* Hard Times In Babylon, Again- "Poor Man's Heaven"- Song Of The Great Depression Of The 1930's (The Other One)

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Clip of Yip Harburg's "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?" done by Bing Crosby.

CD REVIEW

Poor Man's Heaven: Songs Of The Great Depression, various artists,When The Sun Goes Down series, BMG, 2003

Banks are failing. Stock markets are in a nose dive. Unemployment is way up. Housing values are headed toward the floor. More and more people are seeking welfare and food stamps. Consumers are “tightening their belts” waiting for the other show to fall. And that is only the grim news on an average day. Other days ratchet up the doom and gloom from there. Oh, you thought I was talking about today’s headlines. No I am referring to the Great Depression of the 1930’s which in song is the subject matter of this CD review. Does sound familiar though, doesn’t it? The only thing I haven’t heard about lately is “Bushvilles” or "Obamavilles” to replace the “Hooverville” shanty towns of the 1930’s. But they could be on the way.

Even in the worst of times, at least to this reviewer’s understanding of the human endeavor, people have turned to song to relieve what ails them. Sometimes, as some selection here, it could be with a funny twist on the idiocy of the markets like old time comedian Eddie Cantor’s “Tips On The Stock Market” or Frank Crumit’s “Tale Of The Ticker”. Sometimes it could be the pathos expressed in “Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?’ or “Remember My Forgotten Man”

Other times it can be ironic as on “Hallelujah, I’m A Bum” or the title track “Poor Man’s Heaven”. Or it can express social or personal reality like “Raising The Rent”, “Ten Cents A Dance” or “The Farm Relief Song”. And sometimes, it can express just pure desperation or frustration as in Alfred Reed’s “How Can A Poor Man Stand Such Times And Live?’, Daddy Stovepipe’s “35 Depression” or Joe Stone’s “It’s Hard Time”. Yes, we need our songs to get us through but here is the kicker. It’s not enough. We cannot sing these bad time blues away. For that we need to take social action. By and for ourselves. But that is a question for another day. Today we speak of our hard times musical heritage. Listen up.

*****

A Tale of A Ticker

By Frank Crumit and Frank O'Brien

A Tale of A Ticker , a 1929 novelty song foreshadowing the 1929 stock-market crash, has music by Frank Crumit and lyrics by Frank O'Brien.

This little pig went to market,
Where they buy and sell the stocks,
This little pig came home again,
With his system full of shocks.

I don’t understand their language,
Don’t know what it’s all about,
For a bull buys up and a bear sells down and a broker sells you out;

And here is the song they sing the whole day long;
Oh! the market’s not so good today,
Your stocks look kind of sick,
In fact they all dropped down a point time the tickers tick;

We’ll have to have more margin now,
There isn’t any doubt,
So you better dash with a load of cash,
Or we’ll have to sell you out.

The stock exchange is a funny place,
It’s the strangest place in town,
The seats cost half a million cash,
But the brokers won’t sit down.

There’s the broker the bull and bear,
It’s queer but it’s not a joke,
For you get the bull till your bank-roll’s bare
and the broker says you’re broke,

And here is the song I hear the whole day long;
Oh! The market’s not so good today,
Your stocks look kind of sick,
In fact they all dropped down a point time the tickers tick;

We’ll have to have more margin now,
There isn’t any doubt,
So you better dash with a load of cash,
Or we’ll have to sell you out.

The market simply goes to prove,
That we still have loco weeds,
For the bull buys what he doesn’t want,
And the bear sells what he needs,

I bought an elevator stock,
And thought that I did well,
And the little bears all ran down-stairs
and rang the basement bell,

And here is the song I hear the whole day long;
Oh! The market’s not so good today,
Your stocks look kind of sick,
In fact they all dropped down a point time the tickers tick;

We’ll have to have more margin now,
There isn’t any doubt,
So you better dash with a load of cash,
Or we’ll have to sell you out.

HOW CAN A POOR MAN STAND SUCH TIMES AND LIVE ?

