Saturday, June 14, 2014
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Kerrville New Folk Competition winners
From Michael Kornfeld/Acoustic Music Scene:
Five songwriters and a duo have been named as winners in the 2014 Grassy Hill Kerrville New Folk Competition for Emerging Songwriters.
Daniel Boling (Albuquerque, New Mexico), Connor Garvey (South Portland, Maine), Frank Martin Gilligan (Dickinson, Texas), The Lovebirds featuring Lindsay White and Veronica May (San Diego, California), Matt Nakoa (Brooklyn, New York), and Caroline Spence (Nashville, Tennessee) were selected by a panel of judges from among 32 finalists who performed two songs each during the New Folk Concerts on May 24 and 25 as part of the Kerrville Folk Festival...
The six will perform in the New Folk Award Winners Concert on Sunday, June 1. They will receive cash honorariums and other prizes, as well as the opportunity to participate in the New Folk Concerts Fall Tour culminating with the opening slot on the 2014 Fischer Festival stage (previously Rice Fest). Established in 1972 at the urging of Peter Yarrow, the Kerrville New Folk concerts have become a highlight of the annual festival that is geared towards singer-songwriters of various musical styles.
RJ Frometa reports that The Lovebirds won the New Folk Songwriting Competition:
Folk/pop duo The Lovebirds are excited to announce that they have been named winners of the Kerrville Folk Festival’s New Folk songwriting competition in Kerrville, TX! The band’s Lindsay White was selected as a finalist in the competition for songs “Boat Train” and “Crimson Love” off their new album, Breakup Shmakeup. The “New Folk” competition has been a notable part in the early success of artists like Lyle Lovett and Nanci Griffith. Of the 800 entries received each year, 32 writers/performers are selected as finalists and are invited to perform their original songs at the Kerrville Folk Festival during the “New Folk” concerts over Memorial Day weekend. Of those 32 finalists, six are named winners and invited back to perform in Kerville the following weekend...
Five songwriters and a duo have been named as winners in the 2014 Grassy Hill Kerrville New Folk Competition for Emerging Songwriters.
Daniel Boling (Albuquerque, New Mexico), Connor Garvey (South Portland, Maine), Frank Martin Gilligan (Dickinson, Texas), The Lovebirds featuring Lindsay White and Veronica May (San Diego, California), Matt Nakoa (Brooklyn, New York), and Caroline Spence (Nashville, Tennessee) were selected by a panel of judges from among 32 finalists who performed two songs each during the New Folk Concerts on May 24 and 25 as part of the Kerrville Folk Festival...
The six will perform in the New Folk Award Winners Concert on Sunday, June 1. They will receive cash honorariums and other prizes, as well as the opportunity to participate in the New Folk Concerts Fall Tour culminating with the opening slot on the 2014 Fischer Festival stage (previously Rice Fest). Established in 1972 at the urging of Peter Yarrow, the Kerrville New Folk concerts have become a highlight of the annual festival that is geared towards singer-songwriters of various musical styles.
RJ Frometa reports that The Lovebirds won the New Folk Songwriting Competition:
Folk/pop duo The Lovebirds are excited to announce that they have been named winners of the Kerrville Folk Festival’s New Folk songwriting competition in Kerrville, TX! The band’s Lindsay White was selected as a finalist in the competition for songs “Boat Train” and “Crimson Love” off their new album, Breakup Shmakeup. The “New Folk” competition has been a notable part in the early success of artists like Lyle Lovett and Nanci Griffith. Of the 800 entries received each year, 32 writers/performers are selected as finalists and are invited to perform their original songs at the Kerrville Folk Festival during the “New Folk” concerts over Memorial Day weekend. Of those 32 finalists, six are named winners and invited back to perform in Kerville the following weekend...
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Folk music and narrative
"...Tonight's show reminds us that folk music, at its best, doesn't groove like rock, blues or jazz music. Its pulse is dictated by the narrative: it pauses, it hesitates, it bends time..."
