Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Mary McCaslin Doing "The Abyss".
CD Review
Broken Promises, Mary McCaslin, Philo Records, 1994
This review has also been used for McCaslin's "Broken Promises" CD.
Okay, okay I have had enough. Recently I received a spate of e-mails from aging 1960's folkies asking why, other than one review of Carolyn Hester's work late in 2008, I have not done more reviews of the female folkies of the 1960's. To balance things out I begin to make amends here. To set the framework for my future reviews I repost the germane part of the Carolyn Hester review:
"Earlier this year I posed a question concerning the fates of a group of talented male folk singers like Tom Rush, Tom Paxton and Jesse Colin Young, who, although some of them are still performing or otherwise still on the musical scene have generally fallen off the radar in today's mainstream musical consciousness, except, of course, the acknowledged "king of the hill", Bob Dylan. I want to pose that same question in this entry concerning the talented female folk performers of the 1960's, except, of course, the "queen of the hill" Joan Baez. I will start out by merely rephrasing the first paragraph from the reviews of those male performers.
"If I were to ask someone, in the year 2008, to name a female folk singer from the 1960's I would assume that if I were to get an answer to that question that the name would be Joan Baez (or, maybe, Judy Collins but you get my point). And that would be a good and appropriate choice. One can endlessly dispute whether or not Baez was (or wanted to be) the female voice of the Generation of '68 but in terms of longevity and productivity she fits the bill as a known quality. However, there were a slew of other female folk singers who tried to find their niche in the folk milieu and who, like Baez, may today still quietly continue to produce work and to perform. The artist under review, Carolyn Hester, certainly had the talent to challenge Baez to be "queen of the hill."
Well, as the CD under review will testify to, the singer /songwriter Mary McCaslin also was in contention, back in the days. I am not familiar with the current status of Ms. McCaslin as a performer although I know several years ago I attended a benefit concert to raise funds for her medical needs. Nevertheless I can remember the first time I heard her in a coffeehouse in Cambridge doing Woody Guthrie's "Oklahoma Hills Back Home". And that was appropriate as Ms. McCaslin is certainly in her singing style and her songwriting interests attached to the Western United States. That tradition got an additional acknowledgement in that Cambridge performance when she brought down the house with her version of the country classic "Pass Me By If You're Only Passing Through".
That theme and, in addition, several more inward searching tracks, make this a very representative McCaslin effort. Needless to say “Way Down In Texas” sticks out on the first theme and “The Abyss” on the second. She also does a very fine version of the Beatles tune “Help”. So, all in all, whatever her later personal journey back in the days she could have been a contender for “queen of the hill”. Listen up.
Mary McCaslin - Better Late Than Never
LYRICS
ACRES OF HOUSES
I returned to my home in the valley
After way too many years
I stopped on the road, stepped out of the car
And I almost broke down there in tears
I stood and looked all around me
At the fields where the corn used to be
Two story houses, manicured yards
As far as my eye could see
Chorus:
Acres of houses on farmland
It's the saddest thing I've ever seen
We better start thinking about making a stand
Or we'll all end up on soylent green
While they don't come from south of the border
And they don't come from over the sea
They pack up their babies and move out from town
And they all look just like you and me
It's a grand old new world order
Religion and business take all
Families and brokers divide up the ground
And the meadow turns into a mall
Chorus:
Acres of houses on farmland
It's the saddest thing I've ever seen
We better start thinking about making a stand
Or we'll all end up on soylent green
THE LIGHTS OF SPARTANBURG
I've made a living with the band for 20 years or more
Days and nights from sun to sun out on the road we tour
After the Atlanta show, we drove all through the night
Crossing states to make it home sometime around daylight
You came to mind that night along the South Carolina road
Years of friendship, years of song - a treasury untold
Chorus: And I heard it on the radio
Outside of your hometown
I saw the lights of Spartanburg
the night your plane went down
I saw the lights of Spartanburg
The night your plane went down
Don't you know you made the news; your songs are on the air
I wonder why we wait to lose to show how much we care
Cars and buses, trains and planes, the highway and the sky
Seem to take a toll of names as every year goes by
Chorus: And I heard it on the radio
Outside of your hometown
I saw the lights of Spartanburg
The night your plane went down
I think about that night along the South Carolina road
Maybe from this life you've gone, but never from the fold
Chorus: And I hear the words forever more
Outside of your hometown
I saw the lights of Spartanburg