Blind Alfred Reed - 1929

There once was a time when everything was cheap,
But now prices nearly puts a man to sleep.
When we pay our grocery bill,
We just feel like making our will --
I remember when dry goods were cheap as dirt,
We could take two bits and buy a dandy shirt.
Now we pay three bucks or more,
Maybe get a shirt that another man wore --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
Well, I used to trade with a man by the name of Gray,
Flour was fifty cents for a twenty-four pound bag.
Now it's a dollar and a half beside,
Just like a-skinning off a flea for the hide --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

Oh, the schools we have today ain't worth a cent,
But they see to it that every child is sent.
If we don't send everyday,
We have a heavy fine to pay --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

Prohibition's good if 'tis conducted right,
There's no sense in shooting a man 'til he shows flight.
Officers kill without a cause,
They complain about funny laws --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

Most all preachers preach for gold and not for souls,
That's what keeps a poor man always in a hole.
We can hardly get our breath,
Taxed and schooled and preached to death --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

Oh, it's time for every man to be awake,
We pay fifty cents a pound when we ask for steak.
When we get our package home,
A little wad of paper with gristle and a bone --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

Well, the doctor comes around with a face all bright,
And he says in a little while you'll be all right.
All he gives is a humbug pill,
A dose of dope and a great big bill --
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

"Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," lyrics by Yip Harburg, music by Jay Gorney (1931)

They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,

When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.

They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,

Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.

Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;

Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,

Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,

Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,

And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.

Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,

Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,

Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,

And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.

Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?


Ten Cents a Dance

From Simple Simon

Lyrics by Lorenz Hart, music by Richard Rodgers

VERSE

I work at the Palace Ballroom,
but, gee that Palace is cheap;
when I get back to my chilly hall room
I'm much to tired to sleep.
I'm one of those lady teachers,
a beautiful hostess, you know,
the kind the Palace features
for only a dime a throw.

REFRAIN

Ten cents a dance
that's what they pay me,
gosh, how they weigh me down!
Ten cents a dance
pansies and rough guys
tough guys who tear my gown!
Seven to midnight I hear drums.
Loudly the saxophone blows.
Trumpets are tearing my eardrums.
Customers crush my toes.
Sometime I think
I've found my hero,
but it's a queer romance.
All that you need is a ticket
Come on, big boy, ten cents a dance.

PATTER

Fighters and sailors and bowlegged tailors
can pay for their ticket and rent me!
Butchers and barbers and rats from the harbors
are sweethearts my good luck has send me.
Though I've a chorus of elderly beaux ,
stockings are porous with hole at the toes.
I'm here till closing time.
Dance and be merry, it's only a dime.

TAG

Sometime I think
I've found my hero,
but it's a queer romance.
All that you need is a ticket
Come on, big boy, ten cents a dance.

*The Flap Over AIG- Fight For A Workers Party

Click on title to link to the Transitional Program of The Fourth International (1938) for some ideas and slogans appropraite for today's struggle against the capitalist vultures.

Commentary

Renegade Eye in commenting on an entry posted here on March 17, 2009 entitled “In “Honor Of AIG- Poster Child For Modern Capitalism” makes a good point about the easily fired up outrage over the giving of bonuses to some pretty unsavory and incompetent executives in light of AIG’s need for a federal taxpayer bailout. The mindset behind this scheme, however, to speak nothing of the general irrationality of capitalism, is only the tip of the iceberg, and not a particularly revealing one, about the nature of modern finance capitalism.

There is a deep plebeian populist streak in American history (not class, at least not in America) that periodically comes out when some egregious actions, such as AIG’s, hit a “hot” button. And, of course, there are no points to be lost by bourgeois politicians (or for that matter, Marxist working class politicians) for ganging up on a few unpopular (for the moment, where was the outrage when stocks were high and house values were rising) overpaid, underachieving Wall Street types. Easy targets, to be sure.

One should be aware though that using the “populist” card does not always accrue to the progressive side. A generation or so ago ex-Governor George Wallace of Alabama was able to gather considerable forces (and cash) for the times around opposition to so-called “pointy-headed liberals” who were allegedly trying to socially engineer society to their liking. Read: keep black and other minorities at the back of the bus. This is the audience that forms the conservative radio commentator Rush Limbaugh’s audience today. Some of the backlash on the home mortgage crisis has that same quality.

