The Centennial Of Pete Seeger’s Birthday (1919-2014)- *Legends Of The Country Blues Tradition

DVD REVIEWS

February Is Black History Month

Legends Of The Country Blues, Vol. 1, Vestapol Productions, 2002

I have spent some considerable effort in this space reviewing various trends in the blues tradition, including country blues. As is fairly well known country blues got its start down in the South during the early part of the 20th century (if not earlier) as a way for blacks (mainly) to cope with the dreaded, deadly work on the plantations (picking that hard to pick cotton). In this volume (and a second volume that will be reviewed separately) Stefan Grossman, the renowned guitar teacher and performer in his own right has taken old film clips and segments from early television and produced an hour of classic performances by the masters of country blues guitar picking and singing (Sorry, no women players presented in these productions, although there were a few. Women blues singers came into their own a little later.).

Country acoustic blues guitar playing was a central form of entertainment for those who lives in the country, desperately needed entertainment during and after work and for the most part had no access to electricity. Thus, this favored form of entertainment was provided in the backwoods “juke joints” where the whiskey, women and words came fast and furious after a hard work week. A small body of men, mainly in Mississippi, but also elsewhere in the South (notably Texas and North Carolina) fought to be “king of the blues”. And the qualifications to win that title included being able to wield that old National Steel guitar for all it was worth and sing something about two-timing women, the rascally boss or overseer or just plain not having any money to show for the week’s work after that Saturday nights bout. In this volume the “king of the hill” is one Son House. This film contains the famous television performance of House’s "Death Letter Blues". It is mesmerizing as he flails away at that old National Steel guitar and trance-like invokes the ghost of his dead woman friend whom he has come to regret treating so badly.

Also present here are other classic performers such as Mississippi John Hurt, one of the key influences on the Northern urban folk revival of the early 1960’s, and his quiet style of picking and singing: Josh White with his more urbane, almost jazz-like style; Big Bill Broonzy, a performer worthy of more extensive separate comment, in several pieces; Mance Lipscomb and his Texas style: and the Reverend Gary Davis and his clean picking and deeply religious moanings. I might note that some of the performances were done on a show that Pete Seeger hosted so that is an added treat although he, and others, are reduced to looking on in awe. That seems about right. This DVD is useful both for the experienced guitar player who is looking to see how the masters did it and for those novices unfamiliar with this kind of music as a good potpourri of styles to introduce the genre.

Legends Of The Country Blues, Vol. 2, Vestapol Productions, 2002

Part of this review has been used in a separate review of Volume One.

I have spent some considerable effort in this space reviewing various trends in the blues tradition, including country blues. As is fairly well known country blues got its start down in the South during the early part of the 20th century (if not earlier) as a way for blacks (mainly, although here Sam Chatman is given some space I think to represent the mountain music contribution to this rural music) to cope with the dreaded, deadly work on the plantations (picking that hard to pick cotton). In this volume (and a first volume that has been reviewed separately) Stefan Grossman, the renowned guitar teacher and performer in his own right has taken old film clips and segments from early television and produced an hour of classic performances by the masters of country blues guitar picking and singing (Sorry, no women players presented in these productions, although there were a few. Women blues singers came into their own a little later.).

Country acoustic blues guitar playing was a central form of entertainment for those who lives in the country, desperately needed entertainment during and after work and for the most part had no access to electricity. Thus, this favored form of entertainment was provided in the backwoods “juke joints” where the whiskey, women and words came fast and furious after a hard work week. A small body of men, mainly in Mississippi, but also elsewhere in the South (notably Texas and North Carolina) fought to be “king of the blues”. And the qualifications to win that title included being able to wield that old National Steel guitar for all it was worth and sing something about two-timing women, the rascally boss or overseer or just plain not having any money to show for the week’s work after that Saturday nights bout.

In this volume the “king of the hill” is one Bukka White. Son House the star of Volume One is relegated to second place here as Bukka just flat out plays that old guitar better, with more feeling and a better sense of showmanship in presenting the material. "Aberdeen Mississippi Women" is an extremely good example of his mastery. I have mentioned in a previous review that Bukka White was not as familiar to me and those who I know who share my interest in the blues. That deserves immediate correction and Brother White will certainly be the subject of a later, separate entry in this space.

Also included here is the previously mentioned Son House, again flailing away for all he is worth; The Reverend Gary Davis demonstrating his prowess as a guitarist: Huston Stackhouse with his playful voice; Big Joe Williams being, well, Big Joe with some guitar that I could not count the number of strings on (as usual); and, Lead Belly. Lead Belly, who may have been one of the most well-known black country blues performers of all time (certainly through his connection to "Goodnight, Irene"), is rather flat here. Too bad. There are better clips of his performances elsewhere.

Happy Birthday Mississippi John Hurt *Sweet and Low- The Blues of Skip James-Part One

Happy Birthday To You-

By Lester Lannon

I am devoted to a local folk station WUMB which is run out of the campus of U/Mass-Boston over near Boston Harbor. At one time this station was an independent one based in Cambridge but went under when their significant demographic base deserted or just passed on once the remnant of the folk minute really did sink below the horizon.

So much for radio folk history except to say that the DJs on many of the programs go out of their ways to commemorate or celebrate the birthdays of many folk, rock, blues and related genre artists. So many and so often that I have had a hard time keeping up with noting those occurrences in this space which after all is dedicated to such happening along the historical continuum.

To “solve” this problem I have decided to send birthday to that grouping of musicians on an arbitrary basis as I come across their names in other contents or as someone here has written about them and we have them in the archives. This may not be the best way to acknowledge them, but it does do so in a respectful manner.    

 *************

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Skip James Doing "Devil Got My Woman" At The Newport Folk Festival in 1966.


CD REVIEW


Devil Got My Woman, Skip James, Vanguard records, 1991

"I'd Rather Be The Devil Than Be That Woman's Man"

The last time that I used this above-titled headline was in a commentary related to Senator Hillary Clinton's late presidential campaign and I caught hell from my feminist friends for it. So I add here blues singer/songwriter Rory Block's translation on her cover version for "political correctness". Okay? "I'd Rather Be The Devil, Than Be A Woman To That Man." I would add, that one is dealing with the blues we are not talking about any kind of sense of political correctness but the primordial longings unvarnished by the political niceties of that day or this. But enough of that. Let's talk about the legendary Skip James' work.

For those who saw Martin Scorsese's six-part blues series on PBS you know that one of the segments was directed by Wim Wender's who chose the work of Skip James as a subject for presentation. There Skip's very short recording career (as it turns out early recording career) was highlighted. As others have mentioned Skip James was a Baptist preacher, not a professional musician, so aside from the incredible recordings he made for Paramount Records in 1931, he wasn't widely sought after as a performer until the blues revival of the late '50s and early '60s. At that time he came front and center with fellow "discovered" artists like Mississippi John Hurt, Bukka White and Son House. That is the company he properly belongs in and should be compared to.

The contents of this CD only confirm that evaluation. His great falsetto voice accompanied by guitar or piano (as a nice change up) hold forth here. Interestingly, the CD features newer arrangements of several songs from James' 1931 Paramount recording, like the well-known title track "Devil Got My Woman" that got me into political trouble. There are also some moodier songs for piano here like the "22-20 Blues" and "Careless Love". Here, though, is the "skinny" on James. Like a number of blues artists you have to be in the mood and be patience. Then you don't want to turn the damn thing off. That is the case here.

Happy Birthday Mississippi John Hurt-*Sweet and Low- The Blues of Skip James-Part Three

Happy Birthday To You-

By Lester Lannon

I am devoted to a local folk station WUMB which is run out of the campus of U/Mass-Boston over near Boston Harbor. At one time this station was an independent one based in Cambridge but went under when their significant demographic base deserted or just passed on once the remnant of the folk minute really did sink below the horizon.

So much for radio folk history except to say that the DJs on many of the programs go out of their ways to commemorate or celebrate the birthdays of many folk, rock, blues and related genre artists. So many and so often that I have had a hard time keeping up with noting those occurrences in this space which after all is dedicated to such happening along the historical continuum.

To “solve” this problem I have decided to send birthday to that grouping of musicians on an arbitrary basis as I come across their names in other contents or as someone here has written about them and we have them in the archives. This may not be the best way to acknowledge them, but it does do so in a respectful manner.    

Happy Birthday Mississippi John Hurt-*Sweet and Low- The Blues of Skip James-Part Three

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Skip James Doing "Crow Jane".


Heroes Of The Blues: The Very Best Of Skip James, Skip James, Shout Factory, 2003


The contents of this CD only confirm Skip's power. His great falsetto voice accompanied by guitar or piano (as a nice change up) hold forth here. Interestingly, the CD features newer arrangements of several songs from James' 1931 Paramount recording, like the well-known title track "61 Highway” (this is the most fervent rendition of several that I have heard on various CD compilations. By the way Mississippi Fred McDowell does a tanked up version of this one, as well). There are also some moodier songs for piano here like the "22-20 Blues" and "Illinois Blues”. Also featured here is the classic “I’m So Glad” that Cream turned into a rock classic. The killer on this one though is the haunting “Cherry Ball Blues”. Here is the “skinny” though on James. Like a number of blues artists you have to be in the mood and be patience. Then you don’t want to turn the damn thing off. That is the case here.