Sunday, June 1, 2014
My next five arbitrary choices for the most moving folk songs
*** Here's my original list of five.
Keep in mind this type of list is so idiosyncratic that thankfully no two people would ever makes the same choices. In no particular order:
The songs of the late Dave Carter offers many possibilities and my selection is "The Gentle Arms of Eden" because of this stanza, particularly the last two lines, close to the conclusion:
On a sleepy endless ocean
When the world lay in a dream
There was rhythm in the splash and roll
But not a voice to sing
So the moon fell on the breakers
And the morning warmed the waves
'Til a single cell did jump and hum
For joy as though to say
{Refrain}
This is my home
This is my only home
This is the only sacred ground that I have ever known
And should I stray
In the dark night alone
Rock me Goddess in the gentle arms of Eden
Then the day shone bright and rounder
'Til the one turned into two
And the two into ten thousand things
And old things into new
And on some virgin beach head
One lonesome critter crawled
And he looked about and shouted out
In his most astonished drawl
{Refrain}
Then all the sky was buzzin'
And the ground was carpet green
And the wary children of the woods
Went dancin' in between
And the people sang rejoicing
When the fields were glad with grain
This song of celebration
From their cities on the plain
{Refrain}
Now there's smoke across the harbor
And there's factories on the shore
And the world is ill with greed and will
And enterprise of war
But I will lay my burdens
In the cradle of your grace
And the shining beaches of your love
And the sea of your embrace
{Refrain}
+++++++
Next is Bob Franke's "For Real" for these lyrics in particular:
Death took the husband of a neighbor of mine, on a highway, with a drunk at the wheel.
She told me "Keep your clean hands off the laundry he left, and don't tell me you know how I feel."
She had a tape that he'd sent her from a Holiday Inn, and she never played it much in the day,
But when I heard him say he loved her through the window at night, I just stayed the hell away.
There's a hole in the middle of the prettiest life, so the lawyers and the prophets say.
Not your father nor your mother nor your lover's gonna ever make it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night to be afraid of the way we feel;
Let's be kind to each other, not forever, but for real.
My father never put his parachute on in the Pacific back in World War Two;
He said he'd rather go down in familiar flames than get lost in that endless blue,
And some of that blue got into my eyes, and we never stopped fighting that war,
Until first understood about endlessness, and I loved him like never before.
It's lucky that my daughter got her mother's nose, and just a little of her father's eyes,
And we've got just enough love that when the longing takes me, well, it takes me by surprise,
And I remember that longing from my highway days, though I never could give it a name;
It's lucky I discovered in the nick of time that the woman and the child aren't to blame
For the hole in the middle of a pretty good life, I only face it 'cause it's here to stay:
Not my father, nor my mother, nor my daughter, nor my lover, nor the highway made it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night to be ashamed of the way I feel.
I'll be kind to my loved ones, not forever, but for real.
Some say that God is a lover; some say it's an endless void;
Some say both, and some say She's angry, and some say just annoyed,
But if God felt a hammer in the palm of His hand, then God knows the way we feel;
And love lasts forever, forever and for real. Love lasts forever.
+++++++
Bob Franke earns another entry here and it's "Hard Love" -- the lyrics are a masterpiece throughout.
I remember growing up like it was only yesterday
Mom & Daddy tried their best to guide me on my way
But the hard times & the liquor drove the easy love away
And the only love I knew about was hard love
It was hard love, every hour of the day
When Christmas to my birthday was a million years away
And the fear that came between them drove the tears into my play
There was love in daddy's house, but it was hard love
And I recall the gentle courtesy you gave me as I tried
To dissemble in politeness all the love I felt inside
And for every song of laughter was another song that cried
This ain't no easy weekend, this is hard love
It was hard love, every step of the way
Hard to be so close to you, so hard to turn away
And when all the stars and sentimental songs dissolved to day
There was nothing left to sing about but hard love
So I loved you for your courage, and your gentle sense of shame
And I loved you for your laughter and your language and your name
And I knew it was impossible, but I loved you just the same
Though' the only love I gave to you was hard love
It was hard love, it was hard on you, I know
When the only love I gave to you was love I couldn't show
You forgave the heart that loved you as your lover turned to go
Leaving nothing but the memory of hard love
So I'm standing in this phone booth with a dollar and a dime
Wondering what to say to you to ease your troubled mind
For the Lord's cross might redeem us, but our own just wastes our time
And to tell the two apart is always hard, love
So I'll tell you that I love you even though I'm far away
And I'll tell you how you change me as I live from day to day
How you help me to accept myself and I won't forget to say
Love is never wasted, even when it's hard love
Yes, it's hard love, but it's love all the same
Not the stuff of fantasy, but more than just a game
And the only kind of miracle that's worthy of the name
For the love that heals our lives is mostly hard love
+++++++
The day that Jesus arrived in Jerusalem,
The adventure almost over, the night he hadn't slept
Dreams and premonitions made him tired and emotional,
And that's why Jesus wept.
He wasn't scared of dying, he'd made that commitment
Fulfilling the old prophecy, his bargain he had kept
He was due some satisfaction, but he was deeply troubled,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Was this his true destiny, or could he still make changes,
Someone else's nightmare into which he'd stepped?
