Happy Birthday Jim Kweskin-The Max Daddy Of Jug- *A “Blues Mama” For Our Times Encore- The Blues Of Maria Muldaur

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Maria Muldaur Performing " Richland Woman Blues".

CD Review

Sweet Lovin’ Ol’ Soul, Maria Muldaur, Stony Plain Records, 2005

I have often noted that when white women cover blues songs done by the old classic black singers like Memphis Minnie, Bessie Smith, Big Mama Thornton and the like some undefined ingredient is missing. Call it "soul" or the "miseries" or whatever you like but somehow the depths of a song are generally not reached. Not so here, as Maria Muldaur presents the second of an anticipated three albums covering some great classics of old time barrel house blues. (The first album was "Richland Woman's Blues", taking the title from a song by Mississippi John Hurt so you know Maria is reaching for the blues roots, no question).

Bessie Smith's "Empty Bed Blues" sticks out as do her duos with the legendary Taj Mahal. Blind Willie Johnson’s classic religiously-tinged “Take A Stand” and Bessie Smith's (with Clara Smith) “I’m Going Back” get their proper workout. The big highlight though (and a very necessary “re-discovery”) is the tribute to Memphis Minnie, “She Put Me Outdoors”. And a very necessary “discovery” of the very hard times, hard hustle and hard knocks of the female blues singer, “Tricks Ain’t Walkin”. More needs to be said on that question. As Maria points out in her liner notes some of these songs here are ones that she wanted to do earlier in her career but was either talked out or could not do justice to then. But now Maria knows she has paid her dues, I know she has paid her dues, and you will too. Listen.

Blues Lyrics - Mississippi John Hurt
Richland's Woman Blues
All rights to lyrics included on these pages belong to the artists and authors of the works.
All lyrics, photographs, soundclips and other material on this website may only be used for private study, scholarship or research.

Gimme red lipstick and a bright purple rouge
A shingle bob haircut
and a shot of good boo'

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' your horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone
Come along young man, everything settin' right
My husbands goin' away till next Saturday night

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' you horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone
Now, I'm raring to go, got red shoes on my feet
My mind is sittin' right for a Tin Lizzie
seat

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' you horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone
The red rooster said, "Cockle-doodle-do-do"
The Richard's' woman said, "Any dude will do"

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' you horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone
With rosy red garters, pink hose on my feet
Turkey red bloomer, with a rumble seat

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' you horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone
Every Sunday mornin', church people watch me go
My wings sprouted out, and the preacher told me so

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' you horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone
Dress skirt cut high, then they cut low
Don't think I'm a sport, keep on watchin' me go

Hurry down, sweet daddy, come blowin' you horn
If you come too late, sweet mama will be gone

*The Torch Singer's Torch Singer -The Sixtieth Anniversary Of Her Death-Lady Day-Billie Holiday- She Took Our Pain Away Despite Her Own Pains

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Billie Holiday performing Strange Fruit.

DVD REVIEW

Billie’s Best, Polygram Records, 1992

In my book, and I am hardly alone on this, Billie Holiday is the torch singer's torch singer. Maybe it is the phrasing on her best songs. That well-placed hush. Maybe it is the unbreakable link between her voice when she is on a roll and the arrangements. Hell, maybe in the end it was the dope but, by Jesus, she could sing a modern ballad of love, lost or both like no other. And if it was the dope, let me say this- a `normal' nice singer could sing for a hundred years and never get it right, the way Billie could get it right when she was at her best. Dope or no dope. Was she always at her best? Hell no, as the current compilation makes clear. These recordings done between 1945 and her death in 1959 for Verve show the highs but also the lows as the voice faltered a little and the dope put the nerves on edge toward the end.

Many of the songs on the current compilation are technically sound, a few not, as is to be expected on such re-mastering. You will like Come Rain or Come Shine, Stars Fell On Alabama and Stormy Blues. A tear will come to your eye with Some Other Spring and East of the Sun. The surprise of the package is Speak Low, a sultry song with tropical background beat. That one is very good, indeed.

One last word- I have occasionally mentioned my love of Billie Holiday's music to younger acquaintances. Some of their responses reflecting, I think, the influence of the movie version of her life (Lady Sings the Blues with Diana Ross) or some unsympathetic black history 'uplift' type views on her life have written her off as an 'addled' doper. Here is my rejoinder- If when I am blue and need a pick me-up and put on a Billie platter (CD)and feel better then, my friends, I do not give a damn about the dope. Enough said.

For Bob Dylan -Bringing It All Back Home, Indeed- Bob Dylan’s Later Work -"Time Out Of Mind"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip (Actually A Very Interesting Series Of Still Photos) Of Bob Dylan Doing "Highlands".

CD Review

Time Out Of Mind, Bob Dylan, Columbia Records, 1997

The first paragraph of this review has been used to review other later Bob Dylan CDs.

Okay, okay I have gone on and one over the past year or so about the influence of Bob Dylan’s music (and lyrics) on me, and on my generation, the Generation of ’68. But, please, don’t blame me. Blame Bob. After all he could very easily have gone into retirement and enjoyed the fallout from his youthful fame and impressed one and all at his local AARP chapter. But, no, he had to go out on the road continuously, seemingly forever, keeping his name and music front and center. Moreover, the son of a gun has done more reinventions of himself than one could shake a stick at (folk troubadour, symbolic poet in the manner of Rimbaud and Verlaine, heavy metal rocker, blues man, etc.) So, WE are left with forty or so years of work to go through to try to sort it out. In short, can I (or anyone else) help it if he is restless and acts, well, ….like a rolling stone?

All of this is by way of introduction to the latest group of CDs from the vaults of one Bob Dylan’s vast repertoire of musical interests. I note that there is a touch of going back, way back, and a life times’ summing up driving the music. I also note the increased emphasis on the music that influenced him early on in his rise to fame and many tips of the hat to the so-called American Songbook that he seemingly knows by heart. While we are all familiar with the various periodizations of the Dylan musical trajectory- folk troubadour a la Woody Guthrie, hard rockster, semi-Christian evangelical, old vaudeville showman and sentimental (for him) songster it is good to see him return ever more to his beginnings. “Bringing It All Back Home”, “Blonde On Blonde” and “Blood On The Tracks” will probably be his monuments in the folk/rock/pop pantheons but some of the late work, especially some of the covers of the early blues men like Skip James and Blind Willie McTell will endure as well.

Stick outs here include; "Love Sick', a pathos-filled (excuse the expression) homage to a life time of 'gone wrong' love; the ode to aging children "Trying To Get To Heaven": and, the "Desolation Row" long, highly poetic "Highlands". This is a darkly beautiful aging Dylan album. So what else is new, right?

Once Again Haunted By The Question Of Questions-Who Represented The “Voice” Of The Generation Of ’68 When The Deal Went Down-And No It Was Not One Richard Millstone, Oops, Milhous Nixon

By Seth Garth

I have been haunted recently by various references to events in the early 1960s brought to mind by either seeing or hearing those references. First came one out of the blue when I was in Washington, D.C. on other business and I popped in as is my wont to the National Gallery of Art to get an “art bump” after fighting the dearies at the tail-end of the conference that I was attending. I usually enter on the 7^th Street entrance to see what they have new on display on the Ground Floor exhibition areas. This time there was a small exhibit concerning the victims of Birmingham Sunday, 1963 the murder by bombing of a well-known black freedom church in that town and the death of four innocent young black girls and injuries to others. The show itself was a “what if” by a photographer who presented photos of what those young people might have looked like had they not had their precious lives stolen from them by some racist KKK-drenched bastards who never really did get the justice they deserved. The catch here, the impact on me, was these murders and another very disturbing viewing on television at the time, in black and white, of the Birmingham police unleashing dogs, firing water hoses and using the ubiquitous police billy-clubs to beat down on peaceful mostly black youth protesting against the pervasive Mister James Crow system which deprived them of their civil rights.

