratic Party presidents Kennedy and Johnson, was a burning issue. Most of the protesters in Chicago in 1968 opposed the Democratic Party as a capitalist party presiding over social injustice. As Kirkpatrick Sale described in SDS, his well-known history of the organization, SDSers rejected “as usual the idea of mass marches but [were] doubly scornful of any project mired in electoral politics.” SDSers propagandized and organized actions against the Democratic Party and raised general hell in the city. For that, they were arrested, savagely beaten, and one young man was shot to death, all under the aegis of the Democratic Party city administration of the infamous Daley machine.
Last August, the new SDS mobilized for protests at the Democratic National Convention in Denver. They did so as part of the Alliance for Real Democracy, whose stated intention was “to convince and pressure Democrats to work for just and progressive policies at home and abroad” (realdemocracy2008.org, undated).
Ostensibly more radical chapters of SDS, including the one from Grand Rapids, Michigan, stated in their call to action, “If we, as a radical movement, are going to attempt to pressure the Democratic Party candidates, the time to do so is before they are elected” (“SDS Call to Action: Disrupt the DNC,” undated). The new SDS is a far cry from the iconic New Left organization of the 1960s, but the history of the old SDS sheds light on the new one.
Heirs of Stodgy Cold Warriors
While the first SDS emerged as part of a radicalization of U.S. society, the new SDS reflects a rightward social shift in a period of little struggle. Capitalist counterrevolution in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe was a grave defeat for working people and the oppressed worldwide. It ushered in a period of bourgeois triumphalism over the “death of communism,” in which social struggle has been limited and isolated. In their works Empire and Multitude, American academic Michael Hardt and his mentor, veteran Italian New Left intellectual Antonio Negri, developed on the bourgeois idea that communism has failed—an idea also embraced by the new SDS. As our article “Empire, Multitude and the ‘Death of Communism’: The Senile Dementia of Post-Marxism,” noted:
“Claiming to update Marx, Hardt and Negri jettison the programmatic core of Marxism: proletarian revolution to overthrow the capitalist system. They dismiss the lessons distilled from the 1871 Paris Commune, the first proletarian insurrection, and the subsequent history of the revolutionary workers movement. They deride class war and proletarian power as ‘old, tired and faded’ notions….
“In the late 1930s, following the victory of fascism in Germany and the defeat of the Spanish Revolution, Marxist revolutionary Leon Trotsky observed: ‘As always during epochs of reaction and decay, quacks and charlatans appear on all sides, desirous of revising the whole course of revolutionary thought’ (Transitional Program [1938]). The triumph of capitalist counterrevolution in the Soviet Union and East Europe in the early 1990s has nurtured a new generation of ideological quacks and charlatans. Hardt and Negri peddle their ideological wares to young leftists who, having no sense of the revolutionary capacity of the proletariat, accept the subjective outlook that a new world will be won not by uprooting the material reality of oppression but by changing the ideas in people’s heads.”
—Spartacist (English-language edition) No. 59, Spring 2006
Dismissing communist revolution as a “failed experiment,” today’s SDSers are left with nothing more than the grubby politics of “lesser evil” capitalism. They are running the film of the first SDS’s radicalization in reverse.
The new SDS’s “democratic” and “anti-authoritarian” rhetoric recapitulates the Cold War anti-Communism that the first SDS broke from. SDS originated as the Student League for Industrial Democracy (SLID), the student affiliate of the League for Industrial Democracy (LID). Moribund by 1960, the LID had served as a handmaiden of the U.S. government in the left and the labor movement, peddling the virtues of “democratic,” “anti-authoritarian” capitalism. Populated by “State Department socialists” such as Norman Thomas and Michael Harrington, the LID also counted among its members the labor traitors Victor and Walter Reuther, who rode to power in the United Auto Workers by purging Communists from the union in the 1940s, and Sidney Hook, a former Communist turned “god that failed” supporter of the established order. Hook was a leading light in the Congress for Cultural Freedom—a CIA-funded operation devoted to counteracting the appeal of Communism and the Soviet Union.
Despite posturing as champions of democracy in the Cold War, the U.S. imperialists supported right-wing military dictatorships, reactionary regimes and the remnants of European colonial rule around the world. On the home front, in the American South black people faced legal segregation and were deprived of basic rights—a fact publicized by the Soviet Union. The Southern Jim Crow system was based on police/Klan terror against atomized rural sharecroppers, and it had become increasingly anachronistic as industrialization in the American South during and following World War II drew blacks into the working class. By the mid 1950s, black anger at Jim Crow segregation had given birth to the civil rights movement, shattering the climate of Cold War McCarthyism and increasingly polarizing American society.
Seeking to refurbish its image and in response to early struggles, the U.S. capitalist class made some concessions, notably in the Supreme Court ruling Brown v. Board of Education that mandated the integration of public schools. But implementation of this ruling proceeded at a snail’s pace. Young liberal activists, black and white, came forward courageously in lunch-counter sit-ins and freedom rides. Students from the North, defiant in the face of the murder of young civil rights militants, poured into the South to register black voters. In this changed climate, in January 1960 SLID changed its name to Students for a Democratic Society; its membership began to grow.
Early SDS: Confronting Cold War Anti-Communism
The Cuban Revolution coincided with the civil rights movement, reinforcing the appeal of more radical ideas among young activists. In January 1959, Castro’s rebel army overthrew the brutal, corrupt, U.S.-backed military dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista. A petty-bourgeois nationalist, Castro formed a coalition government with venal local bourgeois forces and pledged to protect their interests. However, Castro’s program of land redistribution and the measures taken against Batista’s police torturers alienated Castro’s Cuban bourgeois supporters and the U.S. imperialists, including Eisenhower’s CIA director Allen Dulles and his brother, Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, both major stockholders in the United Fruit Company. Eisenhower responded with brute economic pressure to bring Castro’s regime to heel. This pushed Castro into the arms of the Soviet Union. By early 1961, the holdings of the National City Bank, United Fruit, Standard Oil, the sugar barons and the Mafia—as well as the Cuban bourgeoisie—had been expropriated, and the Cuban capitalists were either in exile or in prison.
Facing the unrelenting pressure of U.S. imperialism, the Castro government sought the protection of the Soviet Union. It was compelled under these circumstances to liquidate the bourgeoisie as a class, carrying out a social revolution. Cuba became a bureaucratically deformed workers state in which capitalism had been overthrown but political power was held by a parasitic bureaucratic caste fundamentally sharing the nationalist political program of “socialism in one country” with the Stalinist bureaucracy in the Soviet Union. In 1961, newly elected president Kennedy launched the Bay of Pigs invasion, attempting to overthrow the Cuban Revolution and establish a puppet regime. Leftist youth were inspired by the Cubans’ defense of their revolution against U.S. imperialism. However, other guerrilla insurgencies aiming to overthrow right-wing capitalist regimes in Latin America were crushed with murderous repression.
In response to the Bay of Pigs invasion, SDSers posed the question “whether our foreign policy had really changed from its old imperialist ways” (The Port Huron Statement of the Students for a Democratic Society, July 1962). Early SDSers were increasingly at odds with the Cold War-era anti-Communism of their parent organization, which they rightly saw as a loyalty oath to the powers that be. The Port Huron Statement, adopted at SDS’s June 1962 National Convention, sought “to oppose communism without contributing to the common fear of associations and public actions.” It criticized the Cold War as “not sufficient for the creation of appropriate policies with which to relate to and counter communist movements in the world” and argued that “the American military response has been more effective in deterring the growth of democracy than communism.” A delegate of the Communist Progressive Youth Organizing Committee was allowed to attend the convention as an observer.
Even these small steps away from McCarthyism were too much for the LID elders, who hauled the SDS leadership into a trial for not being anti-Communist enough, then cut all funds to SDS and changed the locks on the SDS office. After much organizational wrangling, SDS and the LID patched things up. Although moving away from the dried-up LID social democrats, SDS had not fundamentally broken from lesser-evil Democratic Party pressure politics, drawing disaffected youth back into the two-party shell game and perpetuating illusions in bourgeois democracy. In the 1964 elections, a wing of SDS campaigned to go “part of the way with LBJ,” maintaining that the Democratic Party platform was “superior to any passed by a major national party since the first New Deal” and that a victory by arch-conservative Barry Goldwater would spell disaster (Sale, SDS).
But the times, they were a-changin’. In 1964 at the University of California at Berkeley, the Free Speech Movement (FSM) broke out against the Berkeley administration’s attempts to censor political life on campus by barring reds and other civil rights activists (“outside agitators”) and restricting the activities of student organizations. Facing reprisals from both the liberal campus administration and Democratic governor Pat Brown, FSM activists defended their right to “hear any person speak in any open area of the campus at any time on any subject” (see “The Student Revolt at Berkeley,” Spartacist No. 4, May-June 1965). The FSM’s victory fueled further student radicalization across the country and undermined illusions in the good offices of campus administrations and the Democratic Party.
Meanwhile, the escalation of the imperialist war in Vietnam meant more youth were being drafted, adding a direct material interest against American imperialist aims to the moral outrage felt by student activists. In 1965, SDS initiated the first nationwide protest against the Vietnam War. To many LID liberals, protesting a war against Communism was as bad as supporting the Communists outright. Furthermore, SDS’s call for the march included no anti-Communist exclusion clause. With a rush of new members and continued radicalization, SDS would abolish its anti-Communist exclusion clause at its 1965 summer convention, and soon afterward it split from the LID entirely.
Radicalization: the Civil Rights Movement
When the civil rights movement spread to the North, fighters for black freedom confronted not Southern legal segregation, but the vicious inequality and racial oppression embedded in the American capitalist system. The struggle for fundamental change in the conditions of black life—for real equality, for jobs, decent housing and adequate schools—collided head-on with the realities of American capitalism. The Northern ghettos were exploding in protest. At the 1964 Democratic Party convention, the Johnson/Humphrey machine crushed the attempt by delegates from the anti-racist Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party to unseat the Jim Crow Mississippi delegation.
The civil rights movement was fracturing as young militants broke from the Democratic Party and the liberal pacifism exemplified by Martin Luther King Jr., who said of the Watts ghetto upheaval, “It was necessary that as powerful a police force as possible be brought in to check them” (New York Times, 16 August 1965). As we wrote in “Black Power—Class Power”:
“In contrast to the reform program of the civil rights movement, the demands of the black masses are necessarily and inherently class demands, and demands which the ruling class cannot meet…. It is this transition which is represented by the black power slogan. Its popularization represents the repudiation of tokenism, liberal tutelage, reliance on the federal government, and the non-violent philosophy of moral suasion. In this sense, therefore, black power is class power, and should be supported by all socialist forces.”
—Spartacist West No. 8, 30 September 1966, reprinted in Marxist Bulletin No. 5 (Revised), September 1978
At the same time, we warned of the “black power” slogan, in the absence of a broader class fight:
“It can be used by petty bourgeois black nationalist elements who want to slice the social cake along color rather than class lines and to promote reactionary color mysticism. More seriously, it can be degraded to mean mere support for black politicians operating within the system.”
This was a prescient warning. As struggle ebbed, such was exactly the bill of goods sold to the black masses.
Co-optation was one weapon of the racist rulers; extermination was another. The best elements of radicalized black youth drawn to the Black Panther Party faced a systematic government campaign of assassination, police provocations, frame-ups and imprisonment, including through the FBI’s notorious Counter-Intelligence Program. The Panthers’ glorification of ghetto rage and rejection of the Marxist understanding of the role of the working class left them vulnerable to state repression. In the face of this repression, the Panthers turned to the right, into the orbit of the reformist Communist Party and its lawyers, as well as of the Democratic Party. (See “Rise and Fall of the Panthers: End of the Black Power Era,” Marxist Bulletin No. 5 [Revised], September 1978.)