Happy Birthday Mississippi John Hurt- *Sweet and Low- The Blues of Skip James-Part Two

Happy Birthday To You-

By Lester Lannon

I am devoted to a local folk station WUMB which is run out of the campus of U/Mass-Boston over near Boston Harbor. At one time this station was an independent one based in Cambridge but went under when their significant demographic base deserted or just passed on once the remnant of the folk minute really did sink below the horizon.

So much for radio folk history except to say that the DJs on many of the programs go out of their ways to commemorate or celebrate the birthdays of many folk, rock, blues and related genre artists. So many and so often that I have had a hard time keeping up with noting those occurrences in this space which after all is dedicated to such happening along the historical continuum.

To “solve” this problem I have decided to send birthday to that grouping of musicians on an arbitrary basis as I come across their names in other contents or as someone here has written about them and we have them in the archives. This may not be the best way to acknowledge them, but it does do so in a respectful manner.    

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Skip James Doing "Hard Times Killin' Floor Blues". Wow.


The Complete Early Recordings of Skip James-1930, Skip James, Yazoo, 1994


The contents of this CD only confirm Skip's power. His great falsetto voice accompanied by guitar or piano (as a nice change up) hold forth here. Interestingly, the CD features newer arrangements of several songs from James' 1931 Paramount recording, like the well-known title track "Devil Got My Woman" that got me into political trouble (this is the most fervent rendition of several that I have heard on various CD compilations). There are also some moodier songs for piano here like the "22-20 Blues" and "Illinois Blues”. Also featured here is the classic “I’m So Glad” that Cream turned into a rock classic. The killer on this one though is the haunting “Cherry Ball Blues”. Here is the “skinny” though on James. Like a number of blues artists you have to be in the mood and be patience. Then you don’t want to turn the damn thing off. That is the case here.

When The Juke Joints Rocked And Nobody Cared About The Electricity-Delta Blues- And Then Some

When The Juke Joints Rocked And Nobody Cared About The Electricity-Delta Blues- And Then Some


Click On Title To Link To Rounder Records Web Page.

CD Review

Southern Journey, Highway 61, Mississippi Fred McDowell and various artists, Rounder Records, 1997

I have spent a fair amount of time recently reviewing, individually and on various artist compilations, performers from the 1960’s urban folk revival. You know, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Dave Van Ronk, Eric Von Schmidt and the like. I have also reviewed the earlier performers who influenced them on the more traditional folk side like Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. There was another component of that search for roots that entailed heading south to the Mississippi Delta (or the hills of North Carolina) and getting ‘religion’ on the black country blues scene.

I mentioned in a review of the performers who influenced the 1960’s urban folk scene that it did not fall from the sky but had been transmitted by earlier performers. That, my friends, applies as well to the search for the blues. I also mentioned that we all, later when we understood things better, appreciated that John and Allan Lomax did yeomen’s service to roots music by their travels into the hinterlands in the 1930’s and 1940’s (and had Pete Seeger tag along for a year and thus serve as a little transmission belt to the latter generation) to find blues, mountain and other types of American traditional music. However, most of us got our country blues infusion second-hand through our addiction to local coffeehouses and the performers who provided us entertainment. They, in turn, learned their material from the masters who populate this CD.

This CD compilation is filled with the legends of the genre like the renowned Mississippi Fred McDowell (a major influence on and mentor of Bonnie Raitt). Moreover it contains fife and drum music from North Mississippi, which can be traced back to the African roots, and work songs that do not get nearly enough attention (including by this reviewer) as the work of the Delta artists like McDowell, Son House, John Hurt and Bukka White. Nicely done.

Devil Got My Woman lyrics

You know, I'd rather be the ol' devil
Well, I'd rather be the devil
Then to be that woman' man
You know, rather be the devil
Than to be that woman' man

You know, I'm so sorry
You know, so sorry
That I ever fell in love wit' you-ooo-hoo-oo
Because you know you don't treat me
Baby, like you used ta do-hoo

You know, I laid down last night
You know, I laid down last night
And I thought to take me some rest
But my mind got to rambling
Like a wild geese from the west

You know the woman that I love
The woman that I love
I stol't her from my best friend
But you know he done got lucky
An he done got her back, again

You know, I used to cut your kindleing
You know, I used to cut your kindleing
Baby, then I made you some fire
Then I would tote all your water
Way, way, way, from the bogy brier

You know, my baby she don't drink whiskey
My baby, she don't drink no whiskey
An I know she ain't crazy about wine
Now, it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done changed my baby's mind

You know, I could be right
You know, I could be right
Then again, I could be wrong
But it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done got my baby
Now he done gone.

I'm So Glad lyrics

Eee, an I'm so glad
Yes sir, I'm glad
Until I just don't know
What to do

An I am tired a-weeping
I'm so tired a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you

(guitar)

Eee, an I am so -
Yes, I am mighty glad
Until I just don't know what -

Would you be my little darlin'?
Would you be my dear?
Would you be my darlin'
Be my dear?

Then I would be mighty -
I would be mighty glad
Then I just wouldn't know
What to do

When I say, 'Coo-coo-coo'
Just like a little baby, do
I would love to have
A lovely kiss from you

Then I would be mighty -
Then I would be so -
Until I just wouldn't know -

You know, I'm tired a-weeping
I'm so tired of a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you

(guitar)

Eee, an I am so glad
Yes, I'm so glad
Until I just don't know
What to do-ooo-woo-ooo-ooo.

Cherry Ball Blues lyrics

I love my little cherry ball
Better than I love myself
I love my cherry ball
Better than I love myself
Then if she don't love me
She can't love nobody else

Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
You know, what it take to get her back
I carries it ev'ryday

Now, I left cherry ball standin'
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Now, I left cherry ball
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Of course, I feel her condition
But her trouble ain't none a-mine

She's just like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
She's like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
You know, she done quit me
She quit me without a cause

Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
You know, that I love her
But her disposition I do dispise

Now, you can take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
Now, you take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
I'm gon' ride an gon' ramble
'Till cherry ball come back to me

She got to come on back home to me-ee-ee.

Son House - Death Letter lyrics

Lyrics to Death Letter :

I got a letter this mornin, how do you reckon it read?
It said, "Hurry, hurry, yeah, your love is dead"
I got a letter this mornin, I say how do you reckon it read?
You know, it said, "Hurry, hurry, how come the gal you love is dead?"

So, I grabbed up my suitcase, and took off down the road
When I got there she was layin on a coolin' board
I grabbed up my suitcase, and I said and I took off down the road
I said, but when I got there she was already layin on a coolin' board

Well, I walked up right close, looked down in her face
Said, the good ol' gal got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day
I walked up right close, and I said I looked down in her face
I said the good ol' gal, she got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day

Looked like there was 10,000 people standin' round the buryin' ground
I didn't know I loved her 'til they laid her down
Looked like 10,000 were standin' round the buryin' ground
You know I didn't know I loved her 'til they damn laid her down

Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
I wouldn't mistreat you baby, for my weight in gold
I said, Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
You know I wouldn't mistreat nobody, baby, not for my weight in gold

Well, I folded up my arms and I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell honey, I'll see you on Judgment Day"
Ah, yeah, oh, yes, I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell, farewell, I'll see you on the Judgment Day"

You know I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
The blues came along and drove my spirit away
I went in my room, I said I bowed down to pray
I said the blues came along and drove my spirit away

You know I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around
I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
You know, I didn't have nobody to throw my arms around

I loved you baby, like I love myself
You don't have me, you won't have nobody else
I loved you baby, better than I did myself
I said now if you don't have me, I didn't want you to have nobody else

You know, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
Ain't no satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Yeah, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
You know it don't look like satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do

Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where she used to lay
Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where my good gal used to lay

Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
You know, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
Yeah, you know bout that, I must-a had them old walkin' blues

You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', so I don't have to cry no more
You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', you see, so I don't have to cry no more

Ah, hush, thought I heard her call my name
If it wasn't so loud and so nice and plain
Ah, yeah
Mmmmmm

Well, listen, whatever you do
This is one thing, honey, I tried to get along with you
Yes, no tellin' what you do
I done everything I could, just to try and get along with you

Well, the minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
It seemed like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways
Minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
Seems like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways

You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes leaves you feeling sad and blue
You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes make you feel sad and blue

Son House - Preachin' Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Preachin' Blues :

Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
I'm gonna be a Baptist preacher, and I sure won't have to work

Oh, I'm a-preach these blues, and I, I want everybody to shout
I want everybody to shout
I'm gonna do like a prisoner, I'm gonna roll my time on out

Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Till the blues come along, and they blowed my spirit1 away

Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
But the womens and whiskey, well, they would not set me free

Oh, I wish I had me a heaven of my own
Hey, a heaven of my own
Till I'd give all my women a long, long, happy home

hey, I love my baby, just like I love myself
Oh, just like I love myself
Well, if she don't have me, she won't have nobody else

Son House - Pony Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Pony Blues :

Why don't you catch my pony, now saddle up my black mare?
...my pony, saddle up, up my black mare?
You know, I'm gonna find my baby, well, in the world somewhere

You know, he's a travelin' horse, an' he's too black bad
He's a travelin' pony, I declare, he's too black bad
You know, he got a gait, now, no Shetlan' ain't never had

You know, I taken him by the rein an' I led him around and 'round
I say, I taken him by the reins an' I, I led him, him 'round and 'round
You know, he ain't the best in the world, but he's the best ever been in this town

You know, he's a travelin' horse and he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony and he don't deny his name
You know, the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame

Why don't you come up here, pony, now come on, please let's us go
I said, "Come up, get up now, please pony, now let's us go"
Let's we saddle on down on the Gulf of, of Mexico

You know, the horse that I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
I say, the pony I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
You know, a horse with them many gaits, you know, I'm bound to win the race

He's a travelin' horse an' he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony, he don't deny his name
the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame


Aberdeen Mississippi 2:33 Trk 9

Bukka White (Booker T. Washington White)
Bukka White - vocal & guitar
& Washboard Sam (Robert Brown) - wshbrd.
Recorded: March 7th & 8th 1940 Chicago, Illinois
Album: Parchman Farm Blues, Roots RTS 33055
Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com


I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
Them Aberdeen women told me
Will buy my gasoline

Hey, two little women
That I ain't ever seen
They has two little women
That I ain't never seen
These two little women
Just from New Orlean

Ooh, sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
I'm sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
Well, I believe them Aberdeen women
Gonna make me lose my mind, yeah

(slide guitar & washboard)

Aber-deen is my home
But the mens don't want me around
Aberdeen is my home
But the men don't want me around
They know I will take these women
An take them outta town

Listen, you Aberdeen women
You know I ain't got no dime
Oh-oh listen you women
You know'd I ain't got no dime
They been had the po' boy
All up and down.

(guitar & washboard to end)


Fixin' To Die Blues lyrics

I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
And I believe I'm fixin' to die
Believe I'm fixin' to die
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
Now, I believe I'm fixin' to die, yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah

Just as sho' we live
It's a, sho' we's born to die
Sho' we's born to die
Just as sho's we live
Sho' we's born to die
Yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah

Yo mother treated me, children
Like I was her baby child
Was her baby child
Yo mother treated me
Like I was her baby child
That's why's I sighed
Sighed so hard
And come back home to die
Yeah

So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
How my chillen's mother would cry
So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
Yeah
'Cause I told the mother I had to say, goodbye

Look over yon-der
On the buryin' ground
On the buryin' ground
Look over yonder, on the burying ground
Yon' stand ten thousand
Standin' still to let me down
Yeah

(washboard & guitar)

Mother, take my chillen back
Before they let me down
Before they let me down
Mother, take my chillen back
'Fore they let me down
Ain't no need a-them screamin' an cryin'
On the graveyard ground.

(washboard & guitar to end)


Shake 'em On Down lyrics

Yes, you're a nice girl, mama
And little girl
Night before day
We gonna
Shake 'em on down

I need some time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down

Too much is debted to me
Through the week
Save these chili peppers
Some ol' rainy day, here

Best I'm hollerin', now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down, now

Fix my supper
Let me go to bed
This white lightnin' done gone
To my head

Oh, must I holler now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down

I ain't been in Georgia, babe
I been told
Georgia women got the best
Jellyroll

These nights time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down

See See mama, heard
You, done-done
Made me love you, now I know
Man done coming

Best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down

Pretty girl's got
They don't know
What it is
Make me drunk at that old
Whiskey still

It's best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin'
Must I shake 'em on down.

Poor Boy Long Way From Home by Bukka White Lyrics

Poor boy a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
I don't have no happy home to go home to

When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
She wanna know, 'Daddy, when you comin' back home?'

(guitar)

They got me down here on the farm
Got me down here on old farm
I don't have no one to come and go my bail
Baby, I wanna come back home to you

(guitar)

Sorry, baby I can't call you over the phone
Sorry, I can't call you over the phone
'Cause they got me down here long distance phone
But I can't call you baby over the phone.

(guitar to end)

*When The Sun Goes Down, Indeed!- The Blues Back In The Days

Click On The Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Tommy Johnson Performing The Politically Incorrect (Right?)"Big Fat Mama Blues".

CD Review

When The Sun Goes Down: The First Time I Met The Blues, various artists, BMG Music, 2002

In the course of the past year or so I have highlighted any number of blues CD compilations as I have tried to search for the roots of the American musical experience, and in the process retraced some of the nodal points of my own musical interests. I never tire of saying that I have been formed, and reformed by the blues so that when I came upon this “When The Sun Goes Down” series (a very apt expression of the right time for playing the blues) I grabbed each copy with both hands. In one series, the producers, as an act of love without question, have gathered up the obscure, the forgotten, the almost forgotten and the never to be forgotten voices that “spoke” to me in my youth and started me on that long ago love affair with the blues. I have hardly been alone on that journey but it is nice to see that some people with the resources, the time, money and energy have seen fit to honor our common past. Each CD reviewed here, and any future ones that I can get my hands on for there are more than the three I am reviewing today, is chock full of memorable performances by artists who now will, through the marvels of modern high technology, gain a measure of justified immortality.

Here is the cream. I swear, if I have some time, I will do real justice to the influence of one Victoria Spivey. For now though feast upon her youthful version of her composition “Telephoning The Blues”. Today the phrasing would probably require “Text-messaging The Blues” but anyway you put it old Victoria’s got them, and got them bad. The name Tommy Johnson should be more widely known today than it is. Blues performer and archivist Rory Block had covered a few of his songs many years ago but he deserves ‘re-discovery’, especially on this alcohol-related topical number “Canned Heat Blues”. This is the real stuff from the edges of society down in the hobo jungles. It is a tough dollar there, and that ain't no lie.

I only need to mention Blind Willie McTell here slightly as he is one of the few old voices that has not been forgotten, especially on the much covered, and deservedly so, “Statesboro Blues”. I have recently gotten back into that hybrid blues/folk sound produced by jug band music in reviews of Jim Kweskin, Maria Muldaur and Geoff Muldaur from the 1960’s Jim Kweskin and the Jug Band. Well, where do you think they got some of their material from? Natch, the Memphis Jug Band here doing the old classic “Stealin’, Stealin'” (ya, I love that phrase “stealin' back to my used-to-be” too) and “Cocaine Blues” (when it was legal, of course).

Anything done by Texas bluesman Furry Lewis is good (think of those “Cassie Jones”’, parts one and two, masterpieces of the slide guitar). Here is a whimsical one, “Judge Harsh Blues”. Same goes for Sippy Wallace, a blues singer who I have reviewed individually in this space, with her youthful rendition of “I’m A Mighty Tight Woman”. For comparison purposes her version done later when she was ‘discovered’ in the 1960’s is better. By the way, as an interesting example of how the old time country blues and the folk revival of the early 1960’s linked up, The Jim Kweskin Jug Band members mentioned above and Sippy shared many a stage together in those days. Nice, right? Texan Jimmy Rodgers demonstrates his incredible yodel work on “Blue Yodel #9” although I will argue, a little, about his inclusion here. He belongs in the pantheon of some genre but I do not think that it is the blues. Finally, a tip of the hat to the title tune “The First Time I Met The Blues” by Little Brother Montgomery. I rest my case.

Lyrics to Canned Heat Blues :

Crying, canned heat, canned heat, mama, crying, sure, Lord, killing me.
Crying, canned heat, mama, sure, Lord killing me.
Takes alcorub to take these canned heat blues.

Crying, mama, mama, mama, you know, canned heat killing me.
Crying, mama, mama, mama, crying, canned heat is killing me.
Canned heat don't kill me, crying, babe, i'll never die.

I woke up, this morning, crying, canned heat 'ourn my bed.
Run here, somebody, take these canned heat blues.
Run here, somebody, and take these canned heat blues.

[ Canned Heat Blues Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]

*Walk Right In Is Right- The Blues Up Close And Country

Click On The Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Bukka White Performing "Panama Limited". Wow!