Those events galvanized me into action from seemingly out of nowhere. At the time I was in high school, in an all-white high school in my growing up town of North Adamsville south of Boston. (That “all white” no mistake despite the nearness to urban Boston since a recent look at the yearbook for my class showed exactly zero blacks out of a class of 515. The nearest we got to a black person was a young immigrant from Lebanon who was a Christian though and was not particularly dark. She, to my surprise, had been a cheer-leader and well-liked). I should also confess, for those who don’t know not having read about a dozen articles  I have done over the past few years in this space, that my “corner boys,” the Irish mostly with a sprinkling of Italians reflecting the two major ethic groups in the town I hung around with then never could figure out why I was so concerned about black people down South when we were living hand to mouth up North. (The vagaries of time have softened some things among them for example nobody uses the “n” word which needs no explanation which was the “term of art” in reference to black people then to not prettify what this crowd was about.)

In many ways I think I only survived by the good graces of Scribe who everybody deferred to on social matters. Not for any heroic purpose but because Scribe was the key to intelligence about what girls were interested in what guys, who was “going” steady, etc. a human grapevine who nobody crossed without suffering exile. What was “heroic” if that can be used in this context was that as a result of those Birmingham images back then I travelled over to the NAACP office on Massachusetts Avenue in Boston to offer my meager services in the civil rights struggle and headed south to deadly North Carolina one summer on a voting drive. I was scared but that was that. My guys never knew that was where I went until many years later long after we had all gotten a better gripe via the U.S. Army and other situations on the question of race and were amazed that I had done that.         

The other recent occurrence that has added fuel to the fire was a segment on NPR’s Morning Edition where they deal with aspects of what amounts to the American Songbook. The segment dealt with the generational influence of folk-singer songwriter Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are A-Changin’ as an anthem for our generation (and its revival of late in newer social movements like the kids getting serious about gun control). No question for those who came of political age early in the 1960s before all hell broke loose this was a definitive summing up song for those of us who were seeking what Bobby Kennedy would later quoting a line of poetry from Alfred Lord Tennyson call “seeking a newer world.” In one song was summed up what we thought about obtuse indifferent authority figures, the status quo, our clueless parents, the social struggles that were defining us and a certain hurried-ness to get to wherever we thought we were going.

I mentioned in that previous commentary that given his subsequent trajectory while Bob Dylan may have wanted to be the reincarnation Plus of Woody Guthrie (which by his long life he can rightly claim) whether he wanted to be, could be, the voice of the Generation of ’68 was problematic. What drove me, is driving me a little crazy is who or what some fifty plus years after all the explosions represented the best of what we had started out to achieve (and were essentially militarily defeated by the ensuing reaction before we could achieve most of it) in those lonely high school halls and college dormitories staying up late at night worrying about the world and our place in the sun.

For a long time, probably far longer than was sensible I believed that it was somebody like Jim Morrison, shaman-like leader of the Doors, who came out of the West Coast winds and headed to our heads in the East. Not Dylan, although he was harbinger of what was to come later in the decade as rock reassembled itself in new garb after some vanilla music hiatus but somebody who embodied the new sensibility that Dylan had unleashed. The real nut though was that I, and not me alone, and not my communal brethren alone either, was the idea that we possessed again probably way past it use by date was that “music was the revolution” by that meaning nothing but the general lifestyle changes through the decade so that the combination of “dropping out” of nine to five society, dope in its many manifestations, kindnesses, good thought and the rapidly evolving music would carry us over the finish line. Guys like Josh Breslin and the late Pete Markin, hard political guys as well as rabid music lovers and dopers, used to laugh at me when I even mentioned that I was held in that sway especially when ebb tide of the counter-cultural movement hit in Nixon times and the bastinado was as likely to be our home as the new Garden. Still Jim Morrison as the “new man” (new human in today speak) made a lot of sense to me although when he fell down like many others to the lure of the dope I started reappraising some of my ideas -worried about that bastinado fate.  

So I’ll be damned right now if I could tell you that we had such a voice, and maybe that was the problem, or a problem which has left us some fifty years later without a good answer. Which only means for others to chime in with their thoughts on this matter.         

For Bob Dylan *Bringing It All Back Home, Indeed- Bob Dylan’s Later Work -"Love And Theft"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Bob Dylan Doing His Arrangement Of "High Water" In Honor Of The legendary Bluesman Charley Patton.

CD Review

Love And Theft, Bob Dylan, Columbia Records, 2001

The first paragraph of this review has been used to review other later Bob Dylan CDs.

Okay, okay I have gone on and one over the past year or so about the influence of Bob Dylan’s music (and lyrics) on me, and on my generation, the Generation of ’68. But, please, don’t blame me. Blame Bob. After all he could very easily have gone into retirement and enjoyed the fallout from his youthful fame and impressed one and all at his local AARP chapter. But, no, he had to go out on the road continuously, seemingly forever, keeping his name and music front and center. Moreover, the son of a gun has done more reinventions of himself than one could shake a stick at (folk troubadour, symbolic poet in the manner of Rimbaud and Verlaine, heavy metal rocker, blues man, etc.) So, WE are left with forty or so years of work to go through to try to sort it out. In short, can I (or anyone else) help it if he is restless and acts, well, ….like a rolling stone?

All of this is by way of introduction to the latest group of CDs from the vaults of one Bob Dylan’s vast repertoire of musical interests. I note that there is a touch of going back, way back, and a life times’ summing up driving the music. I also note the increased emphasis on the music that influenced him early on in his rise to fame and many tips of the hat to the so-called American Songbook that he seemingly knows by heart. While we are all familiar with the various periodizations of the Dylan musical trajectory- folk troubadour a la Woody Guthrie, hard rockster, semi-Christian evangelical, old vaudeville showman and sentimental (for him) songster it is good to see him return ever more to his beginnings. “Bringing It All Back Home”, “Blonde On Blonde” and “Blood On The Tracks” will probably be his monuments in the folk/rock/pop pantheons but some of the late work, especially some of the covers of the early blues men like Skip James and Blind Willie McTell will endure as well.

Stick outs here include "High Water" (his tribute to the legendary Mississippi bluesman Charley Patton; a very lyrically mysterious "Mississippi"; a plaintive "Po' Boy": and, a seeming return to 1920's pop culture Rudy Vallee crooner-type "Bye And Bye".



"Charley Patton- High Water Everywhere (part 1) lyrics"

Well, backwater done rose all around Sumner now,
drove me down the line
Backwater done rose at Sumner,
drove poor Charley down the line
Lord, I'll tell the world the water,
done crept through this town
Lord, the whole round country,
Lord, river has overflowed
Lord, the whole round country,
man, is overflowed
You know I can't stay here,
I'll go where it's high, boy
I would goto the hilly country,
but, they got me barred
Now, look-a here now at Leland
river was risin' high
Look-a here boys around Leland tell me,
river was raisin' high
Boy, it's risin' over there, yeah
I'm gonna move to Greenville
fore I leave, goodbye
Look-a here the water now, Lordy,
Levee broke, rose most everywhere
The water at Greenville and Leland,
Lord, it done rose everywhere
Boy, you can't never stay here
I would go down to Rosedale
but, they tell me there's water there
Now, the water now, mama,
done took Charley's town
Well, they tell me the water,
done took Charley's town
Boy, I'm goin' to Vicksburg
Well, I'm goin' to Vicksburg,
for that high of mine
I am goin' up that water,
where lands don't never flow
Well, I'm goin' over the hill where,
water, oh don't ever flow
Boy, hit Sharkey County and everything was down in Stovall
But, that whole county was leavin',
over that Tallahatchie shore Boy,
went to Tallahatchie and got it over there
Lord, the water done rushed all over,
down old Jackson road
Lord, the water done raised,
over the Jackson road
Boy, it starched my clothes
I'm goin' back to the hilly country,
won't be worried no more