The Vietnam War
Today, the SDS of the second mobilization displays chauvinist support for the forces of U.S. imperialism. In a grotesque testament to “support our troops” patriotism, the Lancaster, Pennsylvania, chapter of SDS “collected and sent care packages to U.S. soldiers in Iraq and civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan. This is now going to be a monthly event…” (SDS News Bulletin No. 4, May/June 2008). The University of North Carolina-Asheville chapter set out white flags commemorating U.S. soldiers killed in Iraq together with shoes representing Iraqis killed under the American occupation (“UNCA SDS Iraq Body Count,” SDS News Bulletin No. 1, October 2007). SDS’s University of Chicago chapter has close relations with Platypus, an organization known for not opposing the occupation of Iraq (see “Platypus Group: Pseudo-Marxist, Pro-Imperialist, Academic Claptrap,” Workers Vanguard No. 908, 15 February 2008).
We stand for the military defense of the peoples of Iraq and Afghanistan against the brutal U.S. imperialist occupiers. As revolutionary Marxists, we side with oppressed countries against the predatory imperialist powers. But unlike in Iraq and Afghanistan, there was also another element at work during the Vietnam War: there was a socially progressive character to those who fought against the imperialist butchers. The heroic Vietnamese had carried out a social revolution, albeit bureaucratically deformed, overturning capitalism in the North, and they were fighting to extend this to the South. We demanded the immediate and unconditional withdrawal of U.S. forces and called for the military defense of the National Liberation Front and North Vietnamese forces, raising revolutionary slogans, including “Victory for the Vietnamese Revolution…No negotiations!” and “All Indochina must go Communist!”
As U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War escalated, draft resistance spread among militant youth and SDS members. We oppose the draft, demanding “not one man, not one penny” for the imperialist military. But in the event of a draft, as we argued in “You Will Go!”, adapted from a position paper we put forward in SDS, we oppose the voluntary purging of radicals from the army, which would only strengthen the ideological purity and political reliability of the army. Instead, we said young militants should go with the working-class and minority youth and continue their political agitation (see Spartacist No. 11, March-April 1968).
As opposition to the war grew, more and more young activists stopped chanting for “peace” and began calling for “Victory to the NLF!” As we explained in the founding document of our youth organization, Youth, Class and Party (adopted in 1971; reprinted as a pamphlet in December 1974):
“When the liberal establishment backed the imperialist adventure in Vietnam, it drove the radical student movement to the left and opened the path to revolutionary politics.
“As the Vietnam war drove the New Left away from the liberals, the New Left began to re-examine the ‘Communist bloc’ and came to identify with Stalinism in its ‘militant Third World’ form. New Lefters did not consciously identify with the legacy of Stalinism as embodied in the Soviet Union. Instead they created a false dichotomy between the conservatism and opportunism of Soviet Stalinism and the apparent militancy of ‘Third World’ Stalinist governments and leaderships like those of China, Cuba and the NLF.”
Several variants of Maoism would attract a following in SDS. One was Progressive Labor Party (PL), a left split from the pro-Moscow Communist Party. PL put forward a crude working-class line against the blatant petty-bourgeois politics of Mike Klonsky’s wing of SDS, the Revolutionary Youth Movement (RYM), which advanced a petty-bourgeois notion of sectoralist struggle, according to which the Vietnamese would fight for their liberation and independence, blacks in the U.S. for theirs, women for theirs, and so forth. By RYM’s lights, the role of revolutionary-minded students was to act as propaganda bureaus and support groups for these various “vanguards.” Ultimately, this sectoralism was just a “radical” version of standard ward-heeling-type Democratic Party constituency politics, with the working class relegated at best to another “oppressed” constituency rather than the agency for fundamental social change. Various Maoist outfits contended within and emerged from RYM, including what would become today’s Revolutionary Communist Party.
Maoism did not represent a break from Stalinist class collaboration, but rather “Khrushchevism under the gun” of U.S. imperialism. Seeking to win young radicals to a Trotskyist program, we exposed the Chinese Maoists’ repeated attempts to form a reactionary, anti-Soviet bloc with U.S. imperialism at the expense of social struggles around the world. This alliance was sealed by Mao’s 1972 meeting with U.S. war criminal Richard Nixon in Beijing as American warplanes rained death and destruction on Vietnam, and it eventually destroyed the Maoist movement for all intents and purposes within the “belly of the U.S. beast.”
As we stated in Youth, Class and Party: “Only by replacing the Stalinist parties with parties unalterably committed to internationalism can the power of the Sino-Soviet states be used to further the struggle for world socialism. Recognizing that collectivized property and economic planning constitute a major qualitative gain for the workers in the Sino-Soviet states, we unconditionally defend these property forms against imperialist attacks and capitalist encroachment.” Uniquely on the left, today we uphold the same Trotskyist program of unconditional military defense and proletarian political revolution for the remaining bureaucratically deformed workers states of China, North Korea, Vietnam and Cuba.
Student Radicals in Search of Revolutionary Program
By the end of the spring of 1968, universities had been shut down and reopened, administration buildings occupied and then abandoned. This did not stop the Vietnam War—the government escalated troop deployments to Vietnam. Radical youth within SDS were becoming increasingly restive with student-centered politics. Clearly, there was a limit to “student power.” The question was posed: if not students, then what force could bring social change? The French general strike of May 1968 gave an answer. This incipient workers revolution in France exposed the charlatanry of an earlier generation of “post-Marxist” ideologues such as Herbert Marcuse, who had written off the revolutionary potential of the working class. May ’68 forced the New Left to confront the key question of class, laying the basis for new layers of youth to be won to revolutionary Marxism.
SDS’s rejection of the “Old Left” was in large measure a response to the boring reformist politics of the Stalinist Communist Party, which had been deeply ensconced in Democratic Party politics for decades and whose idea of black struggle was to follow the lead of the “respectable,” religious black leaders. The most widely known self-styled Trotskyist organization at the time, the Socialist Workers Party (SWP), was moving rapidly to the right when our founding cadres were expelled as a left-wing opposition in 1963-64. The SWP and its National Peace Action Coalition (NPAC) gave Trotskyism a bad name as they promoted “peaceful, legal” single-issue antiwar peace crawls in order to make a reformist alliance with the defeatist wing of the U.S. bourgeoisie and social-democratic trade-union bureaucrats. The SWP’s alliance with liberal imperialists was sealed in blood when Spartacist supporters along with PLers and SDSers were beaten and expelled from a 1971 NPAC conference for protesting the presence of ruling-class politician Vance Hartke on the platform. (See “The Vietnam Antiwar Movement and the National Peace Action Coalition,” WV No. 920, 12 September 2008).
Our Trotskyist program won a hearing within SDS, and the forebear of today’s Spartacus Youth Clubs was founded as the Revolutionary Marxist Caucus (RMC) in SDS in early 1970. The RMC sought to win radical-minded students to a revolutionary, internationalist and proletarian communist program. This included fighting for an understanding of the lessons of the Russian Revolution of 1917, the world’s first successful workers revolution, which pulled Russia out of the bloody slaughter of World War I, expropriated the capitalist class, and placed Russia’s economy under the control of democratic workers rule through soviets (workers councils). The RMC also sought to lay out Trotsky’s understanding of the material roots of the bureaucratic degeneration of the Russian Revolution (see our pamphlet, The Stalin School of Falsification Revisited).
In the summer of 1969 at the SDS National Convention in Chicago, facing the prospect of Progressive Labor’s positions gaining a majority, a clique within the SDS National Collective (NC), including Bernardine Dohrn and Mike Klonsky, engineered a split, lining up Black Panthers and others to race-bait PL supporters. When PL refused to take the bait, the NC splitters led their followers out of the conference. We remained with the PL-led Worker-Student Alliance (WSA) wing of SDS, based on its orientation, however crude, to the proletariat. But while PL correctly opposed the RYM splitters’ sectoralism, it also advanced (as it continues to do) a line of indifference toward special oppression, for example, racial and sexual oppression. We fought for a proletarian orientation on this question—we issued position papers within SDS, arguing for a Leninist vanguard party to bring the power of the working class to bear in the interests of all the oppressed (see “‘Racial Oppression and Working-Class Politics’,” WV No. 897, 31 August 2007, and “‘The Fight for Women’s Liberation’,” WV No. 910, 14 March 2008).
PL was vulnerable to our Trotskyist criticism, but ultimately they clung to their reformist “minimum/maximum program,” combining “communist” rhetoric with reformist practice. We warned: “By attempting to build on social guilt, moralism, and empiricism, the three most obnoxious and defective characteristics of the American left, PL creates the conditions for its own defeat and the continuous splits to the right…. Without a clearly reasoned theoretical explanation for its break with Stalinist theory, without an institution of real inner party democracy, and without a transitional program which bridges the gap between ‘rubber mats’ [PL’s concrete demands for workers struggle on campus were usually grotesquely minimal] and the dictatorship of the proletariat, PL is bound to create within itself right wing splits and transmit the same process to SDS” (“Final SDS Convention?”, Revolutionary Marxist Caucus Newsletter No. 6, March 1971). Indeed, PL eventually “led” its WSA-SDS in retreat into outright liberal idealism, campus parochialism and ordinary reformism.
Terrorism and Communism
As we wrote in Youth, Class and Party:
“The break-up of the New Left, most evident in the 1969 SDS split, was caused by the inadequacy of New Left politics in the face of the general social crisis of the late ’60’s. With the collapse of the traditional New Left, there remained three general political tendencies on the left. One is an attempt to re-establish the ties between the left and the liberal political establishment, now possible because of the deep split in the ruling class over the Vietnam war. The second is a policy of confrontation with the armed forces of the state and terrorism practiced in the name of Third World nationalism. The third tendency is that of proletarian socialism of which the Revolutionary Communist Youth is an important element.”
Lacking a proletarian strategy, and desperate to do something, some in the RYM wing ended up in the Weather Underground. The Weathermen would conduct acts of individual terror that were self-defeating and, more times than not, far more dangerous to themselves than to the bourgeoisie. Such a program was no break from liberalism, but in fact a logical conclusion, in extremis, of the liberal program of bearing “moral witness” to the government’s crimes. The Weathermen’s strategy was futile; at the same time, their targets were representatives of imperialism and capitalist oppression. As comrade Trotsky wrote of a German youth who had assassinated a Nazi:
“We Marxists consider the tactic of individual terror inexpedient in the tasks of the liberating struggle of the proletariat as well as oppressed nationalities. A single isolated hero cannot replace the masses. But we understand only too clearly the inevitability of such convulsive acts of despair and vengeance. All our emotions, all our sympathies are with the self-sacrificing avengers even though they have been unable to discover the correct road.”
—“For Grynszpan: Against Fascist Pogrom Gangs and Stalinist Scoundrels,” February 1939
While politically in opposition to the Weathermen, we fought for their defense, insisting that they were “an integral part of the radical movement.” We wrote:
“The real crime vis-a-vis terror politics and heroic individualism is that it allows the revolutionary energies of some of the movement’s most talented, dedicated people to be channeled into futile and self-destructive actions. It is our job to seek to redirect these energies into genuinely revolutionary directions.”
—“Terrorism and Communism,” Spartacist (English-language edition) No. 17-18, August-September 1970
Other so-called “socialists” refused to defend the Weathermen and often even joined the witchhunting chorus against them. The Communist Party and Socialist Workers Party both denounced this small, isolated, and persecuted outfit of misguided radical youth. For its part, PL branded the Weathermen “police agents.”