Damage limitation couldn't save the situation,
And that's why Jesus wept.
In his dream he saw the crusade and all wars that would follow,
Declared in his name when he thought he'd been direct
Love thy neighbour, do not kill, and turn the other cheek,
And that's why Jesus wept.
He saw the inquisition and the burning of the saints,
The conversion of the innocents he swore he would protect
He saw them bless the bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Though Peter would betray him, he made him the rock
On which he would build his church to sort of keep him in his debt
A man about to die is allowed some confusion,
And that's why Jesus wept.
He thought of his disciples, especially of Judas,
The job that was ordained for him and the reward he'd collect
He saw him in the tree with the silver coins around him,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he thought about the good times when he turned the tables over,
Chastised the money lenders and he earned the boy's respect
He was proud of Godly anger, but ashamed of manly temper,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Rumours started flying about water into wine,
Sight to the blind and that he'd even raised the dead
The biggest miracle was that anyone believed it,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he mused on human nature, how fickle were the public,
So ready to accept him, so quick now to reject
Where were the five thousand he fed with loaves and fishes?
And that's why Jesus wept.
In his dream he saw a garden with all his friends asleep,
He walked away the hours until the morning crept
He wondered would the nails hurt, would he be man enough?
And that's why Jesus wept.
Was he supposed to bear it like a man or like a God,
Would tears show a weakness or a strength by their effect?
Would they be viewed as compassion or failure and self-pity?
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he saw his houses burning on both sides of a border,
Saw the guiltless suffer with the guilty and the rest
And when they called his name and he knew he couldn't help them,
That's why Jesus wept.
Then he saw two armies marching and he heard their crucifixes
Reduced to superstitious muted jangling round their necks
And he heard his name intoned as they interred their companion,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he thought about his mother and the stories she had told him,
Who'd filled his dreams with angels, put voices in his head
Then the scent of pine trees made him think of dear old Joseph,
And that's why Jesus wept.
+++++++
In "Mr. Edison's Electric Chair," Ronny Elliott reels off a litany of hideous crimes perpetuated against adults and children by the singer/subject of this song. This is an element just not heard in folk music where brutality is generally more diffused and attributed to the actions of corporations, certain political figures, some in the military, racists, religious extremists -- not unknown individuals. You will be repelled by the acts laid out in the lyrics but being moved isn't always a pleasant reaction.
I didn't mean to hurt that kid, I just wanted to show him a little fun
A coca-cola bottle's not a real weapon and I don't even own a gun
I never would'a touched that little girl but for voices in my head
I thought she was just sleepin', I didn't know she was dead
Yeah, they washed me up and shaved my hair
They're gonna put me in Mr. Edison's electric chair
The Reverend Jacks always gave me a nickel for washin' his Model T
I figured it was worth at least a dime so I tied him to a tree
I should'a let him go but he started in to pleadin'
So, I crushed his skull, picked his pocket, and I left him broke and bleedin'
I heard 'em saying: boys, here he comes, I declare
They're gonna put him in Mr. Edison's electric chair
I never snatched that Wilson baby but I helped with the ransom note
And ol' Gibby couldn't read much so he didn't know what I wrote
I said they could find her in a crate down by the old school well
Yeah, I guess droppin' her over the edge seals me a special spot in hell
Yeah, call the chaplain to say a prayer
Before they put me in Mr. Edison's electrical chair
And those crazy folks in the home over by the county line
I'm always thinkin' of 'em when I've had too much red port wine
So, I blocked off the doors and I nailed shut the windows
And I set that place ablaze, and that's wrong, I s'pose
Yeah, throw the switch, boys, say a prayer
They're gonna kill me in Mr. Edison's electric chair
Keep an eye on this face, if you dare
They're gonna kill me in Mr. Edison's electric chair
Keep in mind this type of list is so idiosyncratic that thankfully no two people would ever makes the same choices. In no particular order:
The songs of the late Dave Carter offers many possibilities and my selection is "The Gentle Arms of Eden" because of this stanza, particularly the last two lines, close to the conclusion:
Now there's smoke across the harbor, and there's factories on the shoreIt's nature as sanctuary for relief that draws me in and the repeating of it, mantra-like, is compelling.