"High Water Everywhere (part 2)"

Backwater at Blytheville, backed up all around
Backwater at Blytheville, done took Joiner town
It was fifty families and children come to sink and drown
The water was risin' up at my friend's door
The water was risin' up at my friend's door
The man said to his women folk, "Lord, we'd better go"
The water was risin', got up in my bed
Lord, the water was rollin', got up to my bed
I thought I would take a trip, Lord,
out on the big ice sled
Oh, I can hear, Lord, Lord, water upon my door,
you know what I mean, look-a here
I hear the ice, Lord, Lord, was sinkin' down,
I couldn't get no boats there, Marion City gone down
So high the water was risin' our men sinkin' down
Man, the water was risin' at places all around,
boy, they's all around
It was fifty men and children come to sink and drown
Oh, Lordy, women and grown men drown
Oh, women and children sinkin' down Lord, have mercy
I couldn't see nobody's home and wasn't no one to be found

Once Again Haunted By The Question Of Questions-Who Represented The “Voice” Of The Generation Of ’68 When The Deal Went Down-And No It Was Not One Richard Millstone, Oops, Milhous Nixon

By Seth Garth

I have been haunted recently by various references to events in the early 1960s brought to mind by either seeing or hearing those references. First came one out of the blue when I was in Washington, D.C. on other business and I popped in as is my wont to the National Gallery of Art to get an “art bump” after fighting the dearies at the tail-end of the conference that I was attending. I usually enter on the 7^th Street entrance to see what they have new on display on the Ground Floor exhibition areas. This time there was a small exhibit concerning the victims of Birmingham Sunday, 1963 the murder by bombing of a well-known black freedom church in that town and the death of four innocent young black girls and injuries to others. The show itself was a “what if” by a photographer who presented photos of what those young people might have looked like had they not had their precious lives stolen from them by some racist KKK-drenched bastards who never really did get the justice they deserved. The catch here, the impact on me, was these murders and another very disturbing viewing on television at the time, in black and white, of the Birmingham police unleashing dogs, firing water hoses and using the ubiquitous police billy-clubs to beat down on peaceful mostly black youth protesting against the pervasive Mister James Crow system which deprived them of their civil rights.

Those events galvanized me into action from seemingly out of nowhere. At the time I was in high school, in an all-white high school in my growing up town of North Adamsville south of Boston. (That “all white” no mistake despite the nearness to urban Boston since a recent look at the yearbook for my class showed exactly zero blacks out of a class of 515. The nearest we got to a black person was a young immigrant from Lebanon who was a Christian though and was not particularly dark. She, to my surprise, had been a cheer-leader and well-liked). I should also confess, for those who don’t know not having read about a dozen articles  I have done over the past few years in this space, that my “corner boys,” the Irish mostly with a sprinkling of Italians reflecting the two major ethic groups in the town I hung around with then never could figure out why I was so concerned about black people down South when we were living hand to mouth up North. (The vagaries of time have softened some things among them for example nobody uses the “n” word which needs no explanation which was the “term of art” in reference to black people then to not prettify what this crowd was about.)

In many ways I think I only survived by the good graces of Scribe who everybody deferred to on social matters. Not for any heroic purpose but because Scribe was the key to intelligence about what girls were interested in what guys, who was “going” steady, etc. a human grapevine who nobody crossed without suffering exile. What was “heroic” if that can be used in this context was that as a result of those Birmingham images back then I travelled over to the NAACP office on Massachusetts Avenue in Boston to offer my meager services in the civil rights struggle and headed south to deadly North Carolina one summer on a voting drive. I was scared but that was that. My guys never knew that was where I went until many years later long after we had all gotten a better gripe via the U.S. Army and other situations on the question of race and were amazed that I had done that.         

The other recent occurrence that has added fuel to the fire was a segment on NPR’s Morning Edition where they deal with aspects of what amounts to the American Songbook. The segment dealt with the generational influence of folk-singer songwriter Bob Dylan’s The Times They Are A-Changin’ as an anthem for our generation (and its revival of late in newer social movements like the kids getting serious about gun control). No question for those who came of political age early in the 1960s before all hell broke loose this was a definitive summing up song for those of us who were seeking what Bobby Kennedy would later quoting a line of poetry from Alfred Lord Tennyson call “seeking a newer world.” In one song was summed up what we thought about obtuse indifferent authority figures, the status quo, our clueless parents, the social struggles that were defining us and a certain hurried-ness to get to wherever we thought we were going.

I mentioned in that previous commentary that given his subsequent trajectory while Bob Dylan may have wanted to be the reincarnation Plus of Woody Guthrie (which by his long life he can rightly claim) whether he wanted to be, could be, the voice of the Generation of ’68 was problematic. What drove me, is driving me a little crazy is who or what some fifty plus years after all the explosions represented the best of what we had started out to achieve (and were essentially militarily defeated by the ensuing reaction before we could achieve most of it) in those lonely high school halls and college dormitories staying up late at night worrying about the world and our place in the sun.

For a long time, probably far longer than was sensible I believed that it was somebody like Jim Morrison, shaman-like leader of the Doors, who came out of the West Coast winds and headed to our heads in the East. Not Dylan, although he was harbinger of what was to come later in the decade as rock reassembled itself in new garb after some vanilla music hiatus but somebody who embodied the new sensibility that Dylan had unleashed. The real nut though was that I, and not me alone, and not my communal brethren alone either, was the idea that we possessed again probably way past it use by date was that “music was the revolution” by that meaning nothing but the general lifestyle changes through the decade so that the combination of “dropping out” of nine to five society, dope in its many manifestations, kindnesses, good thought and the rapidly evolving music would carry us over the finish line. Guys like Josh Breslin and the late Pete Markin, hard political guys as well as rabid music lovers and dopers, used to laugh at me when I even mentioned that I was held in that sway especially when ebb tide of the counter-cultural movement hit in Nixon times and the bastinado was as likely to be our home as the new Garden. Still Jim Morrison as the “new man” (new human in today speak) made a lot of sense to me although when he fell down like many others to the lure of the dope I started reappraising some of my ideas -worried about that bastinado fate.  

So I’ll be damned right now if I could tell you that we had such a voice, and maybe that was the problem, or a problem which has left us some fifty years later without a good answer. Which only means for others to chime in with their thoughts on this matter.         

On Memphis Minnie's Birthday-***Her Castle's Rocking- The Blues Of Alberta Hunter

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Alberta Hunter performing "Nobody Knows You When You're Down And Out". Ain't that the truth.

DVD REVIEW

February Is Black History Month

March Is Women’s History Month

Alberta Hunter, Alberta Hunter (Jazz Masters Series), Shanachie Productions, 20005

The ideas in the first couple of paragraphs have been used elsewhere in this space in reviewing the works of other women of the early blues period.

One of the interesting facts about the development of the blues is that in the early days the recorded music and the bulk of the live performances were done by women, at least they were the most popular exponents of the genre. That time, the early 1920's to the 1930's, was the classic age of women blues performers. Of course, when one thinks about that period the name that comes up is the legendary Bessie Smith. Beyond that, maybe some know Ethel Waters. And beyond that-a blank.