Although the new SDS is divided over whether the Weathermen were heroic, criminal or simply irrelevant, the Weathermen’s politics have a pale echo in the new SDS’s “acts of resistance” which, even at their most militant, lack both the social power and political program required to challenge the class rule of the capitalists. Like much of the “anti-globalization” movement, these protests are based on “the dangerously false idea that the capitalist U.S. is or could be pressured into being a democracy ‘for the people’ if only the anti-globalization youth were determined or creative enough to make the rulers pay attention…. Lacking a perspective of mobilizing the working class against the rule of capital, such confrontations with the cops amount to the streetfighting face of reformism” (“What Strategy to Defeat Imperialism?” WV No. 817, 9 January 2004).
In the Pacific Northwest, SDSers and others have repeatedly blocked military convoys, delaying shipments of war materiel to Iraq. These courageous protesters have been arrested, beaten and pepper-sprayed, but they lack the social power and political program needed to stop the U.S. imperialists’ overwhelming military might. Despite our vast political differences, we revolutionary Marxist youth defend SDS when it runs afoul of the state (see “UCLA: 16 Arrested at SDS/SWF Protest—Drop the Charges! For Free, Quality, Integrated Education for All!” WV No. 918, 1 August 2008, and “Drop Charges Against Evergreen 6! Reinstate Olympia SDS!” WV No. 914, 9 May 2008).
SDS Today: Second Time Farce…
Once the U.S. had been defeated on the battlefield in Vietnam and mass protests had ended, many former SDSers reconciled themselves to the capitalist system. Tom Hayden, for example, went on to become a well-known California Democrat and state senator. Many other leading lights from the “generation of ’68” went to work for Democratic Party mayors who oversee the oppression of the working class and oppressed in major urban centers. Former radicals also people the union bureaucracies and liberal civil liberties outfits, as well as the Democratic Party itself. Most recently, Tom Hayden, Carl Davidson and others got involved in Barack Obama’s presidential campaign. Obama, having been vetted and approved by the ruling class, is about to assume the role of overseer of the whole plantation.
The Republicans had attempted to make electoral hay out of Obama’s acquaintance with former Weather Underground member Bill Ayers, a luminary for many new SDSers. Chicago machine Democrat and mayor Richard M. Daley (whose father unleashed the police on the ’68 protests) testified to Ayers’ “rehabilitation”: “This is 2008, people make mistakes. You judge a person by his whole life” (New York Times, 4 October 2008). It is also the case that a section of the ruling class will never forgive the likes of Ayers and Dohrn, no matter how “rehabilitated” they are by other sections of the bourgeoisie with whom they have made their peace. Even more vicious has been the continuing racist persecution of former Panthers, not least Mumia Abu-Jamal, America’s foremost death row political prisoner (see “D.A. Petitions Supreme Court to Reinstate Death Penalty,” p. 2). The racist rulers have long memories. Believe it: they seek to stamp out even the hint of the militant challenge, however politically flawed, which faced them during the social explosions in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Our model is not the confused, eclectic radicalism of the 1960s and early 1970s but rather the Bolsheviks who led the 1917 Russian Revolution. Alienated radical students have no social power per se; they can, however, be won to the fight for a revolutionary workers party, one that struggles for the political independence of the working class from all bourgeois parties and for workers’ state power. Today the fight for revolutionary consciousness is surely an uphill battle, but a necessary one. There is a massive gulf between this understanding and that of the liberal politics, including their more “militant” face, of the present SDS.
* The Emerging Political Possibilities In Haiti- A Guest Commentary
Click on the title to link to an Internationalist Group online article on the current prospects for revolution in Haiti, "Haiti: Workers Solidarity, Yes! Imperialist Occupation, No!"
Markin comment:
I, as much as anyone would like to believe that the current political situation in Haiti would lead to an intact and politicized working class leading the struggle for socialism, but this argument, in the wake of the horrific human disaster there seems premature to say the least. Politically it is hard to grasp what the IG is getting at other than some future hopeful expectation and the obvious anti-imperialist point that we do not support yet another U.S. occupation there.
Markin comment:
I, as much as anyone would like to believe that the current political situation in Haiti would lead to an intact and politicized working class leading the struggle for socialism, but this argument, in the wake of the horrific human disaster there seems premature to say the least. Politically it is hard to grasp what the IG is getting at other than some future hopeful expectation and the obvious anti-imperialist point that we do not support yet another U.S. occupation there.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
*A Voice From An Old Radical Tradition- Professor Howard Zinn
Click on the title to link a January 28, 2010 "The Boston Globe" obituary for Professor Howard Zinn who passed away at 87.
DVD REVIEW
Howard Zinn: You Can’t Be Neutral On A Moving Train, Howard and Roz Zinn and others, Moving Train Productions, 2004
In a lifetime of leftist political work I have run into precious few professors or other intellectual workers who have been committed to a long term radical perspective on American society, much less a call for radical change. The subject of this documentary, Boston University's Professor Emeritus Howard Zinn, is an exception. Although there has been for a long time a vast political gulf between the good professor and this reviewer in terms of how we see the organization of political change occurring we both share fundamentally the same radical critique of American imperialism.
This short documentary flushes out Professor Zinn's early New York City working class upbringing, his military service as a pilot in World War II and his later reflections on his part in that experience that began to lead him to a more radical perspective. The film also details his political perspectives over a lifetime of activism beginning with the early civil rights movement down in the South, where he taught at historically black Spelman College, in the 1950's and early 1960's, centrally around the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC, which he wrote an important and informative book about). Much time is spent on Zinn's very visible role as an active oppositional voice in the central experience of my generation, Vietnam. Then, fast forward, onto the struggles in Central America in the 1980's in defense of the Sandinistas and others and then to the most recent fight against the war in Iraq started by President Bush and his coterie in 2003 and that continues to this day.
Just listing the fights Zinn has participated in tells something about our society as well as about the tenacity of the professor. Additionally, Zinn's highly literate historical works are considered here, especially the very useful "People's History of The United States" (which deserves a separate review of its own that I will do in the future in this space) that is a bible of sorts for identifying a progressive alternative interpretation of the development of American capitalist society and is something of Zinn's crowning glory.
Howard Zinn is clearly the star of this documentary, as he should be (with cameos by wife and companion Roz, and other academic leftists such as Francis Fox Piven and Staughton Lynd). However, I got the distinct feeling while viewing this film that he was presented as something of an old radical gadfly spurring everyone on to "keep up the good fight". And that is fine, as we certainly need those radical academic voices to spur on the youth. I also note that Zinn's influence seems to be far greater on my generation than on latter ones. That is hardly his fault. Each generation needs to come to a progressive social perspective in its own way. As a son of the very poorest layer of the working class from the generation after Zinn's I could relate to his upbringing but that compelling life story, as the current usage goes, might not be so to the Obama generation.
What is brother Zinn's "fault" is, however, except for that very strong sense of personal witness on his part against the injustices of the world, that he has no idea about how one would effectively organize the resistance to the American state. That in the final analysis was the weakness of one of his heroines, the fiery anarchist Emma Goldman, and it is his as well. One hardly needs to be a Leninist, although that might help, to know that moral suasion is not enough to go up against the monsters that run this society. And win.
We can fight that question out at another time. But here let me go back to that first sentence of the last paragraph about the strong sense of social justice and the need to bare the inequities of this society. For that, Professor Zinn, all honor to you.
DVD REVIEW
Howard Zinn: You Can’t Be Neutral On A Moving Train, Howard and Roz Zinn and others, Moving Train Productions, 2004
In a lifetime of leftist political work I have run into precious few professors or other intellectual workers who have been committed to a long term radical perspective on American society, much less a call for radical change. The subject of this documentary, Boston University's Professor Emeritus Howard Zinn, is an exception. Although there has been for a long time a vast political gulf between the good professor and this reviewer in terms of how we see the organization of political change occurring we both share fundamentally the same radical critique of American imperialism.
This short documentary flushes out Professor Zinn's early New York City working class upbringing, his military service as a pilot in World War II and his later reflections on his part in that experience that began to lead him to a more radical perspective. The film also details his political perspectives over a lifetime of activism beginning with the early civil rights movement down in the South, where he taught at historically black Spelman College, in the 1950's and early 1960's, centrally around the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC, which he wrote an important and informative book about). Much time is spent on Zinn's very visible role as an active oppositional voice in the central experience of my generation, Vietnam. Then, fast forward, onto the struggles in Central America in the 1980's in defense of the Sandinistas and others and then to the most recent fight against the war in Iraq started by President Bush and his coterie in 2003 and that continues to this day.
Just listing the fights Zinn has participated in tells something about our society as well as about the tenacity of the professor. Additionally, Zinn's highly literate historical works are considered here, especially the very useful "People's History of The United States" (which deserves a separate review of its own that I will do in the future in this space) that is a bible of sorts for identifying a progressive alternative interpretation of the development of American capitalist society and is something of Zinn's crowning glory.
Howard Zinn is clearly the star of this documentary, as he should be (with cameos by wife and companion Roz, and other academic leftists such as Francis Fox Piven and Staughton Lynd). However, I got the distinct feeling while viewing this film that he was presented as something of an old radical gadfly spurring everyone on to "keep up the good fight". And that is fine, as we certainly need those radical academic voices to spur on the youth. I also note that Zinn's influence seems to be far greater on my generation than on latter ones. That is hardly his fault. Each generation needs to come to a progressive social perspective in its own way. As a son of the very poorest layer of the working class from the generation after Zinn's I could relate to his upbringing but that compelling life story, as the current usage goes, might not be so to the Obama generation.
What is brother Zinn's "fault" is, however, except for that very strong sense of personal witness on his part against the injustices of the world, that he has no idea about how one would effectively organize the resistance to the American state. That in the final analysis was the weakness of one of his heroines, the fiery anarchist Emma Goldman, and it is his as well. One hardly needs to be a Leninist, although that might help, to know that moral suasion is not enough to go up against the monsters that run this society. And win.
We can fight that question out at another time. But here let me go back to that first sentence of the last paragraph about the strong sense of social justice and the need to bare the inequities of this society. For that, Professor Zinn, all honor to you.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
"St. Louis Woman"- Bessie Smith On Video
DVD Review
The Blues Is The Dues-Right?
The Blues, Bessie Smith, Mame Smith, Ida Cox, Big ill Broonzy and Sonny Boy Williamson, Storyville Films, 2007
I have mentioned more than once over the past year of reviewing blues artists in this space that most of my favorites in my youth had already, one way or another, passed from the scene and therefore I had not been able to see them in live performances. Thus, for the most part, I know this music from records, tapes, CDs, later covers and, on occasion, from a video clip (more so now with the increases in video technology and information spread that makes this material more accessible). That is the case here with the performances of Bessie Smith in “St. Louis Woman”; Mame Smith: Ida Cox: Bill Big Broonzy: and, Sonny Boy Williamson.
Those who follow this space know that I have commented previously on Bessie “The Empress Of The Blues” Smith and the legendary “Big Bill” Broonzy. They need no further introduction here. Mame Smith and Ida Cox were working at the same time and in the same milieu as Bessie Smith although off their performances here they do not challenge Bessie’s claim to the Empress title. “Big Bill” here mainly does some very nice guitar work but nothing memorable. Sonny Boy Williamson, aside from the controversy about whether or what his right name was, kind of sneaks in here with some virtuoso harmonica performances. However, what you want to get this video for is Bessie singing “St. Louis Woman” in this short black and white clip from 1929. This is the old tale of a “fancy” man doing his woman wrong and she can’t break his spell. Not even by singing the blues. Watch this thing. It is incredible. Then you will know why she was the Empress.
The Blues Is The Dues-Right?
The Blues, Bessie Smith, Mame Smith, Ida Cox, Big ill Broonzy and Sonny Boy Williamson, Storyville Films, 2007
I have mentioned more than once over the past year of reviewing blues artists in this space that most of my favorites in my youth had already, one way or another, passed from the scene and therefore I had not been able to see them in live performances. Thus, for the most part, I know this music from records, tapes, CDs, later covers and, on occasion, from a video clip (more so now with the increases in video technology and information spread that makes this material more accessible). That is the case here with the performances of Bessie Smith in “St. Louis Woman”; Mame Smith: Ida Cox: Bill Big Broonzy: and, Sonny Boy Williamson.
