Friday, May 08, 2009

*The Zen Of Golf And The Struggle For Socialism

Click On Title To Link To United States Golf Association web site. That is the golf part. The Zen and Socialism part you are on your own.

Commentary

Has old Markin finally gone off the deep end? Golf, Zen and socialism under the same headline. What gives? What gives is this. It is spring time in New England when a man’s thoughts (or at least this man’s thoughts) turn to the need to get to the great outdoor. To commune with nature. To smell the roses. In short, to get to the local public golf course and tempt fate and incur the ire of the golf gods. For those of a certain age though this thought may seem to place me in the category of “counter-revolutionary” Trotskyites that I have, more than once in my life, been accused of being. Why?

Back in the days, in the late 1960’s, “when to be young was very heaven” those of us who considered ourselves either politically or culturally radical would probably have heartily endorsed the slogan “burn down the country clubs”. And we would not have been too far off then, or now. The late Wobblie folk singer/songwriter Utah Phillips has spun more than one on-target line about the usual denizens of such haunts. Golf and its earliest manifestations in a conservative country club ethos were the stuff of bourgeois life, leisure and status and begged to be made fun of. The novelist John O’Hara made a literary career in the mid-20th century writing of the foibles and follies of the mainly conservative and status conscious American country club set, most notably in “Appointment In Samarra” That book is still a good read to get the feel of being trapped in that world. More recently and vividly the Ponzi artist supreme, Bernard Madoff, worked his financial ‘magic’ among a more contemporary section of that set down in Palm Beach, Florida.

All the above points are very true. As far as they go in our hatred of the ethos of the country club set. There is another aspect, however, that ‘corrects’ our youthful misunderstanding of the aims of socialism, our capacity to fight for it and our staying power in that struggle. I do not know if it was the old, somewhat dour, picture of what a Bolshevik existence was to be like that colored our perceptions, handed down by the old time Stalinists (except, of course, the conduct of the privileged bureaucrats). Or if it was the pressure to seem to be “at one” with the workers by scorning various bourgeois lifestyle traditions but somewhere along the line the sense of the need for more opportunities for rest and relaxation rather than less got thrown by the wayside. To the contrary the idea of socialism, at least any socialism worth fighting for and asking others to fight for as well, is to increase socially useful productive capacity, redistribute goods more equitably and thus allow for greater free time for creative activities. Or just hit golf balls, if one so desires.

Although, admittedly, we are far away from that socialist goal today those who fight under the banner of socialism need to keep some balance in their lives in order to stay with the struggle. Thus, a certified revolutionary leader like Friedrich Engels, Karl Marx’ life long co-thinker, liked to fox hunt while in his British exile. While I fully support Oscar Wilde’s comment about the ‘virtues’ of that endeavor that was Engels’ “thing”. The Russian revolutionary leader Leon Trotsky, after Vladimir Lenin the best and most well-known Bolshevik, liked to hunt, fish and later in life collect cacti. None of those hobbies are particularly associated with strictly proletarian social interests. In short, other than some patently illegal or outrageous activity, one’s personal forms of relaxation are no one’s concern. That, moreover, is probably the secret to the staying power of these great revolutionaries mentioned above. They were in it for the long haul and balanced their personal lives accordingly.

But why golf rather than, let us say, bowling or stamp collecting? Well, go back to that first paragraph about communing with nature. Most golf courses located near urban centers offer interesting natural sites like woods, ponds and sand that one can become very familiar with if one’s golf ball goes astray. Moreover, nobody should object to getting a little walking in and to get out in the sunshine and away from the damn computer for a bit. But here is the Zen part. For this average golfer there is nothing like hitting a golf shot from about 150 yards away and having it land on the green (the target area for the shot for those who do not know the game). That is what now passes for “very heaven”. And then make the putt (put it in the hole). Nirvana.

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

*From The Archives Of "Women And Revolution"-Down with the Reactionary Anti-Porn Crusade!

Click on the headline to link to a Website featuring the paintings, nude and non-nude of the great artist, Titian. Close your eyes if you are offended by the nudes. Okay.

Markin comment:

The following is an article from the Spring 1985 issue of "Women and Revolution" that may have some historical interest for old "new leftists", perhaps, and well as for younger militants interested in various cultural and social questions that intersect the class struggle. Or for those just interested in a Marxist position on a series of social questions that are thrust upon us by the vagaries of bourgeois society. I will be posting more such articles from the back issues of "Women and Revolution" during Women's History Month and periodically throughout the year.

**********

Down with the Reactionary Anti-Porn Crusade!
Granddaughters of Carry Nation in Bed with Jerry Falwell


Reprinted from Young Spartacus No. 123, December 1984/January 1985

MADISON— Formerly a hotbed of campus protest, the University of Wisconsin-Madison's "radical" reputation has given way in large part to smug, "me generation" liberalism. The Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), scabs on the anti-Vietnam War movement, carry a lot of weight in city and county government. With prudery that suits Madison's Protestant environs, "alternative" lifestylism has been institutionalized. You will live a wholesome life. Some manifestations are just plain silly: Madison was declared a "nuclear-free zone" and sandwiches come with beansprouts whether you order them or not. Some are absolutely infuriating: liquor stores close, at 9:00 p.m. and you can't buy cigarettes anywhere on the huge UW campus.

The latest target for moral uplift of the community is pornography—Penthouse and Playboy have been pulled from the Student Union newsstand on the dubious grounds of "low circulation." DSAer Kathleen Nichols, a Dane County supervisor, is proposing legislation modeled on Andrea Dworkin's Minneapolis ordinance to make pornography a civil rights violation. Material in which "people" are "reduced to body parts," "presented in postures of sexual submission" or "presented as whores by nature" would be outlawed (Badger-Herald, 8 November 1984)! Under this law, you can't consent to buy, sell, photograph or pose for pornographic pictures. As the Badger-Herald commented, "Groups normally in solidarity, such as pseudo-feminists and homosexuals, are at odds. Groups normally in opposition, such as pseudo-feminists and the local fundamentalist ministers, support the ordinance." Talk about obscene!

We print below a slightly edited version of the Spartacus Youth League statement submitted to the Madison Isthmus and UW Daily Cardinal. It appeared in a shortened version in the Isthmus (16 November 1984) while the Cardinal has refused to publish it.

Contrary to prevailing liberal opinion, Madison is part of Reagan's USA, albeit with a twist. Witness the New Right's drive to "clean up America." It's going strong in Madison. There's legislation to ban dirty pictures. On 19 October 1984, demonstrators picketed at a State Street porno store; someone stenciled "Burn Me Down" on the wall—and they mean it. Rampaging fundamentalists? Nope. This particular anti-sex crusade is led by Madison's "alternative" to the Army of God— the "radical" feminists.
Finding Robin Morgan in bed with Jerry Falwell may surprise some who thought feminism had something to do with women's liberation. After all, the '60s feminists posed as right-on revolutionaries. They rejected "male-defined" sex roles, denounced "family values" as scams to keep women isolated, dependent, condemned to domestic servitude. They worried about racism and poor people. But the feminists never opposed the oppressive capitalist system itself: their "program" consists of escapist lifestylism, "consciousness raising," "women's" vegetarian co-ops. That's why the feminist "movement" didn't move. It remained confined to rarefied microcosms like Madison, lily-white and middle-class.

What's left of the "movement" no longer even worries about real human oppression. While the feminists are busy trying to stamp out fishnet stockings and high heels, genuine assaults on women's rights go unanswered. Legalized abortion is seriously threatened; abortion clinics get firebombed, their patients harassed, but you don't hear a peep from the feminists. Then there's the case of Patricia Ridge—a single, black, working mother. Last year her five-year-old son was shot pointblank in her bedroom in a Los Angeles-area housing project by a white cop. The cop got off, but a grand jury tried to charge her with everything from child neglect to Murder Two. The Marxist Spartacist League came to her defense. But the organized feminists did nothing. For them, "women's oppression" equals nude photos: they're blind to real class and race oppression facing working-class and black women.

This "Take Back the Night" crusade is a slice of middle America at its worst—about as progressive as forbidding sex education. It dovetails with the current incitement of every backward, sexist, racist, jingoistic prejudice of American society in preparation for war against the USSR. The Democrats and Republicans have been humming "Onward Christian Soldiers" since Cold War II began under born-again Jimmy Carter; with Reagan the crusade has reached new lows. They both want a "prepared" society with social relations straight out of "Leave It To Beaver." No "extramarital" sex, no porn, no abortion, no gays.

