*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-- "Rabbit" Brown's "James Alley Blues"-Wow!

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Richard "Rabbit" Brown's performance of "James Alley Blues" that was included in Harry Smith's anthology. I went crazy when I heard it long ago and I still go crazy now when I hear it.


The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure


James Alley Blues

Times ain't now nothing like they used to be
Oh times ain't now nothing like they used to be
And I'm tellin' you all the truth, oh take it for (from) me

I done seen better days but I'm puttin' up with these
I done seen better days but I'm puttin' up with these
I been havin' a much better time with these girls now I'm so hard to please

'Cos I was born in the country she thinks I'm easy to rule
'Cos I was born in the country she thinks I'm easy to rule
She try to hitch me to her wagon, she want to drive me like a mule

You know I bought some groceries and I paid the rent
Yes I buy some groceries and I pay the rent
She try to make me wash her clothes but I got good common sense

I said if you don't want me why don't you tell me so
You know, if you don't want me why don't you tell me so
Because it ain't like a man that ain't got nowhere to go

I've been givin' you sugar for sugar, let you get salt for salt
I'll give you sugar for sugar, let you get salt for salt
And if you can't get 'long with me well it's your own fault

How you wanted me to love you and you treat me mean
How do you want me to love you, you keep on treatin' me mean
You're my daily thought and my nightly dream

Sometimes I think that you too sweet to die
Sometimes I think that you too sweet to die
And another time I think you oughta be buried alive

Richard 'Rabbit' Brown - recorded New Orleans La 11 March 1927 Vi 20578

Source: Reissue on Various Artists 'Times Ain't Like They Used To Be:
Early American Rural Music Vol 2' Yazoo CD 2029. Alice Stuart made
a recording in which she adapted the words and turned it into a fine women's blu
es
('All the Good Times' Arhoolie LP F4002). More recently, Robin and
Linda Williams pinched some of Brown's words for the title track of their
'Sugar for Sugar' album (Sugar Hill SHCD 1052) with no credit at all given to hi
m.

This surely must be one of the greatest blues of all. The final couplet alone
is worth a hundred blues. Rabbit Brown was a native of New Orleans who
recorded a handful of marvellous blues in 1927. He had a gentle voice
and was an excellent guitarist. He grew up in the same James Alley between
Gravier Street and Parido Street where Louis Armstrong was born. Some of his
blues are scattered throughout various CD compilations and his complete
recordings are available on the Document label.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Spike Driver Blues" — Mississippi John Hurt (1928)

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.


From Scott Ainsie's blog

Spike Driver Blues (John Hurt)
INSTRUMENTAL INTRO/VERSE

Take this hammer and carry it to the captain,
Tell him I'm gone. Tell him I'm gone. Oh, tell him I'm gone.
Take this hammer and carry it to the captain,
Oh, tell him I'm gone. Tell him I'm gone. I sure am gone.

It's a long way from east Colorado, honey, to my home,
Honey to my home....
It's a long way from east Colorado, honey, to my home.
.....That's where I'm goin.

INSTRUMENTAL

John Henry was a steel drivin' man, but he went down.
But he went down....he sure went down.

John Henry he left his hammer, laying side the road.
John Henry he left his hammer, all over in rain.
All over in rain. Laying side the road.

INSTRUMENTAL

This is the hammer that killed John Henry, Lord, it won't kill me.
This is the hammer that killed John Henry, but it won't kill me....sure won't kill me.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Prison Cell Blues" — Blind Lemon Jefferson (1928)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

Prison Cell Blues

Getting tired of sleeping in this lowdown lonesome cell
Lord, I wouldn't have been here if it had not been for Nell

Lay awake at night and just can't eat a bite
Used to be my rider but she just won't treat me right

Got a red-eyed captain and a squabbling boss
Got a mad dog sergeant, honey, and he won't knock off

I'm getting tired of sleeping in this lowdown lonesome cell
Lord, I wouldn't 've been here if it had not been for Nell

I asked the government to knock some days off my time
Well, the way I'm treated, I'm about to lose my mind

I wrote to the governor, please turn me a-loose
Since I don't get no answer, I know it ain't no use

I'm getting tired of sleeping in this lowdown lonesome cell
Lord, I wouldn't have been here if it had not been for Nell

I hate to turn over and find my rider gone
Walking across my floor, Lordy, how I moan

Lord, I wouldn't have been here if it had not been for Nell
I'm getting tired of sleeping in this lowdown lonesome cell

Three Score And Ten- Happy Birthday Bob Dylan- The Endless Tourist

Click on the headline to link to an American Left History entry on some of birthday boy Bob Dylan’s earlier work.