Those who follow this space know that I have commented previously on Bessie “The Empress Of The Blues” Smith and the legendary “Big Bill” Broonzy. They need no further introduction here. Mame Smith and Ida Cox were working at the same time and in the same milieu as Bessie Smith although off their performances here they do not challenge Bessie’s claim to the Empress title. “Big Bill” here mainly does some very nice guitar work but nothing memorable. Sonny Boy Williamson, aside from the controversy about whether or what his right name was, kind of sneaks in here with some virtuoso harmonica performances. However, what you want to get this video for is Bessie singing “St. Louis Woman” in this short black and white clip from 1929. This is the old tale of a “fancy” man doing his woman wrong and she can’t break his spell. Not even by singing the blues. Watch this thing. It is incredible. Then you will know why she was the Empress.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
*The Hoochie Coochie Man- The Blues of Muddy Waters -"He's Got His Mojo Workin'"
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Muddy Waters in Performance mode.
DVD Review
Muddy's Got His Mojo Working
Muddy Waters: Got My Mojo Working, German Cinema, 2003
Recently I watched this German cinema produced film concert documentary compilation as a companion piece to the documentary of Muddy’s life- “Muddy Waters Can’t Be Satisfied”. If you need background about the life and work of this important blues artist and innovator check out my review of it in this space (above). And get the film. If you just need a flat out “short course” in the electric blues of Mr. Muddy Waters and his various bands then this is the ticket. Some of the concert material is so-so, some is excellent. What you want to get this one for though is his incredible extended version of “Mannish Boy”. Hoochie Coochie Man, indeed.
DVD Review
Muddy's Got His Mojo Working
Muddy Waters: Got My Mojo Working, German Cinema, 2003
Recently I watched this German cinema produced film concert documentary compilation as a companion piece to the documentary of Muddy’s life- “Muddy Waters Can’t Be Satisfied”. If you need background about the life and work of this important blues artist and innovator check out my review of it in this space (above). And get the film. If you just need a flat out “short course” in the electric blues of Mr. Muddy Waters and his various bands then this is the ticket. Some of the concert material is so-so, some is excellent. What you want to get this one for though is his incredible extended version of “Mannish Boy”. Hoochie Coochie Man, indeed.
*The Hoochie Coochie Man- The Blues of Muddy Waters
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Muddy waters Performing "He's Got His Mojo Workin'".
DVD Review
Anytime Is Blues History Month
Muddy Waters Can’t Be Satisfied, Muddy Waters, various band members and other artists, Productions,1997
Over the past year I have made some effort to trace back the roots of the blues by highlighting various seemingly forgotten blues artists, mainly from the country blues branch. I have also mentioned that the huge black migration of blacks in the 1930’ sand 1940’s from the South to the North, mainly up the river to Chicago, called for a different kind of energy and so the blues got plugged in to reflect that change. One would think that well before now I would have covered the great Muddy Waters, a seminal figure in that transformation of the blues. There are a few reasons what this has not been done previously. For one, I have tried to concentrate on the country blues artist, many who have been unjustly neglected. For another, I was aware that “Cadillac Records”, essentially the story of Muddy and his relationship to Chicago’s Chess Records, the key outlet for electric blues during its rise, was to be released at the end of 2008. But the main reason is that when it comes to the question of the “King of Chicago Blues” Howlin’ Wolf is my choice and I have felt no urgency to get to Muddy’s work, as important as it is to my project.
That said, this well made production highlighting the career and work of Muddy Waters is well worth the watch whatever your sympathies. As usual with these kinds of efforts there are many “talking heads” that inevitably populate this format. These include, importantly, various musicians that worked with Muddy over the years, like James Cotton and Charlie Musselwhite, and provide insight into his musician style, his personal habits including his womanizing and drinking, his on-and- off stage presences, a tour of various spots in Chicago where the music was made in the old days and a hint at his personality. There are also the appreciations by various later musicians influenced by Muddy, including Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton and the ubiquitous Keith Richards. Finally there are family members, girlfriends and others giving their, sometimes painful, recollections of the man.
Additionally, this film provides a running commentary through Muddy’s life, of the ups and downs of Chicago blues and the artists that performed that work. We get glances of Muddy’s start as a Delta artist in the late 1930’s, the transformation of his work as he hits Chicago in the war time 1940’s, his fight to be “King of the Hill”, his effect on other artists, the decline of the blues with the onslaught of rock & roll in the 1950’s, the revival in the 1960’s and his ultimate place in the blues pantheon. Along the way we get to hear snippets of his most famous work, including “Can’t Be Satisfied” and “Mannish Boy”. I, personally, do not think they compare to Howlin’ Wolf on “The Red Rooster” or “The Killing Floor” but this film gives those who have Muddy as number one in their electric blues pantheon plenty of ammunition for their position.
DVD Review
Anytime Is Blues History Month
Muddy Waters Can’t Be Satisfied, Muddy Waters, various band members and other artists, Productions,1997
Over the past year I have made some effort to trace back the roots of the blues by highlighting various seemingly forgotten blues artists, mainly from the country blues branch. I have also mentioned that the huge black migration of blacks in the 1930’ sand 1940’s from the South to the North, mainly up the river to Chicago, called for a different kind of energy and so the blues got plugged in to reflect that change. One would think that well before now I would have covered the great Muddy Waters, a seminal figure in that transformation of the blues. There are a few reasons what this has not been done previously. For one, I have tried to concentrate on the country blues artist, many who have been unjustly neglected. For another, I was aware that “Cadillac Records”, essentially the story of Muddy and his relationship to Chicago’s Chess Records, the key outlet for electric blues during its rise, was to be released at the end of 2008. But the main reason is that when it comes to the question of the “King of Chicago Blues” Howlin’ Wolf is my choice and I have felt no urgency to get to Muddy’s work, as important as it is to my project.
That said, this well made production highlighting the career and work of Muddy Waters is well worth the watch whatever your sympathies. As usual with these kinds of efforts there are many “talking heads” that inevitably populate this format. These include, importantly, various musicians that worked with Muddy over the years, like James Cotton and Charlie Musselwhite, and provide insight into his musician style, his personal habits including his womanizing and drinking, his on-and- off stage presences, a tour of various spots in Chicago where the music was made in the old days and a hint at his personality. There are also the appreciations by various later musicians influenced by Muddy, including Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton and the ubiquitous Keith Richards. Finally there are family members, girlfriends and others giving their, sometimes painful, recollections of the man.
Additionally, this film provides a running commentary through Muddy’s life, of the ups and downs of Chicago blues and the artists that performed that work. We get glances of Muddy’s start as a Delta artist in the late 1930’s, the transformation of his work as he hits Chicago in the war time 1940’s, his fight to be “King of the Hill”, his effect on other artists, the decline of the blues with the onslaught of rock & roll in the 1950’s, the revival in the 1960’s and his ultimate place in the blues pantheon. Along the way we get to hear snippets of his most famous work, including “Can’t Be Satisfied” and “Mannish Boy”. I, personally, do not think they compare to Howlin’ Wolf on “The Red Rooster” or “The Killing Floor” but this film gives those who have Muddy as number one in their electric blues pantheon plenty of ammunition for their position.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
*"The Front" In Song- Richard And Mimi Farina's "House Un-American Activities Blues Dream"
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Richard and Mimi Farina performing their musical take on HUAC- "The House Un-American Activities Blues Dream".
Friday, January 23, 2009
***Larry McMurtry’s “Telegraph Days”- Thoroughly Modern…Nellie- A Modern Man Looks At The Old West
Click on title to link to Larry McMurtry's other career as a review of, mostly, Old West literature and themes, for the "New York Review Of Books"
Book Review
Telegraph Days: A Novel, Larry McMurtry, Pocket Star Books, New York, 2006
This is something of an encore by the reviewer of the work of Texas writer, bibliophile, pack rat and Old West aficionado Larry McMurtry. This space is strewn with reviews of his work, good and bad. The centerpiece of the reviews has thus far been “The Last Picture Show “series but I have commented on other efforts, in modern settings and from the Old West. I have also commented on McMurtry’s successes (and failures) in attempting to use a female narrator to put forth his viewpoint. This has been, I am afraid, a very iffy proposition. Nevertheless, here in the character of the post-modern (oops) Old West female narrator and Type –A personality Nellie Courtright he has hit pay dirt.
Old Nellie tells her saga of her interaction with the lives, lust, loves and sheer balderdash of many of the iconic figures of the Old West in the last third of the 19th century like Bill Cody, The Earps and (be still my heart) Bill Hickok, warts and all. And along the way she tells us how it was to be an ‘uppity’ (and successful) professional woman in what was very much a man’s world (and least that has been how it has always advertised). Then there is, this is a novel after all, the bravado and bragging of her various sexual exploits that may, or may not, have made grandmother blush. All in all a fast read and although not a classic McMurtry effort not bad compared with some of his other later work. I commented elsewhere that he seemed to be running out of steam in his late work. This effort staunches that a little.
Book Review
Telegraph Days: A Novel, Larry McMurtry, Pocket Star Books, New York, 2006
This is something of an encore by the reviewer of the work of Texas writer, bibliophile, pack rat and Old West aficionado Larry McMurtry. This space is strewn with reviews of his work, good and bad. The centerpiece of the reviews has thus far been “The Last Picture Show “series but I have commented on other efforts, in modern settings and from the Old West. I have also commented on McMurtry’s successes (and failures) in attempting to use a female narrator to put forth his viewpoint. This has been, I am afraid, a very iffy proposition. Nevertheless, here in the character of the post-modern (oops) Old West female narrator and Type –A personality Nellie Courtright he has hit pay dirt.
Old Nellie tells her saga of her interaction with the lives, lust, loves and sheer balderdash of many of the iconic figures of the Old West in the last third of the 19th century like Bill Cody, The Earps and (be still my heart) Bill Hickok, warts and all. And along the way she tells us how it was to be an ‘uppity’ (and successful) professional woman in what was very much a man’s world (and least that has been how it has always advertised). Then there is, this is a novel after all, the bravado and bragging of her various sexual exploits that may, or may not, have made grandmother blush. All in all a fast read and although not a classic McMurtry effort not bad compared with some of his other later work. I commented elsewhere that he seemed to be running out of steam in his late work. This effort staunches that a little.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Anti-War Slogans For The Obama Regime-U.S. Hands Off The World!
Commentary
I previewed these comments on November 12, 2008. As Senator Barack Obama takes office as the 44th President of the United States these are fighting slogans for those who want to struggle against war and American imperialism. More, much more later.
This is one of those short and sweet commentaries because frankly it has all been said before and merely bears repeating here:
Okay, now the “anti-war” Democratic presidential candidate has won and on January 20, 2009 will succeed to the office of American imperialist president-in-chief. That means, well-intentioned or not, Senator Barack Obama will be the new sheriff in town, and will act accordingly. So, just to steal a little of the Senator’s thunder, for surely the election of a black person to the highest office in historically racially tense America is significant, if for no other reason that to not forget what this struggle is all about. First and foremost- Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal From Iraq and Afghanistan. Hands Off Iran. Hands Off Pakistan, and just to be on the safe side- U.S. Hands Off The World! Sorry, Senator but there are no “100 day” honeymoons on this front. More importantly, anti-warriors are you listening? And are you ready to fight Obama under those slogans when he comes up short?
I previewed these comments on November 12, 2008. As Senator Barack Obama takes office as the 44th President of the United States these are fighting slogans for those who want to struggle against war and American imperialism. More, much more later.
