"War on the Workers a Tribute to Anne Feeney"
Anne Feeney site
Monday, December 26, 2016
An Anne Feeney update
"War on the Workers a Tribute to Anne Feeney"
Anne Feeney site
Friday, December 23, 2016
John Weingart's 20 Great Albums from 2016
Date: Sat, 17 Dec 2016
From: John Weingart <Radio@VERYSELDOM.COM>
Subject: 20 Great Albums from 2016
Like all such lists, this one undoubtedly, unfairly misses many other
wonderful albums that I didn’t hear at all or, perhaps forgot about or
didn't fully appreciate...
Chris Coole: The Tumbling River (Northern)
Cricket Tell The Weather: Tell The Story Right
De Gregori Canta Bob Dylan: Caravan (Sony)
Greensky Bluegrass: Shouted, Written & Quoted
Erwin Helfer: Erwin Helfer Way (The Sirens)
Terri Hendrix: The Slaughterhouse Sessions
Ivor Johns: Good Days a Comin (Right Side Up)
Blind Willie Johnson: Songs of... God Don't Ever Change (Alligator)
Daniel Koulack: Frailing To Succeed (Little Giant)
Jim Kweskin & Geoff Muldaur: Penny's Farm (Kingswood)
Evie Ladin Band: Jump The Fire
The Lark And The Loon: Songbirds and Fog
John Lilly: Thinking About The Weather (JavaLina)
David Maloney: My Father’s Shoulders (Pelican)
Mandolin Orange: Grandfaller (Yep Roc)
Dave Murphy: American Landscape
The Piedmont Melody Makers: Wonderful World Outside
The Stray Birds: Magic Fire (Yep Roc)
Eli West: The Both (HearthPR)
Kenny White: Long List of Priors
John Weingart
Music You Can't Hear On The Radio
103.3 FM and WPRB.com
Sundays, 7:00-10:00 pm
www.veryseldom.com
From: John Weingart <Radio@VERYSELDOM.COM>
Subject: 20 Great Albums from 2016
Like all such lists, this one undoubtedly, unfairly misses many other
wonderful albums that I didn’t hear at all or, perhaps forgot about or
didn't fully appreciate...
Chris Coole: The Tumbling River (Northern)
Cricket Tell The Weather: Tell The Story Right
De Gregori Canta Bob Dylan: Caravan (Sony)
Greensky Bluegrass: Shouted, Written & Quoted
Erwin Helfer: Erwin Helfer Way (The Sirens)
Terri Hendrix: The Slaughterhouse Sessions
Ivor Johns: Good Days a Comin (Right Side Up)
Blind Willie Johnson: Songs of... God Don't Ever Change (Alligator)
Daniel Koulack: Frailing To Succeed (Little Giant)
Jim Kweskin & Geoff Muldaur: Penny's Farm (Kingswood)
Evie Ladin Band: Jump The Fire
The Lark And The Loon: Songbirds and Fog
John Lilly: Thinking About The Weather (JavaLina)
David Maloney: My Father’s Shoulders (Pelican)
Mandolin Orange: Grandfaller (Yep Roc)
Dave Murphy: American Landscape
The Piedmont Melody Makers: Wonderful World Outside
The Stray Birds: Magic Fire (Yep Roc)
Eli West: The Both (HearthPR)
Kenny White: Long List of Priors
John Weingart
Music You Can't Hear On The Radio
103.3 FM and WPRB.com
Sundays, 7:00-10:00 pm
www.veryseldom.com
One of Garnet Rogers' 'quiet' songs
Garnet Rogers can snarl with the best -- "Stormfront" and "Sleeping Buffalo" -- and also purr with the finest:
Who could have known
The sky could turn so calm after a storm?
Who could have known
That the evening breeze might feel this sweet and warm?
And the sky above the trees where the moon has hung its horns
Has faded to the palest shades of grey
The starlings splash and chatter in the fragrant fields of corn
How green it’s grown
Who could have known?
Who could have known
That I might finally shed some pain and start to live
Who could have known
I might finally find it in me to forgive
All that lay between us through those bitter hurtful years
Has melted like dark ice beneath the sun
And the bitterness and the tears and the pain to which I clung
Have finally gone
Who could have known?
Who could have known
That I might look and finally tell gold from dross
Who could have known
I could accept now what was gained and what was lost
All that seemed to matter grows lesser by the day
And a shadow has been lifted from my heart
Like the clean rain falling on me this blessed peaceful day
Like diamonds shone
Who could have known?"
Who could have known
The sky could turn so calm after a storm?
Who could have known
That the evening breeze might feel this sweet and warm?
And the sky above the trees where the moon has hung its horns
Has faded to the palest shades of grey
The starlings splash and chatter in the fragrant fields of corn
How green it’s grown
Who could have known?
Who could have known
That I might finally shed some pain and start to live
Who could have known
I might finally find it in me to forgive
All that lay between us through those bitter hurtful years
Has melted like dark ice beneath the sun
And the bitterness and the tears and the pain to which I clung
Have finally gone
Who could have known?
Who could have known
That I might look and finally tell gold from dross
Who could have known
I could accept now what was gained and what was lost
All that seemed to matter grows lesser by the day
And a shadow has been lifted from my heart
Like the clean rain falling on me this blessed peaceful day
Like diamonds shone
Who could have known?"