Yet the blues singer under review, Alberta Hunter, probably had almost as a productive career (with a long gap in between while pursuing a nursing career after the death of her mother) as either of the above-mentioned names. That ‘second’ career got a big boost by her performance in the Geraldine Chaplin film “Remember My Name”. And here is the kicker. If you were to ask today's leading women blues singers about influences they will, naturally, give the obligatory Bessie response, but perhaps more surprisingly will also praise Ms. Alberta, as well.

This nice little archival DVD compilation, while not technically the best, will explain the why of the above paragraph. Alberta worked the cabaret circuit with many back up players over the years, some good some bad, but her style and her energy carried most of the production. She, like Memphis Minnie and others, was the mistress of the double entendre so popular in old time blues- you know phrases like `put a little sugar in my bowl'. Here we have a late performance in 1982 by Alberta Hunter just a few years before her death. While she had lost a few steps her voice held up well, and more importantly, that little sparkle in here eyes and in her devil-may-care manner carry this effort.

So what sticks out here? Well, a nice interview with Alberta between sets for one. As for the songs how about the now appropriate “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down And Out”. Bessie’s “Down Hearted Blues” works. As does “My Castle’s Rocking” and the salacious “My Handy Man”. A nice hour for those who love the old women blues singers.



"Nobody Knows You When You're Down And Out"

(by Jimmie Cox)

Once I lived the life of a millionaire,
Spent all my money, I just did not care.
Took all my friends out for a good time,
Bought bootleg whisky, champagne and wine.

Then I began to fall so low,
Lost all my good friends, I did not have nowhere to go.
I get my hands on a dollar again,
I'm gonna hang on to it till that eagle grins.

'Cause no, no, nobody knows you
When you're down and out.
In your pocket, not one penny,
And as for friends, you don't have any.

When you finally get back up on your feet again,
Everybody wants to be your old long-lost friend.
Said it's mighty strange, without a doubt,
Nobody knows you when you're down and out.

When you finally get back upon your feet again,
Everybody wants to be your good old long-lost friend.
Said it's mighty strange,
Nobody knows you,
Nobody knows you,
Nobody knows you when you're down and out.

"My Handy Man"

Whoever said a good man was hard to find,
Postively, absolutely sure was blind;
I found the best that ever was,
Here's just some of the things he does:

He shakes my ashes, greases my griddle,
Churns my butter, strokes my fiddle;
My man is such a handy man!

He threads my needle, creams my wheat,
Heats my heater, chops my meat;
My man is such a handy man!

Don't care if you believe or not,
He sure is good to have around;
Why, when my furnace gets too hot,
He's right there to turn my damper down!

For everything he's got a scheme;
You ought to see his new starter that he uses on my machine;
My man is such a handy man!

He flaps my flapjacks, cleans off the table, He feeds the horses in my stable; My man is such a handy man!

He's God's gift!

Sometimes he's up long before dawn,
Busy trimming the rough edges off my lawn;
Oooh, you can't get away from it! He's such a handy man!

Never has a single thing to say,
While he's working hard;
I wish that you could see the way
He handles my front yard!

My ice don't get a chance to melt away,
He sees that I get that old fresh piece every day;
Lord, that man sure is such a handy man!

On Memphis Minnie's Birthday- The Queen of The Blues- Bessie Smith

CD REVIEW

The Essential Bessie Smith, Bessie Smith, Columbia, two disc set, 1997

Elsewhere in this space I have mentioned that in the early days of the blues, at least the recorded blues, women vocalists dominated the market. One thinks of Mabel Smith and Ma Rainey in that regard. But the queen of the hill, and the one still best remembered, for roaring out those barrel house blues is Bessie Smith. This little two-disc compilation gives a very nice beginner cross section of the kind of subjects that she sang about-mainly broken-hearted love, no good men and the trials and tribulations of being a black woman on her own.

Bessie's music also represents the place, as with Blind Willie McTell on the male side, where the blues go from the Saturday night juke joints of farm, make that cotton, country to the more sophisticated Southern city locales. Furthermore, she along with Memphis Minnie were the queens of the now lost art of sexual double entendre- you know, 'put a little sugar in my bowl', 'take me for a buggy ride' and other classic lines of that type.

Be aware in listening to this compilation that the quality of the early recordings can be a little grating on the ear but bear with it because this thing just grows on you. It is rather an acquired taste but once you have the Bessie in your head you will not want to turn the damn thing off. Top selections here are a moanful , weary St Louis Blues, Weeping Willow Blues and a novelty song- Jazzbo Brown From Memphis Town that later singers have covered. Are these recordings all the essentials you need to bring you up to speed on Bessie? No way, but go back the first sentence of this paragraph-you will be saving your pennies to get the next album.

Empty Bed Blues, Bessie Smith EMI, 1991

Be aware listening to Bessie is rather an acquired taste but once you have the Bessie in your head you will not want to turn the damn thing off. Unlike compilations that start with her earlier material like Aggravatin' Papa where the quality of the recording gets in the way of your listening pleasure this one is mainly later material with better sound quality. Top selections here are a moanful , weary St Louis Woman, the sexy Easy Rider, the jump two parts of Empty Bed Blues of the title, the down and dirty Me and My Gin and the novelty song Jazzbo Brown From Memphis Town. Are these recordings all the essentials to bring you up to speed on Bessie? No way, but go back the first sentence of this paragraph- you will be saving your pennies to get the next album.

"Come To Mama" (And A Million Other Songs) -Blues Diva Etta James Passes On At 73

Click on the headline to link to an article on the passing of blues great Etta James.

From the American Left History blog:

Thursday, July 02, 2009

"Come To Mama"- The Blues Of Etta James

This is a little quick entry for a blues queen that I will write more, much more, about later in connection with a review of "Cadillac Blues", a film based on the history of Chicago's Chess Records that gave Etta her start. Feast on.
********
Here is a little tribute to a kindred spirit that the old time blues singer, Sippy Wallace, would call "sister".

"Come To Mama”- The Blues Of Ms. Etta James

Etta James And The Roots Band: Burning Down The House, Etta James and various artists, NTSC, 2001

The name Etta James goes back in my memory to associations with my first listening to rock music on the old transistor radio in the late 1950’s. At that time, I believe, her music was in the old doo wop tradition of the late 1950’s, a music that I was fairly soon to dismiss out of hand as the ‘bubble gum’ music that was prevalent in that period between the height of Elvis/Jerry Lee/Carl Perkins classic rock & rock and the Beatles and The Rolling Stones. That is where things were left until a dozen years ago or more when Etta ‘stole the show’ at the Newport Folk Festival. Well, we live and learn.

Here we have Etta, in a 2001 concert being recorded for this album, doing all the songs that she is justly famous for like “Born Blue” and “I Rather Be A Blind Girl” as well as some nice covers in her own style of the likes of Steppenwolf’s “Born To Be Wild”. Just a nice solid performance with a good back up band, including a couple of her sons.
******
Etta James- "Come To Mama" Lyrics

If the Sun goes behind the clouds
And you feel it's gonna rain
And if the moon ain't shinin bright
And the Stars, the Stars
Won't shine for you tonight
If your life is hard to understand
And your lovelife is out of hand
Oh, Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

If you need, if you need a satisfyer
Let me be, let me be your pacifyer
And if you feel, feelin like a horse
Chompin at the bit
Call my number 777-6969, I'll give you a fix
Cause I've got your favorite toy
Guaranteed to bring you joy
Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

Lead Solo


If your soul is on fire
Let me take you to the corner of the sky
Hey - Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

Come to Mama
Come on come on to Mama
COME ON TO MAMA.....

*From The "Black Man With A Library"- On The Intellectual Origins Of Hip-Hop

Clickon the headline to link to a "Black Man With A Library" entry- "On The Intellectual Origins Of Hip-Hop."