CD Review

When The Sun Goes Down: Walk Right In, various artists, BMG Music, 2002

In the course of the past year or so I have highlighted any number of blues CD compilations as I have tried to search for the roots of the American musical experience, and in the process retraced some of the nodal points of my own musical interests. I never tire of saying that I have been formed, and reformed by the blues so that when I came upon this “When The Sun Goes Down” series (a very apt expression of the right time for the playing of the blues) I grabbed each copy with both hands. In one series, the producers, as an act of love without question, have gathered up the obscure, the forgotten, the almost forgotten and the never to be forgotten voices that “spoke” to me in my youth and started me on that long ago love affair with the blues. I have hardly been alone on that journey but it is nice to see that some people with the resources, the time, money and energy have seen fit to honor our common past. Each CD reviewed here, and any future ones that I can get my hands on for there are more than the three I am reviewing today, is chock full of memorable performances by artists who now will, through the marvels of modern high technology, gain a measure of justified immortality.

Here is the cream. As always “Big Joe” Williams holds forth on “Baby, Please Don’t Go”. The only question is how many strings does the guitar that he is using on this track have? I know it isn’t six. That’s too easy. Moving on, no anthology of the country blues is complete without a Lead Belly song. Although he has never been on the top of my country blues list here his “Ham an’ Eggs” and, of course, the jumping “Midnight Special” are well done. Hey, I only said he wasn’t only MY A-list not that he wasn’t a great and worthy blues legend. Big Bill Broonzy is definitely on my A-list and he shows off here with “Mississippi River Blues”. A real treat in this compilation is the inclusion of Milton Brown and His Musical Brownies doing “Garbage Man Blues” Why? Well, at one time, before his early death in an automobile accident, he was a real challenger to Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys for the title of "King of Western Swing”. Moreover, unlike my questioning the placement of yodeler Jimmy Rodgers as a blues man (in another CD in this series) Milton Brown fits right in here.

All hail Bukka White. I have been raving about my relatively recent “discovery” of Brother White every since I saw him on a Stephan Grossman DVD musical documentary that also included Son House. Old Bukka blew House, that well-respected and seminal figure in country blues away. Here Bukka holds forth on the old railroad blues tune “The Panama Limited”, a song that I first heard way back in the day when it was covered by folk revivalist Tom Rush on one of his early albums. Tommy Johnson, as on a previous CD in this series, stands out with “Cold Drink Of Water Blues”. No wonder blues woman Rory Block, a key figure in the modern “discovery” of his work, chose to cover this classic.

Two exceptional treats here are the incomparable Paul Robeson reaching down for “Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child”. Nothing I could say here would give an adequate expression to the voice of Brother Robeson. We may have been left wing political opponents but when the deal went down he could sings circles around anyone else, especially with his primordial emotive powers. All I can say is that you have to hear this one. The other treat is a genuine piece of black cultural history, the weaving of politics and religion that, in a pre-Obama age (and maybe even now) drove one aspect of black musical expression. Here we have the Reverend J.M. Gates doing “Somebody’s Been Stealin’” (along with some members of his congregation). If you want to hear what bluesman Blind Willie Johnson and, let’s say, a black politician like Adam Clayton Powell fed off of in order to learn to “speak’ in the cadence of the black masses in the first third of the 20th century listen up.


Aberdeen Mississippi 2:33 Trk 9
Bukka White (Booker T. Washington White)
Bukka White - vocal & guitar
& Washboard Sam (Robert Brown) - wshbrd.
Recorded: March 7th & 8th 1940 Chicago, Illinois
Album: Parchman Farm Blues, Roots RTS 33055
Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com


I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
Them Aberdeen women told me
Will buy my gasoline

Hey, two little women
That I ain't ever seen
They has two little women
That I ain't never seen
These two little women
Just from New Orlean

Ooh, sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
I'm sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
Well, I believe them Aberdeen women
Gonna make me lose my mind, yeah

(slide guitar & washboard)

Aber-deen is my home
But the mens don't want me around
Aberdeen is my home
But the men don't want me around
They know I will take these women
An take them outta town

Listen, you Aberdeen women
You know I ain't got no dime
Oh-oh listen you women
You know'd I ain't got no dime
They been had the po' boy
All up and down.

(guitar & washboard to end)

*Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By- Bukka White's "Poor Boy Long Way From Home"

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Bukka White performing Poor Boy Long Way From Home. Wow!


In this series, presented under the headline “Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By”, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here. Markin.

***********

Poor Boy Long Way From Home 2:21 Trk 21
Bukka White (Booker T. Washington White)
Recorded: 1963 Memphis, Tennessee
Album: Parchman Farm Blues - Roots RTS 33055
Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com

Poor boy a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
I don't have no happy home to go home to

When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
She wanna know, 'Daddy, when you comin' back home?'

(guitar)

They got me down here on the farm
Got me down here on old farm
I don't have no one to come and go my bail
Baby, I wanna come back home to you

guitar)

Sorry, baby I can't call you over the phone
Sorry, I can't call you over the phone
'Cause they got me down here long distance phone
But I can't call you baby over the phone.

***Again,The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of John Lee Hooker Doing "Boom Boom".


The Very Best Of John Lee Hooker, John Lee Hooker, Rhino Records, 1995

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell just the lyrics alone to “I’m Bad Like Jesse James” rates as one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. Others may like the much covered “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”. (This may be the best way to state my case- George Thorogood’s version “speaks” to me.) “Boogie Chillen” and “I’m In The Mood” are exemplars of Hooker’s boogie guitar style.

*Once More,The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of John Lee Hooker Doing "I'm Bad Like Jesse James"".

John Lee Hooker: The Definitive Collection, John Lee Hooker, Union Square Music, 2000

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell “Boogie Chillen” is one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. How about the power of “Boom Boom” and “Hard Headed Woman” and the classic Hooker lines of “She’s Long, “She’s Tall”.

*The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of John Lee Hooker Doing "Boogie Chillen".

CD REVIEW

John Lee Hooker: The Real Folk Blues, Chess Records, 1987

I have poured out kudos to the likes of Howlin’ Wolf, Skip James, Son House, Bukka White and an assortment of other legendary male acoustic and electric blues guitar players in this space. I have not, until now, mentioned the name of the legendary blues artist John Lee Hooker, although he belongs up there with those other above-mentioned names. Why? Well, frankly, it is a question of tastes. Other than an occasional song here or there John Lee Hooker does not “speak” to me, a term that means something to me in the blues context. Sure his guitar smokes when he is on. He always had more than enough black and white bands (Canned Heat, for one) clamoring to back him up and certainly his lyrics (with a few “politically incorrect” exceptions common to the genre) drove his message home. But we never connected at that “soul” level the way Wolf, Son House or the recently discovered (by me) Bukka White do. This happens. But I know enough about the blues to know that John Lee Hooker will “speak” to others. Legends are like that.

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell “Stella Mae” is one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. Others may like the much covered “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”. (This may be the best way to state my case- George Thorogood’s version “speaks” to me.) “Peace Lovin’ Man” and “I’m In The Mood” are exemplars of Hooker’s boogie guitar style.

*Again, The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

John Lee Hooker: The Definitive Collection, John Lee Hooker, Union Square Music, 2000

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell “Boogie Chillen” is one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. How about the power of “Boom Boom” and “Hard Headed Woman” and the classic Hooker lines of “She’s Long, “She’s Tall”.


*Once More,The Boogie Chillen” Man- The Boogie Blues Of John Lee Hooker

The Very Best Of John Lee Hooker, John Lee Hooker, Rhino Records, 1995

So given the above comments what is classic here, according to my tastes. Well, hell just the lyrics alone to “I’m Bad Like Jesse James” rates as one of those here or there songs Hooker songs I mentioned above that I liked. Others may like the much covered “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”. (This may be the best way to state my case- George Thorogood’s version “speaks” to me.) “Boogie Chillen” and “I’m In The Mood” are exemplars of Hooker’s boogie guitar style.


"Boogie Chillen'" : John Lee Hooker

(John Lee Hooker)

Well my mama she didn't 'low me, just to stay out all night long, oh Lord
Well my mama didn't 'low me, just to stay out all night long
I didn't care what she didn't 'low, I would boogie-woogie anyhow

When I first came to town people, I was walkin' down Hastings Street
Everybody was talkin' about, the Henry Swing Club
I decided I drop in there that night
When I got there, I say, "Yes, people"
They was really havin' a ball!
Yes, I know
Boogie Chillen'!