This is one of those short and sweet commentaries because frankly it has all been said before and merely bears repeating here:
Okay, now the “anti-war” Democratic presidential candidate has won and on January 20, 2009 will succeed to the office of American imperialist president-in-chief. That means, well-intentioned or not, Senator Barack Obama will be the new sheriff in town, and will act accordingly. So, just to steal a little of the Senator’s thunder, for surely the election of a black person to the highest office in historically racially tense America is significant, if for no other reason that to not forget what this struggle is all about. First and foremost- Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal From Iraq and Afghanistan. Hands Off Iran. Hands Off Pakistan, and just to be on the safe side- U.S. Hands Off The World! Sorry, Senator but there are no “100 day” honeymoons on this front. More importantly, anti-warriors are you listening? And are you ready to fight Obama under those slogans when he comes up short?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
*Long Live The Memory of the Slave General Spartacus- Howard Fast's Novelistic Treatment
Click on title to link to Wikipedia's entry for the writer Howard Fast.
Book Review
Spartacus, Howard Fast, North Castle Books, New York, 1951
In one of the ironies of political life I found a copy of this book under review, Spartacus by Howard Fast, in the Young Adult section of the local library. The irony in 2008 is that the author had been among those who early on were blacklisted as Communists, communist sympathizers or dupes during the “night of the long knives” of the McCarthy era in the 1950’s. At that time this book would not only have been proscribed from the library shelves but would have been burned in the public square of this particular town. Why? Well, aside from the author’s then communist sympathies the serious novelistic presentation of the class struggle between free citizens and chattel slaves in ancient Rome was not a fit subject for young minds, or old. Throw in some sexual candid (for the time) descriptions of Roman mores and more than a hint of the bi-sexual or homosexual natures of some of the Roman characters and the book is clearly beyond the pale. So there you have a snapshot of the politics behind the history of the book. But there is more.
The impetus for getting this book out of the library was, as is usually the case when possible, to compare it to the film version that I have previously reviewed in this space. The purpose, mainly, was to compare how true the story line of the film was to the novel. As mentioned in the film review, a fellow blacklistee of Fast's(one who could not write, as least publicly, under his or her own name during the 1950’s due to the political atmosphere) Dalton Trumbo wrote the screenplay. He did not do a bad job of getting the main point out- that eternal need for freedom from the oppressive boot heel of the ruling class- for a commercial film in the more restrictive 1950’s and early 1960’s but the book really is a much better bet if you are looking for a non-academic treatment of the class struggle in ancient Rome (or with appropriate updating now, for that matter).
I have long noted, as others who have studied the question have as well, that oppression oppresses both the oppressed and the oppressor. (Ouch!, for the awkwardness of this sentence.). The dramatic and psychological tension here between the Roman General Crassus (played by Laurence Olivier in the film) who finally defeats the slave General Spartacus is central to that premise. Along the way we get a serious look at the class structure of pre-Christian Rome, it entertainments and its follies, the dagger-like tensions between slave and master and everyone in between, a close look at the military structure of the Roman legions that made it the most feared army in the then known world and the “guerrilla” tactics of the slave armies and more than our fair share about the fate of rebellious slaves who do not win-capital punishment by crucifixion.
As to comparisons between the film and novel in the film Spartacus (in the person of Kirk Douglas) is front and center in person from the first few minutes and the story unfolds from his transfer from a desert mine to the gladiator school at Capua (the owner played by Peter Ustinov) through the gladiator uprising and the various attempts to break the Roman legions and leave Italy. In the book the story is told in reverse, after the defeat and death of Spartacus, the whole Servile War period is summed up by reflections back on those events by the other characters. Of course the love story between Spartacus and Varania (played by Jean Simmons) is more muted. All in all, if you take the three hours to view the film then you really should read Fast’s novel. Then you will know why we proudly honor the name and exploits of Spartacus in left-wing politics even today.
Book Review
Spartacus, Howard Fast, North Castle Books, New York, 1951
In one of the ironies of political life I found a copy of this book under review, Spartacus by Howard Fast, in the Young Adult section of the local library. The irony in 2008 is that the author had been among those who early on were blacklisted as Communists, communist sympathizers or dupes during the “night of the long knives” of the McCarthy era in the 1950’s. At that time this book would not only have been proscribed from the library shelves but would have been burned in the public square of this particular town. Why? Well, aside from the author’s then communist sympathies the serious novelistic presentation of the class struggle between free citizens and chattel slaves in ancient Rome was not a fit subject for young minds, or old. Throw in some sexual candid (for the time) descriptions of Roman mores and more than a hint of the bi-sexual or homosexual natures of some of the Roman characters and the book is clearly beyond the pale. So there you have a snapshot of the politics behind the history of the book. But there is more.
The impetus for getting this book out of the library was, as is usually the case when possible, to compare it to the film version that I have previously reviewed in this space. The purpose, mainly, was to compare how true the story line of the film was to the novel. As mentioned in the film review, a fellow blacklistee of Fast's(one who could not write, as least publicly, under his or her own name during the 1950’s due to the political atmosphere) Dalton Trumbo wrote the screenplay. He did not do a bad job of getting the main point out- that eternal need for freedom from the oppressive boot heel of the ruling class- for a commercial film in the more restrictive 1950’s and early 1960’s but the book really is a much better bet if you are looking for a non-academic treatment of the class struggle in ancient Rome (or with appropriate updating now, for that matter).
I have long noted, as others who have studied the question have as well, that oppression oppresses both the oppressed and the oppressor. (Ouch!, for the awkwardness of this sentence.). The dramatic and psychological tension here between the Roman General Crassus (played by Laurence Olivier in the film) who finally defeats the slave General Spartacus is central to that premise. Along the way we get a serious look at the class structure of pre-Christian Rome, it entertainments and its follies, the dagger-like tensions between slave and master and everyone in between, a close look at the military structure of the Roman legions that made it the most feared army in the then known world and the “guerrilla” tactics of the slave armies and more than our fair share about the fate of rebellious slaves who do not win-capital punishment by crucifixion.
As to comparisons between the film and novel in the film Spartacus (in the person of Kirk Douglas) is front and center in person from the first few minutes and the story unfolds from his transfer from a desert mine to the gladiator school at Capua (the owner played by Peter Ustinov) through the gladiator uprising and the various attempts to break the Roman legions and leave Italy. In the book the story is told in reverse, after the defeat and death of Spartacus, the whole Servile War period is summed up by reflections back on those events by the other characters. Of course the love story between Spartacus and Varania (played by Jean Simmons) is more muted. All in all, if you take the three hours to view the film then you really should read Fast’s novel. Then you will know why we proudly honor the name and exploits of Spartacus in left-wing politics even today.
*A Greg Brown Encore-“Covenant”
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown (with producer Bo Ramsey) performing "Dream City".
CD Review
Covenant, Greg Brown, produced by Bo Ramsey, Red House Records, 2000
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are “dream city”, “pretty one more time”, and “waiting on you”.
As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
Waiting on You
waiting on you waiting on you
is about all i do
another night another day
i'm waiting on you
& i don't know why i
keep waiting on you
make up your mind make up your mind
why don't you
it'd be kind it'd be kinder
you know it's true
& i don't know why i
keep waiting on you
yes or no yes or no
what's it gonna be
i can't live on dreams & maybe
& i don't know why i
keep waiting on you
one of these days i'm gonna go away from this
without a why without a cry without a kiss
then you'll know what it is with this deal
then you'll feel what it is that i feel
& even if you don't
at least i won't
be waiting on you
Living in a Prayer
everybody looks like someone i just saw five minutes ago
if i looked too far in the mirror i know i'd have to run
from copper harbour way down to acapulco
where the sun shines on the moon & the moon gives it back to everyone
i'm living in a prayer
every time i turn around some ghost wants to buy me a beer
feel like i'm living in a trashy novel where plot's the only thing
the fire's out the smoke has blown but still nothing is clear
i could swear it's a summer day but then why am i freezing
i should be there
why god let us meet at this time i have no idea
maybe i have paid for my sins by now or i don't have long to live
the meadowlark's song in the evening is not as sweet as the one you sing to me
i will dig deep in my pockets
see what boyhood treasures i can give
you should be here
i should be there
long as i'm in your heart
i'm living in a prayer
Dream City
i'm living in dream city
lost in dreams of you
i'm living in dream city
dreaming is all i do
they're gonna cut off my water
unplug my telephone
if i don't stop my dreaming
i will be out on the street alone
i'm living in dream city
dreaming i'm holding you near
& this is where i'll be
until you give me
a ride out of here
it's such a fine city
i'm running down the halls
it's a red wine city
i'm bumping into walls
i'm living in a palace
i go from room to room
close my eyes & see you
i'm just chasing your perfume
i'm living in dream city
& the rent is rising fast
i'm living in dream city
i don't know how long i can last
if you had never hugged me
my feet would still touch the ground
if you had never kissed me
i'd be back in my hometown
Lullaby
i look at you & i think of bed
you move so cool & freely
& i know what's going on in your head
oh babe you make me sleepy
& we've been married all these years
we know each other deeply
& oh my dear oh my dear
you still make me sleepy
the children they are nearly grown
& ain't they turned out sweetly
they're out tonight & we're alone
& oh babe you make me sleepy
i know your stories you know mine
but tell that one again to me
about the wet woods & the red wine
oh babe it makes me sleepy
you make me feel like lying down
let your hair down completely
when you pull on that raggedyass old cotton nightgown
oh babe you make me sleepy
since we first met & i gave you that twirl
i know nothing can defeat me
not as long as you're my girl
oh babe you make me sleepy
& in your arms i sleep so fine
so well do you meet me
& you can wake me any time
oh babe i ain't that sleepy
Blue Car
i'm driving my blue car baby
down from the mountain so high
i'm driving my blue car baby
coming down to say goodbye
the sunrise is a miracle
but it can't hold a candle to you
do you remember them rides in my blue car
back when it was brand new
well it's a good old car
but the clutch is a little loose
and the brakes are screaming
a song called what's the use
but it's good for one more trip
one more trip to you
the lightning's meant to strike
the tall pine trees
& the birds are meant to cry
& wheel in the breeze
but some things baby
i guess they just ain't meant to be
when i get back up on the mountain
i'll close my door against the wind
i'll park my old blue car
i may fall down the mountain
but i will never fall in love again
Walkin' Daddy
i'm walkin' daddy in the steps that you put down
i'm walkin' daddy & i know not where I'm bound
i'm walkin' daddy this road is dark & long
i'm walkin' daddy & your blood is in me strong
i'm walkin' daddy where the jack's fork river bends
down in missouri where the jack's fork river bends
with you & ma & my sister & with all my dear friends
you're walkin' daddy off through the woods you old hillbilly
you said "this is my son in whom I am well pleased"
ain't no road a good road until it's free to everyone
we're walkin' daddy father holy ghost & son
ain't no sorrow can dim the love comes shining through
i'm walkin' daddy I know what I am here to do
to be of use try to help the deal along
i'm walkin' daddy & i'm just gonna keep walkin' on
Pretty One More Time
all the leaves are turning
& the fields are clear
there's a fire burning
i wish you were here
pretty one more time
pretty one more time
before we're down the line
pretty one more time
& the light is raining
from a midwest sky
i'm all through explaining
goodbye to goodbye
it's getting dark so early
i walked all afternoon
all i see so clearly
will be gone so soon
& a dim light beckons
from a roadside bar
i'll stop in i reckon
i have already come this far
find a place by the window
i've been here before
babe don't be a no-show
come on through that door
i'll write you a letter
i know you feel the fall
things may not get better
but we can always stall
CD Review
Covenant, Greg Brown, produced by Bo Ramsey, Red House Records, 2000
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are “dream city”, “pretty one more time”, and “waiting on you”.