Markin comment:

No question Bob Dylan, his early folk-inspired protest songs, and his persona had a great influence on me, and my generation, the generation of ’68, period. Whether he was the “voice” of our generation, or a voice is seriously open to question but what is not is his long-standing commitment to keep pushing the music envelope. And to do so relentlessly , for whatever reason, if only to keep himself from the easy old man rocking chair. His place in the music pantheon (folk, folk rock, rock, popular, country, mountain, Tin Pan Alley, whatever, he has respectable niches in each) and with many chapters in the American songbook is secure. Keep moving, brother.
*******
Line for line Desolation Row is my number one Bob Dylan song. It is the one that I sing (to myself) on those glooming days we all have. Do I know all the lines by heart from memory. No way. This is not unlike the fate of a lot of Dylan songs, as a well-know musician once reminded me. We all remember about half the verses of many Dylan songs on recall. True, brother, true.
********
Desolation Row Lyrics
Bob Dylan


They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row.

Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row.

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row.
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row.

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
You would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row.

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row.
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In a perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get outa here if you don't know"
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row.

At midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row.

Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
Everybody's shouting
"Which side are you on ?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row.
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
About the time the door knob broke
When you asked me how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke ?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Dont send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row.

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- Ms. Wise To You

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of G.B. Grayson performing the old time ballad Ommie Wise.

Ommie Wise Lyrics

Oh, listen to my story, I'll tell you no lies,
How John Lewis did murder poor little Omie Wise.
He told her to meet him at Adams's Springs.
He promised her money and other fine things.

So, fool-like she met him at Adams's Springs.
No money he brought her nor other fine things.

"Go with me, little Omie, and away we will go.
We'll go and get married and no one will know."

She climbed up behind him and away they did go,
But off to the river where deep waters flow.

"John Lewis, John Lewis, will you tell me your mind?
Do you intend to marry me or leave me behind?"

"Little Omie, little Omie, I'll tell you my mind.
My mind is to drown you and leave you behind."

"Have mercy on my baby and spare me my life,
I'll go home as a beggar and never be your wife."

He kissed her and hugged her and turned her around,
Then pushed her in deep waters where he knew that she would drown.

He got on his pony and away he did ride,
As the screams of little Omie went down by his side.

T'was on a Thursday morning, the rain was pouring down,
When the people searched for Omie but she could not be found.

Two boys went a-fishin' one fine summer day,
And saw little Omie's body go floating away.

They threw their net around her and drew her to the bank.
Her clothes all wet and muddy, they laid her on a plank.

Then sent for John Lewis to come to that place --
And brought her out before him so that he might see her face.

He made no confession but they carried him to jail,
No friends or relations would go on his bail.

Was Rebecca Malone wise? That was all the rage conversation over the shawlie clothesline wires that week in the hamlet of Adamsville Junction among the Little Ireland denizens of the cold water flats, triple-decker cold water flats, that lined Atlantic Street and Sea Street in that fair locale. The previous week it had been whether Laura Kenny should, or should not, allow her daughter Jennifer to leave the neighborhood public school and attend Miss Woodward’s Academy for Girls to further her education. (The shawlies split down the middle on that one).

The week before that the question was whether Jimmy Pearse, should or shouldn’t be drawn and quartered, or worst, for robbing Sid Smith’s Gas Station of twenty seven dollars and some change. The penalty to be imposed was not for the robbery itself but, one, for bringing shame on dear pious church-going Mrs. Pearse’s household, and, two, for exposing to one and all the fact that his theft was done to provide some food for the table of that penniless family. (The overwhelming opinion on that one was he should indeed be drawn and quartered for “airing the dirty linen in public.”) That week thought the question before the “council” was whether an orphan girl like Rebecca Wise should rise too far above her station and be seen all over greater Adamsville Junction riding in son of wealth Jack Lewis’ sporty brand new 1956 Buick convertible. (They overwhelming answered that no good could come of it, no good at all.)