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Susan Werner and her provocative lyrics, plus more
(Why Is Your) Heaven So Small
excuse me sir, what did you say?
when you shout so loud, it's hard to tell
you say that i must change my ways
for i am surely bound to hell
well i know you'd damn me if you could
but my friend, that's simply not your call
if god is great and god is good
why is your heaven so small
you say you know you say you've read
that holy bible up on your shelf
do you recall when jesus said
judge not, lest ye be judged yourself
for i know you'd damn me if you could
but my friend, that's simply not your call
if god is great, and god is good
why is your heaven so small
with your fists that shake, and your eyes that burn
what makes you do these things you do?
i would not be surprised to learn
someone somewhere excluded you
but my friend, imagine it if you would
a love much mightier than us all
o if god is great and god is good
why is your heaven so small
+++++++
+++++++
Our Father (The New Revised)
Thy kingdom come to every nation
Thy will be done in everything we do
Lord, lead us not into temptation
And deliver us
from those who think they're You
Lord send us forth to be of service
To build the schools and dig the wells
And deliver us from the creepy preachers
With their narrow minds and very wide lapels
Lord give us strength to bring compassion
to every corner of the world
And please allow for women in the Catholic priesthood
And remind the pope that he coulda been a girl
Lord deliver us from politicians
Who drop Your name in every speech
As if they're Your best friend from high school
As if they practice what they preach
+++++++
Sunday Morning
there is someplace that 'm supposed to be
keeps returning
the feeling keeps coming over me
just like music
or like sunlight on a distant memory
sunday morning
sunday morning
my mother choosing what to wear
my father combs his jet black hair
we are their little prizes
in our mary janes and clip on ties
we hurry down the aisle
the neighbors smile because we're
late again
on sunday morning
there is someplace ...
daddy prays because the money's tight
mama prays she'll raise her children right
and my brother prays he'll change
so he won't feel so very strangely out of tune
and i went back the other day
closed my eyes and tried to pray
but a voice spoke loud and clear
"you ask too many questions, dear"
and i said, "you ask too few"
that's why i still don't know quite what to do
on sunday mornings ...
there is someplace that 'm supposed to be
keeps returning
the feeling keeps coming over me
just like music
or like sunlight on a distant memory
sunday morning
sunday morning
my mother choosing what to wear
my father combs his jet black hair
we are their little prizes
in our mary janes and clip on ties
we hurry down the aisle
the neighbors smile because we're
late again
on sunday morning
there is someplace ...
daddy prays because the money's tight
mama prays she'll raise her children right
and my brother prays he'll change
so he won't feel so very strangely out of tune
and i went back the other day
closed my eyes and tried to pray
but a voice spoke loud and clear
"you ask too many questions, dear"
and i said, "you ask too few"
that's why i still don't know quite what to do
on sunday mornings ...
+++++++
However, she is no one-trick musical pony as the following will amply demonstrate:
St. Mary's Of Regret
St. Mary's Of Regret
I'm wearing that dress, I've pulled on those gloves
I put on my veil, we once were in love
We once had it all the entire sky
We threw it away and I wonder why
Passion's always half impossibility
But lovers that we lose we never dare forget
We visit them in mourning in December and in May
In the graveyard of St. Mary's of Regret
The end of the street, the wrought-iron gate
The cobblestone path, the names and the date
The anxious hello, the everyday laugh
The intimate tears, the epitaph
Passion's always half impossibility
But lovers that we lose we never dare forget
We visit them in mourning in December and in May
In the graveyard of St. Mary's of Regret
You're married by now
She's kind I suppose
Does she know what she has?
Does she tell you she knows?
Do you put on the suit?
Do you try on the tie?
Do you walk through that gate?
Do you wonder why?
Passion's always half impossibility
But lovers that we lose we never dare forget
Maybe someday there I'll see you in December or in May
In the graveyard of St. Mary's of Regret
In the graveyard of St. Mary's of Regret
We never dare forget
+++++++
"May I Suggest"
+++++++
"May I Suggest"
May I suggest
May I suggest to you
May I suggest this is the best part of your life
May I suggest
This time is blessed for you
This time is blessed and shining almost blinding bright
Just turn your head
And you'll begin to see
The thousand reasons that were just beyond your sight
The reasons why
Why I suggest to you
Why I suggest this is the best part of your life
There is a world
That's been addressed to you
Addressed to you, intended only for your eyes
A secret world
Like a treasure chest to you
Of private scenes and brilliant dreams that mesmerise
A lover's trusting smile
A tiny baby's hands
The million stars that fill the turning sky at night
Oh I suggest
Oh I suggest to you
Oh I suggest this is the best part of your life
There is a hope
That's been expressed in you
The hope of seven generations, maybe more
And this is the faith
That they invest in you
It's that you'll do one better than was done before
Inside you know
Inside you understand
Inside you know what's yours to finally set right
And I suggest
And I suggest to you
And I suggest this is the best part of your life
This is a song
Comes from the west to you
Comes from the west, comes from the slowly setting sun
With a request
With a request of you
To see how very short the endless days will run
And when they're gone
And when the dark descends
Oh we'd give anything for one more hour of light
And I suggest this is the best part of your life
The lyrics for this gem cannot be found on-line:
Always enjoyed these two songs
"Circles" -- Harvey Reed
I throw a stone into the water and I watch the circles as they grow
While holidays and birthdays leave footprints like soldiers in the snow