The question asked by these “populists": why did people (blacks and other minorities, mainly, without saying so directly for the most part) who had poor credit, no work history etc. line up hungrily to get a piece of the American dream by purchasing a home (and by the way increase the value, at the time, of the people asking the question)? From our perspective we need to cut across this with a program that deals with jobs and benefits for all, work on points that undermine class/racial/ ethnic and sexual solidarity through a workers party that fights for a workers government. That is a whole of difference from what the bourgeois politicians are feigning their outrage about.


A last point to remember as well. Echoing Renegade it is not nearly good enough to just carp about the “excesses” of capitalism but to do away with it. Every leading politician from President Barack Obama to House Financial Services Chairman Barney Frank is crying foul. However, the underlying premise behind their “bailout” plans from the beginning to the present is that financial operations such as AIG are too big to fail. It would send the whole system into a tailspin. This latest crisis of capitalism very graphically brings up the key point that there are no “impossible” situations for the capitalists. They will continue to rule until they are “pushed out”. And that will not be pleasant, if history is any judge. But that is our job. As a first step we must fight under the banner of creating a workers party that fights for a workers government!

*In “Honor” Of AIG- Poster Child For Modern Capitalism- “A Tale Of The Ticker”

Click on title to link to Wikipedia's entry for "Das Capital" Karl Marx's classic exposition on the inner workings of the capitalist system as it was evolving during his time. While it needs some up-dating to take into account the question of "globalization-modern version" and the enhanced role of the state the fundamentals are sound. The question, as he posed it in the late 19th century, still holds true- how to get rid of it as the way we conduct our lives on a societal basis.

Commentary

On a day when even the most ardent capitalists, their ideological defenders, sundry paid private and governmental officials and assorted hangers-on are in a tizzy about the huge bonuses that are to be given, or have already been given, to the financial division of the insurance giant AIG that caused more than its share of havoc over the past year or so it seems to me more than appropriate that this little song, “A Tale Of The Ticker”, that I have culled from the CD, “Poor Man’s Heaven”, should grace this space. The CD is filled with Great Depression songs (You know that old depression way back in the day, the one that is not suppose to happen anymore under modern capitalist conditions. Somebody, apparently, forgot to read their copy of Karl Marx’s “Das Capital” at Harvard Business School, or where ever they went.). I am in the process of writing a review on the whole CD for this space at a later time. The thing that is interesting in this song, as well as many of the others songs in this compilation, is that many of them truly could have been written today, with a little updating of course. For example, on this one notice the stock market business practices that are cited. Sound familiar?

A Tale of A Ticker

By Frank Crumit and Frank O'Brien

A Tale of A Ticker , a 1929 novelty song foreshadowing the 1929 stock-market crash, has music by Frank Crumit and lyrics by Frank O'Brien.

This little pig went to market,
Where they buy and sell the stocks,
This little pig came home again,
With his system full of shocks.

I don’t understand their language,
Don’t know what it’s all about,
For a bull buys up and a bear sells down and a broker sells you out;

And here is the song they sing the whole day long;
Oh! the market’s not so good today,
Your stocks look kind of sick,
In fact they all dropped down a point time the tickers tick;

We’ll have to have more margin now,
There isn’t any doubt,
So you better dash with a load of cash,
Or we’ll have to sell you out.

The stock exchange is a funny place,
It’s the strangest place in town,
The seats cost half a million cash,
But the brokers won’t sit down.

There’s the broker the bull and bear,
It’s queer but it’s not a joke,
For you get the bull till your bank-roll’s bare
and the broker says you’re broke,

And here is the song I hear the whole day long;
Oh! The market’s not so good today,
Your stocks look kind of sick,
In fact they all dropped down a point time the tickers tick;

We’ll have to have more margin now,
There isn’t any doubt,
So you better dash with a load of cash,
Or we’ll have to sell you out.

The market simply goes to prove,
That we still have loco weeds,
For the bull buys what he doesn’t want,
And the bear sells what he needs,

I bought an elevator stock,
And thought that I did well,
And the little bears all ran down-stairs
and rang the basement bell,

And here is the song I hear the whole day long;
Oh! The market’s not so good today,
Your stocks look kind of sick,
In fact they all dropped down a point time the tickers tick;

We’ll have to have more margin now,
There isn’t any doubt,
So you better dash with a load of cash,
Or we’ll have to sell you out.