*Georgia On My Mind- The Mountain Music Of Norman Blake

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Norman Blake Doing "Salty".

CD Review

Far Away, Down On A Georgia Farm, Norman Blake, Shanachie Records, 1999

In recent reviews of “Brother, Where Art Thou?” and “Songcatcher" in this space I mentioned some of the high points of the mountain music revival of the early part of the 2000’s (weird to write that, right?) I noted the name Norman Blake as a premier example of the modern continuation of that tradition. If Hazel Dickens (and Alice Gerrard) represented a strong female voice for the revival of this music then Norman Blake represents the male counterpart.

I also noted in a documentary, “Down The Tracks: The Music That Influenced Bob Dylan”, tracing the roots that influenced his development that one commentator noted that when various ballads (mainly listed in the “Child Ballad” inventory) came over from the old country (England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland) and landed in the Appalachian Mountains they never got out and remained (with many local variations) essentially unchanged for generations. And the musical instruments didn’t change much either-fiddle, guitar and, occasionally a mandolin. But, come Saturday night the competition was fierce to be “king (or, less often, queen) of the hill”. Those points remain true today and it is this tradition that Norman Blake can call his own.

His virtuoso guitar playing has always attracted me since I first heard him long along a local radio program called “Hillbilly At Harvard” (Weird, right? But it had great stuff on it.). He continues that here with some nice instrumentals and a few vocals. The Georgia (and hence the title of my headline) centers on Georgia and the need to either get out or to find his way back to it. An eternal dilemma. Tops here are “Down On The Georgia Farm” and a very funny take on marriage “Give Me Back My Fifteen Cents”.

"Southern Railroad Line"

Standing at the sidetrack at the south end of the town
On a dry hot dusty August day the steam pipe blowing down
The fireman with his long oil can oiling the old valve gear
Waiting for the fast mail train the semaphore to clear.

The engineer in the old high cab his gold watch in his hand
Looking at the water glass and letting down the sand
Rolling out on the old main line and taking up the slack
Gone today so they say but tomorrow he'll be coming back.

Oh if I could return to those boyhood days of mine
And the green light on the southern Southern Railroad Line.

Creeping down the rusty rails of the weed grown branch line
The section houses gray and white by the yard and limit sign
The hoggers call the old highball no more time to wait
Rolling down to Birmingham with a ten car load of freight.

The whistle screamed with a hiss of steam the headlight gleams clear
The drivers roll on the green go getting mighty near
Handing out the orders to the engine crew on time
It's the Alabama Great Southern AGS Railroad Line.

(Chorus)