The night your plane went down
I saw the lights of Spartanburg
The night your plane went down
I saw the lights of Spartanburg
The night your plane went down
SABERS AND GUNS
Turn in your saddle and look back at home one more time
Quiet her fears with a few words that come to your mind
'Keep supper warm', you lied your brave lie when she asked
'We'll end it this evening if the Yankees don't run too damn fast'
Stop by the well, smell the sweet scent of magnolia trees
Take a cool drink of water and last look at all that you leave
Your graceful white mansions, acres of fields and green lawns
Will be ashes and ragweed, gone to seed by the time you return
Chorus: Off to war - oh just look at your hardware
With the brass shining gold in the sun
Ah, but don't you feel strong in your gray uniforms
With your shiny new sabers and guns
Wait on the hill where the road forks to go into town
To be joined by another and another, till a hundred ride down
Ride on together, form a column of soldiers so bold
Ah, the pride of the south is a grand thing indeed to behold
Charge into battle with the flame of youth hot in your breast
An army of children trying hard to be men in the test
And which of your friends stand brave and strong in the fight
And which of your friends will be left in the cold ground tonight
Chorus: Off to war - oh just look at your hardware
With the brass shining gold in the sun
Ah, but don't you feel strong in your gray uniforms
With your shiny new sabers and guns
It's all over now, there's no place to go but back home
To face all your loved ones and the people that once you did own
Plantation kingdoms passed down from fathers to sons
Could not be defended with your shiny new sabers and guns
Could not be defended with your shiny new sabers and guns
STANDING IN THE DOORWAY
Standing in the doorway of the Salvation Army
In a place where you and i could wind up any day
A scarf and sweater in a paper bag she holds so dearly
Treasures for a buck or two that someone threw away
She turns her head to look each way and steps out 0n the sidewalk
Hums a tune from some old song she learned when it was new
Starts her daily round to make a little change and small talk
Rain or shine, out on the street - it's what she has to do
Chorus: On and on the memories keep running through her mind
All the dreams of younger days left so far behind
All it takes to stay alive is give up every pleasure
A monthly check just pays the rent and leaves so little more
Every day she faces those who know they are much better
Sees 'em turns their eyes away when she comes through the door
Once a young girl held the stage with every eye upon her
Someone spent a fortune after almost every show
Now a woman stands alone, a hand out to a stranger
A far cry from the life she led so many years ago
Chorus: On and on the memories keep running through her mind
All the dreams of younger days left so far behind
Passing by the doorway of the Salvation Army
It's easier to move along and look the other way
Never stop and take the time to listen to a story
Or think about where you and I could wind up any day
MISSING
A little girl is missing - the wind begins to blow
Neighbors are out searching, but who will ever know
Why he had to pick her up, along the road that day
And take her to a lonely stop, half a mile away
Lawmen spread out all around, knock on every door
Trackers cover miles of ground, like soldiers off to war
Parents pleading on TV, for anyone to tell
Where their little girl may be, and end this living hell
Updates on the Internet, posters everywhere
Sightings in another state, leads from here and there
Faith becomes insanity - hope becomes despair
A night becomes eternity - a curse becomes a prayer
Seven long months after, she disappeared that day
She turned up where he left her, a half a mile away
The wind becomes a mother's cry, a high and mournful howl
Echoing across the sky, the night begins to fall
CALIFORNIA JOE (Jack Crawford)
Well Folks, I Don't Like Stories; Nor Am I Going To Act
Nor Part Around The Campfire What Ain't A Truthful Fact.
Fill Up Your Pipes And Listen; I'll Tell You -- Let Me See
I Think It Was In '50; From Then Till '63.
You've All Heard Tell Of Bridger? I Used To Ride With Him.
And Many A Hard Day's Scoutin' I Did 'Longside Of Jim;
And Back Near Old Fort Reno, A Trapper Used To Dwell
We Called Him Mad Jack Reynolds; The Scouts All Knew Him Well.
In The Spring Of '50, We Camped On Powder River.
We Killed A Calf Of Buffalo And Cooked A Slice Of Liver.
While Eating, Quite Contented, We Heard Three Shots Or Four
Put Out The Fires And Listened; And We Heard A Dozen More.
We All Knew Old Jack Reynolds Had Moved The Traps Up There.
So Picking Up Our Rifles And Hitching Up Our Gear,
We Moved As Quick As Lightning; To Save Was Our Desire.
Too Late, The Painted Heathens Had Set The Camp On Fire.
We Turned Our Horses Quickly And Waded Down The Stream,
And Close Beside The Water I Heard A Muffled Scream,
And There Among The Bushes A Little Girl Did Lie
I Picked Her Up And Whispered, "I'll Save You Or I'll Die."
God, What A Ride -- Old Bridger Had Covered My Retreat.
Some Times The Child Would Whisper In A Voice So Low And Sweet,
"Dear Papa, God Will Take You To Mama Up Above.
There's No One Left To Love Me; There's No One Left To Love."
