*They'll Be Coming Around The Mountain-Again- The Music Of Appalachia

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Soggy Mountain Boys Doing "Man Of Constant Sorrow".

CD REVIEW

Man Of Constant Sorrow and Other Timeless Ballads, various artists, Yazoo, 2002

Recently I was listening to a local talk show here in Boston in which the subject was which way at least part of the American music scene was headed. One of the premises of the show was that roots music, you know, the blues, jazz, and the mountain music presented here in this album was once again going to form the new “in " music. Fair enough. These genres have been mined before for their expressions of Americana and they can be mined in the future for that same purpose. But here is the question that I have that underlies that above-mentioned radio show premise. What is it about “roots” music, and here I want to concentrate on mountain music, that reaches out to many generations, social classes and tastes far removed from those craggy coal-laden hills of Appalachia and other isolated regions of the country?

Well one reason for this reviewer, as least, is that confirmed urbanite that he is a little scratch at his “roots” reveals a father who grew up in the coal mining regions of Kentucky and whose extended family mined the coal back into some mists of memory. Scratch your family tree, especially if your family has been here a few generations and you might find some mountain there too. But enough of that as a reason. How about simple lyrics that talk of hard lives, longing, love, death, hard death, tragic death, death by many means not as a strange outside thing but as very personally expressed ways of understanding the world in the land of the hollows and creeks. Add to that the obligatory fiddle, maybe a mandolin, or other handmade musical instrument of choice and you have an idea, or the beginning of an idea, of the appeal of this music today. Hell, some of it in the end is just music to be social on those long lonesome Saturday nights after a hard week of work and (in the beginning) before radio took center stage. We leave off the dissertation with that said.

As always the question on any compilation, especially as here we are dealing with very old tracks from some very old records produced in the 1920’s and 1930’s, is what is worth listening to. Well, my number one choice here is the two-part “The Island Unknown” by Eck Robertson and Family that closes out this CD. Jesus, even to this hardened city boy this is hauntingly beautiful. How about Buell Kazee on “John Hardy”. It has been done a million times but listen to this version of the story, it is a little different. And of course the also well-covered title song “Man Of Constant Sorrow”. This is good stuff. By the way, when your friends come and try to high hat you with their knowledge of the “in” music just run this little CD at them.

Willie Moore

Willie Moore was a king, his age twenty-one,
He courted a damsel fair;
O, her eyes was as bright as the diamonds every night,
And wavy black was her hair.

He courted her both night and day,
'Til to marry they did agree;
But when he came to get her parents consent,
They said it could never be.

She threw herself in Willie Moore's arms,
As oftime had done before;
But little did he think when they parted that night,
Sweet Anna he would see no more.

It was about the tenth of May,
The time I remember well;
That very same night, her body disappeared
In a way no tongue could tell.

Sweet Annie was loved both far and near,
Had friends most all around;
And in a little brook before the cottage door,
The body of sweet Anna was found.

She was taken by her weeping friends,
And carried to her parent's room,
And there she was dressed in a gown of snowy white,
And laid her in a lonely tomb.

Her parents now are left all alone,
One mourns while the other one weeps;
And in a grassy mound before the cottage door,
The body of sweet Anna still sleeps.

[Willie Moore never spoke that anyone heard,
And at length from his friends did part,
And the last heard from him, he'd gone to Montreal,
Where he died of a broken heart.]

This song was composed in the flowery West
By a man you may never have seen;
O, I'll tell you his name, but it is not in full,
His initials are J.R.D.4

A Man Of Constant Sorrow: Soggy Bottom Boys.

(In constant sorrow through his days.)

I am a man of constant sorrow,
I've seen trouble all my day.
I bid farewell to old Kentucky,
The place where I was born and raised.
(The place where he was born and raised )

For six long years I've been in trouble,
No pleasures here on earth I found.
For in this world I'm bound to ramble,
I have no friends to help me now.
(He has no friends to help him now.)

It's fare thee well my old lover.
I never expect to see you again.
For I'm bound to ride that northern railroad,
Perhaps I'll die upon this train.
(Perhaps he'll die upon this train.)

You can bury me in some deep valley,
For many years where I may lay.
Then you may learn to love another,
While I am sleeping in my grave.
(While he is sleeping in his grave.)

Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face, you'll never see no more.
But there is one promise that is given
I'll meet you on God's golden shore.
(He'll meet you on God's golden shore.)

LYRICS AS REPRINTED IN ALAN LOMAX, FOLK SONGS OF NORTH AMERICA, GARDEN CITY, 1960, pp. 271-273:

John Hardy was a brave little man,
He carried two guns ev'ry day.
Killed him a man in the West Virginia land,
Oughta seen poor Johnny gettin' away, Lord, Lord,
Oughta seen poor Johnny gettin' away.
John Hardy was standin' at the barroom door,
He didn't have a hand in the game,
Up stepped his woman and threw down fifty cents,
Says, "Deal my man in the game, Lord, Lord...."

John Hardy lost that fifty cents,
It was all he had in the game,
He drew the forty-four that he carried by his side
Blowed out that poor Negro's brains, Lord, Lord....

John Hardy had ten miles to go,
And half of that he run,
He run till he come to the broad river bank,
He fell to his breast and he swum, Lord, Lord....