The flowers and the icicles are spokes in a wheel that has no end
And the passing of the seasons makes me think about circles again
The sun and the moon, circles tracing circles in the sky
While old people and children look at each other in the mirror in the eye
Like the turning of a waterwheel like the voice of a long lost friend
When I think about my old friends I think about circles again
Round and round and round in circles we spin
Over and over we end up right where we begin
Those things that never change, those things that are never the same
Though it looks like a straight road I'm traveling in circles again
These round coins in my hand there's so much I do that they ask me
What goes around will come around; there are wheels turning night & day right past me
I had a dream long ago I was hiding but a clock always found me
And now everywhere I look I see circles all around me
Another of Reid's more enjoyable songs:
It's a breeze on a summer evening
It's a firefly on a July night
It's an old Chevy truck parked in the drive
It's a big oak tree, it's a love that's alive
It's a song stuck in your mind
It's a child learning nursery rhymes
It's a fiddler's foot on the kitchen floor
It's an old love song you never heard before
CHORUS
It's a freight train whistle in the night
Singing like a mournful dove
It's a boy leaving town without looking back
It's a banjo playing it's a girl I love
It's your momma calling on the phone
It's a dog run away come home
In the bottom of the ninth it's a big home run
It's the love we have, it's the morning sun
I throw a stone into the water and I watch the circles as they grow
While holidays and birthdays leave footprints like soldiers in the snow
The flowers and the icicles are spokes in a wheel that has no end
And the passing of the seasons makes me think about circles again
The sun and the moon, circles tracing circles in the sky
While old people and children look at each other in the mirror in the eye
Like the turning of a waterwheel like the voice of a long lost friend
When I think about my old friends I think about circles again
Round and round and round in circles we spin
Over and over we end up right where we begin
Those things that never change, those things that are never the same
Though it looks like a straight road I'm traveling in circles again
These round coins in my hand there's so much I do that they ask me
What goes around will come around; there are wheels turning night & day right past me
I had a dream long ago I was hiding but a clock always found me
And now everywhere I look I see circles all around me
Another of Reid's more enjoyable songs:
It's a breeze on a summer evening
It's a firefly on a July night
It's an old Chevy truck parked in the drive
It's a big oak tree, it's a love that's alive
It's a song stuck in your mind
It's a child learning nursery rhymes
It's a fiddler's foot on the kitchen floor
It's an old love song you never heard before
CHORUS
It's a freight train whistle in the night
Singing like a mournful dove
It's a boy leaving town without looking back
It's a banjo playing it's a girl I love
It's your momma calling on the phone
It's a dog run away come home
In the bottom of the ninth it's a big home run
It's the love we have, it's the morning sun
Sunday, December 11, 2016
John Rumsey's Top 10 2016
John Rumsey, <mojorum@ORO.NET>
KVMR Nevada City California
"Four Strong Winds"
Alternate Wednesdays 10am to noon
Top 10 2016
1. Paul Sachs "Love is Love" (Paul Sachs)
2. Jed Marum "Callia’s Waltz" (Boston Road Records)
3. C. Daniel Boling "Thee Houses" (Berkalin Records)
4. Jubilant Bridge "A Bell A Bird A Star" (Jubilant Bridge)
5. Barwick & Siegfried "Long Time Gone" (FGM Records)
6. Runa "Live" (Runa)
7. Brother Sun "Weights & Wings" (Brother Sun)
8. The Stray Birds "Magic Fire" (Yeproc)
9. Joan Baez "73rd Birthday" (Razor & Tie)
10. Reid Jamieson "Dear Leonard" (Reid Jamieson)
Lori McKenna - "The Bird and the Rifle"
Lori McKenna's latest release, "The Bird and the Rifle" has received excellent reviews:
"Lori McKenna's 'The Bird & the Rifle' Is Vintage Storytelling"
"Lori McKenna’s Gentle Rue Shimmers on ‘The Bird & the Rifle’"
"Lori McKenna, 'The Bird & The Rifle'"
One song in particular has received a great deal of play, probably due to Tim McGraw recording it a while back. That is "Humble and Kind" -
You know there's a lot that goes by the front door
Don't forget the keys under the mat
Childhood stars shine, always stay humble and kind
Go to church 'cause your momma says to
Visit grandpa every chance that you can
It won't be a waste of time
Always stay humble and kind
Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got mountains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When the dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind
Don't expect a free ride from no one
Don't hold a grudge or a chip and here's why
Bitterness keeps you from flying
Always stay humble and kind
Know the difference between sleeping with someone
And sleeping with someone you love
I love you ain't no pick up line so
Always stay humble and kind
Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got moutains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When those dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind
When it's hot, eat a root beer, a popsicle
Shut off the AC and roll the windows down
Let that summer sun shine
Always stay humble and kind
Don't take for granted the love this life gives you
When you get where you're goin'
Don't forget turn back around
Help the next one in line
Always stay humble and kind
This one is good but "That's How You Know" remains her most effecting song (for me):
When you take the train to midtown
To have coffee by yourself
Pull the pictures from the drawer
Put them back up on the shelf
When you hear the sound of church bells
And they don't make you wanna cry
And you're not getting drunk
Just so you can hide
That's how you know
That's how you know
When you open up the curtains
Start answering the phone
Stop driving around for hours
'Cause you hate going home
When you can talk about it
Even say their name
When you start thinking
You'll survive even though
You'll never be the same
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
There's no such thing
As a long goodbye
When you wish it would've lasted