The feminists even share Cold War/Moral Majority terminology (e.g., "Porn is the new terrorism"). And there's a certain ideological congruence. The feminists basically buy the Moral Majority's "me Tarzan, you Jane" view of human sexuality: women are gentle nurturers, children are "innocent" and asexual, while men are sexual aggressors. That's what "Pornography is the theory, rape is the practice" boils down to: men are barely controlled rapists—all it takes is a little leg to set 'em off. In that case, why stop with censoring Penthouse? According to Annie Laurie Gaylor, editor of the Feminist Connection, Rubens and Titian can go too: they painted women ravished by swans! (Perhaps when Gaylor leaves the Connection, she can get a job at the Elvehjem Museum chiseling the genitals off classical statues.)

Then there's the touchy question of First Amendment rights. With the exception of the rabid crackpot Andrea Dworkin, most feminists try to squeak past it by making a snooty differentiation between pornography and "erotica." It works like this. "Erotica" is printed on expensive paper with "tasteful" hand-drawn illustrations; "pornography" goes for $2.50, with tacky overexposed photos. As the saying goes, "perversion" is what you aren't into.

As Marxists, the Spartacist League and Spartacus Youth League oppose all attempts at puritanical censorship, whether launched by outright reactionaries or feminist ayatollahs. You can't legislate sexuality. We defend the right of consenting individuals in any combination of age, race, sex, in any number, to engage in the sexual activity of their choice—or look at the photos of their choice—without state intervention.

Pornography is not violence: it's fantasy. Rape is a form of violent criminal assault. Among other things, we advocate the repeal of gun control laws: women should have the right to carry arms and use them in self-defense. To argue that "porn is rape" or, like Robin Morgan, that any sex not initiated by a woman is rape, is—aside from being pretty damned presumptuous— to trivialize and confuse the issue. Capitalist society— its forced poverty, rigid family structure, hypocritical straitjacket morality—breeds the poisonous frustrations that explode in violence. The liberation of women requires getting rid of the repressive constraints imposed on women by the nuclear family, thus creating the possibility of new relationships based on social equality—free from compulsion and stultifying "moral" restrictions. In short, women's liberation requires socialist revolution.

While the feminist anti-porn crusaders rely on candlelight vigils, their Reaganite allies have access to systematic state repression and vigilante terror. And Reagan has launched a full-scale attack on democratic rights. Political opposition becomes "terrorism." Cop/ media hysteria about child abuse at daycare centers carries the message that the only safe place for kids is locked up at home with a non-working mom. If your sexual preference doesn't suit Jerry Falwell, you could be locked up for life.

That's no idle threat. The campaign for "decency" has been viciously anti-gay from the start. Vanessa Williams lost her crown not least because those photos were of lesbian sex. Boston-area photographer George Jacobs got 20 years for the "crime" of having consensual sex with his 14-year-old roommate. Jacobs was tested to determine if he was a "sexually dangerous person" and could have been put away in a mental hospital permanently. The cops and press went wild over NAMBLA (North American Man-Boy Love Association), an organization for the defense of civil rights of "men and boys involved in consensual sexual and other relationships with each other." NAMBLA members were beaten, framed and sent to psychiatric institutions. And that's nothing compared with the Justice Department's plan to research "behavior modification, chemical treatments, physiological stud¬ies of those suspected of psychosexual dysfunction—as evidenced by...their divorces or homosexuality" (Village Voice, 7 August 1984)!

The reactionary nature of anti-porn legislation masquerading as protection of "civil rights" is spelled out in a new law pending in Suffolk County, New York. The bill is identical to Dworkin's Minneapolis anti-porn law, minus feminist verbiage. It's sponsored by groups like the National Federation for Decency (an actual organization!) explicitly to "wipe out sodomy" and, according-to one supporter, "pornography [that] could cause social decay leading to a possible communist takeover"!

It's not like the feminists can't smell this anti-gay stench; far from it. Kathleen Nichols, lesbian activist member of the "Democratic" Socialists of America, is the Dane County supervisor behind the Madison censorship. This bigot told OUT! magazine that if the ordinance closes adult bookstores where gay men meet, all the better to stop AIDS because "that kind of anonymous sexual congress has resulted in 5500 cases of AIDS" (OUT!, September 1984). For this anti-democratic liberal, male gay sex is a health hazard. This is vile anti-gay bigotry. Do lesbians active in the anti-porn movement believe that once they outlaw everyone else's sexual practices, their own will be protected? They're on mighty thin ice. Check out Khomeini's Iran: no porn there—and they stone homosexuals to death.

Pornography reflects, and only reflects, some human behavior. In this violent, irrational society, those reflections sometimes aren't pretty: but you can't change society by changing its images on a screen. "Positive images" won't materially advance the cause of women's equality any more than those movies with Sidney Poitier as the black neurosurgeon changed the harsh reality of racist oppression. Socialist revolution alone can create the economic basis to replace the nuclear family and liberate women. We don't pretend to know what human relations in socialist society will be like. But we assume that, liberated from the artificial constraints currently imposed on human expression, sexuality under socialism will be more free, more open, more tolerant, more rich and more diverse. May the day come soon.

Carla Norris
for the Spartacus Youth League

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

*The First Family Of Mountain Music-The Carter Family-"Country Legends"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Carter Family Doing "My Clinch Mountain Home".

CD Review

RCA Country Legends: The Carter Family, The Carter Family, RCA, 2004

So what is good here? Obviously the classic track "My Clinch Mountain Home” (which has many variations). The much covered “Wabash Cannonball” (again, with many variations). “Bury Me Beneath The Weeping Willow” (a variation) and "Hello Central, Give Me Heaven” also stick out. The others give a good feel for what this music is all about for the beginner. I would also note that unlike some other early Carter Family anthologies that I could listen to the whole CD at one sitting.



"Hello Central, Give Me Heaven"

Hello central give me heaven
For I know my mother's there
And you'll find her with the angels
Over on the golden stair

She'll be glad it's me a speaking
Wont you call her for me please
For I surely want to tell her
That we're sad without her here

Hello central give me heaven
For I know my mother's there
You will find her with the angels
Over on the golden stair

Poppa dear is said and lonely
Sobbed the tearful little child
Since momma's gone to heaven
Poppa dear you do not smile

I will speak to her and tell her
That we want her to come home
You just listen while I call her
Call her through the telephone

I will answer just to please her
Yes dear heart I'll soon come home
Kiss me momma it's your darling
Kiss me through the telephone

*The First Family Of Mountain Music-The Carter Family- "The Country Music Hall Of Fame"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Carter Family Doing "Weeping Willow".

The Country Music Hall Of Fame: The Carter Family, MCA, 1991

So what is good here? Obviously the classic track "In The Shadow Of Clinch Mountain” (which has many variations). The much covered song, particularly associated with Emmy Lou Harris in the modern era, “Hello Stranger”. “Answer To Weeping Willow” (a variation) and "You Are My Flower” also stick out. The others give a good feel for what this music is all about for the beginner. I would also note that unlike some other early Carter Family anthologies that I could listen to the whole CD at one time.

“Hello Stranger”

Hello stranger
Put your loving hand in mine
You are a stranger
And you're a friend of mine
Get up, rounder
Let a working girl lay down
You are a rounder
And you're all out and down

Every time
I ride the four and six street cars
I can see my baby
Peeping through the bars

He bowed his head
And he waved both hands at me
He's prison bound
And longing to be free

I'll see you
When your troubles are like mine
Yes. I'll see you
When you haven't got a dime

*The First Family Of Mountain Music-The Carter Family-"Anchored In Love"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Carter Family Doing "Anchored In Love".

CD Review
Anchored In Love: Their Complete Victor Recordings 1927-28, The Carter Family, Rounder Records, 1993

So what is good here? Obviously the classic title track "Anchored in Love". The much covered Depression classic “Keep On The Sunny Side",” Bury Me Under The Weeping Willow" and "River Of Jordan" also stick out. I would also note that unlike some other early Carter Family anthologies that I could listen to the whole CD at one time. Moreover, the technical quality, for the times, of the Victor label shows here.