Today There Is Stormy Weather Indeed- Singer Lena Horne Passes At 92

Click on the headline to link to a "New York Times" entry for the late jazz/blues singer Lena Horne.


Markin comment:

I have hear the classic jazz/blues song "Stormy Weather", a song forever associated with the name of Lena Horne, done by many singers. None, and I mean none, ever had me stop doing what I was doing to listen, and listen again and again like Ms. Horne did. That is tribute enough, I think. Farewell, Lena.

"Stormy Weather" Lyrics

Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky
Stormy weather since my man and I ain't together
Keeps raining all the time, the time
Life is bare, gloom and misery everywhere
Stormy weather, just can't get my poor self together
It's raining all the time, the time

When you went, you went away, the blues walked in and met me
If he stays away, ol' rocking chair will get me
All I do is pray, the Lord above will let me walk in the sun once more

Can't go on, everything I had is gone
Stormy weather since my man and I ain't together
It's raining all the time

I walk around, heavy-hearted and sad
Night comes around and I'm still feeling bad
Rain's pouring down, blinding every hope I had
This pitterin pattering, beating and spattering drives Me Mad
Love, Love, Love, this misery's just too much for me

Can't go on, everything I have is gone
Stormy weather since my man and I ain't together
It's raining all the time, keeps raining all the time

*Songs To While The Class Struggle By- Lena Horne's "Stromy Weather"-With A Tear

Click on the headline to link to a "YouTube" film clip of the late Lena Horne performing her classic cover of "Stormy Weather" in sunnier days.

Markin comment:

Yes, with a tear.


"Stormy Weather" Lyrics

Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky
Stormy weather since my man and I ain't together
Keeps raining all the time, the time
Life is bare, gloom and misery everywhere
Stormy weather, just can't get my poor self together
It's raining all the time, the time

When you went, you went away, the blues walked in and met me
If he stays away, ol' rocking chair will get me
All I do is pray, the Lord above will let me walk in the sun once more

Can't go on, everything I had is gone
Stormy weather since my man and I ain't together
It's raining all the time

I walk around, heavy-hearted and sad
Night comes around and I'm still feeling bad
Rain's pouring down, blinding every hope I had
This pitterin pattering, beating and spattering drives Me Mad
Love, Love, Love, this misery's just too much for me

Can't go on, everything I have is gone
Stormy weather since my man and I ain't together
It's raining all the time, keeps raining all the time

*Once More Into The Time Capsule, Part One-The New York Folk Revival Scene in the Early 1960’s-Josh White

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Josh White perfroming "One Meat Ball"

CD Review

Washington Square Memoirs: The Great Urban Folk Revival Boom, 1950-1970, various artists, 3CD set, Rhino Records, 2001

"Except for the reference to the origins of the talent brought to the city the same comments apply for this CD. Rather than repeat information that is readily available in the booklet and on the discs I’ll finish up here with some recommendations of songs that I believe that you should be sure to listen to:

Disc One; Woody Guthrie on “Hard Travelin’”, Big Bill Broonzy on “Black , Brown And White”, Jean Ritchie on “Nottamun Town”, Josh White on “One Meat Ball” Malvina Reynolds on “Little Boxes”, Cisco Houston on “Midnight Special”, The Weavers on “Wasn’t That A Time”, Glenn Yarborough on “Spanish Is A Loving Tongue”, Odetta on “I’ve Been Driving On Bald Mountain”, The New Lost City Ramblers on “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”, Bob Gibson and Bob Camp on “Betty And Dupree”, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott on “San Francisco Bay Blues”, Peggy Seeger on “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”, Hoyt Axton on “Greenback Dollar” and Carolyn Hester on “Turn And Swing Jubilee”."

Josh White on “One Meat Ball”. As mentioned above Josh White, along with Big Bill Broonzy, were among the early forerunners of a more urbane bluesy sound to fit the needs of a more urbanized black musical sensibility (to speak nothing of the young white, hip crowds of the Café Society in New York City). And more upfront about the racially divided nature of this country. The genesis of this song, according to Dave Van Ronk on one of his CDs, is connected with Harvard Professor Child and his researches into the old ballads. However when I first heard it in my youth my association was always with the Greta Depression, hoboes and guys down on their luck. Hell, given the economic conditions today this one is due for a ‘discovery’.

One Meat Ball
(Calvin Russell)

Little man walked up and down,
To find an eatin' place in town.
He looked the menu thru and thru,
To see what a dollar bill might do.

CHORUS:
One meat ball,
One meat ball,
One meat ball,
All he could get was one meat ball.

He told that waiter near at hand,
The simple dinner he had planned.
The guests were startled one and all,
To hear that waiter loudly call.

Repeat CHORUS

Little man felt so ill at ease,
He said: "Some bread Sir, if you please."
The waiter hollered down the hall:
You get no bread with your one meat ball.

Little man felt so very bad,
One meat ball is all he had.
And in his dreams he can still hear that call
You get no bread with your one meat ball.

*Jazz Days On My Mind- The Music Of Mildred Bailey

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Mildred Bailey Performing "Rocking Chair".

CD Review

Thanks For The Memories: Mildred Bailey, Giants Of Jazz, 1996

Musically, I am a blues man. I am informed, malformed, deformed, reformed by the blues. Then I am a rock man. And a folk man, in all its variants. So where doe that lead me into an exposition of jazz that I have recently started to write more about in this space. Well, let’s just call it an extension of the blues (not hard to do by the way). And the clearest example of that is Lady Day, Billie Holiday. Yes, I know that she was a jazz singer extraordinaire. But, the way she swept my blues away when I was down in the dumps sure makes me think she was the queen of the blues (Bessie Smith being, of course, outlandishly the “Empress”).

All of this is by a very round about way of bringing the jazz singer under review, Mildred Bailey into the picture. Billie Holiday set the standard in the 1940’s (and to a lesser extent in the 1950’s when the dope started to get the best of her) for the phrasing of a jazz song, for the hush that signaled a new direction to the song, for the … well, underlying sense of the song. For that something unsayable but certainly knowable when a song is done right. Mildred Bailey and others (who will be highlighted here later) had that in spots and that is why she and this “greatest hits’ compilation of her work are being reviewed here.

So what sticks out here in that regard? How about her rendition of Duke Ellington’s “I Didn’t Know About You”. Or King Oliver’s “’Taint What You Do”. Or, for that matter, Crosby’s “ A Ghost Of A Chance”. And, of course, “Gulf Coast Blues”. Finally, though, let us see why she is a cut below Billie and Bessie- “St Louis Blues”. That is the cut line. But she still is good. Listen up.

*Today's Burning Question Of The Class Struggle- The Search For The Great Working Class Love Song (In English)- A Late Entry-"James Alley Blues"

Click on title to link link to YouTube's film clip of Rabbit Brown performing his James Alley Blues".

Markin comment November 17, 2009:

This is a late addition to the great working class love songs contest. This is from the famous "Harry Smith's Anthology Of American Folk Music". It is a classic. I note that the three selection are all male-voiced (ouch). Well, what about it? If women have a selection I would me more than happy to put it in the contest.


Markin comment:

No, old Markin has not gone off the deep end. But every once in a while I like to get a little whimsical, especially if I have music on my mind. Let’s face it , communist political realists that we are we cannot (or should not go) 24/7 on the heavy questions of health care, the struggle against the banks and other capitalist institutions, the fight for a working wage and the big fight looming ahead on Afghanistan without a little relief. So, for this moment, I ask this question –what is the great working class love song (in English)?