Your whole life
When you don't need a cigarette
Or a pill to help you sleep
When you don't end every night
On the hard wood on your knees
When you wake up one morning
Surprised to see the world exists
And your eyes ain't full of tears
And your heart ain't full of bitterness
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
When you're thankful
That you ever knew a love this strong
When you finally find
The courage to write this song
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
You're moving on
"Lori McKenna's 'The Bird & the Rifle' Is Vintage Storytelling"
"Lori McKenna’s Gentle Rue Shimmers on ‘The Bird & the Rifle’"
"Lori McKenna, 'The Bird & The Rifle'"
One song in particular has received a great deal of play, probably due to Tim McGraw recording it a while back. That is "Humble and Kind" -
You know there's a lot that goes by the front door
Don't forget the keys under the mat
Childhood stars shine, always stay humble and kind
Go to church 'cause your momma says to
Visit grandpa every chance that you can
It won't be a waste of time
Always stay humble and kind
Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got mountains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When the dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind
Don't expect a free ride from no one
Don't hold a grudge or a chip and here's why
Bitterness keeps you from flying
Always stay humble and kind
Know the difference between sleeping with someone
And sleeping with someone you love
I love you ain't no pick up line so
Always stay humble and kind
Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got moutains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When those dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind
When it's hot, eat a root beer, a popsicle
Shut off the AC and roll the windows down
Let that summer sun shine
Always stay humble and kind
Don't take for granted the love this life gives you
When you get where you're goin'
Don't forget turn back around
Help the next one in line
Always stay humble and kind
This one is good but "That's How You Know" remains her most effecting song (for me):
When you take the train to midtown
To have coffee by yourself
Pull the pictures from the drawer
Put them back up on the shelf
When you hear the sound of church bells
And they don't make you wanna cry
And you're not getting drunk
Just so you can hide
That's how you know
That's how you know
When you open up the curtains
Start answering the phone
Stop driving around for hours
'Cause you hate going home
When you can talk about it
Even say their name
When you start thinking
You'll survive even though
You'll never be the same
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
There's no such thing
As a long goodbye
When you wish it would've lasted
Your whole life
When you don't need a cigarette
Or a pill to help you sleep
When you don't end every night
On the hard wood on your knees
When you wake up one morning
Surprised to see the world exists
And your eyes ain't full of tears
And your heart ain't full of bitterness
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
When you're thankful
That you ever knew a love this strong
When you finally find
The courage to write this song
That's how you know
That's how you know
That's how you know
You're moving on
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Grammy nominations
The Grammy nominations have been annouced:
Best American Roots Performance
Ain't No Man
The Avett Brothers
Track from: True Sadness Label: American Recordings/Republic Records
Mother's Children Have A Hard Time
Blind Boys Of Alabama
Track from: God Don't Never Change: The Songs Of Blind Willie Johnson Label: Alligator Records
Factory Girl
Rhiannon Giddens
Track from: Factory Girl Label: Nonesuch Records Inc.
House Of Mercy
Sarah Jarosz
Track from: Undercurrent Label: Sugar Hill Records
Wreck You
Lori McKenna
Label: CN Records
++++++++++
Best American Roots Song
Alabama At Night
Robbie Fulks, songwriter (Robbie Fulks)
Track from: Upland Stories Label: Bloodshot Records; Publisher(s): Lorne Rall Music
City Lights
Jack White, songwriter (Jack White)
Track from: Jack White Acoustic Recordings 1998 - 2016 Label: Columbia/Third Man Records; Publisher(s): Peppermint Stripe Music
Gulfstream
Eric Adcock & Roddie Romero, songwriters (Roddie Romero And The Hub City All-Stars)
Track from: Gulfstream Label: Octavia Records; Publisher(s): Grand Bayou Music/Roddie Romero Music
Kid Sister
Vince Gill, songwriter (The Time Jumpers)
Track from: Kid Sister Label: Rounder Records; Publisher(s): Vinny Mae Music admin. by Songs of Kobalt Music Publishing
Wreck You
Lori McKenna & Felix McTeigue, songwriters (Lori McKenna)
Label: CN Records; Publisher(s): Melanie Howard Music, Inc./Rusty Muffler Songs admin. by Kobalt Songs Music Publishing
++++++++++
Best Americana Album
True Sadness
The Avett Brothers
Label: American Recordings/Republic Records
This Is Where I Live
William Bell
Label: Stax
The Cedar Creek Sessions
Kris Kristofferson
Label: KK Records, Llc
The Bird & The Rifle
Lori McKenna
Label: CN Records
Kid Sister
The Time Jumpers
Label: Rounder Records
++++++++++
Best Bluegrass Album
Original Traditional
Blue Highway
Label: Rounder Records
Burden Bearer
Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver
Label: Mountain Home Music Company
The Hazel And Alice Sessions
Laurie Lewis & The Right Hands
Label: Spruce And Maple Music
North By South
Claire Lynch
Label: Compass Records
Coming Home
O'Connor Band With Mark O'Connor
Label: Rounder Records
++++++++++
Best Folk Album
Silver Skies Blue
Judy Collins & Ari Hest
Label: Wildflower Records/Cleopatra Record
Upland Stories
Robbie Fulks
Label: Bloodshot Records
Factory Girl
Rhiannon Giddens
Label: Nonesuch Records Inc.
Weighted Mind
Sierra Hull
Label: Rounder Records
Undercurrent
Sarah Jarosz
Label: Sugar Hill Records
++++++++++
Best American Roots Performance
Ain't No Man
The Avett Brothers
Track from: True Sadness Label: American Recordings/Republic Records
Mother's Children Have A Hard Time
Blind Boys Of Alabama
Track from: God Don't Never Change: The Songs Of Blind Willie Johnson Label: Alligator Records
Factory Girl
Rhiannon Giddens
Track from: Factory Girl Label: Nonesuch Records Inc.