He swum till he came to his mother's house,
"My boy, what have you done?"
"I've killed a man in the West Virginia Land,
And I know that I have to be hung, Lord, Lord...."

He asked his mother for a fifty-cent piece,
"My son, I have no change."
"Then hand me down my old forty-four
And I'll blow out my agurvatin' [sic] brains, Lord, Lord...."

John Hardy was lyin' on the broad river bank,
As drunk as a man could be;
Up stepped the police and took him by the hand,
Sayin' "Johnny, come and go with me, Lord, Lord...."

John Hardy had a pretty little girl,
The dress she wore was blue.
She come a-skippin' through the old jail hall
Sayin', "Poppy, I'll be true to you, Lord, Lord...."

John Hardy had another little girl,
The dress that she wore was red,
She came a-skippin' through the old jail hall
Sayin' "Poppy, I'd rather be dead, Lord, Lord...."

They took John Hardy to the hangin' ground,
They hung him there to die.
The very last words that poor boy said,
"My forty gun never told a lie, Lord, Lord...."

JOHN HENRY

Some say he's from Georgia,
Some say he's from Alabam,

But it's wrote on the rock at the Big Ben Tunnel,

That he's an East Virginia Man,

That he's an East Virginia man.

John Henry was a steel drivin' man,
He died with a hammah in his han',

Oh, come along boys and line the track

For John Henry ain't never comin' back,

For John Henry ain't never comin' back.

John Henry he could hammah,
He could whistle, he could sing,

He went to the mountain early in the mornin'

To hear his hammah ring,

To hear his hammah ring.

John Henry went to the section boss,
Says the section boss what kin you do?

Says I can line a track, I kin histe a jack,

I kin pick and shovel too,

I kin pick and shovel too.

John Henry told the cap'n,
When you go to town,

Buy me a nine pound hammah

An' I'll drive this steel drill down,

An' I'll drive this steel drill down.

Cap'n said to John Henry,
You've got a willin' mind.

But you just well lay yoh hammah down,

You'll nevah beat this drill of mine,

You'll nevah beat this drill of mine.



John Henry went to the tunnel
And they put him in lead to drive,

The rock was so tall and John Henry so small

That he laid down his hammah and he cried,

That he laid down his hammah and he cried.

The steam drill was on the right han' side,
John Henry was on the left,

Says before I let this steam drill beat me down,

I'll hammah myself to death,

I'll hammah myself to death.

Oh the cap'n said to John Henry,
I bleeve this mountain's sinkin' in.

John Henry said to the cap'n, Oh my!

Tain't nothin' but my hammah suckin' wind,

Tain't nothin' but my hammah suckin' wind.

John Henry had a cute liddle wife,
And her name was Julie Ann,

And she walk down the track and nevah look back,

Goin' to see her brave steel drivin' man,

Goin' to see her brave steel drivin' man.

John Henry had a pretty liddle wife,
She come all dressed in blue.

And the last words she said to him,

John Henry I been true to you,

John Henry I been true to you.

John Henry was on the mountain,
The mountain was so high,

He called to his pretty liddle wife,

Said Ah kin almos' touch the sky,

Said Ah kin almos' touch the sky.

Who gonna shoe yoh pretty liddle feet,
Who gonna glove yoh han',

Who gonna kiss yoh rosy cheeks,

An' who gonna be yoh man,

An' who gonna be yoh man?



Papa gonna shoe my pretty liddle feet,
Mama gonna glove my han',

Sistah gonna kiss my rosy cheeks,

An' I ain't gonna have no man,

An' I ain't gonna have no man.

Then John Henry told huh,
Don't you weep an' moan,

I got ten thousand dollars in the First National Bank,

I saved it to buy you a home,

I saved it to buy you a home.

John Henry took his liddle boy,
Sit him on his knee,

Said that Big Ben Tunnel

Gonna be the death of me,

Gonna be the death of me.

John Henry took that liddle boy,
Helt him in the pahm of his han',

And the last words he said to that chile was,

I want you to be a steel drivin' man,

I want you to be a steel drivin' man.

John Henry ast that liddle boy,
Now what are you gonna be?

Says if I live and nothin' happen,

A steel drivin' man I'll be,

A steel drivin' man I'll be.

Then John Henry he did hammah,
He did make his hammah soun',

Says now one more lick fore quittin' time,

An' I'll beat this steam drill down,

An' I'll beat this steam drill down.

The hammah that John Henry swung,
It weighed over nine poun',

He broke a rib in his left han' side,

And his intrels fell on the groun',

And his intrels fell on the groun'.



All the women in the West
That heard of John Henry's death,

Stood in the rain, flagged the east bound train,

Goin' where John Henry dropped dead,

Goin' where John Henry dropped dead.

John Henry's liddle mother
Was all dressed in red,

She jumped in bed, covered up her head,

Said I didn't know my boy was dead,

Said I didn't know my boy was dead.

They took John Henry to the White House,
And buried him in the san',

And every locomotive come roarin' by,

Says there lays that steel drivin' man,

Says there lays that steel drivin' man.

The Roots Of Urban Folk


*They'll Be Coming Around The Mountain-Again- The Music Of Appalachia