Now there are plenty of them I am sure but I control the stick today. You have to choose between my two (now three, see above)selections. Richard Thompson’s classic motorcycle love song (which, of course, if you read the lyrics, borders very closely to the lumpen proletarian-but so does working class existence, especially down among the working poor, for that matter). Or, Tom Waits’ version of the classic weekend- freedom seeking “Jersey Girl”. And, after that……… Obama, Troops Out Of Afghanistan- Free Quality Health care For All- Down With The Wall Street Bankers. See, I told you I had not gone off the deep end.




James Alley Blues

Times right now ain't nothin' like they used to be
Well times right now ain't nothin' like they used to be
You know I'll tell you all the truth, won't you take my word from me

Well I seen better days, but I ain't puttin' up with these
Well I've seen better days, but I ain't puttin' up with these
I had a lot better time with those women down in New Orleans

Well I was born in the country so she thinks I'm easy to lose
Well I was born in the country so she thinks I'm easy to lose
She wants to hitch me to a wagon and drive me like a mule

I bought her a gold ring and I pay the rent
I bought her a gold ring and I pay the rent
She tried to get me to wash her clothes but I got good common sense

Well if you don't want me then why don't you just tell me so?
Well if you don't want me then why don't you just tell me so?
It ain't like I'm a man that ain't got nowhere else to go

I give you sugar for sugar, but all you want is salt for salt
I give you sugar for sugar, but all you want is salt for salt
Well if you can't get along with me, then it's your own fault

Well, you want me to love you, but then you just treat me mean
Yea, you want me to love you, but then you just treat me mean
You're my daily thought and you're my nightly dream

Well, sometimes I think that you're just too sweet to die
Ah, sometimes I think that you're just too sweet to die
And other times I think that you ought to be buried alive


found on: The Harry Smith Connection: A Live Tribute

words: Rabbit Brown (traditional)

*"Come To Mama"- The Blues Of Etta James

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Etta James Performing "Tell Mama".

This is a little quick entry for a blues queen that I will write more, much more, about later in connection with a review of "Cadillac Blues", a film based on the history of Chicago's Chess Records that gave Etta her start. Feast on.

*********

Here is a little tribute to a kindred spirit that the old time blues singer, Sippy Wallace, would call "sister".

"Come To Mama”- The Blues Of Ms. Etta James

Etta James And The Roots Band: Burning Down The House, Etta James and various artists, NTSC, 2001

The name Etta James goes back in my memory to associations with my first listening to rock music on the old transistor radio in the late 1950’s. At that time, I believe, her music was in the old doo wop tradition of the late 1950’s, a music that I was fairly soon to dismiss out of hand as the ‘bubble gum’ music that was prevalent in that period between the height of Elvis/Jerry Lee/Carl Perkins classic rock & rock and the Beatles and The Rolling Stones. That is where things were left until a dozen years ago or more when Etta ‘stole the show’ at the Newport Folk Festival. Well, we live and learn.

Here we have Etta, in a 2001 concert being recorded for this album, doing all the songs that she is justly famous for like “Born Blue” and “I Rather Be A Blind Girl” as well as some nice covers in her own style of the likes of Steppenwolf’s “Born To Be Wild”. Just a nice solid performance with a good back up band, including a couple of her sons.



Etta James- "Come To Mama" Lyrics

If the Sun goes behind the clouds
And you feel it's gonna rain
And if the moon ain't shinin bright
And the Stars, the Stars
Won't shine for you tonight
If your life is hard to understand
And your lovelife is out of hand
Oh, Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

If you need, if you need a satisfyer
Let me be, let me be your pacifyer
And if you feel, feelin like a horse
Chompin at the bit
Call my number 777-6969, I'll give you a fix
Cause I've got your favorite toy
Guaranteed to bring you joy
Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

Lead Solo

+ de parolesAt Last I Just Want To Make Love To You Stormy Weather (keeps Rainin' All The Time) All I Could Do Was Cry Don't Cry Baby Hickory Dickory Dock Oh Happy Day Amen, This Little Light of Mine A Sunday Kind Of Love A Change Is Gonna Do Me Good

If your soul is on fire
Let me take you to the corner of the sky
Hey - Come to Mama
Come on to Mama

Come to Mama
Come on come on to Mama
COME ON TO MAMA.....

*Going Up Country, Blues Country That Is- Reverend Gary Davis And Sonny Terry Are In The House

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Reverend Gary Davis performing "Children of Zion" on Pete Seeger's 1960s television show "Rainbow Quest"

DVD Review

Masters of the Country Blues: Reverend Gary Davis & Sonny Terry, Reverend Gary Davis, Sonny Terry, Yazoo/Shanachie Productions, 2001

The names Reverend Gary Davis and Sonny Terry are no strangers in this space. Anytime one wants to speak “country blues” those names along with those of Son House, Bukka White and Sonny’s long time, if estranged, playing partner come easily to mind. I first heard the Reverend Gary Davis at one of the early Newport Folk Festivals. Now listen up. I didn’t like him that much them. Of course in those days it was Son House, Mississippi John Hurt and Skip James that got my attention. But Reverend Gary Davis grows on you, especially when he gets a righteous song to tear into for about ten minutes like “Twelve Gates Of The City” (actually performed by Sonny here in his segment). Here “If I Had My Way” (aka "Samson and Delilah"), although not that long fills the bill. As for Sonny, needless to say when he is hot on his harmonica, as he is here on “Hootin’ The Blues”- watch out. Hey, the producers who went back to the 1960s vaults in putting together this DVD knew these guys were the masters, Taj Mahal, a great bluesman in his own right, who introduces the segments, knew they were masters, I know they are the masters and now you will too? Enough said.


Reverend Gary Davis lyrics

Death Don't Have No Mercy

Death don't have no mercy in this land
Death don't have no mercy in this land
He'll come to your house and he won't stay long
You'll look in the bed and somebody will be gone
Death don't have no mercy in this land

Well Death will go in any family in this land
Well Death will go in every family in this land
Well he'll come to your house and he won't stay long
Well you'll look in the bed and one of your family will be gone
Death will go in any family in this land

Well he never takes a vacation in this land
Well old Death never takes a vacation in this land
Well he'll come to your house and he won't stay long
Well you'll look in the bed and your mother will be gone
Death never takes a vacation in this land

Talk
Great God
Yeah

Well he'll leave you standin' and cryin' in this land
Well Death will leave you standin' and cryin' in this land
Well he'll come to your house and he won't stay long
You'll look in the bed and somebody will be gone
Death will leave you standin' and cryin' in this land

Old Death always in a hurry in this land
Old Death always in a hurry in this land
Well he'll come to your house and he won't stay long
You'll look in the bed and your mother will be gone
Death always in a hurry in this land

Well he won't give you time to get ready in this land
Well he won't give you time to get ready in this land
Well he'll come to your house and he won't stay long
Well you'll look in the bed and somebody will be gone
Death won't give you time to get ready in this land

Make your last talk
Talk to me Death
Talk to me


transcribed by Cheryl Rhodes, who wrote, "from Blind Gary Davis/Harlem Street Songs recorded in Englewood Cliffs, NJ August 24, 1960 (according to the liner notes) and released on CD under the Prestige/Bluesville Records (Fantasy) label



Samson and Delilah

by Reverend Gary Davis
©Chandos Music

(From the album - Gospel, Blues and Street Songs)



If I had my way
If I had my way
If I had my way
I would tear this old building down

Well Delilah, she was a woman fine and fair
She had good looks, God knows and coal black hair
Delilah, she came to Samson's mind
The first he saw this woman that looked so fine
Delilah, she set down on Samson's knee
Said tell me where your strength lies if you please
She spoke so kind, God knows, she talked so fair
'til Samson said 'Delilah, you can cut off my hair
You can shave my head, clean as my hand
And my strength 'come as natural as any a man'

If I had my way
If I had my way
In this wicked world
If I had my way
I would tear this old building down

Talk, Yeah
Yeah, Talk to me
Yeah, Yeah, talk to me
Yeah, what happened then?