Despite that community judgment Rebecca Wise did continue to see one John (Jack) Lewis, the heir apparent to the Lewis textile fortune. But perhaps we should back up just a bit to find out how our Orphan Annie attracted the eye of young Jack. The details of Rebecca’s birth were rather obscure, although the shawlie speculation, usually acutely accurate on such matters, had it that her mother, a cleaning woman over at the Lewis Mills, had been gotten “in the family way” by some person unknown, had left the child on Father Bill’s doorstep over at Saint Anne’s, and had fled town for parts unknown. Subsequently she was raised, and raised well, according to that same grapevine, by Sam Malone and his family of six over on Sea Street.

Orphan or not, well raised or not, Rebecca was a beauty. Was a beauty when she came of age. Long red hair (like her mother’s if the shawlie speculation was correct), tall and thin with well-turned legs and ankles. Many a Sea Street lad (and not just Sea Street, and no just lads either) spent a wistful afternoon (or midnight) dreaming about fair Rebecca. To no avail. Until Jack Lewis showed up one day in front of the Malone residence honking his horn several times for Rebecca to come out for a ride.

The details of where and how they met were a little sketchy, shawlie sketchy, and so they probably were. The best guess was that the pair had met in high school where they were known to have classes together and had some secret “crush” on each other that never got past first base because Jack was always, always, seen exclusively in the company of Lisa Adams, the daughter of the owner the Adams Chemical Company. Then Jack had gone off to college, and Rebecca to work in the Lewis Mills. Next thing that was known Jack was honking horns on Sea Street to beat the devil.

Now the rest of the story was pieced together after the fact from some witnesses, other evidence discovered, and from the police reports. Jack and Rebecca were always around town together for the next several months after that first open encounter at the Malone house. Then Rebecca was not seen at the Malone home for a few days, and Jack‘s stick-out convertible was not seen around town either. Sam Malone contacted the police with the story and here is what they found out when, after several days, they eventually found Rebecca’s body washed up on the shore at the far end of Adamsville Beach near the furious breakwater jetty.

Jack and Rebecca had not only been seen riding around town but had been seen a number of times (the hotel records listed over twenty) at the Hotel Majestic over in Centralia about twenty miles away. Somehow along the way during those Centralia (or elsewhere but no records were found) trysts Jack had gotten Rebecca “in the family way.” (I am being delicate here in case shawlie eyes read this). And that is where the problems started. Or ended. Rebecca had told one of her friends (one of her jealous over Jack friends), Lily Gillis, that if she would “do it” (again for those shawlie eyes)
Jack would marry her if anything happened, anything family way happened.
When Rebecca came up missing and Lily heard of it she reported that fact to the police and that started the long thread back.

See Jack while smitten (like I said just like every other guy in town) with Rebecca and while more than willing to take her to nice places to have sex (oops) had this little problem, or really two problems, One , unlike , Rebecca toward him, he did not love her. Two, Jack Lewis, had been practically since birth, engaged to Lisa Adams so the two houses could merge. So a pregnant, very pregnant according to the coroner’s report, orphan girl was in the way. One does not need to be a master detective to figure out what happened next.

Jack took Rebecca down to the Adamsville Beach jetty, a favorite spot for young and old to watch the sea changes, and as they walked the granite slabs he pushed her into the foaming sea. Case closed, murder one, hang the bastard. Not so quick. When they found Jack a couple of weeks later in Olde Saco, Maine, where the family had a summer home, he denied everything, denied even having seen Rebecca for weeks before. (Lisa provided some alibis for some of the times.) They kept him in jail a while but after a few months with no further evidence to pin anything on him, he walked. Yah those shawlies were right, no good could come of the relationship between Mr. Lewis and Ms. Murphy. Damn.

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- When Harry Smith Ruled The Whole Wide World- Folk World That Is

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of the Memphis Jug Band performing in the Harry Smith 1920s night.

Joshua Lawrence Breslin comment:

Back the 1960s folk revival minute my old friend, socialist propagandist and amateur folk revival archivist Peter Paul Markin, was a real piece of work. I will never forget the conversation on the subject of folk music, the early stuff, on one of the first nights after I had met him. (It was really a Pee-Pee monologue. By the way in those days he was known under the moniker of Be-Bop Benny so don’t let him know I am calling him Pee-Pee here.) I had just met him and the rest of the motley crew of Captain Crunch’s merry prankster yellow brick road bus at a park up on Russian Hill in San Francisco in the summer of love, 1967 version, after I had hitchhiked my way across the country from my Olde Saco, Maine hometown.