"Anchored In Love"

I've found a sweet haven of sunshine at last,
and Jesus abiding above,
His dear arms around me are lovingly cast
and sweetly He tells His love

The tempest is o'er
(The danger, the tempest forever is o'er)
I'm safe evermore
(I'm anchored in hope and have faith evermore)
What gladness what rapture is mine
The danger is past
(The water's receding, the danger is past)
I'm anchored at last
(I'm feeling so happy I'm anchored at last)
I'm anchored in love divine

He saw me endangered and lovingly came
To pilot my storm-beaten soul
Sweet peace He has spoken and bless His dear name
The billows no longer roll

His love shall control me through life and in death
Completely I'll trust to the end
I'll praise Him each hour of my last fleeting breath
Shall sing of my soul's Best Friend

*The First Family Of Mountain Music-The Carter Family-"Gold Watch And Chain"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Carter Family Doing "Keep On The Sunny Side".

CD REVIEWS

Gold Watch and Chain: Their Complete Victor Recordings 1933-34, The Carter Family,Rounder Records, 1998

The body of this review has been used elsewhere in this space to comment on other The Carter Family CDs.


This information is from a review Of a PBS documentary and serves my purpose here by bringing out the main points that are central to the place of The Carter Family in American musical history. The last paragraph will detail the outstanding tracks on this CD.

“I have reviewed the various CDs put out by the Carter Family, that is work of the original grouping of A.P., Sara and Maybelle from the 1920’s , elsewhere in this space. Many of the thoughts expressed there apply here, as well. The recent, now somewhat eclipsed, interest in the mountain music of the 1920’s and 30’s highlighted in such films as “The Song Catcher” and George Clooney’s “Brother, Where Art Thou”, of necessity, had to create a renewed interest in the Carter Family. Why? Not taking the influence of that family’s musical shaping of mountain music is like neglecting the influence of Bob Dylan on the folk music revival of the 1960’s. I suppose it can be done but a big hole is left in the landscape.

What this PBS production has done, and done well, is put the music of the Carters in perspective as it relates to their time, their religious sentiments and their roots in the seemingly simple mountain lifestyle. Is there any simpler harmony than the virtually universally known Carter song (or better, variation) “Will the Circle Be Unbroken”? Nevertheless, these gentle mountain folk were as driven to success, especially A.P, as any urbanite of the time. Moreover, they seem, and here again A.P. is the example, to have had as many interpersonal problems (in short, marital difficulties) as us city folk.

I have mentioned elsewhere, and it bears repeating here, that the fundamentalist religious sentiment expressed throughout their work does not have that same razor-edged feel that we find with today’s evangelicals. This is a very personal kind of religious expression that drives many of the songs. These evangelical people took their beating during the Scopes Trial era and turned inward. Fair enough. That they also produced some very simple and interesting music to while away their time is a product of that withdrawal. Listen.”

So what is good here? Obviously the classic title track "Gold Watch and Chain" that I first heard covered by Alice Stuart over forty years ago. The pathos of desperate, seemingly unrequited, love still comes through after all that time. The much covered "See That My Grave Is Kept Green” (clean, in other versions that I have heard), "Cowboy Jack" and "Faded Flowers" also stick out. I would also note that unlike some other early Carter Family anthologies that I could listen to the whole CD at one time. Moreover, the relatively technical quality, for the times, of the Victor label shows here.


AMBER TRESSES

Far away in sunny mountains
Where the merry sunbeams play
There I wander through the clover
Singing to a village maid

She was dearer than the dearest
Ever loving kind and true
And she wore beneath her bonnet
Amber tresses tied with blue

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

Fate decreed that we be parted
Ere the leaves of autumn fell
When two hearts are separated
That had loved each other well

She was all I had to cherish
Ever loving kind and true
Now I see in every vision
Amber tresses tied with blue

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

She was dearer than the dearest
Ever loving kind and true
And she wore beneath her bonnet
Amber tresses tied with blue



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ANCHORED IN LOVE

I found a sweet haven of sunshine at last
In Jesus abiding above
His dear arms around me are lovingly cast
And sweetly he tells his love

The tem----------pest is o'er
(The dangerous tempest forever is o'er)
I'm safe----------evermore
(My anchor is holding, I'm safe evermore)
What gladness, what rapture is mine
(What gladness, what rapture is mine)
The dan--------------ger is past
(The waters are peaceful, the danger is past)
I'm an-----------chored at last
(My spirit is happy, I'm anchored at last)
I'm anchored in love divine
(I'm anchored in love divine)

He saw me endangered and lovingly came
To pilot my stormy doomed soul
Sweet peace he has spoken and bless his sweet name
The billows no longer roll

The tem----------pest is o'er
(The dangerous tempest forever is o'er)
I'm safe----------evermore
(My anchor is holding, I'm safe evermore)
What gladness, what rapture is mine
(What gladness, what rapture is mine)
The dan--------------ger is past
(The waters are peaceful, the danger is past)
I'm an-----------chored at last
(My spirit is happy, I'm anchored at last)
I'm anchored in love divine
(I'm anchored in love divine)

His love shall enfold me through life and in death
Completely I'll trust to the end
I'll praise him each hour and my last fleeting breath
Shall sing of my soul's best friend

[CHORUS]


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ANGEL BAND

My latest sun is sinking fast
My race is nearly run
My strongest trials now are past
My triumph is begun


O come, angel band
Come and around me stand
O bear me away on your snowy wings
To my immortal home
O bear me away on your snowy wings
To my immortal home


[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


O bear my longing heart to him
Who bled and died for me
Where blood now cleanses from all sin
And gives me victory


O come, angel band
Come and around me stand
O bear me away on your snowy wings
To my immortal home
O bear me away on your snowy wings
To my immortal home


[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


I've almost gained my heavenly home
My spirit loudly sings
The Holy one before me comes
I hear the noise of wings


O come, angel band
Come and around me stand
O bear me away on your snowy wings
To my immortal home
O bear me away on your snowy wings
To my immortal home

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ANSWER TO WEEPING WILLOW


My love is dead and buried yonder
Beneath the weeping willow tree
What wrecks my life and makes me wonder
Is because he died for me


Then lay me down in death beside her
For she's all this life to me
That I may join and e'er caress her
In a land beyond the sea

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

Yes, she died before I told her
That I loved her true and kind
And that I did not mean to fool her
But she'd left me to repine


Then lay me down in death beside her
For she's all this life to me
That I may join and e'er caress her
In a land beyond the sea

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


God, shall I ever get forgiveness
For the deeds that I have done
And meet up yonder her sweet charming
For I know she bids me come


Then lay me down in death beside her
For she's all this life to me
That I may join and e'er caress her
In a land beyond the sea


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT

Are you lonesome tonight, do you miss me, I say
Are you sorry we drifted apart
Does your memory cling to that bright summer day
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart


Like a rose on the vine I am clinging to you
As I did when we drifted apart
I am wishing you back to that little shack
Where I kissed you and called you sweetheart


[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

Does the chair in your parlor seem empty and bare
Do you miss me and wish I was there
Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again
Tell me, darling, are you lonesome tonight


Are you lonesome tonight, do you miss me, I say
Are you sorry we drifted apart
Does your memory cling to that bright summer day
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart


[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


I have counted the days, I have counted the nights
I've counted the months and the years
I have counted on you since we've drifted apart
Tell me, darling, are you lonesome tonight


Are you lonesome tonight, do you miss me, I say
Are you sorry we drifted apart
Does your memory cling to that bright summer day
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart

Back to top


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ARE YOU TIRED OF ME, MY DARLING

Are you tired of me, my darling
Did you mean those words you said
That has made me yours forever
Since the day that we were wed


Tell me, could you live life over
Would you make it otherwise
Are you tired of me, my darling
Answer only with your eyes


Do you ever rue the springtime
Since we first each other met
Since we spoke in warm affection
Words my heart can ne'er forget


Tell me, could you live life over
Would you make it otherwise
Are you tired of me, my darling
Answer only with your eyes


Do you think the bloom departed
From these cheeks you once thought fair
Do you think I've grown cold-hearted
With the passing of the years


Tell me, could you live life over
Would you make it otherwise
Are you tired of me, my darling
Answer only with your eyes

Back to top


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


BEAUTIFUL HOME

There's a beautiful home far over the sea
There are mansions of bliss for you and for me
Oh the beautiful home so wonderously fair
That savior for me has gone to prepare.


