"The Basement Tapes"

Sasha Frere-Jones digs into Bob Dylan's "Basement Tapes."  She notes: "Next week, a six-CD set called “The Basement Tapes Complete: The Bootleg Series, Vol. 11,” featuring a hundred and thirty-nine songs, will be released..." 

"...He was rummaging through American popular music to find sounds that might resonate and free him from whatever self he had created. Dylan had débuted as a thinly disguised Woody Guthrie imitator, turned into a folk-song writer of fearsome economy, and was moving into a third phase, which he described, in a 1978 interview, as “that thin, that wild-mercury sound,” referring to albums like “Blonde on Blonde” (1966) and the electric albums before it..." 

Folk Music & Social Issues #2

Neal Hagberg (of Neal & Leandra) wrote this song. It begins rather innocuously, leads into what could be interpreted as ominous considering what is known of history and then the 'surprise' is unveiled.


Ready for Memphis

Three ties and my black suit
Shaving kit and shiny shoes
Dusted off an old suitcase
Tucked in my bible and a bottle of booze

Fifty bucks in my pocket
Try to get me a cheap room
Three days, then it’s over
It’s just something I’ve got to do

Chorus
I’m ready for Memphis
There’s going to be a big meeting there
A whole lot could happen
There’s just something in that sweet magnolia air

Ten hours on a Greyhound
Old ladies and stale air
Hopeless men riding shotgun
I just look out my window and stare

Pick away at my sack lunch
My wife packed it before work
She thinks I’m crazy
She’s afraid that I’ll get hurt, but…

Chorus

Memphis streets are deserted
I guess because it’s so early
Garbage piled on the corners
I pick up an old paper and read
Feels like a storm coming
The air is hot and sticky
I’d better find a motel room
So I can wash up and be ready

Chorus

I heard he was coming
I don’t want to be late
I know I’m not colored
But I don’t think that should matter in 1968
I know it’s a long shot
But it would mean everything
If I could just shake hands
With Dr. King

Chorus

Folk Music & Social Issues #1

Let's begin a series of sorts: folks songs that depict social issues and summon a visceral emotional reaction.

One that always effects me is "Number One in America" by David Massengill.

First the lyrics, followed by the video:

In Nineteen hundred and sixty-three
In my hometown, Bristol Tennessee
I was sitting on my mother's knee
Watching "Amos 'n' Andy" on TV

Amos was Santa Claus on Christmas Eve
A little girl was tugging at his sleeve
Saying, "Can I have a doll my own color please?"
He Said, "Honey, you can make believe..."

Just then came a call on the telephone
It was the mayor, he asked if my daddy was home
This was for his ears alone
Mom and me listened on the second phone

Mayor said, "The freedom Riders are on their way
And they'll be here by Christmas day
Our laws they vow to disobey
'Cause our school is as white as the milky way

Well, now we're really in a fix
We can't let 'em show us up like country hicks
But once the races mix
It's good-bye Jim Crow politics

First it's forty acres and a mule
Then they want to swim in our swimming pool
Pretty soon they'll be wanting to go to school
Where we were taught the golden rule"

Imagine them telling us how to live
Imagine them telling us how to live

Chorus:
We're number one in America
Number one in America
Beat the drum for Uncle Sam
Overcome in Birmingham
Dynamite in a Baptist church
Four teenaged girls lost in the lurch
Fire hoses and the billy clubs
Police dogs and the racist thugs
Nightriders and the lynching mobs
Lawmen say they're only doing their jobs
To stay number one in America.

Ax-handles vs. the right to vote
All white jury, that's all she wrote
Back of the bus, don't rock the boat
Separate but equal by the throat

That was twenty-odd years ago
Where's the change in the status quo?
The freedom land is lying low
it's shackled down on rotten row

The black skinned man still gets the snub
When he applies to the country club
But he still gets hired to trim the shrubs
Get down on the floor and scrub

There's a businessman out on his yacht
He's a rain or sunshine patriot
He says it's all a commie plot
To be Number One in America...

[Chorus]
The Ku Klux Klan is still around
With a permit to march in my home town
But only on Virginia's ground
The Tennesse side turned them down

The sheriff stood there with his deputies
Ostensibly to keep the peace
But he made us this guarantee
"By God, They'll not march into Tennessee!"

The network cameras were triple tiered
We laughed and cried, we hooted and jeered
But mostly we stood there unfeared
'Til the Ku Klux Klan dissappeared

In some far off distant dawn
When a Black is president and not a pawn
Will they burn crosses on the white house lawn
And talk of all the days bygone

Imagine them telling us how lo live
Imagine them telling us how to live

We're number one in America...
[Chorus]

Last Christmas Eve at the K-Mart store
A white family there, they was dirt poor
Father said, "Kids, pick one toy - no more
Even though we can ill afford..."