One night I was layin' down,
I heard mama 'n papa talkin'
I heard papa tell mama, let that boy boogie-woogie,
It's in him, and it got to come out
And I felt so good,
Went on boogie'n just the same


"Tupelo Blues"

(John Lee Hooker)

[Spoken:]
Did you read about the flood?
It happened long time ago, in a little country town, way back in Mississippi
It rained and it rained, it rained both night and day
The people got worried, they began to cry,
"lord have mercy, where can we go now?"
There were women and there was children, screaming and crying,
"lord have mercy and a great disaster, who can we turn to now, but you?"
The great flood of Tupelo, Mississippi
It happened one evenin', one Friday evenin', a long time ago,
It rained and it started rainin'
The people of Tupelo, out on the farm gathering their harvest,
A dark cloud rolled, way back in Tupelo, Mississippi, hmm, hmm

Wasn't that a mighty time,
Wasn't that a mighty time?
Wasn't that a mighty time,
A mighty time, that evenin'?
It rained, both night and day
The poor people that had no place to go, hmm,hmm
A little town, called Tupelo, Mississippi
I never forget it and I know you won't either

"I'm In The Mood"

(John Lee Hooker / Bernard Bessman)

I'm in the mood baby, I'm in the mood for love
I'm in the mood baby, I'm in the mood for love
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood, baby, I'm in the mood for love

I said night time is the right time, to be with the one you love
You know when night come baby, God know, you're so far away
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood baby, I'm in the mood for love
I'm in the mood, in the mood, baby, in the mood for love

I said yes, my mama told me, to leave that girl alone
But my mama didn't know, God know, girl was puttin' down
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood baby, in the mood for love
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood, baby, in the mood for love

One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer lyrics

One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
Hey mister bartender come here
I want another drink and I want it now

My baby she gone, she been gone two night
I ain't seen my baby since night before last
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer

"I'm Mad Again"

(John Lee Hooker)

I had a friend one time, at least I thought I did
Taken that man in my house, give him my food,
Over my table, that I couldn't afford

He come to me, he said 'Johnny, ain't got no place to stay'
I said 'Yes man, come to my house'
I get you a place to stay, and a bed to sleep in,
That I couldn't afford

When I found out, you with my wife,
Now I'm mad, like Al Capone
Well I warned you one time,
Next time I warn you,
I'm gonna use my gun on you
'cause I'm mad with you, hahaha
I'm mad with you, like Al Capone

Look man, I told you one time before
But this time, I'm gonna teach you,
A little lesson, you won't forget
Take this man, right down by, the riverside
I might drown you,
I might shoot you,
I don't know
Gonna tie your hands, gonna tie your feet
Gag you so you can't talk to nobody
I'm mad, rrrrr, I'm mad with you
You're sinkin', I'm mad


"It Hurts Me So"

(John Lee Hooker / Bernard Besman)

That man don't love you, he told me so
He's only doin' that, baby, to break up your home

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

That man don't love you, no he don't
He's only jivin' you little girl, lovin' the girl next door

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so Yeah!.

You know you don't love him, you know you don't
Go ahead and leave me baby, don't make me cry

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

That man don't love you, he told me so
Only jivin' you, baby, breaking up your home

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

So long, baby, I've got to go
Because you don't love me now, darlin', I know you don't

When things go wrong, so wrong with you,
It hurts me so, it hurts me so

"How Long Blues"

(Leroy Carr, arranged by John Lee Hooker)

Standin' at the station when the train come by
Deep down in my heart, baby, feel an achin' pain
How long, oh, baby how long?
Baby how long, baby how long,
Has that evenin' train been gone,
How long, oh, baby how long?

If I could holler like a mountain jack,
I'd go up on the mountain, call my baby back
How long, oh, baby how long?

I could see the green grass,
Growin' up on the hill
But you can't see a green-black drawin' on a,
On a dollar bill
Baby, how long?
Baby how long?

How long, baby how long,
Has that evenin' train been gone?
Baby how long, oh baby how long?
Baby how long, oh baby how long?

*I Like My Liquor In Costa Rica- The Blues Of Taj Mahal

Click on the headline to link to a "YouTube" film clip of Taj Mahal performing his "Mail Box Blues."

CD Review

Shoutin’ In Key; Taj Mahal and the Phantom Blues Band, Taj Mahal and various musicians, Kan-Du Records, 2000

Okay, okay about a year or so ago when I was reviewing every possible blues artist that ever hit the pavements in the 20th century I mentioned, in a review of an old film documentary of country blues artists, including Son House and Bukka White, that was hosted by Taj Mahal that I needed to do a separate review on his important blues contribution. Well here I finally get around to putting paid on that pledge, although this CD with his one time Phantom Blues Band represents only one aspect of his work.

The important thing to note about Taj is that although he is well-versed in the old country tunes, witness the cover of the country blues classic "Corrina, Corrina" here, and of the electric blues long identified with Chicago, witness his own “Mail Box Blues,” he is also one of the exemplars of the Carib blues beat that is closely associated with the New Orleans blues tradition. Check out his “Every Wind In The River” on that score. Of course, given his West Indian roots this is to be expected but it also means that he is not easily categorized. This mix comes out more fully in other albums that I will review later but I will just alert the reader to that influence here.

Note: I have seen Taj Mahal in concert on many occasions and in many venues; folk, blues, and rock. Sometimes he will blow you away with his musical energy. Other times he has seemed to lack direction and clarity about what he was trying to present. That is not true here and I believe that his band composed of well thought of musicians is the key to keeping things tight.


Lyrics to Corrina :

I got a bird what whistles, baby got a bird
Honey got a bird ... it would sing, baby got a bird
Honey got a bird ... it would sing
Without my Corrina, sure don't mean ..., sure don't mean a natural thing

I learned to love you baby, honey for I call
Baby for I call your name, baby for I call
Honey for I call your name, I love you Corrina
It sure don't mean, it sure don't mean a natural thing

Have mercy, have mercy, baby on my hard luck
Honey on my hard luck soul, baby on my hard luck
Honey on my hard luck soul

I got a rainbow round my shoulder
Looks like silver, shines like Klondike1 gold

Well I love you honey, honey tell the world, baby tell the world I do
Honey tell the world I do, baby tell the world I do
Ain't no woman in fourteen counties, love me baby like the way I do

I got a bird what whistles, baby got a bird
Honey got a bird ... it would sing, baby got a bird
Honey got a bird ... it would sing
Without Corrina, sure don't mean, sure don't mean a natural thing

Corrina, Corrina, Corrina

In Honor Of Newport 1965-Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By-Bukka White And Friends At The Newport Folk Festival -1966

Click on the title to link a "YouTube" film clip of Bukka White and friends (including one Howlin' Wolf) blowing the blues from here to eternity with his National steel guitar.

In this series, presented under the headline “Songs To While Away The Class Struggle By”, I will post some songs that I think will help us get through the “dog days” of the struggle for our communist future. I do not vouch for the political thrust of the songs; for the most part they are done by pacifists, social democrats, hell, even just plain old ordinary democrats. And, occasionally, a communist, although hard communist musicians have historically been scarce on the ground. Thus, here we have a regular "popular front" on the music scene. While this would not be acceptable for our political prospects, it will suffice for our purposes here. Markin.

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- When Eric Von Schmidt Snuck The Blues Into Harvard Square

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Bukka White performing Aberdeen Mississippi Blues. Everybody else step back, step way back.

CD Review

New City Blues: The Prestige/Folklore Years: Volume Two, various artists including Eric Von Schmidt of the headline, Fantasy Records, 1994

Everything I know about the Cambridge (Ma) /Village (NYC)/North Beach (SF) (locations provided for the younger set, just in case) folk scene in the early 1960s I know from my old time friend, Peter Paul Markin. I met Markin out in the “great awakening” search for the great American West night, yellow brick road “on the bus” summer of love, circa 1967 night when we connected on Russian Hill in San Francisco. And that date is important because that is the year that I graduated from high school up in Olde Saco (Me). So I was far too late, far too disinterested, and far too committed to some version of psychedelic rock to appreciate what went on in those locales in the early 1960s. But I learned, and learned good.

Even Markin confessed to me one time that he was, being just three years older than me, kind of late onto the scene himself having first become aware of such things as folk music and coffeehouses in 1962 high school days when he, by accident, heard some early Dylan stuff on some late night Sunday radio show, Bill Bixby’s Folk Hour.

The accident part was that he had tuned in assuming that he was going to listen to the Irish National Hour that his grandfather had trained him to tune into religiously. The station had changed the hour (put it an hour later) due to the increasing popularity of, if you can believe this, folk music, roots music, hillbilly stuff. Or so Markin thought then. But he was hooked, and listened to that show religiously every week. Previously, other than music from the “old sod” he had, like every other denizen of what would later be called the generation of ’68, suffered through that rock and roll drought when Bobby Vee, Bobby Darin, Connie Francis and cast of thousands of other one- hit wonders mucked up the airways after “they” killed Elvis, threw Chuck Berry in jail, sneered at Jerry Lee’s sex life, and we lost Buddy Holly.

Now what does all of this have to do with reviewing an early folk blues CD, or with Eric Von Schmidt? Plenty. See Eric was back in the late 1950s one of the first to create the Cambridge folk scene making it safe for young impressionable teens to curse the day Neil Sedaka and Freddy (Boom Boom) Cannon were born. He made (along with others although he gets kudos here because three of his songs, including the famous Light Rain, are part
of this compilation) the search for roots music that we half-knew we were looking for possible to surface, and survive. This was the day of the great urban homage to the country blues, mainly black, who were being “discovered” (really re-discovered”) down in the Mississippi Delta, the back woods of Alabama, and along the Texas panhandle.