House Of Mercy
Sarah Jarosz
Track from: Undercurrent Label: Sugar Hill Records
Wreck You
Lori McKenna
Label: CN Records
++++++++++
Best American Roots Song
Alabama At Night
Robbie Fulks, songwriter (Robbie Fulks)
Track from: Upland Stories Label: Bloodshot Records; Publisher(s): Lorne Rall Music
City Lights
Jack White, songwriter (Jack White)
Track from: Jack White Acoustic Recordings 1998 - 2016 Label: Columbia/Third Man Records; Publisher(s): Peppermint Stripe Music
Gulfstream
Eric Adcock & Roddie Romero, songwriters (Roddie Romero And The Hub City All-Stars)
Track from: Gulfstream Label: Octavia Records; Publisher(s): Grand Bayou Music/Roddie Romero Music
Kid Sister
Vince Gill, songwriter (The Time Jumpers)
Track from: Kid Sister Label: Rounder Records; Publisher(s): Vinny Mae Music admin. by Songs of Kobalt Music Publishing
Wreck You
Lori McKenna & Felix McTeigue, songwriters (Lori McKenna)
Label: CN Records; Publisher(s): Melanie Howard Music, Inc./Rusty Muffler Songs admin. by Kobalt Songs Music Publishing
++++++++++
Best Americana Album
True Sadness
The Avett Brothers
Label: American Recordings/Republic Records
This Is Where I Live
William Bell
Label: Stax
The Cedar Creek Sessions
Kris Kristofferson
Label: KK Records, Llc
The Bird & The Rifle
Lori McKenna
Label: CN Records
Kid Sister
The Time Jumpers
Label: Rounder Records
++++++++++
Best Bluegrass Album
Original Traditional
Blue Highway
Label: Rounder Records
Burden Bearer
Doyle Lawson & Quicksilver
Label: Mountain Home Music Company
The Hazel And Alice Sessions
Laurie Lewis & The Right Hands
Label: Spruce And Maple Music
North By South
Claire Lynch
Label: Compass Records
Coming Home
O'Connor Band With Mark O'Connor
Label: Rounder Records
++++++++++
Best Folk Album
Silver Skies Blue
Judy Collins & Ari Hest
Label: Wildflower Records/Cleopatra Record
Upland Stories
Robbie Fulks
Label: Bloodshot Records
Factory Girl
Rhiannon Giddens
Label: Nonesuch Records Inc.
Weighted Mind
Sierra Hull
Label: Rounder Records
Undercurrent
Sarah Jarosz
Label: Sugar Hill Records
++++++++++
Monday, December 5, 2016
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Friday, November 18, 2016
The writing here is extraordinary
"Obituary: Leonard Cohen died on November 7th" -- The Economist
It begins: "HE HAD little to bring, Leonard Cohen said. He worked with what he’d got. Simple chords on his guitar, which he wished he could play better. A finger or two on a keyboard. His “golden voice”, a wry joke (for yes, he often joked, when he could raise his brooding eyes out of his despair). He was a singer in the lesser choirs, ordained to raise his voice so high and no higher; though certainly low and, after decades of Marlboro Lights, yet lower..."
It begins: "HE HAD little to bring, Leonard Cohen said. He worked with what he’d got. Simple chords on his guitar, which he wished he could play better. A finger or two on a keyboard. His “golden voice”, a wry joke (for yes, he often joked, when he could raise his brooding eyes out of his despair). He was a singer in the lesser choirs, ordained to raise his voice so high and no higher; though certainly low and, after decades of Marlboro Lights, yet lower..."
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Do get and read Garnet Rogers' book
"Folk Great Garnet Roger's Special Book Release Concert Tour Plays Phoenicia on Friday 11/18/2016"
About 50 pages in to "Night Drive:Travels With My Brother" and it's a hoot. Dry, deprecating and informative.
"Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be folksingers" would be the appropriate musical accompaniment.
About 50 pages in to "Night Drive:Travels With My Brother" and it's a hoot. Dry, deprecating and informative.
"Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be folksingers" would be the appropriate musical accompaniment.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
In memory of Leonard Cohen
"Leonard Cohen Dead at 82" -- Richard Gehr
"Leonard Cohen – he knew things about life, and if you listened you could learn" -- Dorian Lynskey
"Leonard Cohen Was the Light That Got In" -- Rob Harvilla
"Leonard Cohen wrote the perfect anthem for our times" -- Cory Doctorow
"Leonard Cohen Makes It Darker" -- David Remnick
"Leonard Cohen – he knew things about life, and if you listened you could learn" -- Dorian Lynskey
"Leonard Cohen Was the Light That Got In" -- Rob Harvilla
"Leonard Cohen wrote the perfect anthem for our times" -- Cory Doctorow
"Leonard Cohen Makes It Darker" -- David Remnick
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Josh Ritter - "The Curse"
Josh Ritter - "The Curse" -- Jim Beveglia
Beveglia provides his interpretation of this intriguing, beguiling song.
He opens his eyes falls in love at first sight
With the girl in the doorway
What beautiful lines and how full of life
After thousands of years what a face to wake up to
He holds back a sigh as she touches his arm
She dusts off the bed where 'til now he's been sleeping
And under miles of stone, the dried fig of his heart
Under scarab and bone starts back to its beating
She carries him home in a beautiful boat
He watches the sea from a porthole in stowage
He can hear all she says as she sits by his bed
And one day his lips answer her in her own language
The days quickly pass he loves making her laugh
The first time he moves it's her hair that he touches
She asks, “Are you cursed?” He says, “I think that I'm cured”
Then he talks of the Nile and the girls in bulrushes
In New York he is laid in a glass covered case
He pretends he is dead people crowd round to see him
But each night she comes round and the two wander down
The halls of the tomb that she calls a museum
Often he stops to rest but then less and less
Then it's her that looks tired staying up asking questions
He learns how to read from the papers that she
Is writing about him and he makes corrections
It's his face on her book more and more come to look
Families from Iowa, upper west siders
Then one day it's too much he decides to get up
And as chaos ensues he walks outside to find her
She's using a cane and her face looks too pale
But she's happy to see him as they walk he supports her
She asks, “Are you cursed?” but his answer's obscured
In a sandstorm of flashbulbs and rowdy reporters
Such reanimation the two tour the nation
He gets out of limos he meets other women
He speaks of her fondly their nights in the museum
But she's just one more rag now he's dragging behind him
She stops going out she just lies there in bed
In hotels in whatever towns they are speaking
Then her face starts to set and her hands start to fold
And one day the dried fig of her heart stops its beating
Long ago on the ship she asked, “Why pyramids?”