As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
Waiting on You
waiting on you waiting on you
is about all i do
another night another day
i'm waiting on you
& i don't know why i
keep waiting on you
make up your mind make up your mind
why don't you
it'd be kind it'd be kinder
you know it's true
& i don't know why i
keep waiting on you
yes or no yes or no
what's it gonna be
i can't live on dreams & maybe
& i don't know why i
keep waiting on you
one of these days i'm gonna go away from this
without a why without a cry without a kiss
then you'll know what it is with this deal
then you'll feel what it is that i feel
& even if you don't
at least i won't
be waiting on you
Living in a Prayer
everybody looks like someone i just saw five minutes ago
if i looked too far in the mirror i know i'd have to run
from copper harbour way down to acapulco
where the sun shines on the moon & the moon gives it back to everyone
i'm living in a prayer
every time i turn around some ghost wants to buy me a beer
feel like i'm living in a trashy novel where plot's the only thing
the fire's out the smoke has blown but still nothing is clear
i could swear it's a summer day but then why am i freezing
i should be there
why god let us meet at this time i have no idea
maybe i have paid for my sins by now or i don't have long to live
the meadowlark's song in the evening is not as sweet as the one you sing to me
i will dig deep in my pockets
see what boyhood treasures i can give
you should be here
i should be there
long as i'm in your heart
i'm living in a prayer
Dream City
i'm living in dream city
lost in dreams of you
i'm living in dream city
dreaming is all i do
they're gonna cut off my water
unplug my telephone
if i don't stop my dreaming
i will be out on the street alone
i'm living in dream city
dreaming i'm holding you near
& this is where i'll be
until you give me
a ride out of here
it's such a fine city
i'm running down the halls
it's a red wine city
i'm bumping into walls
i'm living in a palace
i go from room to room
close my eyes & see you
i'm just chasing your perfume
i'm living in dream city
& the rent is rising fast
i'm living in dream city
i don't know how long i can last
if you had never hugged me
my feet would still touch the ground
if you had never kissed me
i'd be back in my hometown
Lullaby
i look at you & i think of bed
you move so cool & freely
& i know what's going on in your head
oh babe you make me sleepy
& we've been married all these years
we know each other deeply
& oh my dear oh my dear
you still make me sleepy
the children they are nearly grown
& ain't they turned out sweetly
they're out tonight & we're alone
& oh babe you make me sleepy
i know your stories you know mine
but tell that one again to me
about the wet woods & the red wine
oh babe it makes me sleepy
you make me feel like lying down
let your hair down completely
when you pull on that raggedyass old cotton nightgown
oh babe you make me sleepy
since we first met & i gave you that twirl
i know nothing can defeat me
not as long as you're my girl
oh babe you make me sleepy
& in your arms i sleep so fine
so well do you meet me
& you can wake me any time
oh babe i ain't that sleepy
Blue Car
i'm driving my blue car baby
down from the mountain so high
i'm driving my blue car baby
coming down to say goodbye
the sunrise is a miracle
but it can't hold a candle to you
do you remember them rides in my blue car
back when it was brand new
well it's a good old car
but the clutch is a little loose
and the brakes are screaming
a song called what's the use
but it's good for one more trip
one more trip to you
the lightning's meant to strike
the tall pine trees
& the birds are meant to cry
& wheel in the breeze
but some things baby
i guess they just ain't meant to be
when i get back up on the mountain
i'll close my door against the wind
i'll park my old blue car
i may fall down the mountain
but i will never fall in love again
Walkin' Daddy
i'm walkin' daddy in the steps that you put down
i'm walkin' daddy & i know not where I'm bound
i'm walkin' daddy this road is dark & long
i'm walkin' daddy & your blood is in me strong
i'm walkin' daddy where the jack's fork river bends
down in missouri where the jack's fork river bends
with you & ma & my sister & with all my dear friends
you're walkin' daddy off through the woods you old hillbilly
you said "this is my son in whom I am well pleased"
ain't no road a good road until it's free to everyone
we're walkin' daddy father holy ghost & son
ain't no sorrow can dim the love comes shining through
i'm walkin' daddy I know what I am here to do
to be of use try to help the deal along
i'm walkin' daddy & i'm just gonna keep walkin' on
Pretty One More Time
all the leaves are turning
& the fields are clear
there's a fire burning
i wish you were here
pretty one more time
pretty one more time
before we're down the line
pretty one more time
& the light is raining
from a midwest sky
i'm all through explaining
goodbye to goodbye
it's getting dark so early
i walked all afternoon
all i see so clearly
will be gone so soon
& a dim light beckons
from a roadside bar
i'll stop in i reckon
i have already come this far
find a place by the window
i've been here before
babe don't be a no-show
come on through that door
i'll write you a letter
i know you feel the fall
things may not get better
but we can always stall
*A Greg Brown Encore- The Best Of Early Greg Brown…. “If I Had Known”
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown (with Bo Ramsey) performing "If I Had Known".
CD/DVD Review
If I Had Known: Essential Recordings, 1980-1996 , Greg Brown, Red House Records, 2003
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here in this version of a “greatest hits” –style albums are: the title track “If I Had Known”, “Canned Goods”, “The Train Carrying Jimmy Rodgers Home”, Where Is Maria”, and the classic “The Poet Game”. As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
"Boomtown"
Here come the artists with their intense faces,
with their need for money and quiet spaces.
They leave New York, they leave L.A..
Here they are - who knows how long they'll stay -
[chorus:]
It's a Boomtown
got another Boomtown
and it'll boom
just as long as boom has room.
Here come the tourists with their blank stares,
with their fanny packs - they are penny millionaires.
Something interesting happened here long time ago.
Now where people used to live their lives the restless
come and go.
[repeat chorus]
Nice to meet you, nice to see you
in a sheepskin coat made in Korea.
Welcome to the new age, the new century.
Welcome to a town with no real reason to be.
[repeat chorus]
The rich build sensitive houses and pass their staff around.
For the rest of us, it's trailers on the outskirts of town.
We carry them their coffee, wash their shiny cars,
hear all about how lucky we are
to be living in a ...
[repeat chorus]
The guy from California moves in and relaxes.
The natives have to move - they cannot pay the taxes.
Santa Fe has had it. Sedona has, too.
Maybe you'll be lucky - maybe your town will be the new...
[repeat chorus]
"The Poet Game"
Down by the river junior year
walking with my girl,
and we came upon a place
there in the tall grass where a couple
had been making love
and left the mark of their embrace.
I said to her, "Looks like they had some fun."
She said to me, "Let's do the same."
and still I taste her kisses
and her freckles in the sun
when I play the poet game.
A young man down in hill country
in the year of '22
went to see his future bride.
She lived in a rough old shack
that poverty blew through.
She invited him inside.
She'd been cooking, ashamed and feeling sad,
she could only offer him bread and her name -
Grandpa said that it was the best gift
a fella ever had
and he taught me the poet game.
I had a friend who drank too much
and played too much guitar -
and we sure got along.
Reel-to-reels rolled across
the country near and far
with letters poems and songs..
but these days he don't talk to me
and he won't tell me why.
I miss him every time i say his name.
I don't know what he's doing
or why our friendship died
while we played the poet game.
The fall rain was pounding down
on an old New Hampshire mill
and the river wild and high.
I was talking to her while leaves blew down
like a sudden chill -
there was wildness in her eyes.
We made love like we'd been waiting
all of our lives for this -
Strangers know no shame -
But she had to leave at dawn
and with a sticky farewell kiss
left me to play the poet game.
I watched my country turn into
a coast-to-coast strip mall
and I cried out in a song:
if we could do all that in thirty years,
then please tell me you all -
why does good change take so long?
Why does the color of your skin
or who you choose to love
still lead to such anger and pain?
And why do I think it's any help
for me to still dream of
playing the poet game?
Sirens wail above the fields -
another soul gone down -
another Sun about to rise.
I've lost track of my mistakes,
like birds they fly around
and darken half of my skies.
To all of those I've hurt -
I pray you'll forgive me.
I to you will freely do the same.
so many things I didn't see,
with my eyes turned inside,
playing the poet game.
I walk out at night to take a leak
underneath the stars -
oh yeah that's the life for me.
There's Orion and the Pleiades
and I guess that must be Mars -
all as clear as we long to be.
I've sung what I was given -
some was bad and some was good.
I never did know from where it came
and if I had it all to do again
I am not sure I would
play the poet game.
"Ballingall Hotel"
I said I'd never come to this ugly old hotel again.
Baby, here I am.
I said I'd never knock again on # 22
Baby, how are you?
Some nights something grabs you and
you don't even know what it is.
Give me a kiss.
Leave that black slip on and dance just like you
did last time.
I'm so glad your plans for leaving fell through -
just like mine.
Ain't no air conditioning, the ceiling fan don't work
too well.
Guess we'll have to sweat it out again at the
Ballingal Hotel.
One night I knocked on the wrong door
and myself as an old man answered - so drunk
and so poor.
I said I'd never come again to this ugly old hotel -
but what the hell.
"One Wrong Turn"
[chorus:]
One wrong turn is all it takes
and there ain't many signs -
you only get a few breaks.
Some get more. Some get less.
One wrong turn leads to the next.
The days go slow and the years go fast.
The future you look for is soon the past.
You seldom end up where you thought you would.
One wrong turn can change it all for good.
[repeat chorus]
Love ain't a hug. Love ain't a kiss.
Love is every day doing this, that, this.
We put in our time and we put in our heart.
One wrong turn can tear it all apart.
[repeat chorus]
Where's that little house with the porch light on
in a stand of cedar and the highway gone -
Good smells of cooking and the garden loam -
I'd have thought by now I'd have found my home.
[repeat chorus]
"Jesus & Elvis"
Jesus had some water, said "Wine'd be better yet".
Elvis picked up a guitar and made all women wet.
Elvis he died young - Jesus he died younger.
Elvis died of too much - Jesus died of hunger.
Jesus sang down through the ages: "Do like you'd have'em
do you".
Elvis rocked the universe with be-bop-a-lu-la -
Now here they are on black velvet, in a parking lot in
Missouri -
rocking my soul with rock'n'roll, soulful harmony.
Jesus went back to heaven to be the King of Kings,
but I hear the King of Rock'n'Roll is still restlessly
roaming.
Go on home to Jesus, El - he's waiting there you'll find.
You two can jam on old gospel songs - them are the best
kind.
CD/DVD Review
If I Had Known: Essential Recordings, 1980-1996 , Greg Brown, Red House Records, 2003
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here in this version of a “greatest hits” –style albums are: the title track “If I Had Known”, “Canned Goods”, “The Train Carrying Jimmy Rodgers Home”, Where Is Maria”, and the classic “The Poet Game”. As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
"Boomtown"
Here come the artists with their intense faces,
with their need for money and quiet spaces.
They leave New York, they leave L.A..
Here they are - who knows how long they'll stay -
[chorus:]
It's a Boomtown
got another Boomtown
and it'll boom
just as long as boom has room.
Here come the tourists with their blank stares,
with their fanny packs - they are penny millionaires.
Something interesting happened here long time ago.
Now where people used to live their lives the restless
come and go.
[repeat chorus]
Nice to meet you, nice to see you
in a sheepskin coat made in Korea.
Welcome to the new age, the new century.
Welcome to a town with no real reason to be.
[repeat chorus]
The rich build sensitive houses and pass their staff around.
For the rest of us, it's trailers on the outskirts of town.
We carry them their coffee, wash their shiny cars,
hear all about how lucky we are
to be living in a ...
[repeat chorus]
The guy from California moves in and relaxes.
The natives have to move - they cannot pay the taxes.
Santa Fe has had it. Sedona has, too.
Maybe you'll be lucky - maybe your town will be the new...
[repeat chorus]
"The Poet Game"
Down by the river junior year
walking with my girl,
and we came upon a place
there in the tall grass where a couple
had been making love
and left the mark of their embrace.
I said to her, "Looks like they had some fun."