And the performers on this album were among those others who tried to put a new spin on some old country blues classics, and had enough sense of history to do the covers up right. Special attention here should go to the late folk historian Dave Von Ronk who was a fountain of knowledge about the old- timers. And shared that information and respect. Attention should also go to Geoff Muldaur who continues to perform many of the classics of the folk portion of the American songbook. I should note that today through networks like YouTube we can see some of the country blues old-timers perform their songs and compare. Take Muldaur’s cover of Aberdeen Mississippi Blues. Very good. Then take Bukka White’s version. Step back on that one Geoff. But listen to this CD-this is the new old-timers (ouch) blues.

*On Getting “Hip” To The Blues, The Delta Blues - A CD Primer

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Delta blues great, Bukka White, performing Aberdeen Mississippi Blues

CD Review

The Rough Guide To Delta Blues, various artists, World Music Network, 2002

Okay so the blues have got your attention. Maybe you heard it as background music while traveling and can’t get that sound out of your head, or heard someone strumming in some urban square trying to scratch a few pennies out of those little chords on a guitar. Whatever. You are hooked, or at least intrigued. So you need a little primer of the guys (mainly, guys, but not exclusively so) who taught the guys who taught the guys who you heard on that street corner or in some current concert hall. That is where this nice little CD comes in. In one place and at one sitting you will most of the key guitarists who created the beat and the singers who put words to the mournful sounds about hard women, hard work, hard living and hard liquor. Names like Tommy Johnson, Skip James, Son House, of course, Muddy Waters, Charley Patton and so on.

But wait a minute this is only the beginning of the journey. From there you will need, desperately need, to hear the material John and Alan Lomax recorded back in the days down in the South when these guys were still alive. And, of course, check out Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. Oh, ya, don’t forget the women blues singers who got more renown when they were alive and filling the gin mils and concert halls. And the blues as it moved north to places like Chicago and Detroit. And then people like the Stones, Rory Block, and others who cover the old classics. And don’t forget the Cajun influences, And Tex-Mex, and…. Hell by the time you get done you will be an old codger or codgerette. But here is where you start.

I would direct your attention to several outstanding efforts here, first and foremost a great version of Sitting On Top Of The World by the under-appreciated Mississippi Sheiks; Tommy Johnson on Cool Drink of Water Blues; the incredible Bukka White and his flailing National Steel guitar on Aberdeen Mississippi Blues;, and, Louise Johnson’s On The Wall.

Preachin' The Blues- Son House

CD REVIEW

The Very Best of Son House , Heroes Of The Blues, Son House, Sony Music, 2003

I recently reviewed Mississippi John Hurt’s "The Last Sessions" in this space. Hurt was ‘discovered’ in the early 1960’s by young, mainly white, folk singers looking to find the roots of American music. Well, Hurt was not the only old black country blues player ‘discovered’ during that period. There is a now famous still picture (as well as well as video performance clip, I wonder if it is on YouTube?) of Hurt along with the legendary Skip James and the musician under review, Son House, jamming at the Newport Folk Festival in 1963. That was a historic (and probably one of the last possible) moments to hear these legends of country blues in one spot together.

And why was House on that stage with Hurt and James? Well, the short answer is that old flailing National steel guitar of his. However, the real answer is that like Hurt he represented a piece of American music that was fast fading away, at least in its original form –the country blues. Can anyone beat the poignancy of "Death Letter Blues" or bitterness of "Levee Moan"? Or when House gets preachy on "John the Revelator" and other old time religious songs of shout and response. The tension between being a preacher man and doing the ‘devil’s work' (playing the blues) is more clearly felt in House’s work than in Hurt’s.

House’s repertoire is not as extensive as Hurt’s and there is a little sameness of some of the lyrics but when he is hot watch out. There is another famous film clip of him alone sitting down in a chair on stage under the hot lights flailing away at the guitar almost trance-like, sweating buckets doing "Death Letter Blues". That is the scene you want to evoke when you listen to this selection. And do listen.

DVD REVIEW

Kicking The Country Blues- Son House and Bukka White

Son House and Bukka White: Masters Of The Country Blues, hosted by Taj Mahal, Yazoo Videos, 1991

I have reviewed the music of country blues legend Son House elsewhere in this space (and above in this entry) and expected to review this documentary solely on the basis of a comment there. I mentioned there that in 1963 Son House, Skip James and Mississippi John Hurt performed at the Newport Folk Festival, a historic Delta blues occasion. One of the vivid cinematic scenes from that event was Son House flailing his National steel guitar, trance like, on the classic "Death Letter Blues". I assumed that I was going to see that performance here. That was not the case. However, with solid introductions to both performers by blues legend Taj Mahal we are treated to a little different look at Son House and a new look at Bukka White.

The Son House segments here concentrate on the lifelong tension between a career in preaching, Baptist style of course, and ‘doin’ the devil’s work’ of singing the blues (and along the way doing a little whiskey drinking, womanizing and hell-raising). House is interviewed here trying to lay out his philosophy, his theology and his acknowledgement that the whiskey and women mainly got the best of him. The actual musical presentation is rather short and religiously oriented- "Death Letter Blues", "John The Revelator" and the like. If you want Son House at his most musical you will have to look elsewhere, mainly to his CDs. If you want to know the man behind the music a little this is for you.

Enough of Son House here though. The real story of this documentary is that the lesser known (at least to me and others that I know who follow the blues) Bukka White steals the show in his segments. Not only is he a better and more versatile guitar player than Son House but he jumps with his musical compositions here. Let us leave it, for now, that if you want to get introduced to Brother White then this is a very good way to start. I might add that in a segment of The Howlin’ Wolf Story that I am also currently in the process of reviewing that White also steals the show from the legendary Wolf with his guitar playing. That said, the reader can expect that Brother White will shortly be getting an individual entry in this space. Yes, indeed, he will.

***The "Max Daddy” Blues Shootout- Alan Lomax’s "Blues At Newport 1966"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube Film Clip Of Skip James Doing "Devil Got My Woman" At The Newport Folk Festival In 1966. Wow!

DVD REVIEW

Devil Got My Woman: Blues At Newport 1966, Skip James, Son House, Howlin’ Wolf, Bukka White and the Reverend Pearly Brown, Vestapol Productions, 1996

I have spent some considerable effort in this space reviewing various trends in the blues tradition, including both the country blues and the later electrified urban sound most closely associated with places like Memphis and Chicago. As is fairly well known country blues got its start down in the South during the early part of the 20th century (if not earlier) as a way for blacks (mainly) to cope with the dreaded, deadly work on the plantations (picking that hard to pick cotton). The electric blues really came of age in the post World War I period and later when there was a massive black migration out of the south in search of the, now disappearing, industrial jobs up north (and to get out from under old Jim Crow racial segregation). In this volume (and similarly in a couple of other previously reviewed volumes in this series) Stefan Grossman, the renowned guitar teacher and performer in his own right, has taken old film clips and segments from an Alan Lomax experiment at the Newport Folk Festival of putting exemplars of both traditions together under one roof and has produced an hour of classic performances by some masters of the genre. Wow.

Let me set the stage on this one to give you a small, small sense of what an historic blues cultural occasion this was. Alan Lomax, the famous musicologist and folk performer, put the then recently rediscovered Skip James and Son House and the already well known and powerful voice of Howlin' Wolf together under one roof. Oh yes, and then added Bukka White and the Reverend Pearly Brown to the mix. The motif: an attempt to recreate an old fashioned "juke joint'" from back in the days on a Down South rural Saturday night complete with dancing and plenty of liquor. Watch out.

Needless to say anyone even vaguely familiar with the long and storied history of the early blues knows that this was indeed an historic, and fleeting, occasion. 1966 might have been one of the few years that such an event could have been put together as the old country blues singers were starting to past from the scene. But as fate would have it we got one last chance to look at these five performers going head to head, everyone one way or another a legend. With the partial exception of the Reverend Pearly Brown and his religiously- oriented country blues done in the shout and response style of the old Baptist churches reflecting the tradition made popular by the Reverend Blind Willie Johnson, all the other performers have rated plenty of ink in this space as members of one or another branch of the blues pantheon.

A few of the highlights. Skip James' rendition of his classic "I'd Rather Be The Devil That Be That Woman's Man" (also known by the title of this documentary "Devil Got My Woman"). I have gotten more mileage out of my use of that title in various political commentaries in this space than I deserve. Thanks, Skip. Son House brought out his classic "Death Letter Blues" that I always go crazy over. Howlin' Wolf is, well, Howlin' Wolf as he almost inhales the harmonica on "How Many More Years" and does an incredible cover of the old Robert Johnson/Elmore James song "Dust My Broom". Reverend Brown does a very soulful rendition of the tradtional religious blues classic "Keep Your Lamp Trimmed And Burning".