[CHORUS:]
There's a beautiful hom (beautiful home)
Far over the sea (far over the sea)
There's a beautiful home (for you and for me)
Its glittering towers (glittering towers)
The sun outshine (the sun outshine)
That beautiful home (that beautiful home)
Someday shall be mine.

In that beautiful home a crown I shall wear
With the glorified throng their glories to share
But the joys of that home can never be known
Till the Savior we see upon his white throne.

[repeat chorus]

Back to top


BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES


Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes
I'll never love blue eyes again


Willie, my darling, I love you
Love you with all of my heart
We could have been married
But liquor has kept us apart



Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes
I'll never love blue eyes again

Back to top


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



BEAUTIFUL ISLE O'ER THE SEA

I will not be your sweetheart
I'll tell you the reason why
My mama always told me
To pass a drunkard by

Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
There's someone waiting for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Some say there's pleasure in courting
What pleasure is it to me
For the boy I love so dearly
Has turned his back on me

Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
There's someone waiting for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Now, young man, I will tell you
If you want my heart, my hand
You'd better quit your drinking
And be a sober man

Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
There's someone waiting for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Go prove yourself, be faithful
Go prove yourself, be true
And sometime in the future
Perhaps I'll marry you

Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
Beautiful isle o'er the sea, o'er the sea
There's someone waiting for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


BLACK JACK DAVID

Black Jack David came riding through the woods
And he sang so loud and gaily
Made the hills around him ring
And he charmed the heart of a lady. (2x)

"How old are you my pretty little miss
How old are you my honey?"
She answered him with a silly little smile
"I'll be sixteen next Sunday". (2x)

"Come go with me my pretty little miss
Come go with me my honey
I'll take you across the deep blue sea
Where you never shall want for money." (2x)

She pulled off her high-heeled shoes
They were made of Spanish leather
She put on those low-heeled shoes
And they both rode off together. (2x)

"Last night I lay on a warm feather bed
Beside my husband and baby
Tonight I lay on the cold, cold ground
By the side of Black Jack David." (2x)


BONNIE BLUE EYES

Goodbye, my little Bonnie blue eyes
Goodbye, my little Bonnie blue eyes
You've told me more lies than the stars in the skies
Goodbye, my little Bonnie blue eyes

Oh, Bonnie, you've done me wrong
Oh, Bonnie, you've done me wrong
You've done me wrong and now I'm gone
Oh, Bonnie, you've done me wrong

I saw my little Bonnie last night
She looked so dear to me
She's the only girl I ever loved
She's now gone back on me

I stayed in the country too long
I stayed in the country too long
The only wrong that I have done
I stayed in the country too long

Come and go with me to the train
Come and go with me to the train
Come and go with me and see me get on
Goodbye, my little Bonnie, I'm gone

BRING BACK MY BLUE-EYED BOY TO ME

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

'Tis true the rainbow has no end
It's hard to find a faithful friend
And when you find one just and true
Change not the old one for the new

Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
That I may ever happy be


Must I go bound and him go free
Must I love a boy that don't love me
Or must I act the childish part
And love that boy that broke my heart

Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
That I may ever happy be

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Last night my lover promised me
To take me across the deep blue sea
And now he's gone and left me alone
An orphan girl without a home

Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
That I may ever happy be


Oh, dig my grave both wide and deep
Place marble at my head and feet
And on my breast a snow white dove
To show to the world I died for love

Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
Bring back my blue-eyed boy to me
That I may ever happy be

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


BRING BACK MY BOY

Out in the cold world and far away form home
Somebody's boy is wandering alone
No one to guide him and keep his footsteps right
Somebody's boy is homeless tonight.

[CHORUS:] Bring back my boy, my wandering boy
Far, far away, wherever he may be
Tell him his mother with faded cheeks and hair
At their old home is waiting him there.

Out in the hallway there stands a vacant chair
Yonder's the shoes my darling used to wear
Empty the cradle, the one that's loved so well
Oh how I miss him there's no toung can tell.

[CHORUS]

Oh could I see him and fold him to my breast
Gladly I'd close my eyes anmd be at rest
There is no other that's left to give me joy
Bring back my boy, my wandering boy.

[CHORUS]


THE THE BROKEN HEARTED LOVER

Would you let her part us, darling
Could you truly turn away
Would it make your heart ache, darling
Not to see me night or day

I've been dreaming of you, darling
Dreaming of your eyes so blue
Take me back, for love I'm dying
For I love none else but you

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Many a day with you I've rambled
Down by the shades of the deep blue sea
There you told me that you loved me
That you loved none else but me

I am dreaming of you, darling
Dreaming of your eyes so blue
Take me back, for love I'm dying
For I love none else but you

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


I will give you back your letters
And your picture I love so well
How it makes my heart ache, darling
Oh, 'tis hard to say farewell

I been dreaming of you, darling
Dreaming of your eyes so blue
Take me back, for love I'm dying
For I love none else but you

BURY ME BENEATH THE WILLOW

My heart is sad and I'm in sorrow
For the only one I love
When will I see him, no, no, never
Till I meet him in heaven above


Then bury me beneath the willow
Beneath the weeping willow tree
Where he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

He told me that he dearly loved me
How could I believe him untrue
Until an angel softly whispered
He has proven untrue to you


Then bury me beneath the willow
Beneath the weeping willow tree
Where he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Tomorrow was their wedding day
But, alas, oh, where can he be
He's gone, he's gone to wed another
And he no longer cares for me


Then bury me beneath the willow
Beneath the weeping willow tree
Where he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me


BURY ME UNDER THE WEEPING WILLOW (II)

My heart is sad and I'm in sorrow
For the only one I love
When shall I see him, oh, no, never
Till I meet him in heaven above


Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me


They told me that he did not love me
I could not believe it was true
Until an angel softly whispered
He has proven untrue to you


Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

Tomorrow was our wedding day
But, Lord, oh, where is he
He's gone to seek him another bride
And he cares no more for me


Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Oh, bury me under the violets blue
To prove my love to him
Tell him that I would die to save him
For his love I never could win


Oh, bury me under the weeping willow
Yes, under the weeping willow tree
So he may know where I am sleeping
And perhaps he will weep for me

BY THE TOUCH OF HER HAND

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


There are days so dark that I seek in vain
For the face of my own true love
But the darkness hides, she is there to guide
By the light of the moon above


Oh the lonesome pine, oh the lonsome pine
Where I met that sweetheart of mine
With her hand in mine, and our hearts entwined
As we stroll through the lonesome pine


[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Bright stars above, two sweethearts in love
As we sing to the cooing doves
She has brought me back to that mountain shack
By the touch of her hand in love


Oh the lonesome pine, oh the lonsome pine
Where I met that sweetheart of mine
With her hand in mine, and our hearts entwined
As we stroll through the lonesome pine


[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

CAN THE CIRCLE BE UNBROKEN

I was standing by my window
On one cold and cloudy day
And I saw the hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away

Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky


Oh, I told the undertaker
Undertaker, please drive slow
For this body you are hauling
How I hate to see her go

Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky


Lord, I followed close beside her
Tried to hold up and be brave
But I could not hide my sorrow
When they laid her in the grave

Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Went back home Lord, My home was lonely
Since my mother she had gone
All my brothers, sisters crying
What a home so sad and lone

Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky


CAN'T FEEL AT HOME IN THIS WORLD ANYMORE

This world is not my home, I'm just passing through
My treasures and my hopes are all beyond the blue
Where many many friends and kindred have gone on before
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore


Over in Glory land, there is no dying there
The saints are shouting victory and singing everywhere
I hear the voice of them that I have heard before
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore


Oh, lord, you know I have no friend like you
If heaven's not my home, oh, lord, what would I do
Angels beckon me to heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore


Heaven's expecting me, that's one thing I know
I fixed it up with Jesus a long time ago
He will take me through though I am weak and poor
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore


Oh, I have a loving mother over in Glory land
I don't expect to stop until I shake her hand
She's gone on before, just waiting at heaven's door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore


Oh, lord, you know I have no friend like you
If heaven's not my home, oh, lord, what would I do
Angels beckon me to heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore


CHURCH IN THE WILDWOOD

There's a church in the valley in the wildwood
No lovelier place in the dell
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the dell