She said to me, "Let's do the same."
and still I taste her kisses
and her freckles in the sun
when I play the poet game.
A young man down in hill country
in the year of '22
went to see his future bride.
She lived in a rough old shack
that poverty blew through.
She invited him inside.
She'd been cooking, ashamed and feeling sad,
she could only offer him bread and her name -
Grandpa said that it was the best gift
a fella ever had
and he taught me the poet game.
I had a friend who drank too much
and played too much guitar -
and we sure got along.
Reel-to-reels rolled across
the country near and far
with letters poems and songs..
but these days he don't talk to me
and he won't tell me why.
I miss him every time i say his name.
I don't know what he's doing
or why our friendship died
while we played the poet game.
The fall rain was pounding down
on an old New Hampshire mill
and the river wild and high.
I was talking to her while leaves blew down
like a sudden chill -
there was wildness in her eyes.
We made love like we'd been waiting
all of our lives for this -
Strangers know no shame -
But she had to leave at dawn
and with a sticky farewell kiss
left me to play the poet game.
I watched my country turn into
a coast-to-coast strip mall
and I cried out in a song:
if we could do all that in thirty years,
then please tell me you all -
why does good change take so long?
Why does the color of your skin
or who you choose to love
still lead to such anger and pain?
And why do I think it's any help
for me to still dream of
playing the poet game?
Sirens wail above the fields -
another soul gone down -
another Sun about to rise.
I've lost track of my mistakes,
like birds they fly around
and darken half of my skies.
To all of those I've hurt -
I pray you'll forgive me.
I to you will freely do the same.
so many things I didn't see,
with my eyes turned inside,
playing the poet game.
I walk out at night to take a leak
underneath the stars -
oh yeah that's the life for me.
There's Orion and the Pleiades
and I guess that must be Mars -
all as clear as we long to be.
I've sung what I was given -
some was bad and some was good.
I never did know from where it came
and if I had it all to do again
I am not sure I would
play the poet game.
"Ballingall Hotel"
I said I'd never come to this ugly old hotel again.
Baby, here I am.
I said I'd never knock again on # 22
Baby, how are you?
Some nights something grabs you and
you don't even know what it is.
Give me a kiss.
Leave that black slip on and dance just like you
did last time.
I'm so glad your plans for leaving fell through -
just like mine.
Ain't no air conditioning, the ceiling fan don't work
too well.
Guess we'll have to sweat it out again at the
Ballingal Hotel.
One night I knocked on the wrong door
and myself as an old man answered - so drunk
and so poor.
I said I'd never come again to this ugly old hotel -
but what the hell.
"One Wrong Turn"
[chorus:]
One wrong turn is all it takes
and there ain't many signs -
you only get a few breaks.
Some get more. Some get less.
One wrong turn leads to the next.
The days go slow and the years go fast.
The future you look for is soon the past.
You seldom end up where you thought you would.
One wrong turn can change it all for good.
[repeat chorus]
Love ain't a hug. Love ain't a kiss.
Love is every day doing this, that, this.
We put in our time and we put in our heart.
One wrong turn can tear it all apart.
[repeat chorus]
Where's that little house with the porch light on
in a stand of cedar and the highway gone -
Good smells of cooking and the garden loam -
I'd have thought by now I'd have found my home.
[repeat chorus]
"Jesus & Elvis"
Jesus had some water, said "Wine'd be better yet".
Elvis picked up a guitar and made all women wet.
Elvis he died young - Jesus he died younger.
Elvis died of too much - Jesus died of hunger.
Jesus sang down through the ages: "Do like you'd have'em
do you".
Elvis rocked the universe with be-bop-a-lu-la -
Now here they are on black velvet, in a parking lot in
Missouri -
rocking my soul with rock'n'roll, soulful harmony.
Jesus went back to heaven to be the King of Kings,
but I hear the King of Rock'n'Roll is still restlessly
roaming.
Go on home to Jesus, El - he's waiting there you'll find.
You two can jam on old gospel songs - them are the best
kind.
*A Greg Brown Encore-Songs Of Love, Lost, Lust-“Milk Of The Moon”
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown performing "Better Days".
CD Review
Milk Of The Moon, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 2002
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are “Smell Of Coffee”, the title track “Milk Of The Moon”, “Ashamed Of Our Love”, “Oh You”. As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
Smell of Coffee
Bouffant hairdo, ne'er-do-well
Warm the car up, perfume smell
Work is there when love is gone
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Pheasant clucking, ice cold dew
Backseat shotgun, frosty slough
Chevy coughing, let's move on
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Hey there, Benny, is this your home?
Railroad cinders, styrofoam
Train a-comin', where's Lost John?
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Blue blue window, factory
Big bad boss man can't find me
Boxes piled up, paycheck gone
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Woman works and man does too
Yellow paper, same old news
Forty years to cross the lawn
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Milk of the Moon
Morning is a siren, evening is a bust
Memories fade, pocketful of dust
I moan to you like a mourning dove
Mistakes are made along with love
On the day you opened up the door
I saw the future slip away, time is just a whore
If you can get any closer, oh please do
I can only dance when I dance with you
I'm drunk on moonmilk, I'm high up in the air
I know a woman she is silk there and there and there
With a kiss she wakes me up, she always leaves too soon
As she does she fills my cup with the milk of the moon
Open up the window, smell the rain
I kiss the pillow where your head has lain
Open up your wild and secret heart
And your flower, the tenderest part
I don't know when we'll meet again
Now will have to do 'til then
In a bed hot and wet like tears
We slept one night for years and years and years
I'm drunk on moonmilk, I'm high up in the air
I know a woman she is silk there and there and there
With a kiss she wakes me up, she always leaves too soon
As she does she fills my cup with the milk of the moon
Your gifts I'll cherish and I'll save
The look I see upon your face is the only thing I crave
When you're gone I'll try to get some rest
And dream you sleeping on my chest
I'll send you songs to carry you to sleep
Won't be so long we'll have this watch to keep
Loving you is the best I know of home
I'll be thinking of you hard hard hard as I open up my arms
I'm drunk on moonmilk, I'm high up in the air
Oh, woman, you are silk there and there and there
With a kiss you wake me up, you always leave too soon
As you go will you fill my cup with the milk of the moon?
Mud
Got a movie in my mind tonight
Grainy and jumpin', black and white
And I got my neck in close to yours
I can smell you and we're out of doors
You hold me close, I don't know
I hold you tight, I don't have to let go
In the dirt or somethin', somethin's wet
The sky is cloudy like the day we met
I can see through your eyes, things are big
Oh my heart is joy, things are big
Things are bigger, things are huge
Ah, the world comes in us like we want it to
I reach down slowly, down there someplace
Mmm, I get some mud, rub it on your face
And you do the same, and you kiss my blood
And here we are, ah, meeting in the mud
Ah, meeting in the mud
Yeah, meeting in the mud
Oh yeah, meeting in the mud
Yeah, yes, meeting in the mud.....
Ashamed of Our Love
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Our love had room for everyone
Our love had room for everyone
Our love had room for everyone
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why wouldn't you stand up for us?
Why wouldn't you stand up for us?
Our love had room for everyone
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Lies kill any beautiful thing
Why wouldn't you stand up for us?
Our love had room for everyone
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Steady Love
She wants your passion, your caress
She wants your hands on her and a soulful kiss
But she's lookin' for more than just that, son
Gotta be somethin' under all the good times and fun
Oh steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
She might like flowers, might like a poem
Might like it better if you were home
And cooked with her and did a little dance
Where the kitchen is happy, love has a chance
Oh steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
She's seen the cool boys hangin' around
With their sad dark eyes they never settle down
They might've written books or made CDs for the shelves
But they mostly just think about themselves
She wants steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
When the kids are cryin' and the bills are due
And you wonder what you have gotten into
And you think the whole deal is not to be
Give her steady love, you'll find out how hot a woman can be
Steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
I've heard men say, "Well look at that
She's such a babe, he's kinda dull, a little fat"
He must know something about kind and fair
When she needs somebody, the man is there
He gives her steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
Mmmm, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
(Repeat, repeat) I can't stop!
CD Review
Milk Of The Moon, Greg Brown, Red House Records, 2002
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are “Smell Of Coffee”, the title track “Milk Of The Moon”, “Ashamed Of Our Love”, “Oh You”. As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
Smell of Coffee
Bouffant hairdo, ne'er-do-well
Warm the car up, perfume smell
Work is there when love is gone
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Pheasant clucking, ice cold dew
Backseat shotgun, frosty slough
Chevy coughing, let's move on
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Hey there, Benny, is this your home?
Railroad cinders, styrofoam
Train a-comin', where's Lost John?
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Blue blue window, factory
Big bad boss man can't find me
Boxes piled up, paycheck gone
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Woman works and man does too
Yellow paper, same old news
Forty years to cross the lawn
Smell of coffee, crack of dawn
Milk of the Moon
Morning is a siren, evening is a bust
Memories fade, pocketful of dust
I moan to you like a mourning dove
Mistakes are made along with love
On the day you opened up the door
I saw the future slip away, time is just a whore
If you can get any closer, oh please do
I can only dance when I dance with you
I'm drunk on moonmilk, I'm high up in the air
I know a woman she is silk there and there and there
With a kiss she wakes me up, she always leaves too soon
As she does she fills my cup with the milk of the moon
Open up the window, smell the rain
I kiss the pillow where your head has lain
Open up your wild and secret heart
And your flower, the tenderest part
I don't know when we'll meet again
Now will have to do 'til then
In a bed hot and wet like tears
We slept one night for years and years and years
I'm drunk on moonmilk, I'm high up in the air
I know a woman she is silk there and there and there
With a kiss she wakes me up, she always leaves too soon
As she does she fills my cup with the milk of the moon
Your gifts I'll cherish and I'll save
The look I see upon your face is the only thing I crave
When you're gone I'll try to get some rest
And dream you sleeping on my chest
I'll send you songs to carry you to sleep
Won't be so long we'll have this watch to keep
Loving you is the best I know of home
I'll be thinking of you hard hard hard as I open up my arms
I'm drunk on moonmilk, I'm high up in the air
Oh, woman, you are silk there and there and there
With a kiss you wake me up, you always leave too soon
As you go will you fill my cup with the milk of the moon?
Mud
Got a movie in my mind tonight
Grainy and jumpin', black and white
And I got my neck in close to yours
I can smell you and we're out of doors
You hold me close, I don't know
I hold you tight, I don't have to let go
In the dirt or somethin', somethin's wet
The sky is cloudy like the day we met
I can see through your eyes, things are big
Oh my heart is joy, things are big
Things are bigger, things are huge
Ah, the world comes in us like we want it to
I reach down slowly, down there someplace
Mmm, I get some mud, rub it on your face
And you do the same, and you kiss my blood
And here we are, ah, meeting in the mud
Ah, meeting in the mud
Yeah, meeting in the mud
Oh yeah, meeting in the mud
Yeah, yes, meeting in the mud.....
Ashamed of Our Love
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Our love had room for everyone
Our love had room for everyone
Our love had room for everyone
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Why wouldn't you stand up for us?
Why wouldn't you stand up for us?
Our love had room for everyone
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Lies kill any beautiful thing
Why wouldn't you stand up for us?
Our love had room for everyone
Why were you ashamed of our love?
Steady Love
She wants your passion, your caress
She wants your hands on her and a soulful kiss
But she's lookin' for more than just that, son
Gotta be somethin' under all the good times and fun
Oh steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
She might like flowers, might like a poem
Might like it better if you were home
And cooked with her and did a little dance
Where the kitchen is happy, love has a chance
Oh steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
She's seen the cool boys hangin' around
With their sad dark eyes they never settle down
They might've written books or made CDs for the shelves
But they mostly just think about themselves
She wants steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
When the kids are cryin' and the bills are due
And you wonder what you have gotten into
And you think the whole deal is not to be
Give her steady love, you'll find out how hot a woman can be
Steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
I've heard men say, "Well look at that
She's such a babe, he's kinda dull, a little fat"
He must know something about kind and fair
When she needs somebody, the man is there
He gives her steady love, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
Mmmm, steady love
When the chips are down
The kind she can be sure of
Oh steady love
(Repeat, repeat) I can't stop!