And the world is ill with greed and will and enterprise of war
But i will lay my burden in the cradle of your grace
And the shining beaches of your love and the sea of your embrace
On a sleepy endless ocean
When the world lay in a dream
There was rhythm in the splash and roll
But not a voice to sing
So the moon fell on the breakers
And the morning warmed the waves
'Til a single cell did jump and hum
For joy as though to say
{Refrain}
This is my home
This is my only home
This is the only sacred ground that I have ever known
And should I stray
In the dark night alone
Rock me Goddess in the gentle arms of Eden
Then the day shone bright and rounder
'Til the one turned into two
And the two into ten thousand things
And old things into new
And on some virgin beach head
One lonesome critter crawled
And he looked about and shouted out
In his most astonished drawl
{Refrain}
Then all the sky was buzzin'
And the ground was carpet green
And the wary children of the woods
Went dancin' in between
And the people sang rejoicing
When the fields were glad with grain
This song of celebration
From their cities on the plain
{Refrain}
Now there's smoke across the harbor
And there's factories on the shore
And the world is ill with greed and will
And enterprise of war
But I will lay my burdens
In the cradle of your grace
And the shining beaches of your love
And the sea of your embrace
{Refrain}
+++++++
Next is Bob Franke's "For Real" for these lyrics in particular:
There's a hole in the middle of the prettiest life,We all have 'holes' that only we can fill (or try to) but need to share this 'condition' in order to ever have the chance to truly feel any connection of depth. That and living a life of kindness (however fully unattainable) towards others.
so the lawyers and the prophets say.
Not your father nor your mother nor your lover's
gonna ever make it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night
to be afraid of the way we feel;
Let's be kind to each other, not forever, but for real.
Death took the husband of a neighbor of mine, on a highway, with a drunk at the wheel.
She told me "Keep your clean hands off the laundry he left, and don't tell me you know how I feel."
She had a tape that he'd sent her from a Holiday Inn, and she never played it much in the day,
But when I heard him say he loved her through the window at night, I just stayed the hell away.
There's a hole in the middle of the prettiest life, so the lawyers and the prophets say.
Not your father nor your mother nor your lover's gonna ever make it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night to be afraid of the way we feel;
Let's be kind to each other, not forever, but for real.
My father never put his parachute on in the Pacific back in World War Two;
He said he'd rather go down in familiar flames than get lost in that endless blue,
And some of that blue got into my eyes, and we never stopped fighting that war,
Until first understood about endlessness, and I loved him like never before.
It's lucky that my daughter got her mother's nose, and just a little of her father's eyes,
And we've got just enough love that when the longing takes me, well, it takes me by surprise,
And I remember that longing from my highway days, though I never could give it a name;
It's lucky I discovered in the nick of time that the woman and the child aren't to blame
For the hole in the middle of a pretty good life, I only face it 'cause it's here to stay:
Not my father, nor my mother, nor my daughter, nor my lover, nor the highway made it go away,
And there's too much darkness in an endless night to be ashamed of the way I feel.
I'll be kind to my loved ones, not forever, but for real.
Some say that God is a lover; some say it's an endless void;
Some say both, and some say She's angry, and some say just annoyed,
But if God felt a hammer in the palm of His hand, then God knows the way we feel;
And love lasts forever, forever and for real. Love lasts forever.
+++++++
Bob Franke earns another entry here and it's "Hard Love" -- the lyrics are a masterpiece throughout.
I remember growing up like it was only yesterday
Mom & Daddy tried their best to guide me on my way
But the hard times & the liquor drove the easy love away
And the only love I knew about was hard love
It was hard love, every hour of the day
When Christmas to my birthday was a million years away
And the fear that came between them drove the tears into my play
There was love in daddy's house, but it was hard love
And I recall the gentle courtesy you gave me as I tried
To dissemble in politeness all the love I felt inside
And for every song of laughter was another song that cried
This ain't no easy weekend, this is hard love
It was hard love, every step of the way
Hard to be so close to you, so hard to turn away
And when all the stars and sentimental songs dissolved to day
There was nothing left to sing about but hard love
So I loved you for your courage, and your gentle sense of shame
And I loved you for your laughter and your language and your name
And I knew it was impossible, but I loved you just the same
Though' the only love I gave to you was hard love
It was hard love, it was hard on you, I know
When the only love I gave to you was love I couldn't show
You forgave the heart that loved you as your lover turned to go
Leaving nothing but the memory of hard love
So I'm standing in this phone booth with a dollar and a dime
Wondering what to say to you to ease your troubled mind
For the Lord's cross might redeem us, but our own just wastes our time
And to tell the two apart is always hard, love
So I'll tell you that I love you even though I'm far away
And I'll tell you how you change me as I live from day to day
How you help me to accept myself and I won't forget to say
Love is never wasted, even when it's hard love
Yes, it's hard love, but it's love all the same
Not the stuff of fantasy, but more than just a game
And the only kind of miracle that's worthy of the name
For the love that heals our lives is mostly hard love
+++++++
Ralph McTell composes in a manner like no other on this subject in "Jesus Wept" and this is another one, taken in its totality, capable of moving both the devoutest believer or atheist.