[bass] Oh, come, come, come, come
[all] Come to the church in the wildwood
Oh, come to the church in the dell
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the dell
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]
How sweet on a clear sabbath morning
To listen to the clear ringing bells
Its gongs so sweetly are calling
Oh, come to the church in the dell

[bass] Oh, come, come, come, come
[all] Come to the church in the wildwood
Oh, come to the church in the dell
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the dell
There, close by the side of the loved one
'Neath the tree where the wildflowers bloom
She sleeps, sweet love sleeps 'neath the willow
Disturb not her rest in the tomb

[bass] Oh, come, come, come, come
[all] Come to the church in the wildwood
Oh, come to the church in the dell
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the dell

[bass] Oh, come, come, come, come
[all] Come to the church in the wildwood
Oh, come to the church in the dell
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the dell

CLIMBING ZION'S HILL

Oh, the heaven bells are ringing and I'm a-going home
I'm a-going home, yes, I'm a-going home
Oh, the heaven bells are ringing and I'm a-going home
Climbing up Zion's hill

I'm climbing, I'm climbing
Climbing up Zion's hill
I'm climbing, I'm climbing
Climbing up Zion's hill

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

If you don't, my mother, you'll be too late
You'll be too late, you'll be too late
If you don't, my mother, you'll be too late
Climbing up Zion's hill

I'm climbing, I'm climbing
Climbing up Zion's hill
I'm climbing, I'm climbing
Climbing up Zion's hill

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]

If you don't, my father, you'll be too late
You'll be too late, you'll be too late
If you don't, my father, you'll be too late
Climbing up Zion's hill

I'm climbing, I'm climbing
Climbing up Zion's hill
I'm climbing, I'm climbing
Climbing up Zion's hill

[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]



COAL MINER'S BLUES

Some blues are just blues
Mine are the miner's blues
Some blues are just blues
Mine are the miner's blues
My troubles are coming
By threes and by twos
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


Blues and more blues
It's a coal black blues
Blues and more blues
It's a coal black blues
Got coal in my hair
Got coal in my shoes
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


These blues are soul blue
They are the coal black blues
These blues are soul blue
They are the coal black blues
For my place will cave in
And my life I will lose
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


You say they are blues
These old miner's blues
You say they are blues
These old miner's blues
Now I must have sharpened
These picks that I use
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]


I'm out with these blues
Dirty coal black blues
I'm out with these blues
Dirty coal black blues
We'll lay off tomorrow
With the coal miner's blues

COME BACK TO ME

Come back to me in my dreaming
Come back to me once more
Come with the love light gleaming
As in the days of yore



And tell me that you still love me
And that your heart is still true
When the spring roses are blooming
Then I'll come back to you


Somewhere a heart is breaking
Calling me back to you
Memories of loved ones awaiting
Each happy home and you


Absence makes my heart fonder
Is it the same with you
Are you still happy, I wonder
Or do you feel lonesome, too


When the sun is sinking
In the golden west
And the birds and flowers
They have gone to rest


Come tell me that you still love me
And that your heart is still true
When the roses are blooming
Then I'll come back to you

THE CURTAINS OF NIGHT

When the curtains of night are pinned back with a star
And the beautiful moon climbs the sky
And the dewdrops of heaven are kissing the rose
It is then that my memory flies

As upon the wings of some beautiful dove
In haste with the message it bears
To bring a kiss of affection and say
I'll remember you, love, in my prayers

Go wherever you will, over land, over sea
I will share all your sorrows and cares
And at night when I kneel by my bedside to pray
I'll remember you, love, in my prayers

I have loved you too fondly to ever forget
The words you have spoken to me
With a kiss of affection still warm on my lips
When you told me how true you would be

Go wherever you will, over land, over sea
I will share all your sorrows and cares
And at night when I kneel by my bedside to pray
I'll remember you, love, in my prayers

As the heavenly angels are guarding the good
As God has ordained them to do
In answer to prayers I have offered for you
I know there is one watching you

Go wherever you will, over land, over sea
I will share all your sorrows and cares
And at night when I kneel by my bedside to pray
I'll remember you, love, in my prayers

And may its bright spirit go with you through life
To guide you up heaven's bright stairs
To meet with the one who has loved you so true
And remembered to love in her prayers

*Walking The Line-At The End- The Carter Family’s June Carter Cash Bids Adieu

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of June Carter Cash performing the original Carter Family classic "Will You Miss Me When I Am Gone?

CD Review

Wildwood Flower, June Carter Cash, Johnny Cash, Norman and Nancy Blake and various artists, produced by John Carter Cash, Dueltone Records, 2003


Recently I did a series of DVD reviews of legendary folklorist Pete Seeger’s old television show “Rainbow Quest” in which, on one of the segments, June Carter Cash and Johnny Cash were featured. Here is part of what I had to say there:

“In a year that has featured various 90th birthday celebrations it is very appropriate to review some of the 1960’s television work of Pete Seeger, one of the premier folk anthologists, singers, transmitters of the tradition and “keeper” of the folk flame. This DVD is a “must see” for anyone who is interested in the history of the folk revival of the 1960’s, the earnest, folksy style of Pete Seeger or the work of the also tradition-oriented , although that fact was previously unknown to me, Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash (she of the famous Carter Family tribe. How is that for traditional bloodlines?). This is not only a musical treat seeing the real subjects of the hit movie of a few years ago, “Walk The Line” that got me interested, at least somewhat, in Johnny Cash’s music but filled with information about the Carter Family that I have been interested in for a long time. Pete, by the way, couldn’t be more pleased in working with this pair and they regale us with some old Carter Family songs like “Worried Man Blues”. “

As a result of that experience I went back and reviewed the film “Walk The Line” and here is what I had to say, in part, there:

“I am reviewing this nicely done commercial effort to delve into parts of the lives of the legendary singers Johnny Cash and his (eventual) wife June Carter Cash (of the famous mountain music Carter Family bloodlines. Her mother was the incredible vocalist and guitarist Maybelle Carter) in reverse order. Although I saw the this film for the first time when it was released in theaters (and have viewed it several times on DVD) several years ago I am reviewing now after having just seen the real Johnny Cash and June Carter on one of the segments of Pete Seeger’s black and white television programs from the mid-1960s, “Rainbow Quest” where they appeared. And knocked me, and I think Pete, over with their renditions of Carter Family material and information about that clan.

Okay, here is the skinny. If you want to get the glamorous, sexy romance and a fetching June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), the heartache and longing of pain in the butt Johnny Cash and the eventual joining together of two great musical talents story then this is the place to start. But, if you want the reason why this film was made in the first place, the legendary musical talent, warts and all, then watch them go through their paces along with old Pete Seeger. Both are worth the time. “

Well, my friends, excuse this roundabout way to get to the CD under review but the points made above will stand for my thoughts on this last June Carter Cash CD. I can only add that when you listen to it you will feel the Appalachian mountain breeze, the sound from the hollows below but most of all you will hear the voice of Maybelle Carter come back to life in daughter June in 2002. And with the likes of Norman and Nancy Blake as backup where is there anything to find wrong with here? The tops here are two classic Carter Family songs, a soulful “Storms Are On The Ocean” and a cryptic (under the circumstance as she way dying at the time) “Will You Miss Me When I Gone?” with the whole gang, including Johnny joining in. Whoa, what a send off!

Storms are on the ocean

I'm go[C]ing a[F]way to [C]leave you, love, I'm going a[G]way for a[C]while,

but I'll re[F]turn to [C]you some time, if I go ten thou[G]sand [ C]miles.

CH

The [F]storms are on the [C]ocean, the [F]heavens may [G]cease to [C]be,

this [F]world may lose its [C]motion, love, if I prove [G]false to [C]thee.



Oh, who will dress your pretty little feet, oh, who will glove your hand.

Oh, who will kiss your rosy red cheek, when I'm in a far off land?



The storms are on the ocean, the heavens may cease to be,

this world may lose its motion, love, if I prove false to thee.



3.Oh,Poppa will dress my pretty little feet,and Momma will glove my hand.

You can kiss my rosy red cheeks, when you return again.

CH


Oh, have you seen those mournful doves, flying from pine to pine,

a-mourning for their own true love just like I mourn for mine.

CH


I'll never go back on the ocean, love, I'll never go back on the sea,

I'll never go back from the blue-eyed girl, till she goes back on me.