So who is left? Well Bukka White, of course. Bukka is a recent addition to my personal blues pantheon and I have spend some effort praising his work, especially his smoking guitar work on that old National Steel guitar that he makes hum. Hell, I would have walked to Mississippi to hear that. This documentary has a separate songs section so that one can replay any song that one wants to without having to replay the whole film (although I did that as well). So who got replayed? Yes Bukka on "100 Men" (with Howlin' Wolf doing the response and some unknown washboard player as backup). Yes indeed, this was the blues shootout to end all shootouts. If you want to know what it was like to see men play the blues for keeps look here.



Devil Got My Woman lyrics

You know, I'd rather be the ol' devil
Well, I'd rather be the devil
Then to be that woman' man
You know, rather be the devil
Than to be that woman' man

You know, I'm so sorry
You know, so sorry
That I ever fell in love wit' you-ooo-hoo-oo
Because you know you don't treat me
Baby, like you used ta do-hoo

You know, I laid down last night
You know, I laid down last night
And I thought to take me some rest
But my mind got to rambling
Like a wild geese from the west

You know the woman that I love
The woman that I love
I stol't her from my best friend
But you know he done got lucky
An he done got her back, again

You know, I used to cut your kindleing
You know, I used to cut your kindleing
Baby, then I made you some fire
Then I would tote all your water
Way, way, way, from the bogy brier

You know, my baby she don't drink whiskey
My baby, she don't drink no whiskey
An I know she ain't crazy about wine
Now, it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done changed my baby's mind

You know, I could be right
You know, I could be right
Then again, I could be wrong
But it was nothin' but the ol' devil
He done got my baby
Now he done gone.

I'm So Glad lyrics

Eee, an I'm so glad
Yes sir, I'm glad
Until I just don't know
What to do

An I am tired a-weeping
I'm so tired a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you

(guitar)

Eee, an I am so -
Yes, I am mighty glad
Until I just don't know what -

Would you be my little darlin'?
Would you be my dear?
Would you be my darlin'
Be my dear?

Then I would be mighty -
I would be mighty glad
Then I just wouldn't know
What to do

When I say, 'Coo-coo-coo'
Just like a little baby, do
I would love to have
A lovely kiss from you

Then I would be mighty -
Then I would be so -
Until I just wouldn't know -

You know, I'm tired a-weeping
I'm so tired of a-moanin'
I'm so tired of groanin' for you

(guitar)

Eee, an I am so glad
Yes, I'm so glad
Until I just don't know
What to do-ooo-woo-ooo-ooo.

Cherry Ball Blues lyrics

I love my little cherry ball
Better than I love myself
I love my cherry ball
Better than I love myself
Then if she don't love me
She can't love nobody else

Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
Cherry ball, she quit me
Quit me in a nice, good way
You know, what it take to get her back
I carries it ev'ryday

Now, I left cherry ball standin'
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Now, I left cherry ball
Standin' in the back do' cryin'
Of course, I feel her condition
But her trouble ain't none a-mine

She's just like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
She's like a spider
She's hangin' on the wall
You know, she done quit me
She quit me without a cause

Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
Now, when she left me
She left tears in my eye
You know, that I love her
But her disposition I do dispise

Now, you can take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
Now, you take the Southern
I'm 'on take the Sante Fe
I'm gon' ride an gon' ramble
'Till cherry ball come back to me

She got to come on back home to me-ee-ee.

Son House - Death Letter lyrics

Lyrics to Death Letter :

I got a letter this mornin, how do you reckon it read?
It said, "Hurry, hurry, yeah, your love is dead"
I got a letter this mornin, I say how do you reckon it read?
You know, it said, "Hurry, hurry, how come the gal you love is dead?"

So, I grabbed up my suitcase, and took off down the road
When I got there she was layin on a coolin' board
I grabbed up my suitcase, and I said and I took off down the road
I said, but when I got there she was already layin on a coolin' board

Well, I walked up right close, looked down in her face
Said, the good ol' gal got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day
I walked up right close, and I said I looked down in her face
I said the good ol' gal, she got to lay here 'til the Judgment Day

Looked like there was 10,000 people standin' round the buryin' ground
I didn't know I loved her 'til they laid her down
Looked like 10,000 were standin' round the buryin' ground
You know I didn't know I loved her 'til they damn laid her down

Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
I wouldn't mistreat you baby, for my weight in gold
I said, Lord, have mercy on my wicked soul
You know I wouldn't mistreat nobody, baby, not for my weight in gold

Well, I folded up my arms and I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell honey, I'll see you on Judgment Day"
Ah, yeah, oh, yes, I slowly walked away
I said, "Farewell, farewell, I'll see you on the Judgment Day"

You know I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
The blues came along and drove my spirit away
I went in my room, I said I bowed down to pray
I said the blues came along and drove my spirit away

You know I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around
I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down
You know, I didn't have nobody to throw my arms around

I loved you baby, like I love myself
You don't have me, you won't have nobody else
I loved you baby, better than I did myself
I said now if you don't have me, I didn't want you to have nobody else

You know, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
Ain't no satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do
Yeah, it's hard to love someone that don't love you
You know it don't look like satisfaction, don't care what in the world you do

Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where she used to lay
Got up this mornin', just about the break of day
A-huggin' the pillow where my good gal used to lay

Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
You know, I must-a had them old walkin' blues
Got up this mornin', feelin' round for my shoes
Yeah, you know bout that, I must-a had them old walkin' blues

You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', so I don't have to cry no more
You know, I cried last night and all the night before
Gotta change my way a livin', you see, so I don't have to cry no more

Ah, hush, thought I heard her call my name
If it wasn't so loud and so nice and plain
Ah, yeah
Mmmmmm

Well, listen, whatever you do
This is one thing, honey, I tried to get along with you
Yes, no tellin' what you do
I done everything I could, just to try and get along with you

Well, the minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
It seemed like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways
Minutes seemed like hours, hours they seemed like days
Seems like my good, old gal outta done stopped her low-down ways

You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes leaves you feeling sad and blue
You know, love's a hard ol' fall, make you do things you don't wanna do
Love sometimes make you feel sad and blue

Son House - Preachin' Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Preachin' Blues :

Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
Oh, I'm gonna get me a religion, I'm gonna join the Baptist Church
I'm gonna be a Baptist preacher, and I sure won't have to work

Oh, I'm a-preach these blues, and I, I want everybody to shout
I want everybody to shout
I'm gonna do like a prisoner, I'm gonna roll my time on out

Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Oh, I went in my room, I bowed down to pray
Till the blues come along, and they blowed my spirit1 away

Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
Oh, I'd-a had religion, Lord, this every day
But the womens and whiskey, well, they would not set me free

Oh, I wish I had me a heaven of my own
Hey, a heaven of my own
Till I'd give all my women a long, long, happy home

hey, I love my baby, just like I love myself
Oh, just like I love myself
Well, if she don't have me, she won't have nobody else

Son House - Pony Blues lyrics
Lyrics to Pony Blues :

Why don't you catch my pony, now saddle up my black mare?
...my pony, saddle up, up my black mare?
You know, I'm gonna find my baby, well, in the world somewhere

You know, he's a travelin' horse, an' he's too black bad
He's a travelin' pony, I declare, he's too black bad
You know, he got a gait, now, no Shetlan' ain't never had

You know, I taken him by the rein an' I led him around and 'round
I say, I taken him by the reins an' I, I led him, him 'round and 'round
You know, he ain't the best in the world, but he's the best ever been in this town

You know, he's a travelin' horse and he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony and he don't deny his name
You know, the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame

Why don't you come up here, pony, now come on, please let's us go
I said, "Come up, get up now, please pony, now let's us go"
Let's we saddle on down on the Gulf of, of Mexico

You know, the horse that I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
I say, the pony I'm ridin', he can fox-trot, he can lope and pace
You know, a horse with them many gaits, you know, I'm bound to win the race

He's a travelin' horse an' he don't deny his name
He's a travelin' pony, he don't deny his name
the way he can travel is a low-down, old, dirty shame

Howlin' Wolf

All songs written by Willie Dixon (Arc Music Corp- BMI) except * by Chester Burnett (Arc Music Corp- BMI) and ** by James B. Oden (Arc Music Corp- BMI)

SHAKE FOR ME

Sure look good, but it don't mean a thing to me
Sure look good, but it don't mean a thing to me
I got a hip-shaking woman, shake like a willow tree

You better wait baby, you got back a little too late.
You better wait baby, you got back a little too late.
I got a cool-shaking baby, shake like jello on a plate

When my baby walk, you know she's fine and mellow
When my baby walk, you know she's fine and mellow
Every time she stops, her flesh it shake like jello

Shake it baby, shake it for me
Shake lil' baby, shake it for me
Oh, shake it little baby, shake like a willow tree


THE RED ROOSTER

I had a little red rooster too lazy to crow for day
I had a little red rooster too lazy to crow for day
Keep everything in the barnyard upset in every way

Oh, them dogs begin to bark, hounds begin to howl
Oh, them dogs begin to bark, hounds begin to howl
Oh, Watch out strange kin people, little red rooster's on the prowl

If you see my little red rooster, please drag him on home
If you see my little red rooster, please drag him on home
There ain't no peace in the barnyard since my little red rooster's been gone


YOU'LL BE MINE

You so sweet, you so fine
How I wish you were mine
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine

You so nice, you so true
I'm so glad I love you
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine

Tell me pretty baby is you gonna try
If you say it baby, hang on baby
till the day I die

It's so true I love you
I don't care what you do
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine

Tell me pretty baby is you gonna try
If you say it baby, hang on baby
till the day I die

That is true I love you
I don't care what you do
Honey I'll be your love
You'll be mine
You'll be mine
You'll be mine (fade out)


WHO'S BEEN TALKIN' *

My baby caught the train, left me all alone
My baby caught the train, left me all alone
She knows I love her, she doin' me wrong

My baby bought the ticket, long as her right arm
My baby bought the ticket, long as my right arm
She says she's gonna ride long as I been from home

Well who been talking, everything that I do
Well who been talking, everything that I do
Well you is my baby, I hate to lose

Well goodbye baby, hate to see you go.
Well goodbye baby, hate to see you go.
You know I love you I'm the causin of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.
I'm the causin' of it all.