If I had my way
If I had my way
If I had my way
I would tear this old building down

Yeah you read about old Samson, told from his birth
He was the strongest man that ever had lived on Earth
So one day while Samson was-a-walkin' along
He looked on the ground and saw an old jawbone
He stretched out his arm, God knows, it broke like flint
When he got to movin' ten-thousand was dead, Mmm

If I had my way
If I had my way in this wicked world
If I had my way
I would tear this old building down

Well old Samson and the lion got attacked
Samson he jumped up on the lion's back
So you read about this lion had killed a man with his paws
But Samson got his hand in the lion's jaws
He rid that beast until he killed him dead
And the bees made honey in the lion's head

Good God!

If I had my way
If I had my way
If I had my way
I would tear this old building down

If I had my way
If I had my way in this wicked world
If I had my way
I would tear this old building down

Good God

Let Us Get Together

by Reverend Gary Davis
©Chandos Music


Let us get together
Right down here 4x

Let us walk together
Right down here 4x

Let us do our living
Right down here 4x

Let us have our heaven
Right down here 4x

break

Let us walk together
Right down here 4x

Let us do our rejoicing
Right down here 4x

*"I’d Rather Be The Devil That Be A Woman To That Man"- The Blues Of Rory Block

CD REVIEW

Gone Woman Blues: The Country Blues Collection, Rory Block, Rounder Records, 1997

I owe Rory Block one. Here is why. During the recently completed misbegotten American presidential campaign season I took more heat that one could shake a stick at for using the title of one of country blues master Skip James’ songs, “I’d Rather Be A Devil That To Be That Woman’s Man”, for some political blogs that I wrote in regard to the Hillary Clinton Democratic Party candidacy. For months I took it on the chin from my feminist friends as exhibiting some form of latent hostility to women, especially women candidates for president. (By the way, that was a totally false accusation. I would have been more than willing to vote for Victoria Woodhull on the Woman’s Equality ticket in 1872.) There one day I remembered through the mist of time singer/songwriter Rory Block’s change up rendition of the James’ classic which forms the headline to this entry. Thanks, Rory.

But more than that, thanks for this great album of country blues classics some famous, some a little obscure and known only to serious aficionados but all well worth placing in the album with the quirky little Rory Block treatment that makes many of the songs her own. Oh, did I also mention her virtuoso strong guitar playing. Well, that too. I have gone on and on elsewhere in this space about the old time women blues singers, mostly black, like Bessie Smith, Victoria Spivey and Ida Cox. I have also spilled some ink on more modern, mainly white, women blues singers like Bonnie Raitt, Maria Muldaur and a local talent here in Boston, Les Sampou, and their admirable (and necessary) efforts to carry on this proud tradition. Rory belongs right up there with these women.

But, enough homage. You get the drift. So what is good here? Of course the above-mentioned tune (named “Devil Got My Man” here). Thanks, again Rory. A couple of nice covers of the legendary Robert Johnson’s “Terraplane Blues’ and “Hellhound On My Trail”. I have mentioned in reviewing Johnson's work that his vocals are reedy and thin. Here Rory gives full-bodied treatment to the songs. Of course one must pay respects, as well, to her own CD title track "Gone Woman Blues”.

A couple of other Skip James tunes also deserve mention, “Be Ready When He Comes” (remember Skip turned to preaching after his very short first blues career) and “Cypress Grove”. Ms. Block also does a very sexy version of Hattie Hart’s double entendre “I Let My Daddy Do That”. Here is the kicker though. Bessie Smith made “Do Your Duty” rattle the house back in the day. I like Rory’s cover better. That, my friends, is high praise indeed as I was practically spoon-fed on Bessie back in my youth.

Skip James
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.

Skip James
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.

I Let My Daddy Do That lyrics
I've got a long black hair
I'll say very tall
I'm just about set to have my ashes hauled

I Let My Daddy Do That,
I Let My Daddy Do That

I Let My Daddy Do That,
Cause it satisfies my worried mind

I got a range in my kitchen
got a straightened door
when it get to hot,
I want my oven to cool
I Let My Daddy Do That
I Let My Daddy Do That

I Let My Daddy Do That
Cause it satisfies my worried mind

You can drink my liquor
wear my clothes
when it comes to time
to pay my dow
I Let My Daddy Do That
I Let My Daddy Do That

I Let My Daddy Do That
Cause it satisfies my worried mind

You can milk my cow
use the cream
when it comes to lovin that's just a dream
I Let My Daddy Do That
I Let My Daddy Do That

I Let My Daddy Do That
Cause it satisfies my worried mind

"Oh Janet you're on bar-b-que..."


You can crank my car
shift my gears
But when any easy ridin's gonna go on here
I Let My Daddy Do That
I Let My Daddy Do That

I Let My Daddy Do That
Cause it satisfies my worried mind


Have Mercy, Rory

Angel Of Mercy, Rory Block, Rounder Records, 1994

I recently, in reviewing Rory Block’s fine “Gone Woman’s Blues CD, noted that I owed her one. Here is why. During the recently completed misbegotten presidential campaign season I took more heat that one could shake a stick at for using the title of one of country blues master Skip James’ “I’d Rather Be A Devil That To Be That Woman’s Man” for some political blogs that I wrote in regard to the Hillary Clinton’s Democratic Party candidacy. For months I took it on the chin from my feminist friends as exhibiting some form of latent hostility to women, especially woman candidates for president. (By the way, that was a totally false accusation. I would have been more than willing to vote for Victoria Woodhull on the Woman’s Equality ticket in 1872.) There one day I remembered through the mist of time singer/songwriter Rory Block’s rendition of the James’ classic and which forms the headline to this entry. Thanks, Rory.

But thanks and kudos can only go so far. The present CD, “Angel Of Mercy”, leaves me cold. Rory, I believe, has always had two speeds. The natural blues one and the contemporary folk stylist one. That latter style is on display here and not to her benefit. Probably, and here I may get back into “hot water” politically, the main problem is that the lyrics of these songs do not “speak” to me. It could be age, it could be gender, it could be the wayward subjects but they just do not resonant with me. Not to worry though there are other Rory CDs that do “speak” to me and will get more a more positive review like the one given to “Gone Woman Blues”.

Pure Rory

CD Review

“I’ve Got A Rock In My Sock”, Rory Block, Rounder Records, 1989

Apparently I am to have a love/hate “relationship’ in reviewing the CDs of Ms. Rory Block. I have thus far expressed my gratitude for her fine work in her “Gone Woman’s Blues” album (as well as ‘saving’ me, see that review in this space for the details). I, however, had to pan her 1994 effort, “Angel Of Mercy”, as it did not “speak” to me. In that review I made the following point:

“… Rory, I believe, has always had two speeds. The natural blues one and the contemporary folk stylist one. That latter style is on display here and not to her benefit. Probably, and here I may get back into “hot water” politically, the main problem is that the lyrics of these songs do not “speak” to me. It could be age, it could be gender, it could be the wayward subjects but they just do not resonant with me. Not to worry though there are other Rory CDs that do “speak” to me and will get more a more positive review like the one given to “Gone Woman Blues”.”

Well, with this CD we are back on the positive side that I mentioned in that review. Partially it is due to the point above about letting her natural bluesy side show, as exemplified here by her own title track song” I’ve Got A Rock In My Sock”, Charley Patton’s “Moon’s Goin’ Down” and the Willie Brown classic “M&O Blues”. That tips it to the positive side, no matter what else is here. However, even her folk stylist persona is ratcheted up a notch on this one. “Love and Whiskey” is evocative and rings true as coming from someone having taken a few blows from life’s sometimes mysterious doings. And “Send The Man Back Home” is well; just good advise under the terms of the song's scenario. Kudos.