He said, “Think of them as an immense invitation”
She asked, “Are you cursed?” He said, “I think that I'm cured”
Then he kissed her and hoped that she'd forget that question
Beveglia provides his interpretation of this intriguing, beguiling song.
He opens his eyes falls in love at first sight
With the girl in the doorway
What beautiful lines and how full of life
After thousands of years what a face to wake up to
He holds back a sigh as she touches his arm
She dusts off the bed where 'til now he's been sleeping
And under miles of stone, the dried fig of his heart
Under scarab and bone starts back to its beating
She carries him home in a beautiful boat
He watches the sea from a porthole in stowage
He can hear all she says as she sits by his bed
And one day his lips answer her in her own language
The days quickly pass he loves making her laugh
The first time he moves it's her hair that he touches
She asks, “Are you cursed?” He says, “I think that I'm cured”
Then he talks of the Nile and the girls in bulrushes
In New York he is laid in a glass covered case
He pretends he is dead people crowd round to see him
But each night she comes round and the two wander down
The halls of the tomb that she calls a museum
Often he stops to rest but then less and less
Then it's her that looks tired staying up asking questions
He learns how to read from the papers that she
Is writing about him and he makes corrections
It's his face on her book more and more come to look
Families from Iowa, upper west siders
Then one day it's too much he decides to get up
And as chaos ensues he walks outside to find her
She's using a cane and her face looks too pale
But she's happy to see him as they walk he supports her
She asks, “Are you cursed?” but his answer's obscured
In a sandstorm of flashbulbs and rowdy reporters
Such reanimation the two tour the nation
He gets out of limos he meets other women
He speaks of her fondly their nights in the museum
But she's just one more rag now he's dragging behind him
She stops going out she just lies there in bed
In hotels in whatever towns they are speaking
Then her face starts to set and her hands start to fold
And one day the dried fig of her heart stops its beating
Long ago on the ship she asked, “Why pyramids?”
He said, “Think of them as an immense invitation”
She asked, “Are you cursed?” He said, “I think that I'm cured”
Then he kissed her and hoped that she'd forget that question
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Gretchen Peters - "Five Minutes"
Sometimes it's a couple of lines or more of a song's lyrics that zing the listener into an altered state of consciousness. It's not necessarily that the remainder of the lyrics pale in comparison but more the combination of words simply being so virginal and literate.
Such as this opening of a Gretchen Peters song:
"I've got five minutes to sneak a cigarette
Five minutes to myself
Back behind the screen door of Andy's luncheonette
And I ain't got time to worry 'bout my health
My boss Andy says I smoke myself to death
Andy he reminds me some of you
Back when you were Romeo and I was Juliet
West Texas Capulet and Montague..."
Now did anyone see (hear?) that coming? A Shakespeare reference?
+++++++
I've got five minutes to sneak a cigarette
Five minutes to myself
Back behind the screen door of Andy's luncheonette
And I ain't got time to worry 'bout my health
My boss Andy says I smoke myself to death
Andy he reminds me some of you
Back when you were Romeo and I was Juliet
West Texas Capulet and Montague
Now I don't think too much about you anymore
We weren't much more than kids
It was nearly twenty years ago I shut and locked that door
Now I've got five minutes
Not much time to reminisce
Most nights I come home from work and I pour a glass of wine
Sometimes it's three or four before I stop
And Jessie makes a sandwich if I sleep through suppertime
And she leaves me on the couch to sleep it off
Now Jessie just turned 17 and she's wild as she can be
And there ain't nothin' I can do
Last weekend she ran off to meet a boy in Tennessee
Just like I used to run to you
I gave her hell when she came home this afternoon
Mascara runnin' down her face
Seems like history repeats itself, and it ain't up to you
And in five minutes
Your whole life can change
Andy he's good to me, and I can see it in his eyes
He'd love to take your place
But somethin' deep inside me just withers up and dies
To make love to him and only see your face
Somehow I've let myself go gently down the stream
A fine example I have set
Between the working and the livin' and the ghosts that haunt my dreams
I've got five minutes and I'm gonna smoke this cigarette
Such as this opening of a Gretchen Peters song:
"I've got five minutes to sneak a cigarette
Five minutes to myself
Back behind the screen door of Andy's luncheonette
And I ain't got time to worry 'bout my health
My boss Andy says I smoke myself to death
Andy he reminds me some of you
Back when you were Romeo and I was Juliet
West Texas Capulet and Montague..."
Now did anyone see (hear?) that coming? A Shakespeare reference?
+++++++
I've got five minutes to sneak a cigarette
Five minutes to myself
Back behind the screen door of Andy's luncheonette
And I ain't got time to worry 'bout my health
My boss Andy says I smoke myself to death
Andy he reminds me some of you
Back when you were Romeo and I was Juliet
West Texas Capulet and Montague
Now I don't think too much about you anymore
We weren't much more than kids
It was nearly twenty years ago I shut and locked that door
Now I've got five minutes
Not much time to reminisce
Most nights I come home from work and I pour a glass of wine
Sometimes it's three or four before I stop
And Jessie makes a sandwich if I sleep through suppertime
And she leaves me on the couch to sleep it off
Now Jessie just turned 17 and she's wild as she can be
And there ain't nothin' I can do
Last weekend she ran off to meet a boy in Tennessee
Just like I used to run to you
I gave her hell when she came home this afternoon
Mascara runnin' down her face
Seems like history repeats itself, and it ain't up to you
And in five minutes
Your whole life can change
Andy he's good to me, and I can see it in his eyes
He'd love to take your place
But somethin' deep inside me just withers up and dies
To make love to him and only see your face
Somehow I've let myself go gently down the stream
A fine example I have set
Between the working and the livin' and the ghosts that haunt my dreams
I've got five minutes and I'm gonna smoke this cigarette
Garnet Rogers - "Summer's End I"
For all his hulking and imposing self, Garnet Rogers is a softie and we are all the better for that. He has created a myriad of songs sustaining this statement and one of those is "Summer's End I."