He, in a hail of bong fire (figure it out for yourselves what we were doing), started going on and on about this guy Harry Smith, kind of a screwy guy when all was said and done, who almost single-handedly created the better parts of the American Folk Songbook. I, just out of high school, just bumming around looking for some adventure, and mainly just getting away from squaresville Olde Saco, was just barely “on the bus” with Bob Dylan and his electric folk stuff so, at the time , and for a long time after this Pee-Pee’s raving was just so much air.

But one thing about Pee-Pee and his obsessions, he doesn’t give up easily. Every once in a while, usually after some bong fire hit, he would return to the subject in little snippets. Like did I realize that the Jim Kweskin Jug Band (I was crazy for Maria Muldaur) played a lot of stuff that the Memphis Jug Band played in the 1920s. Or that the real way to understand that old lonesome and distressing mountain music brought from the old country (the British Isles old country, just to keep things straight) and planted in Appalachia was to listen to Clarence Ashley or Buell Kazee render their versions of songs such as East Virginia. Or that guys like Uncle Dave Mason, and guys like that, worked the carny, vaudeville, back alley circuit honing their skills before live audiences. Or that non-electric juke joints, church Sunday, and plantation prisons were keys to understanding the way black music evolved into blues, jazz, hip-hop, rap and so on.

Basically old Pee-Pee spoon fed me in little doses (knowing my attention span for non- electric acid-etched rock was minimal in those days) the great expanse of the American folk songbook. As time went on that funny old guy with eclectic tastes, Harry Smith (and, additionally the Lomaxes, father and son, and the Seegers, father and sons, help fill it out), started to look no so eccentric. So when my time came to listen to Harry’s now famous Anthology of American Folk Music they had to practically pry me from the CD player before I wore it out playing the eighty-odd songs repeatedly. Ya, that old Pee-Pee was sure a real piece of work

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:

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-Rabbit Brown

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

* In Folklorist Harry Smith's House- The Memphis Jug Band- "K.C. Moan"

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of The Memphis Jug Band performing "K.C. Moan" from the Harry Smith anthology. Another wow!

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure

K. C. Moan
Lyrics: Traditional
Music: Traditional

Well, I thought I had heard that K C when she moan
Thought I heard that K C when she moan
Thought I heard that K C when she moan
Well, she sound like she got a heavy load

Yes and when I get back on the K C road
When I get back on the K C road
When I get back on the K C road
Gonna love my woman like I never loved before


Well I thought I heard that K C whistle moan
Well I thought I heard that K C whistle moan
Well I thought I heard that K C whistle moan
Well she blow like my woman's on board

When I get back on that K C road
When I get back on that K C road
When I get back on that K C road
Gonna love my baby like I never loved before

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Fishing Blues" — Henry Thomas (1928)

Click on the title to link to a presentation by the artist or of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure

Henry Thomas - Fishing Blues Lyrics

Went up on the hill about twelve o'clock.
Reached right back and got me a pole.
Went to the hardware and got me a hook.
Attached that line right on that hook.
Says you've been a-fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin' fishin' too.

I bet your life, your lovin'wife.
Can catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite if you've got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm a-goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.

Looked down the river about one o'clock.
Spied this catfish swimmin' around.
I've got so hungry, didn't know what to do.
I'm gonna get me a catfish too.

Yes, you've been fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.
I bet your life your lovin' wife.
Catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite, got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.

Put on your skillet, don't never mind your lead.
Mama gonna cook 'em with the short'nin' bread.
Says you been fishin' all the time.
I'm a-goin a-fishin' too.
I bet your life, your lovin' wife.
Can catch more fish than you.
Any fish bite, if you've got good bait.
Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate.
Any fish bite, you've got good bait.
I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin',
I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Bob Lee Junior Blues" — The Memphis Jug Band (1927)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"The Spanish Merchant's Daughter" — The Stoneman Family (1930)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

The Spanish Merchant's Daughter

Tarry Trousers
Download Midi File
John Renfro Davis

Information Lyrics

This version is from Sam Henry's Songs of the People. He relates it to sixteen different songs and cross references it to fourteen others! One of the songs it is related to is Oh No, John! Other versions of the song are a conversation between a mother and her daughter.
Tarry trousers refers to the sailor's practice of waterproofing their trousers with tar. This may be among the reasons sailors were referred to as "tars," a term used since 1676. Between 1857 and 1891 sailors also wore black 'tarpaulin' hats (boater-shaped with ribbon around the crown). The term "Jack Tar" has been in use since the 1780s.