Ain't She A Woman

CD Review

Ain’t I A Woman, Rory Block, Rounder Records, 1992

Apparently I am to have a love/hate “relationship’ in reviewing the CDs of Ms. Rory Block. I have thus far expressed my gratitude for her fine work in her “Gone Woman’s Blues” album (as well as ‘saving’ me, see that review in this space for the details). The same for “I’ve Got A Rock In My Sock”. I, however, had to pan her 1994 effort, “Angel Of Mercy”, as it did not “speak” to me. In that review I made the following point:

“… Rory, I believe, has always had two speeds. The natural blues one and the contemporary folk stylist one. That latter style is on display here and not to her benefit. Probably, and here I may get back into “hot water” politically, the main problem is that the lyrics of these songs do not “speak” to me. It could be age, it could be gender, it could be the wayward subjects but they just do not resonant with me. Not to worry though there are other Rory CDs that do “speak” to me and will get more a more positive review like the one given to “Gone Woman Blues”.”

Well, with this CD we are back on the positive side that I mentioned in that review. Partially it is due to the point above about letting her natural bluesy side show, as exemplified here by her own title track song” Ain’t I A Woman”, the legendary blues man Robert Johnson’s “Come On In My Kitchen” and the little known (but should be) Lottie Kimbrough’s “Rolling Log”. That tips it to the positive side, no matter what else is here. However, even her folk stylist persona is ratcheted up a notch on this one. “Faithless World” like “Love and Whiskey” from the CD “I’ve Got A Rock In My Sock” is evocative and rings true as coming from someone having taken a few blows from life’s sometimes mysterious doings. A couple of Tommy Johnson songs round this one out. Kudos, again.

Once Again, Rory Have Mercy

CD REVIEW

Tornado, Rory Block, Rounder Records, 1996

Damn, apparently I really am to have a love/hate “relationship’ in reviewing the CDs of Ms. Rory Block. I have thus far expressed my gratitude for her fine work in her “Gone Woman’s Blues” album (as well as ‘saving’ me, see that review in this space for the details). The same for “I’ve Got A Rock In My Sock” and “Ain’t I A Woman”. I, however, had to pan her 1994 effort, “Angel Of Mercy”, as it did not “speak” to me. In that review I made the following point:

“… Rory, I believe, has always had two speeds. The natural blues one and the contemporary folk stylist one. That latter style is on display here and not to her benefit. Probably, and here I may get back into “hot water” politically, the main problem is that the lyrics of these songs do not “speak” to me. It could be age, it could be gender, it could be the wayward subjects but they just do not resonant with me. Not to worry though there are other Rory CDs that do “speak” to me and will get more a more positive review like the one given to “Gone Woman Blues”.”

Here we are “Angel Of Mercy’ turf again despite some good material and various all-star back up performers. That Block folk stylist nexus is on display here, as well as a bit of overall overproduction on most of the songs. Again, maybe it is that the lyrics just do not “speak” to me but something is off here. I will make one great exception for her inclusion of “Gone Woman Blues” from a previous CD mentioned above. I will make an even greater exception for an incredible cover of Andy Barnes “The Last Leviathan” (that’s right, about the fate of the whales, and us). Wow. That said, two out of eleven do not a great CD make.

*"Women Be Wise- Don't Advertise Your Man"- Blues Singer Sippy Wallace

DVD REVIEWS

Sippy Wallace, Volume 2, The Complete Works, 1925-1945, Sippy Wallace, Document Records, 1995

Women Be Wise, Sippy Wallace, Alligator Records, 1992

Okay, okay before we even start here let’s get something straight. I took more than my share of politically correct abuse from my feminist friends, including my companion, when I titled one of my reviews of the work of the legendary blues singer Skip James after the title of one of his songs- "I’d Rather Be The Devil Than Be That Woman’s Man". As penance I noted that the more contemporary blues singer/songwriter Rory Block covered that song and changed the words to "I’d Rather Be The Devil That Be A Woman To That Man". So here, for the politically pure of heart, or their wannabes, you can switch to suit your sexual or gender orientation.

But enough of that, for now because we have the serious business of discussing the blues, and an important component of that genre is the work of the "Texas Nightingale"- Sippy Wallace. Frankly, readers if you are going to discuss the blues you have to take the lyrics the way you find them and work around that. There is not a damn politically correct thing about them from male or female singers. Whiskey or dope. Mistreatin’ man or woman. Hard luck, bad luck or no luck. Anger, murderous intent, hostility. This is the language of the blues. If you want to clean it up go to the modern folk music section. But, my friends then you would be missing some very hard driving, evocative music from down at the base of society in Jim Crow days, especially when done by one of the classic blues singers.

Classic blues singers? Those are, mainly, the black female singers of the 1920’s, most famously the likes of Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey, who played mostly to black audiences in the South (although not solely, witness the career of Ethel Waters). Sippy fits right in there. You may not know her because her career was cut short (for a while) by a return to her Baptist gospel roots in order to get away from “the devil’s music”. This struggle has been a gnawing tension in the fate of more than one accomplished blues singer although usually, as in the case of Howlin’ Wolf and Son House among others, the devil 'wins'.

Sippy’s story has a nice ending though. She was “discovered” by the great folk/blues/country singer and songwriter Bonnie Raitt (who sat at the knee of Mississippi Fred McDowell to learn her craft) in the mid-1960s after covering the above-mentioned "Women Be Wise". Sippy then went on to have a successful revival until her death. That also allows this reviewer to kill two birds with one stone. This review is serving to comment on two Sippy CDs. One, "Sippy Wallace, Volume 2", The Complete Works, 1925-1945, Sippy Wallace, Document Records, 1995. The other, "Women Be Wise", Sippy Wallace, Alligator Records, 1992 so that one can compare quality of the two periods and the presentation of the same song in each period. I am more favorably impressed by her later work, partially because the technical quality of the recordings is better later but also partially because her voice is better later. But you decide. Check these out from Sippy Wallace- "Advise Blues", "Special Delivery Blues", "I’m A Mighty Tight Woman", "Lazy Man Blues", and "Bedroom Blues". Check these from "Women Be Wise"-"Women Be Wise", "Special Delivery Blues", "Caldonia Blues" (definitely), and "Up Country Blues".

The Hoodoo Lady- Memphis Minnie

CD REVIEW

Hoodoo Lady, Memphis Minnie, 1933-37, Sony, 1991

One of the interesting facts about the development of the blues is that in the early days the recorded music and the bulk of the live performances were done by women, at least they were the most popular exponents of the genre. That time, the early 1920's to the 1930's, was the classic age of women blues performers. Of course, when one thinks about that period the name that comes up is the legendary Bessie Smith. Beyond that, maybe some know Ethel Waters. And beyond that-a blank.

Yet the blues singer under review, Memphis Minnie, probably had as a productive career as either of the above-mentioned names. And here is the kicker. If you were to ask today's leading women blues singers like Bonnie Raitt, Rory Block, Tracey Nelson or Maria Muldaur about influences they will, naturally, give the obligatory Bessie response, but perhaps more surprisingly will also praise Ms. Minnie to the skies.

This compilation, while not technically the best, will explain the why of the above paragraph. Minnie worked with many back up players over the years, some good some bad, but her style and her energy carried most of the production. She was the mistress of the double entendre so popular in old time blues- you know phrases like `put a little sugar in my bowl'. The best of the bunch here are the title song Hoodoo Lady, Ice Man and Butcher Man but the real deal here is that this is an album you acquire a taste for-and then do not want to turn the damn thing off. That, for me, is high praise indeed.