This night is still and quiet
Summer's almost past.
There's a cricket with a socket wrench
In the dry and dusty grass.
Above our heads a breath of wind
Is rattling the leaves.
The last swallows of the season
Have fled their nests beneath the eaves.
And you and I we sit together
In the dark beneath the trees.
I move my chair close to yours
As we sit and drink our tea.
We talk together in the quiet
And try to reckon up the cost.
And bind our wounds and count the scars
From all that we have lost.
And the days they hurry by.
Running on together.
Until you can't recall a time before sorrow touched your heart
And left its mark on you forever.
So maybe somewhere precious rain falls
On a parched and barren earth
Maybe somewhere in a house filled with love
There's a mother giving birth.
A small child's fever breaks.
Parents breathe a prayer and sigh.
And a soul somewhere in deep despair
Lifts his eyes unto the sky.
And I look into the heavens
And I stare into the black
And I laugh at those who say God shapes the load to fit your back.
There's no Golden Throne beyond the Veil.
No angel choirs above.
And Hell is just outliving everyone you've known and loved.
And all of those who we have loved and lost from near and far
They've left us here to carry on
Beneath cold indifferent stars.
And the days they hurry by…
And so for now we muddle on.
I guess that is the way.
And try to look a little further down the road
And not just day to day
I know you'll look out for me
As I look out for you.
And we'll live in hope for better days.
It's the best that we can do.
And the days…
This night is still and quiet
Summer's almost past.
There's a cricket with a socket wrench
In the dry and dusty grass.
Above our heads a breath of wind
Is rattling the leaves.
The last swallows of the season
Have fled their nests beneath the eaves.
And you and I we sit together
In the dark beneath the trees.
I move my chair close to yours
As we sit and drink our tea.
We talk together in the quiet
And try to reckon up the cost.
And bind our wounds and count the scars
From all that we have lost.
And the days they hurry by.
Running on together.
Until you can't recall a time before sorrow touched your heart
And left its mark on you forever.
So maybe somewhere precious rain falls
On a parched and barren earth
Maybe somewhere in a house filled with love
There's a mother giving birth.
A small child's fever breaks.
Parents breathe a prayer and sigh.
And a soul somewhere in deep despair
Lifts his eyes unto the sky.
And I look into the heavens
And I stare into the black
And I laugh at those who say God shapes the load to fit your back.
There's no Golden Throne beyond the Veil.
No angel choirs above.
And Hell is just outliving everyone you've known and loved.
And all of those who we have loved and lost from near and far
They've left us here to carry on
Beneath cold indifferent stars.
And the days they hurry by…
And so for now we muddle on.
I guess that is the way.
And try to look a little further down the road
And not just day to day
I know you'll look out for me
As I look out for you.
And we'll live in hope for better days.
It's the best that we can do.
And the days…
Danny Schmidt - "Two Timing Bank Robber's Lament"
Sometimes it's a couple of lines or more of a song's lyrics that zing the listener into an altered state of consciousness. It's not necessarily that the remainder of the lyrics pale in comparison but more the combination of words simply being so virginal and literate.
Such as this from a Danny Schmidt song:
"A carnation on my collar and diamonds on my cuff
Gonna wine and dine my baby cause sometimes whinin’ ain’t enough
But let me tell you friends about the recipe for pain . . .
It’s a splash of fresh magnificence with a hint of old disdain..."
That last line is just perfect and so fresh. The combination of lyrics and the jazzy music just fit so well.
TWO TIMING BANK ROBBER'S LAMENT
She had eyes like dirty emeralds and hair like melted gold
And a taste for silver dollars, or so I’m told
She said: “There’s things a lover needs or else a lover comes undone.”
But she’s got a walk that leaves me wonderin’ am I still the only one?
I ain’t got the means, ain’t got the money
Thank god the church closed the banks on Sunday
Cause I’ve got two strong shoulders and this old rock hammer
Puttin’ two and two, and two and two, and two and two together
Refrain:
Singin’: “Hey now, what can you do?
Oh hey now, what can you do?
Oh hey now, hey now, what can you do?”
You went off happily ever after
Sadly all I was ever after’s you
A carnation on my collar and diamonds on my cuff
Gonna wine and dine my baby cause sometimes whinin’ ain’t enough
But let me tell you friends about the recipe for pain . . .
It’s a splash of fresh magnificence with a hint of old disdain
She said: “What you doin’ baby? You’re dressed up like a clown.
Looks like a touch of class done kicked your ass and thrown you to the ground.
Believe me, it’s so easy to see whose dues are paid . . .
New money smells like vinyl. Honey, old money smells like suede.”
Refrain
I said: “Why you talkin’ crazy, baby? I bought these things for you.”
She said: “You’re throwin’ round your money like you just robbed a bank or two.”
I said: “Maybe I’ve been workin’ hard and maybe had some luck
And maybe we should go before the maitre d' hears us.”