WANG DANG DOODLE

Tell Automatic Slim , tell Razor Totin' Jim
Tell Butcher Knife Totin' Annie, tell Fast Talking Fanny
A we gonna pitch a ball, a down to that union hall
We gonna romp and tromp till midnight
We gonna fuss and fight till daylight
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long

Tell Kudu-Crawlin' Red, tell Abyssinian Ned
Tell ol' Pistol Pete, everybody gonna meet
Tonight we need no rest, we really gonna throw a mess
We gonna to break out all of the windows, we gonna kick down all the doors
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long

Tell Fats and Washboard Sam, that everybody gonna to jam
Tell Shaky and Boxcar Joe, we got sawdust on the floor
Tell Peg and Caroline Dye, we gonna have a time.
When the fish scent fill the air, there'll be snuff juice everywhere
We gonna pitch a wang dang doodle all night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long

SPOONFUL

It could be a spoonsful of diamonds,
Could be a spoonful of gold,
Just a little spoon of your precious love,
Satisfies my soul.

Men lies about little,
Some of them cries about little,
Some of them dies about little,
Everything fight about little spoonful.

It could be a spoonful of coffee,
Could be a spoonful of tea,
But a little spoon of your precious love,
Good enough for me.

Men lies about that,
Some of them dies about that,
Some of them cries about that,
But everything fight about that spoonful.

That spoon, dat spoon, dat spoonful.

It could be a spoonsful of water,
Saved from the deserts sand,
But one spoon of them fortifies.
Save you from another man.

Men lies about that,
Some of them cries about that,
Some of them dies about that,
Everybody fightin' about that spoonful.

That spoon, dat spoon, dat spoonful.


BACK DOOR MAN

I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but the little girls understand.

When everybody's sound asleep,
I'm somewhere making my midnight creep.
Yes in the morning, the rooster crow.
Something tell me, I got to go.

I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but little girls understand.

They take me to the doctor. Shot full o' holes.
Nurse cried, please save the soul.
Killed him for murder, first degree.
Judge's wife cried. Let the man go free.

I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but little girls understand.

Stand out there. Cop's wife cried.
Don't take him down. Rather be dead.
Six feets in the ground.
When you come home you can eat pork and beans.
I eats mo' chicken any man seen

I am a back door man.
I am a back door man.
Well the men don't know, but the little girls understand.


HOWLIN' FOR MY BABY

Pretty baby. Come on home. I love you.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darlin'.

She's hot like red pepper. Sweet like cherry wine.
I'm so glad she love me. Love me all the time.
She's my little baby, sweet as she can be.
All this love she's got, do belongs to me.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.

My baby. Come on home. I love you. Come on home.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.

Every time she kiss me, she makes the lights go out.
From early in the morning, she makes me jump and shout.
This bad love she got, makes me laugh and cry.
Makes me really know, that I'm too young to die.
If you hear me howlin', calling on my darling.

Come on. I love you. Pretty baby.

Reverend Pearly Brown doing Blind Willie Johnson - In My Time Of Dyin' lyrics

Lyrics to In My Time Of Dyin' :

Well, in my time of dyin', don't want nobody to moan
All I want for you to do is take my body home
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed

Well, meet me, Jesus, meet me, meet me in the middle of the air
If these wings should fail me, Lord, won't you meet me with another pair
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed

Lord, in my time of dyin', don't want nobody to cry
All I want you to do, is take me when I die
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well, well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make up
Jesus goin' make my dyin' bed


Reverend Pearly Brown doing Blind Willie Johnson - It's Nobody's Fault But Mine Lyrics to It's Nobody's Fault But Mine :

Nobody's fault but mine,
nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost

I have a bible in my home,
I have a bible in my home
If I don't read it my soul be lost

Mmm, father he taught me how to read,
father he taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine

Ah, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost

Ah, I have a bible of my own,
I have a bible of my own
If I don't read it my soul be lost

Oh, mother she taught me how to read,
mother she taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine

Ah, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul be lost

And sister she taught me how to read,
sister she taught me how to read
If I don't read it my soul be lost, nobody's fault but mine

Ah, mmm, Lord, Lord, nobody's fault but mine
If I don't read it my soul'd be lost, mmm


Aberdeen Mississippi 2:33 Trk 9

Bukka White (Booker T. Washington White)
Bukka White - vocal & guitar
& Washboard Sam (Robert Brown) - wshbrd.
Recorded: March 7th & 8th 1940 Chicago, Illinois
Album: Parchman Farm Blues, Roots RTS 33055
Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com


I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
I was over in Aberdeen
On my way to New Orlean
Them Aberdeen women told me
Will buy my gasoline

Hey, two little women
That I ain't ever seen
They has two little women
That I ain't never seen
These two little women
Just from New Orlean

Ooh, sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
I'm sittin' down in Aberdeen
With New Orlean on my mind
Well, I believe them Aberdeen women
Gonna make me lose my mind, yeah

(slide guitar & washboard)

Aber-deen is my home
But the mens don't want me around
Aberdeen is my home
But the men don't want me around
They know I will take these women
An take them outta town

Listen, you Aberdeen women
You know I ain't got no dime
Oh-oh listen you women
You know'd I ain't got no dime
They been had the po' boy
All up and down.

(guitar & washboard to end)


Fixin' To Die Blues lyrics

I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
And I believe I'm fixin' to die
Believe I'm fixin' to die
I'm lookin' funny in my eyes
Now, I believe I'm fixin' to die, yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah

Just as sho' we live
It's a, sho' we's born to die
Sho' we's born to die
Just as sho's we live
Sho' we's born to die
Yeah
I know I was born to die
But I hate to leave my children around cryin'
Yeah

Yo mother treated me, children
Like I was her baby child
Was her baby child
Yo mother treated me
Like I was her baby child
That's why's I sighed
Sighed so hard
And come back home to die
Yeah

So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
How my chillen's mother would cry
So many nights at the fireside
How my chillen's mother would cry
Yeah
'Cause I told the mother I had to say, goodbye

Look over yon-der
On the buryin' ground
On the buryin' ground
Look over yonder, on the burying ground
Yon' stand ten thousand
Standin' still to let me down
Yeah

(washboard & guitar)

Mother, take my chillen back
Before they let me down
Before they let me down
Mother, take my chillen back
'Fore they let me down
Ain't no need a-them screamin' an cryin'
On the graveyard ground.

(washboard & guitar to end)


Shake 'em On Down lyrics

Yes, you're a nice girl, mama
And little girl
Night before day
We gonna
Shake 'em on down

I need some time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down

Too much is debted to me
Through the week
Save these chili peppers
Some ol' rainy day, here

Best I'm hollerin', now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down, now

Fix my supper
Let me go to bed
This white lightnin' done gone
To my head

Oh, must I holler now
Ooh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', now
Must I shake 'em on down

I ain't been in Georgia, babe
I been told
Georgia women got the best
Jellyroll

These nights time holler, now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down

See See mama, heard
You, done-done
Made me love you, now I know
Man done coming

Best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin', mama
Must I shake 'em on down

Pretty girl's got
They don't know
What it is
Make me drunk at that old
Whiskey still

It's best I'm hollerin', now
Oh, must I shake 'em on down
I done shout hollerin'
Must I shake 'em on down.

Poor Boy Long Way From Home by Bukka White Lyrics

Poor boy a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
Poor boy I'm a long way from home
I don't have no happy home to go home to

When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
When I left my home my baby's in my arms
She wanna know, 'Daddy, when you comin' back home?'

(guitar)

They got me down here on the farm
Got me down here on old farm
I don't have no one to come and go my bail
Baby, I wanna come back home to you

(guitar)

Sorry, baby I can't call you over the phone
Sorry, I can't call you over the phone
'Cause they got me down here long distance phone
But I can't call you baby over the phone.

(guitar to end)