CH

WILL YOU MISS ME WHEN I’M GONE
D
1. When death shall close these eyelids,
G D
and this heart shall cease to beat,

and they lay me down to rest
A A7 D
in some flowery-bound retreat.
D
Will you miss me (miss me when I'm gone) ?
G D
Will you miss me (miss me when I'm gone) ?

Will you miss me (miss me when I'm gone) ?
A A7 D
Will you miss me when I'm gone ?

D
2. Perhaps you'll plant a flower
G D
on my poor, unworthy grave.

Come and sit alone beside me,
A A7 D
when the roses nod and wave. + CHORUS
D
3. One sweet thought my soul shall cherish,
G D
when this fleeting life has flown,

this sweet thought will cheer when dying,
A A7 D
will you miss me when I'm gone. + CHORUS
D
4. When these lips shall never more
G D
press a kiss upon thy brow,

but lie cold and still in death,
A A7 D
will you love me then as now. + CHORUS

(capo 2 nd) (The Carter Family)

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

*A Communist Before His Time –Gerrard Winstanley and the Digger Colonies in the English Revolution

Click on the headline to link to a YouTube film clip of Billy Bragg (Known In This Space As Narrator Of Woody Guthrie And His Guitar: The Machine Kills Fascists)performing The World Turned Upside Down.

DVD REVIEW

Winstanley, starring Miles Harriwell, directed by Kenneth Brownlow, 1975

The time of the English Revolution in the 1640's, Oliver Cromwell's time, as in all revolutionary times saw a profusion of ideas from all kinds of sources- religious, secular, the arcane, the fanciful and the merely misbegotten. A few of those ideas however, as here, bear study by modern militants. As the film under review amplifies, True Leveler Gerrard Winstanley's agrarian socialist utopian tracts from the 1640's, the notion of a socialist solution to the problems of humankind has a long, heroic and storied history. The solutions presented by Winstanley had and, in a limited sense, still do represent rudimentary ways to solve the problem of social and economic distribution of the social surplus produced by society. Without overextending the analogy Winstanley's tract represented for his time, the 1600's, what the Communist Manifesto represented for Marx's time-and ours-the first clarion call for the new more equitable world order. And those with property hated both men, with the same venom, in their respective times.

One of the great advances Marx had over Winstanley was that he did not place his reliance on an agrarian solution to the crisis of society as Winstanley, by the state of economic development of his times, was forced to do. Marx, moreover, unlike Winstanley, did not concentrate on the question of distribution but rather on who controlled the means of production a point that all previous theorists had either failed to account for, dismissed out of hand or did not know about. Thus, all pre-Marxist theory is bound up with a strategy of moral as well as political persuasion as a means of changing human lifestyles. Marx posed the question differently by centering on the creation of social surplus so that under conditions of plenty the struggle for daily survival would be taken off the human agenda and other more lofty goals put in its place. Still, with all the True Levelers' weaknesses of program and their improbabilities of success in the 1640's militants today still doff our hats to Winstanley's vision.

Notwithstanding the utopian nature of the experiment discussed above the filmmaker, Kenneth Brownlow, and his associates here have painstakingly, lovingly and with fidelity to the narrative and detail that are known from the researches of the likes of Christopher Hill and George Sabine, among others, that make for an excellent snapshot of what it might have been like up on Winstanley's St. George's Hill long ago. Two things add to that end.

First, the use of black and white highlights the bleak countryside (after all although the land was "common" it was waste that the landlord did not find it expedient to cultivate) and the pinched appearances of the "comrades" (especially the deeply-farrowed expressions of Miles Harriwell as Winstanley). Secondly, the director has used to the greatest extent possible Winstanley's own pamphlets that dealt with what was going on in Surrey and what his political purposes were (expressed as almost always in those days in religious terms- but taking land in common for use rather than profit is understanding in any language. I might add that the attempts to replicate the costumes of the period, the furnishings and the music round out a job well done.

Note: Part of this DVD contains a section on the hows and whys of the making of the film, including in-depth coverage of its making and commentary by Mr. Brownlow. You are getting this film for the Winstanley reenactment but this section is interesting if you are interested in filmmaking.


THE FOLLOWING IS A SONG BASED ON THE DIGGER EXPERIENCE IN 1650

If John Milton was the literary muse of the English Revolution then the Diggers and their leader, Gerrard Winstanley, were the political muses.

The World Turned Upside Down


We will not worship the God they serve, a God of greed who feeds the rich while poor folk starve.
In 1649 to St. George's Hill
A ragged band they called the Diggers came to show the people's
will
They defied the landlords, they defied the laws
They were the dispossessed reclaiming what was theirs.
We come in peace, they said, to dig and sow
We come to work the lands in common and make the waste
ground grow

This earth divided we will make whole
So it may be a common treasury for all "**
The sin of property we do disdain
No man has any right to buy or sell the earth for private gain

By theft and murder they took the land
Now everywhere the walls spring up at their command
They make the laws to chain us well
The clergy dazzle us with heaven, or they damn us into hell

We will not worship the God they serve,
a God of greed who feeds the rich while poor folk starve
We work and eat together, we need no swords
We will not bow to masters, nor pay rent to the lords

Still we are free, though we are poor
Ye Diggers all, stand up for glory, stand up now!
From the men of property the orders came
They sent the hired men and troopers to wipe out the Diggers'
claim

Tear down their cottages, destroy their corn
They were dispersed - only the vision lingers on
Ye poor take courage, ye rich take care
This earth was made a common treasury for everyone to share
All things in common, all people one
They came in peace - the order came to cut them down

WORDS AND MUSIC BY LEON ROSSELSON, 1981

Sunday, April 26, 2009

* In Honor Of The Irish Cultural Gradient- The Clancy Brothers And Tommy Makem

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Clancy Brothers And Tommy Makem Performing "Brennan On The Moor".

CD Review

Celtic Classic Treasures, The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem and Friends, Legacy International

If the CD “Rising Of The Moon” above was filled with fight songs of the Irish national liberation struggle in the classic period up in the 1920’s then this CD reflects the folk traditions of the rest of Irish life under the occupation. Moreover, there is a nice smattering of reels, jigs and ballads that are more familiar to most people when they think about Irish culture. And the boyos have brought in other voices and instruments to round out this work. Outstanding here are “Whiskey You’re The Devil” a perennial favorite concerning a subject near and dear to many Irish. “The Lowland Of Holland’ deals with the hard fact that many Irish, in order to get under from under the farm, enlisted in the British Army. A few children’s songs are thrown in which are always interesting as an example of how universal the concerns of childhood are. These are the songs that our grandmothers sang to us low and sweet. To round things out there are several tracks in Gaelic like the standard “Roisin Dubh”, “Amhran Dochais” and “An Bhruinnlin Bheasach”.


Here are some songs of the Irish Rebellions

By the Rising of the Moon

words by J.K. Casey, music Turlough O'Carolan


And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow
I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

The Croppy Boy

It was early, early in the spring
The birds did whistle and sweetly sing
Changing their notes from tree to tree
And the song they sang was Old Ireland free.
It was early early in the night,
The yeoman cavalry gave me a fright
The yeoman cavalry was my downfall
And I was taken by Lord Cornwall.

'Twas in the guard-house where I was laid,
And in a parlour where I was tried
My sentence passed and my courage low
When to Dungannon I was forced to go.

As I was passing my father's door
My brother William stood at the door
My aged father stood at the door
And my tender mother her hair she tore.

As I was going up Wexford Street
My own first cousin I chanced to meet;
My own first cousin did me betray
And for one bare guinea swore my life away.

As I was walking up Wexford Hill
Who could blame me to cry my fill?
I looked behind, and I looked before
But my aged mother I shall see no more.

And as I mounted the platform high
My aged father was standing by;
My aged father did me deny
And the name he gave me was the Croppy Boy.

It was in Dungannon this young man died
And in Dungannon his body lies.
And you good people that do pass by
Oh shed a tear for the Croppy Boy.

"The Foggy Dew"

As down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I
There Armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum nor battle drum did sound it's dread tatoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell rang out through the foggy dew

Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Sulva or Sud El Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew

'Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go that small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves or the shore of the Great North Sea
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep 'neath the shroud of the foggy dew

But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the springing of the year
And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men, but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew

Ah, back through the glen I rode again and my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men whom I never shall see more
But to and fro in my dreams I go and I'd kneel and pray for you,
For slavery fled, O glorious dead, When you fell in the foggy dew.