A song with a theme similar to Oh No, John!, The Dumb Lady, Or, No no not I, I'le answer, was printed on a broadside circa 1672-84. It also appears in an earlier manuscript (circa 1635-40) but the lyrics are unreadable due to waterstains. It was published as Consent at Last in Thomas D'Urfey's Wit and Mirth or Pills to Purge Melancholy in 1700. It is also known as The Spanish Merchant's Daughter.


Yonder stands a pretty maiden,
Who she is I do not know,
I'll go court her for her beauty,
Let her answer yes or no.

'Pretty maid, I've come to court you,
If your favour I do gain
And you make me hearty welcome,
I will call this way again.'

'Sit you down, you're heart'ly welcome,
Sit you down and chat a while,
Sit you down, you're heart'ly welcome,
Suppose you do not call again?'

'Pretty little maid, I've gold and riches,
Pretty little maid, I've houses and lands,
Pretty little maid, I've worldly treasures.
And all will be at your command.'

'What do I care for your worldly treasures?
What do I care for your houses and lands?
What do I care for your gold and riches?
All that I want is a nice young man.'

'Why do you dive so deep in beauty?
It is a flower will soon decay,
It's like the rose that blooms in summer
When winter comes, it fades away.'

'My love wears the tarry trousers,
My love wears the jacket blue,
My love ploughs the deep blue ocean,
So, young man, be off with you.'


Variants at this site:
Oh No, John (1) (A set of bawdy lyrics)
Oh No, John (2) (Sanitized lyrics from Cecil Sharp)

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Mountaineer's Courtship" — Ernest Stoneman and Hattie Stoneman (1926)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"I Wish I Was a Mole In the Ground" — Bascom Lamar Lunsford (1928)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.


Digital Tradition Mirror

I Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground

(This score available as ABC, SongWright, PostScript, PNG, or PMW, or a MIDI file)
Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available


I Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground

I wish l was a mole in the ground.
Yes, I wish I was a mole in the ground:
'F I'se a mole in the ground, l'd root that mountain down,
And I wish I was a mole in the ground.

Oh, Kimpy wants a nine-dollar shawl.
Yes, Kimpy wants a nine-dollar shawl;
When I come o'er the hill with a forty-dollar bill,
'Tis "Baby, where you been so Iong?"

I been in the pen so long.
Yes, I been in the pen so long;
l been in the pen with the rough and rowdy men.
'Tis "Baby, where you been so long?"

I don't like a railroad man.
No, l don't like a railroad man;
'Cause a railroad man they'll kill you when he can,
And drink up your blood like wine.

I wish I was a lizard in the spring.
Ycs, l wish I was a l;zard in the spring;
'F I'se a lizard in the spring, I'd hear my darlin' sing,
An' I wish l was a lizard in the spring.

Come, Kimpy, let your hair roll down.
Kimpy let your hair roll down;
Let your hair roll down and your bangs curl around,
Oh, Kimpy, let your hair roll down.

l wish I was a mole in the ground.
Yes, I wish I was a mole in the ground:
'F I'se a mole in the ground, I'd root that mountain down,
An'I wish I was a mole in the ground.

From Bascom Lamar Lunceford.
RG

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House- "Sugar Baby" — Dock Boggs (1928)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

Sugar Baby

Oh I've got no sugar baby now
All I can do is to seek peace with you
And I can't get along this a-way
Can't get along this a-way

All I can do, I've said all I can say
I'll send it to your mama next payday
Send you to your mama next payday.

I got no use for the red rockin' chair,
I've got no honey baby now
Got no sugar baby now

Who'll rock the cradle, who'll sing the song
Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone
Who'll rock the cradle when I'm gone?
I'll rock the cradle, I'll sing the song
I'll rock the cradle when you gone.

It's all I can do
It's all I can say,
I will send you to your mama next payday

Laid her in the shade, give her every dime I made
What more could a poor boy do
What more could a poor boy do?

Oh I've got no honey baby now
Got no sugar baby now

Said all I can say, I've done all I can do
And I can't make a living with you
Can't make a living with you



found on: The Harry Smith Connection: A Live Tribute

words: Doc Boggs (traditional)

last performed: October 21, 1999, Lounge Ax, Chicago (Tweedy)

back to the Wilco lyrics archive

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"I Woke Up One Morning In May" — Didier Hebert (1929)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Minglewood Blues" — Cannon's Jug Stompers (1928)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.