The day that Jesus arrived in Jerusalem,
The adventure almost over, the night he hadn't slept
Dreams and premonitions made him tired and emotional,
And that's why Jesus wept.
He wasn't scared of dying, he'd made that commitment
Fulfilling the old prophecy, his bargain he had kept
He was due some satisfaction, but he was deeply troubled,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Was this his true destiny, or could he still make changes,
Someone else's nightmare into which he'd stepped?
Damage limitation couldn't save the situation,
And that's why Jesus wept.
In his dream he saw the crusade and all wars that would follow,
Declared in his name when he thought he'd been direct
Love thy neighbour, do not kill, and turn the other cheek,
And that's why Jesus wept.
He saw the inquisition and the burning of the saints,
The conversion of the innocents he swore he would protect
He saw them bless the bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Though Peter would betray him, he made him the rock
On which he would build his church to sort of keep him in his debt
A man about to die is allowed some confusion,
And that's why Jesus wept.
He thought of his disciples, especially of Judas,
The job that was ordained for him and the reward he'd collect
He saw him in the tree with the silver coins around him,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he thought about the good times when he turned the tables over,
Chastised the money lenders and he earned the boy's respect
He was proud of Godly anger, but ashamed of manly temper,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Rumours started flying about water into wine,
Sight to the blind and that he'd even raised the dead
The biggest miracle was that anyone believed it,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he mused on human nature, how fickle were the public,
So ready to accept him, so quick now to reject
Where were the five thousand he fed with loaves and fishes?
And that's why Jesus wept.
In his dream he saw a garden with all his friends asleep,
He walked away the hours until the morning crept
He wondered would the nails hurt, would he be man enough?
And that's why Jesus wept.
Was he supposed to bear it like a man or like a God,
Would tears show a weakness or a strength by their effect?
Would they be viewed as compassion or failure and self-pity?
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he saw his houses burning on both sides of a border,
Saw the guiltless suffer with the guilty and the rest
And when they called his name and he knew he couldn't help them,
That's why Jesus wept.
Then he saw two armies marching and he heard their crucifixes
Reduced to superstitious muted jangling round their necks
And he heard his name intoned as they interred their companion,
And that's why Jesus wept.
Then he thought about his mother and the stories she had told him,
Who'd filled his dreams with angels, put voices in his head
Then the scent of pine trees made him think of dear old Joseph,
And that's why Jesus wept.
+++++++
In "Mr. Edison's Electric Chair," Ronny Elliott reels off a litany of hideous crimes perpetuated against adults and children by the singer/subject of this song. This is an element just not heard in folk music where brutality is generally more diffused and attributed to the actions of corporations, certain political figures, some in the military, racists, religious extremists -- not unknown individuals. You will be repelled by the acts laid out in the lyrics but being moved isn't always a pleasant reaction.
I didn't mean to hurt that kid, I just wanted to show him a little fun
A coca-cola bottle's not a real weapon and I don't even own a gun
I never would'a touched that little girl but for voices in my head
I thought she was just sleepin', I didn't know she was dead
Yeah, they washed me up and shaved my hair
They're gonna put me in Mr. Edison's electric chair
The Reverend Jacks always gave me a nickel for washin' his Model T
I figured it was worth at least a dime so I tied him to a tree
I should'a let him go but he started in to pleadin'
So, I crushed his skull, picked his pocket, and I left him broke and bleedin'
I heard 'em saying: boys, here he comes, I declare
They're gonna put him in Mr. Edison's electric chair
I never snatched that Wilson baby but I helped with the ransom note
And ol' Gibby couldn't read much so he didn't know what I wrote
I said they could find her in a crate down by the old school well
Yeah, I guess droppin' her over the edge seals me a special spot in hell
Yeah, call the chaplain to say a prayer
Before they put me in Mr. Edison's electrical chair
And those crazy folks in the home over by the county line
I'm always thinkin' of 'em when I've had too much red port wine
So, I blocked off the doors and I nailed shut the windows
And I set that place ablaze, and that's wrong, I s'pose
Yeah, throw the switch, boys, say a prayer
They're gonna kill me in Mr. Edison's electric chair
Keep an eye on this face, if you dare
They're gonna kill me in Mr. Edison's electric chair
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)