"Kevin Barry"

In Mountjoy jail one Monday morning
High upon the gallows tree,
Kevin Barry gave his young life
For the cause of liberty.

But a lad of eighteen summers,
Still there's no one can deny,
As he walked to death that morning,
He proudly held his head on high.


2. Just before he faced the hangman,
In his dreary prison cell,
The Black and Tans tortured Barry,
Just because he wouldn't tell.

The names of his brave comrades,
And other things they wished to know.
"Turn informer and we'll free you"
Kevin Barry answered, "no".


3. "Shoot me like a soldier.
Do not hang me like a dog,
For I fought to free old Ireland
On that still September morn.

"All around the little bakery
Where we fought them hand to hand,
Shoot me like a brave soldier,
For I fought for Ireland."


4. "Kevin Barry, do not leave us,
On the scaffold you must die!"
Cried his broken-hearted mother
As she bade her son good-bye.

Kevin turned to her in silence
Saying, "Mother, do not weep,
For it's all for dear old Ireland
And it's all for freedom's sake."


5. Calmly standing to attention
While he bade his last farewell
To his broken hearted mother
Whose grief no one can tell.

For the cause he proudly cherished
This sad parting had to be
Then to death walked softly smiling
That old Ireland might be free.


6. Another martyr for old Ireland;
Another murder for the crown,
Whose brutal laws to crush the Irish,
Could not keep their spirit down.

Lads like Barry are no cowards.
From the foe they will not fly.
Lads like Barry will free Ireland,
For her sake they'll live and die.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

*Political Potpourri- John Kerry’s Afghan War Hearings and The Latest On The Gay Marriage Front

Click On Title To link To April 22, 2009 Farrah Stockman Boston Globe Article On The Massachusetts Senator John Kerry-led Afghan War Hearings Mentioned Below. This Article Is Priceless In Exposing The Now Threadbare Anti-War Credentials Of The Former Democratic Party Presidential Nominee. Plus There Is A Photo Of A Youthful John Kerry During His 1971 Anti-war Moment. Also Priceless.

Commentary

Sometimes political happenings of interest to the radical public and to this blogger are not enough to warrant extensive full commentary but nevertheless warrant a word or two. That in the case here on the Afghan war front and the various doings on the gay marriage rights front.

John Kerry Refurbishes His War Credentials


Massachusetts Senator John Kerry, the unsuccessful 2004 Democratic Party nominee for President, former contender (at least in his own mind) for a Secretary of Stateship in the Obama Administration and now Chairman of The Senate Foreign Relations Committee recently (April 23, 2009) chaired hearings on the “progress” of the Afghan war. In the buildup to that event the media (at least the local media in Boston) recognized that these hearings were being held very close to the 38th Anniversary of the then private citizen and Vietnam Veterans Against The War (VVAW) leader Kerry’s testimony against that war before this same committee in 1971.

As I have mentioned previously in this space this mania for “celebrating” every small event in the political and social universe has gotten out of hand. Especially the commemoration of this event, considering that Kerry’ testimony given in 1971 was pretty late in the game and after there had been a virtual mutiny in the American army over Vietnam War policy, although it retained a certain power to focus some issues even then. I deny no man or woman, including myself, his or her day in the sun but enough is enough. I have, on occasion, “celebrated” various landmark anniversaries of importance to me but I at least have had the propriety to separate them by five or ten year periods. Whoever heard of making a big deal out of a 38th Anniversary of anything (wedding anniversaries excluded, of course)?

But enough of that. The real import of these hearings is to, once again, confirm that while John Kerry may have earned his political spurs as an Vietnam anti-warrior when it comes to the perceived interests of late (witness his positive vote on Bush’s Iraq War policy) of the American imperium he is “ready for duty”. All the more so when it is a “liberal’s” war under aegis of the liberal Obama Administration. The argument all along in Democratic Party circles, made clear last year in the various Democratic primary debates with the partial exception of Congressman Kucinich, has been that the Bush “Iraq follies” were taking the focus and resources away from the “real” war in Afghanistan. Nothing in the Kerry hearings, including the selection of the appropriate pro-war military advocates to second the Obama administration policy was “off message” from that view.

In short, it is full steam ahead with Obama’s recently announced troop escalations now fully endorsed by the Democrat Party- controlled Senate. What is more problematic though is the state of the opposition to this Obamian war policy. The hearings themselves were lightly attended by anti-war activists, reflecting in part the partisan divide over “bad” Iraq and “good” Afghan policies in bourgeois politics and a general feeling that Obama should have his way, for now, on his policy decisions. Other than the hard-core pacifists of the American Friends Service Committee ilk, some leftist professors, mainly not well to the general public yet, and the usual coterie of “reds’, anti-imperialists and assorted anti militarists, including this writer, the political opposition at this point is negligible.

What appears to be shaping up in regard to the Obama Afghan War policy though is, unlike the rapid massive, if transient, buildup to the Bush Iraq war policy, a small but growing opposition similar to the trajectory of the opposition to the Vietnam War. If one wants to take a trip down “memory lane” on that score then Senator Kerry’s hearings are closer to the Fulbright Senate Vietnam War hearings of 1966 where the outcome was to placate the Lyndon Johnson administration on its war policy. Not a good event for anyone with liberal pretensions to be compared to and not something that an anti-warrior would want to be remembered for. But that is Senator Kerry’s problem. That is also President Obama’s problem. Our problem is to fight for a NO vote of the war appropriations. And it is never out of order, in fair weather or foul, to call for- Obama- Immediate Unconditional Withdrawal Of U.S./Allied Troops From Iraq and Afghanistan.

Fits and Starts On The Gay Marriage Front

Most of the news over the past year on the, mainly legal and legislative, fight for the democratic right of gays and lesbians to marry just like the rest of us has been positive, excepting that serious initiative reversal in California last November. Over the past few weeks the news has been hot and heavy and this week was no exception. A key court victory in the “heartland”, Iowa. A legislative veto override in Vermont. Now, this week, the Connecticut legislature has given its imprimatur to the Connecticut Supreme Court’s decision by changing any statutes that conflict with that court’s verdict. Maine and New York legislative bodies are both giving serious and heated attention to the issue. New York would be a key victory similar in impact to the California court’s decision.

I have only one comment to make here concerning these glad tidings. I do not know, and am not privy to, any inside information about the various legislative and political strategies of the gay and lesbian pro-marriage rights movement. I have heard, and the trends seem to confirm this, that at least part of the strategy is to make New England a gay marriage rights bastion. That seems to be proceeding nicely. What this brings to mind are the ebbs and flows of the slavery abolition movement and its historic center in the Northeastern United States in the 1830’s and 1840’s. Thus it seems appropriate that the leading role in the gay marriage rights started in New England. Here is the point though. Until the Georgias, Alabamas and Mississippis are “conquered”, places where gays and lesbians desperately need such rights, there will always be a sense of a “hollow” victory with each new announcement. Full Marriage Rights For Gays And Lesbians Everywhere!

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

*The Music Of The Irish Diaspora-The Dubliner Style

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of The Dubliners Performing "Song For Ireland".

CD REVIEW

I have mentioned in this space more times than one is reasonably allowed that in my youth in the early 1960’s I listened to a local folk music radio program on Sunday nights. That program played, along with highlighting the then current up and coming folk revivalists like Bob Dylan and Dave Van Ronk, much American traditional music including things like the “Child Ballads”. In short, music derived from parts of the “British” homeland. What I have not previously mentioned is that directly after that program I used to listen on that same radio station to the “Irish National Hour”, a show devoted to all the old more traditional and unknown Irish ballads and songs. And, by the way, attempted to instill a respect for Irish culture, Irish heritage and the Irish struggle against the “bloody” British. (That struggle continues in one form or another today but that is a subject for another time.) Of course, today when every other ‘progressive’ radio station (or other technological format) has its obligatory “Keltic Twilight” programs we are inundated with music from the old country this is no big deal but then it was another question.