I watched his son choose a basketball
The oldest girl a creole shawl
The littlest girl chose a black skinned doll
And she held it to her chest and all

I watched to see how they'd react
Since they were white and the doll was black
But the mom and dad were matter-of-fact
They checked to see if the doll was cracked

So may you make a rebel stand
Where black and white go hand in hand
Until they reach the freedom land
Where the lion lies down with the lamb

Chorus:
O Number one in America
Number one in America
Beat the drum for Uncle Sam
Overcome in Birmingham
Dynamite in a Baptist church
Four teenaged girls lost in the lurch
Firehoses and the billy clubs
Police dogs and the racist thugs
Turn back the clock to Little Rock
Bought and sold on the auction block
Nightriders and the lynching mobs
Lawmen say they're only doing their job
To stay number one in America

We shall overcome someday

Josh Ritter's "Thin Blue Flame"

Here is Josh Ritter performing "Thin Blue Line" followed by the lyrics  --  nothing will if this doesn't inspire you to believe that depth and soulful nourishment still exist.



I became a thin blue flame
Polished on a mountain range
And over hills and fields I flew
Wrapped up in a royal blue
I flew over Royal City last night
A bullfighter on the horns of a new moon's light
Caesar's ghost I saw the war-time tides
The prince of Denmark's father's still and quiet
And the whole world was looking to get drowned
Trees were a fist shaking themselves at the clouds
I looked over curtains and it was then that I knew
Only a full house gonna make it through

I became a thin blue wire
That held the world above the fire
And so it was I saw behind
Heaven's just a thin blue line
If God's up there he's in a cold dark room
The heavenly host are just the cold dark moons
He bent down and made the world in seven days
And ever since he's been a'walking away
Mixing with nitrogen in lonely holes
Where neither seraphim or raindrops go
I see an old man wandering the halls alone
Only a full house gonna make a home

I became a thin blue stream
The smoke between asleep and dreams
And in that clear blue undertow
I saw Royal City far below
Borders soft with refugees
Streets a'swimming with amputees
It's a Bible or a bullet they put over your heart
It's getting harder and harder to tell them apart
Days are nights and the nights are long
Beating hearts blossom into walking bombs
And those still looking in the clear blue sky for a sign
Get missiles from so high they might as well be divine
Now the dogs are howling at our door
Singing bout vengeance like it's the joy of the Lord
Bringing justice to the enemies not the other way round
They're guilty when killed and they're killed where they're found
If what's loosed on earth will be loosed up on high
It's a Hell of a Heaven we must go to when we die
Where even Laurel begs Hardy for vengeance please
The fat man is crying on his hands and his knees
Back in the peacetime he caught roses on the stage
Now he twists indecision takes bourbon for rage
Lead pellets peppering aluminum
Halcyon, laudanum and Opium
Sings kiss thee hardy this poisoned cup
His winding sheet is busy winding up
In darkness he looks for the light that has died
But you need faith for the same reasons that it's so hard to find
And this whole thing is headed for a terrible wreck
And like good tragedy that's what we expect
At night I make plans for a city laid down
Like the hips of a girl on the spring covered ground
Spirals and capitals like the twist of a script
Streets named for heroes that could almost exist
The fruit trees of Eden and the gardens that seem
To float like the smoke from a lithium dream
Cedar trees growing in the cool of the squares
The young women walking in the portals of prayer
And the future glass buildings and the past an address
And the weddings in pollen and the wine bottomless
And all wrongs forgotten and all vengeance made right
The suffering verbs put to sleep in the night
The future descending like a bright chandelier
And the world just beginning and the guests in good cheer
In Royal City I fell into a trance
Oh it's hell to believe there ain't a hell of a chance

I woke beneath a clear blue sky
The sun a shout the breeze a sigh
My old hometown and the streets I knew
Were wrapped up in a royal blue
I heard my friends laughing out across the fields
The girls in the gloaming and the birds on the wheel
The raw smell of horses and the warm smell of hay
Cicadas electric in the heat of the day
A run of Three Sisters and the flush of the land
And the lake was a diamond in the valley's hand
The straight of the highway and the scattered out hearts
They were coming together they pulling apart
And angels everywhere were in my midst
In the ones that I loved in the ones that I kissed
I wondered what it was I'd been looking for up above
Heaven is so big there ain't no need to look up
So I stopped looking for royal cities in the air
Only a full house gonna have a prayer

Also, do read the interpretive comments on this page, (scroll down a bit).

Eliza Gilkyson interviewed

James Kelly interviews Eliza Gilkyson.