Minglewood Blues

Well don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

Well I got a letter mama and you ought to heard what it read
Lord I got a letter mama and you ought to heard what it read
If you're comin' back baby now's your only chance

Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

So don't you wish that your fair girl was li'l and cute like mine
Boy don't you wish that your fair girl was li'l and cute like mine
Well she's a married woman, Lord she comes to see me some time

Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

Well I got a letter mama and you ought to heard what it read
Lord I got a letter mama and you ought to heard what it read
If you're comin' back baby now's your only chance

Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

So don't you wish that your fair girl was li'l and cute like mine
Boy don't you wish that your fair girl was li'l and cute like mine
Well she's a married woman, Lord she comes to see me some time

Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

Well I got a letter mama and you ought to heard what it read
Lord I got a letter mama and you ought to heard what it read
If you're comin' back baby now's your only chance

Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

So don't you wish that your fair girl was li'l and cute like mine
Boy don't you wish that your fair girl was li'l and cute like mine
Well she's a married woman, Lord she comes to see me some time

Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, and worried all the time

Well don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Don't you never let no woman rule your mind
Well she'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

She'll leave you troubled, worried all the time

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"East Virginia" — Buell Kazee (1929)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

"East Virginia"

I was born in East Virginia,
North Carolina I did roam,
There I met a fair young lady,
Her name I do not know.

Oh Her hair was dark and curly,
And her cheeks were rosy red,
On her breast she wore white lilies,
There I long to lay my head.

I dont want your greenback dollar,
I dont want your watch and chain,
All I want's your heart darling,
Say you'll take me back again.

The ocean's deep and I can't wade it
And I have no wings to fly
I'll just get me a blue eyed boatman
Or you'll row me over the tide

I'll go back to East Virginia
North Carolina ain't my home
I'll go back to East Virginia
Leaving North Carolinians alone

I'll go back to East Virginia
North Carolina ain't my home
I'll go back to East Virginia
Leaving North Carolinians alone

In case I missed anything here is the full song

I was born in East Virginia,
North Carolina I did go,
There I met a fair young lady,
And her name I do not know.

Oh, her hair was dark and curly,
And her cheeks were rosy red,
On her breast she wore white lilies,
Where I long to lay my head.

I don't want your greenback dollar,
I don't want your watch and chain,
All I want's your heart darling,
Say you'll take me back again.

The ocean's deep and I can't wade it,
And I have no wings to fly,
I'll just get me a blue eyed boatman,
Or you'll row me over the tide.

I'll go back to East Virginia,
North Carolina ain't my home,
I'll go back to East Virginia,
Leaving North Carolinians alone.

I'll go back to East Virginia,
North Carolina ain't my home,
I'll go back to East Virginia,
Leaving North Carolinians alone.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-Volume Three: Songs-"The Coo Coo Bird" — Clarence Ashley (1929)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

"The Coo Coo Bird (Cuckoo)"

Oh the cuckoo she's a pretty bird
She warbles as she flies
She never hollers coo coo till the fourth day
of July

Gonna build me log cabin
On a mountain so high
So I can see Willie as he goes on by

Well I've played cards in Texas
And I've played cards in Maine
Oh I'll bet you five dollars I'll beat you
next game

Jack of Diamonds Jack of Diamonds
Oh I know you of old
You robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold

Rye whiskey, rye whiskey
Oh I know you of old
You robbed my poor pockets of silver and gold

*Sometimes I feel much younger
Sometimes I feel so old
Sometimes the warm sun shines sometimes it's
dreadful cold

Oh the cuckoo she's a pretty bird
How I wish she was mine
She never drinks water she only drinks wine

(repeat first verse)

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"I'm In the Battle Field for My Lord" — Rev. D.C. Rice and His Sanctified Congregation (1929)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.

*In Folklorist Harry Smith’s House-"Fifty Miles of Elbow Room" — Rev. F.W. McGee (1931)

Click on the title to link to a presentation of the song listed in the headline.

The year 2009 has turned into something a year of review of the folk revival of the 1960s. In November I featured a posting of many of the episodes (via “YouTube”) of Pete Seeger’s classic folk television show from the 1960s, “Rainbow Quest”. I propose to do the same here to end out the year with as many of the selections from Harry Smith’s seminal “Anthology Of American Folk Music,” in one place, as I was able to find material for, either lyrics or "YouTube" performances (not necessarily by the original performer). This is down at the roots, for sure.