All of this is by way of reviewing the music of the Irish Diaspora. Our Irish forebears had the ‘distinct’ opportunity of following the British flag wherever it went, under one set of terms or another. And in those days the sun never set on the British Empire. So there are plenty of far flung traditions to talk about. But, first comes the old country. Chocky Ar La (roughly translated- “Our Day Will Come”)


Making Joyful Irish Music

The Dubliners: The Definitive Transatlantic Collection, Castle Music, 1997


I have mentioned elsewhere that every devotee of the modern Irish folk tradition owes a debt of gratitude for the work of the likes of Tommy Makem and The Clancy Brothers and the group under review here, The Dubliners, for keeping the tradition alive and for making it popular with the young on both sides of the Atlantic. Not only for the songs, but for the various reel and jig instrumentals from the old days that they have produced. Here The Dubliners produce a veritable what’s what of Irish music from the above-mentioned instrumentals to the fighting patriotic songs to the fighting barroom songs to the doggerel. Let’s sort it out a little.

For my money their version of the instrumental, “Roisin Dubh”, still brings a lump to the throat. On a lighter note “My Love Is In America” is finely done. For the patriotic how about "The Sea Around Us” (to keep those nasty British rulers away-for good). Or a nicely done version of Dominic Behan’s “The Patriot’s Game”. For the beer hall crowd how about “The Leaving Of Liverpool”. Or back to a light touch that would make James Joyce proud “The Ragman's Ball” or “Finnegan’s Wake” (he probably got his idea from that song, in any case). Or the humorously murderous “The Woman From Wexford”. If you are looking for some serious Irish music that goes beyond St. Patty’s Day but can still be played then check out this well-done compilation. And you get Luke Kelly as a bonus. Nice, right?


"Seven Drunken Nights"

Artist/Band: Dubliners


As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a woollen blanket that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But buttons in a blanket sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
They're two lovely Geranium pots me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But laces in Geranium pots I never saw before

And as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my old head should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Saturday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two hands upon her breasts where my old hands should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them hands upon your breasts where my old hands should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely night gown that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before

As I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a thing in her thing where my old thing should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that thing in your thing where my old thing should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before

"The Rising Of The Moon"

Artist/Band: Dubliners


And come tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so
Hush a bhuachaill, hush and listen and his cheeks were all aglow
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together at the rising of the moon
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together at the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell, where the gathering is to be
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token, whistle out the marching tune
With your pike upon your shoulder at the rising of the moon
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder at the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud walled cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed morning's light
Murmurs ran along the valley to the banshee's lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river, that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor, whistle out the marching tune
And hoorah me boys for freedom 'tis the rising of the moon
'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon
And hoorah me boys for freedom 'tis the rising of the moon

"Whiskey In The Jar"

Artist/Band: Dubliners


As I was a goin' over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol and I then produced my rapier
Saying "Stand and deliver" for he were a bold deceiver

Chorus:
Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da
Wack fall the daddy-o, wack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy

(Chorus)

I went up to my chamber, all for to take a slumber
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure 't was no wonder
But Jenny blew me charges and she filled them up with water
Then sent for captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter

(Chorus)

't was early in the morning, just before I rose to travel
Up comes a band of footmen and likewise captain Farrell
I first produced me pistol for she stole away me rapier
I couldn't shoot the water, so a prisoner I was taken

(Chorus)

Now there's some take delight in the carriages a rolling
and others take delight in the hurling and the bowling
but I take delight in the juice of the barley
and courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early

(Chorus)

If anyone can aid me 't is my brother in the army
If I can find his station in Cork or in Killarney
And if he'll go with me, we'll go rovin' through Killkenny
And I'm sure he'll treat me better than my own a-sporting Jenny

(Chorus)

"The Irish Rover"

Artist/Band: Dubliners


On the Fourth of July 1806 we set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks for the grand City Hall in New York
'twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged for and aft and oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts and they called her the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags, we had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, and six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats' tails in the hold of the Irish Rover

There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute when the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootlin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille, though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk, he was cock of the walk and he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance that he sailed in the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule and Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mike McCann from the banks of the Bann was the skipper on the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost it's way in the fog
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two, just meself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, Oh Lord! what a shock, the bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned and the last of the Irish Rover

Sunday, April 19, 2009

*"Hard Times Come Again No More"- The Songs Of The "First Wave" Great Depression Of The 1930's- In Honor Of "Apple Annie" and "Pencil Slim"

Click On Title To Link To YouTube's Film Clip Of Kate And Anna McGarrigle, Friends And Family Performing Stephen Foster's "Hard Times Come Again No More".

CD REVIEWS

Hard Times Come Again No More: Early American Rural Songs Of Hard Times And Hardships, various artists, Volumes One and Two, Yazoo Records, 1998

This review covers both volumes of this two-part CD set.


Yes, I am aware that the 1930’s Great Depression was not the first depression that this country had faced but it was the first in which the United States, as a world power anointed by its successes in World War I, created worldwide economic chaos in its wake. However we will leave aside economic history and concentrate on today’s impeding great depression, as the daily news most painfully reminds us seems to be coming. Today I want to discuss what to do about that eventually in the short haul. Obviously, in the long haul we have to fight for a more rational system based on production (and distribution) for need, not for profit. In the meantime what are all of our fellow unemployed to do- right now! Well, now we do have to look back at history, and at least with a little tongue-in-cheek. Back in the 1930’s its seems that on every corner of every town and village one found an “Apple Annie” selling her apples for a nickel to survive or a “Pencil Slim” hawking his pencils for spare change. Tough times indeed. And to while away that long lonely, sometimes empty-handed, vigil many times they sang songs to get attention.

This brings us to the two volume CD set under review that contains some forty-six songs, almost solely from the rural southern part of the United States. The set features themes of hard times, harder times and then the merely desperate ones. For poor blacks and whites alike. The milieu covered in this set appears to be away from the Mississippi Delta that created the country blues and rather are songs from places like Arkansas (that takes a beating in a couple of songs here that will not sit well with Chamber of Commerce-types), North Carolina and Georgia. The jobs, or lack of jobs complained of, run from small unsuccessful tenant farming and sharecropping fighting off the boll weevil and, as several songs make clear, the Boll Weevil landlord or his agents to cheap labor in the textile mills. The instruments used, to my ear, include simple guitar (especially whatever odd-stringed one , as usual, Joe Williams has concocted on “Providence Helps The Poor People”), fiddles galore (a staple of country music and a real plus when, as here, some of the vocals, are reedy), mandolin, washboard, harmonica and whatever else could make noise cheaply with what was at hand.

Clearly with forty- six songs to choose from the quality, even on a Yazoo production that prides itself on both inclusiveness and getting the best sounds possible (and excellent liner notes as well), is uneven. However the following stand out here; obviously the Joe Williams tune mentioned above; Sleepy John Estes on “Down South Blues”; Blind Blake on “No Dough Blues”; Blind Lemon Jefferson on the classic “One Dime Blues” (if you could have put his voice together with Etta Baker’s guitar version you would have an incredible sound on that one); Mississippi John Hurt on “Blue Harvest Blues”; and The Graham Brothers on the title track “Hard Times Come Again No More” (an old Stephen Foster tune from the 1840’s so there is nothing new about hard times).

All of those names above have been mentioned before in this space and reflect their then emergence as country performers. However there is a second layer of performers here that intrigue me and bear further listening. Of that group The Bentley Boys on the now well-known “Down On Penny’s Farm” sticks out (a song, by the way, that Bob Dylan used as an idea for his early “Talking New York Blues”). Another is Blind Alfred Reed on “How Can A Poor Man Stand” as is the great guitarist Barbecue Bob on “We Sure Got Hard Times”. There are not many women on these CDs but Samantha Bumgarner is fine on “Georgia Blues”. The real sleeper on this whole compilation however is Elder Curry & His Congregation whooping it up on a gospelly “Hard Times”. Okay, so now you have the songs that you can sing on those lonely street corners. Now all you need is some apples or pencils. Hard times come again no more, indeed.

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?

Hard Times Come Again No More

(Stephen Collins Foster)


Let us pause in life's pleasures and count it's many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears;
Oh, hard times come again no more

Chorus
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
Hard times, hard times come again no more
Many days you have lingered
Around my cabin door
Oh hard times come again no more

While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay
There are frail forms fainting at the door
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say;
Oh, hard times come again no more

Chorus

There's a pale sorrowed maiden who toils her life away
With a worn heart whose better days are o'er
Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day
Oh, hard times come again no more

Chorus

'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave
'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
Oh, hard times come again no more

Chorus