The Little Girl Was Thirteen; And I Was Twenty-Two.
Said I, "I'll Be Your Papa, And I'll Love You Just As True."
She Nestled To My Bosom, Her Hazel Eyes So Bright
Looked Up And Made Me Happy Through The Close Pursuit That Night.
One Year Had Passed When Maggie -- We Called Her Hazel Eyes
In Truth Was Going To Leave Me; Had Come To Say Goodbye.
Her Uncle, Mad Jack Reynolds, Long Since Reported Dead
Had Come To Claim My Angel, His Brother's Child, He Said.
What Could I Say? We Parted. Mad Jack Was Growing Old.
I Handed Him A Banknote And All I Had In Gold.
They Rode Away At Sunrise; I Went A Mile Or Two.
In Parting Said, "We'll Meet Again; May God Watch Over You."
While Resting By A Babbling Brook A Little Cabin Stood,
And Weary From The Long Day's Ride I Saw It In The Wood.
The Pleasant Valley Stretched Beyond The Mountains Towered Above
Like Some Painted Picture, Or A Well-Told Tale Of Love.
Drinking In The Sweetness And Resting In The Saddle,
I Heard A Gentle Rippling, Like The Dipping Of A Paddle,
And, Turning Toward The Water, A Strange Sight Met My View
A Pretty Girl Was Seated In A Little Birch Canoe.
She Stood Up In The Center, Her Rifle To Her Eye.
I Thought For Just A Moment My Time Had Come To Die,
So I Tipped My Hat And Told Her, If It Was All The Same,
To Drop Her Little Shooter, As I Was Not Her Game.
She Dropped Her Deadly Weapon And She Leaped From Her Canoe.
She Said, "I Beg Your Pardon; I Thought You Were A Sioux.
Your Long Hair And Your Buckskins Looked Warrior-Like And Rough.
My Bead Was Spoiled By Sunlight, Or I'd 'A Killed You Sure Enough."
"Well, Perhaps It Would Be Better Had You Killed Me Here" Said I.
"For Surely Such An Angel Could Bear Me To The Sky."
She Blushed And Dropped Her Eyelids; Her Face Was Crimson Red.
One Shy Glance She Gave Me And Then Hung Down Her Head.
Then Her Arm Flew 'Round Me. "I'll Save You Or I'll Die."
I Held Her To My Bosom, My Long-Lost Hazel Eyes.
The Rapture Of That Moment Was Heaven Unto Me.
I Kissed Her Then, Amid Her Tears, Her Merriment And Glee.
Her Heart 'Gainst Mine Was Beating When Sobbingly She Said,
"My Dear Long-Lost Preserver, They Told Me You Were Dead.
The Man Who Claimed Me From You, My Uncle, Good And True
Lies Ill In Yonder Cabin, And He Talks So Much Of You."
"'If Joe Were Living, Darling,' He Said To Me Last Night,
"'He'd Care For You, Dear Maggie, When God Puts Out My Light.'"
We Found The Old Man Sleeping; "Hush, Maggie -- Let Him Rest."
The Sun Was Slowly Sinking In The Far-Off Golden West.
Although We Spoke In Whispers, He Opened Up His Eyes.
"A Dream, A Dream," He Murmured, "Alas! A Dream Of Lies."
She Drifted Like A Shadow To Where The Old Man Lay
"You've Had A Dream, Dear Uncle, Another Dream Today."
"Oh Yes I Saw An Angel, As Pure As Drifted Snow,
And Standing Close Beside Her Was California Joe."
She Said, "I'm Not An Angel, Dear Uncle, This You Know;
"These Little Hands And This Face Were Never White As Snow."
"But Listen While I Tell You, For I Have News To Cheer
Your Hazel Eyes Is Happy, For Truly Joe Is Here."
Then, But A Few Days Later, The Old Man Said To Me,
"Joe, Boy, She Is An Angel, Or As Good As Angels Be."
"For Three Long Months She's Hunted, And, Joe, She's Nursed Me Too;
"And I Believe That She'll Be Safe Alone, My Boy, With You."
Then, But A Few Days Later, Maggie -- My Wife -- And I
Went Riding From That Valley With Teardrops In Our Eyes.
For There Beside The Cabin, Within A New-Made Grave,
We Laid Him 'Neath The Daisies, Her Uncle, Good And Brave.
Hereafter, Every Gentle Spring Will Surely Find Us There,
At His Graveside In The Valley. We'll Keep It Fresh And Fair.
Our Love Was Newly Kindled While Resting By The Stream,
And Two Hearts Were United In Love's Sweet Happy Dream,
And Now You've Heard My Story; And This You Ought To Know
That Hazel Eyes Is Happy With California Joe.
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