OBAMA- Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal from Afghanistan and Iraq!
Commentary
No need to go into heavy analysis here. New imperialist American Commander-in-Chief but same task for anti-warriors. Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal of United States Troops From Afghanistan and Iraq!
No need to go into heavy analysis here. New imperialist American Commander-in-Chief but same task for anti-warriors. Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal of United States Troops From Afghanistan and Iraq!
BUSH- Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal From Afghanistan and Iraq- A Parting Shot
Commentary
No need to go into heavy analysis here. Old imperialist American Commander-in-Chief and same old same task for anti-warriors for a couple more hours of this administration. Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal of United States Troops From Afghanistan and Iraq!
No need to go into heavy analysis here. Old imperialist American Commander-in-Chief and same old same task for anti-warriors for a couple more hours of this administration. Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal of United States Troops From Afghanistan and Iraq!
Monday, January 19, 2009
*The Poet’s Game- The Music Of Folk’s Greg Brown- “the poet game”
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown performing "Jesus And Elvis"
CD Review
the poet game, Greg Brown , Red House Records, 1994
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here, although the whole album from start to finish is probably the highest quality that Greg attains in one album, are the lyrically rich title track “the poet game”, the seamy, steamy ‘ballingall hotel”, the nicely counterpoised (maybe) "jesus and elvis”, the elusiveness of “my new book”, and "driftless". As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
"The Poet Game"
Down by the river junior year
walking with my girl,
and we came upon a place
there in the tall grass where a couple
had been making love
and left the mark of their embrace.
I said to her, "Looks like they had some fun."
She said to me, "Let's do the same."
and still I taste her kisses
and her freckles in the sun
when I play the poet game.
A young man down in hill country
in the year of '22
went to see his future bride.
She lived in a rough old shack
that poverty blew through.
She invited him inside.
She'd been cooking, ashamed and feeling sad,
she could only offer him bread and her name -
Grandpa said that it was the best gift
a fella ever had
and he taught me the poet game.
I had a friend who drank too much
and played too much guitar -
and we sure got along.
Reel-to-reels rolled across
the country near and far
with letters poems and songs..
but these days he don't talk to me
and he won't tell me why.
I miss him every time i say his name.
I don't know what he's doing
or why our friendship died
while we played the poet game.
The fall rain was pounding down
on an old New Hampshire mill
and the river wild and high.
I was talking to her while leaves blew down
like a sudden chill -
there was wildness in her eyes.
We made love like we'd been waiting
all of our lives for this -
Strangers know no shame -
But she had to leave at dawn
and with a sticky farewell kiss
left me to play the poet game.
I watched my country turn into
a coast-to-coast strip mall
and I cried out in a song:
if we could do all that in thirty years,
then please tell me you all -
why does good change take so long?
Why does the color of your skin
or who you choose to love
still lead to such anger and pain?
And why do I think it's any help
for me to still dream of
playing the poet game?
Sirens wail above the fields -
another soul gone down -
another Sun about to rise.
I've lost track of my mistakes,
like birds they fly around
and darken half of my skies.
To all of those I've hurt -
I pray you'll forgive me.
I to you will freely do the same.
so many things I didn't see,
with my eyes turned inside,
playing the poet game.
I walk out at night to take a leak
underneath the stars -
oh yeah that's the life for me.
There's Orion and the Pleiades
and I guess that must be Mars -
all as clear as we long to be.
I've sung what I was given -
some was bad and some was good.
I never did know from where it came
and if I had it all to do again
I am not sure I would
play the poet game.
"Lately"
We closed that bar and we closed that town.
The sun looked different coming up than it did going
down.
That was long ago - do you still love me or do you
hate me?
I wouldn't know - I haven't seen you lately.
We could have died dancing in each other's arms
or driving home close and warm out through the
little farms,
or in the bed, holding on and shaking.
But we did not - and where you been lately?
I can see your eyes, so dark and knowing,
and I wonder where that distant train is going.
If I found you, would you smile - would you take me?
I only know I miss you so much lately.
CD Review
the poet game, Greg Brown , Red House Records, 1994
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here, although the whole album from start to finish is probably the highest quality that Greg attains in one album, are the lyrically rich title track “the poet game”, the seamy, steamy ‘ballingall hotel”, the nicely counterpoised (maybe) "jesus and elvis”, the elusiveness of “my new book”, and "driftless". As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
"The Poet Game"
Down by the river junior year
walking with my girl,
and we came upon a place
there in the tall grass where a couple
had been making love
and left the mark of their embrace.
I said to her, "Looks like they had some fun."
She said to me, "Let's do the same."
and still I taste her kisses
and her freckles in the sun
when I play the poet game.
A young man down in hill country
in the year of '22
went to see his future bride.
She lived in a rough old shack
that poverty blew through.
She invited him inside.
She'd been cooking, ashamed and feeling sad,
she could only offer him bread and her name -
Grandpa said that it was the best gift
a fella ever had
and he taught me the poet game.
I had a friend who drank too much
and played too much guitar -
and we sure got along.
Reel-to-reels rolled across
the country near and far
with letters poems and songs..
but these days he don't talk to me
and he won't tell me why.
I miss him every time i say his name.
I don't know what he's doing
or why our friendship died
while we played the poet game.
The fall rain was pounding down
on an old New Hampshire mill
and the river wild and high.
I was talking to her while leaves blew down
like a sudden chill -
there was wildness in her eyes.
We made love like we'd been waiting
all of our lives for this -
Strangers know no shame -
But she had to leave at dawn
and with a sticky farewell kiss
left me to play the poet game.
I watched my country turn into
a coast-to-coast strip mall
and I cried out in a song:
if we could do all that in thirty years,
then please tell me you all -
why does good change take so long?
Why does the color of your skin
or who you choose to love
still lead to such anger and pain?
And why do I think it's any help
for me to still dream of
playing the poet game?
Sirens wail above the fields -
another soul gone down -
another Sun about to rise.
I've lost track of my mistakes,
like birds they fly around
and darken half of my skies.
To all of those I've hurt -
I pray you'll forgive me.
I to you will freely do the same.
so many things I didn't see,
with my eyes turned inside,
playing the poet game.
I walk out at night to take a leak
underneath the stars -
oh yeah that's the life for me.
There's Orion and the Pleiades
and I guess that must be Mars -
all as clear as we long to be.
I've sung what I was given -
some was bad and some was good.
I never did know from where it came
and if I had it all to do again
I am not sure I would
play the poet game.
"Lately"
We closed that bar and we closed that town.
The sun looked different coming up than it did going
down.
That was long ago - do you still love me or do you
hate me?
I wouldn't know - I haven't seen you lately.
We could have died dancing in each other's arms
or driving home close and warm out through the
little farms,
or in the bed, holding on and shaking.
But we did not - and where you been lately?
I can see your eyes, so dark and knowing,
and I wonder where that distant train is going.
If I found you, would you smile - would you take me?
I only know I miss you so much lately.
*The Poet’s Game- The Music Of Folk’s Greg Brown- “44 &66”
Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Greg Brown performing "Canned Goods".
CD Review
44&66, Greg Brown , Red House Records, 1984
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are the ironically evocative “Bozo’s In Love Again”, the heartland small town tribute “Early”, and the prophetic “Beatniks Gonna Rise Again”. As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
"Jesus & Elvis"
Jesus had some water, said "Wine'd be better yet".
Elvis picked up a guitar and made all women wet.
Elvis he died young - Jesus he died younger.
Elvis died of too much - Jesus died of hunger.
Jesus sang down through the ages: "Do like you'd have'em
do you".
Elvis rocked the universe with be-bop-a-lu-la -
Now here they are on black velvet, in a parking lot in
Missouri -
rocking my soul with rock'n'roll, soulful harmony.
Jesus went back to heaven to be the King of Kings,
but I hear the King of Rock'n'Roll is still restlessly
roaming.
Go on home to Jesus, El - he's waiting there you'll find.
You two can jam on old gospel songs - them are the best
kind.
"Ballingall Hotel"
I said I'd never come to this ugly old hotel again.
Baby, here I am.
I said I'd never knock again on # 22
Baby, how are you?
Some nights something grabs you and
you don't even know what it is.
Give me a kiss.
Leave that black slip on and dance just like you
did last time.
I'm so glad your plans for leaving fell through -
just like mine.
Ain't no air conditioning, the ceiling fan don't work
too well.
Guess we'll have to sweat it out again at the
Ballingal Hotel.
One night I knocked on the wrong door
and myself as an old man answered - so drunk
and so poor.
I said I'd never come again to this ugly old hotel -
but what the hell.
CD Review
44&66, Greg Brown , Red House Records, 1984
Revised December 19, 2008
The first two paragraphs have been used in other reviews of folk musician/singer/songwriter Greg Brown’s work.
Greg Brown is a particular kind of folk singer who before I listened to his “Greg Brown-The Live One ” album reviewed elsewhere in this space I had not really paid attention to since the days of my early youth when I listened intently to Woody Guthrie whose songs were seemingly forged from the very heart of Americana. As a child of the urban folk revival of the 1960’s I got caught up in listening to the more political message songs provided by the likes of Bob Dylan or Phil Ochs. As a poet/singer/songwriter Greg has come out of the heartland of America, like Woody, in a fury to write and sing his tales of love, remembrance, tragedy, desperation and, on occasion, just pure whimsy. He is thus in very good company, and belongs there.
His songs evoke, under more modern conditions to be sure, the days gone by when the community spirit of small town life meant something. A strong bass voice grainy with the trials and tribulations of life lend authenticity to his words, as does strong guitar playing when necessary. Needless to say the variety of topics covered in his songs speak for themselves from Grandma's food cellars to vanishing Iowa family farms to sweaty nights of lovemaking entwined with the up and down battles of love and, of course, the ubiquitous bouts of fishing that gain more than a nod in his albums.
Outstanding here are the ironically evocative “Bozo’s In Love Again”, the heartland small town tribute “Early”, and the prophetic “Beatniks Gonna Rise Again”. As always Greg is on top when singing about the seamy side of life, love and the mysteries of human existence out in the heartland.
"Jesus & Elvis"
Jesus had some water, said "Wine'd be better yet".
Elvis picked up a guitar and made all women wet.
Elvis he died young - Jesus he died younger.
Elvis died of too much - Jesus died of hunger.
Jesus sang down through the ages: "Do like you'd have'em
do you".
Elvis rocked the universe with be-bop-a-lu-la -
Now here they are on black velvet, in a parking lot in
Missouri -
rocking my soul with rock'n'roll, soulful harmony.
Jesus went back to heaven to be the King of Kings,
but I hear the King of Rock'n'Roll is still restlessly
roaming.
Go on home to Jesus, El - he's waiting there you'll find.
You two can jam on old gospel songs - them are the best
kind.
"Ballingall Hotel"
I said I'd never come to this ugly old hotel again.
Baby, here I am.
I said I'd never knock again on # 22
Baby, how are you?
Some nights something grabs you and
you don't even know what it is.
Give me a kiss.
Leave that black slip on and dance just like you
did last time.
I'm so glad your plans for leaving fell through -
just like mine.
Ain't no air conditioning, the ceiling fan don't work
too well.
Guess we'll have to sweat it out again at the
Ballingal Hotel.
One night I knocked on the wrong door
and myself as an old man answered - so drunk
and so poor.
I said I'd never come again to this ugly old hotel -
but what the hell.
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