So I stood up in a fluster and I went upfront to pay
She went back to the powder room to powder up her face
And I guess she found the telephone and I guess she found the time
Cause while I picked up the dinner check, sweet honey dropped the dime
Refrain
I heard the sirens comin’ and I was out the door
Back to put the money where the money was before
I made it to the bank and I made it through the wall
But I kicked a brick behind me and I heard the tunnel fall
So here I am and here I sit and here is where I’ll be
Trapped inside the bank vault til the police rescue me
And take me to the big house where there ain’t no girls like you
And where the boys all tell you what they want and that’s all you’ve gotta do
Refrain
Such as this from a Danny Schmidt song:
"A carnation on my collar and diamonds on my cuff
Gonna wine and dine my baby cause sometimes whinin’ ain’t enough
But let me tell you friends about the recipe for pain . . .
It’s a splash of fresh magnificence with a hint of old disdain..."
That last line is just perfect and so fresh. The combination of lyrics and the jazzy music just fit so well.
TWO TIMING BANK ROBBER'S LAMENT
She had eyes like dirty emeralds and hair like melted gold
And a taste for silver dollars, or so I’m told
She said: “There’s things a lover needs or else a lover comes undone.”
But she’s got a walk that leaves me wonderin’ am I still the only one?
I ain’t got the means, ain’t got the money
Thank god the church closed the banks on Sunday
Cause I’ve got two strong shoulders and this old rock hammer
Puttin’ two and two, and two and two, and two and two together
Refrain:
Singin’: “Hey now, what can you do?
Oh hey now, what can you do?
Oh hey now, hey now, what can you do?”
You went off happily ever after
Sadly all I was ever after’s you
A carnation on my collar and diamonds on my cuff
Gonna wine and dine my baby cause sometimes whinin’ ain’t enough
But let me tell you friends about the recipe for pain . . .
It’s a splash of fresh magnificence with a hint of old disdain
She said: “What you doin’ baby? You’re dressed up like a clown.
Looks like a touch of class done kicked your ass and thrown you to the ground.
Believe me, it’s so easy to see whose dues are paid . . .
New money smells like vinyl. Honey, old money smells like suede.”
Refrain
I said: “Why you talkin’ crazy, baby? I bought these things for you.”
She said: “You’re throwin’ round your money like you just robbed a bank or two.”
I said: “Maybe I’ve been workin’ hard and maybe had some luck
And maybe we should go before the maitre d' hears us.”
So I stood up in a fluster and I went upfront to pay
She went back to the powder room to powder up her face
And I guess she found the telephone and I guess she found the time
Cause while I picked up the dinner check, sweet honey dropped the dime
Refrain
I heard the sirens comin’ and I was out the door
Back to put the money where the money was before
I made it to the bank and I made it through the wall
But I kicked a brick behind me and I heard the tunnel fall
So here I am and here I sit and here is where I’ll be
Trapped inside the bank vault til the police rescue me
And take me to the big house where there ain’t no girls like you
And where the boys all tell you what they want and that’s all you’ve gotta do
Refrain
Thursday, October 13, 2016
Pretty good for a song and dance man
"Bob Dylan deserves the Nobel Prize: He brought sophistication to the language of popular music like no one else" -- Scott Timberg
"7 literary Bob Dylan songs, in honor of his Nobel win" -- Maeve McDermott
"100 Greatest Bob Dylan Songs" (which also includes video of each)
"7 literary Bob Dylan songs, in honor of his Nobel win" -- Maeve McDermott
"100 Greatest Bob Dylan Songs" (which also includes video of each)
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Oscar Brand passes
"RIP Oscar Brand, Who Was Way More Than a Folk Music Footnote" -- David Hinckley
It opens with: "If most deaths are like losing a page or a chapter, Oscar Brand’s death Friday was like losing a book..."
It opens with: "If most deaths are like losing a page or a chapter, Oscar Brand’s death Friday was like losing a book..."
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Michael Johnathon "The Dream" jacket art
Michael Johnathon writes about his latest release "The Dream," primarily about his choices for the inside jacket art and the feedback he received about those choices.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Harvest songs
Heard these 'harvesting' songs on Jeff Emery's KZSC show today -- quite different in style and approach but both enjoyable.
They were hiding behind hay bales,
They were planting in the full moon
They had given all they had for something new
But the light of day was on them,
They could see the thrashers coming
And the water shone like diamonds in the dew.
And I was just getting up, hit the road before it's light
Trying to catch an hour on the sun
When I saw those thrashers rolling by,
Looking more than two lanes wide
I was feelin' like my day had just begun.
Where the eagle glides descending
There's an ancient river bending
Through the timeless gorge of changes
Where sleeplessness awaits
I searched out my companions,
Who were lost in crystal canyons
When the aimless blade of science
Slashed the pearly gates.
It was then I knew I'd had enough,
Burned my credit card for fuel
Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand
With a one-way ticket to the land of truth
And my suitcase in my hand
How I lost my friends I still don't understand.
They had the best selection,
They were poisoned with protection
There was nothing that they needed,
Nothing left to find
They were lost in rock formations
Or became park bench mutations
On the sidewalks and in the stations
They were waiting, waiting.
So I got bored and left them there,
They were just deadweight to me
Better down the road without that load
Brings back the time when I was eight or nine
I was watchin' my mama's T.V.,
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode.
Where the vulture glides descending
On an asphalt highway bending
Thru libraries and museums, galaxies and stars
Down the windy halls of friendship
To the rose clipped by the bullwhip
The motel of lost companions
Waits with heated pool and bar.
But me I'm not stopping there,
Got my own row left to hoe
Just another line in the field of time
When the thrasher comes, I'll be stuck in the sun
Like the dinosaurs in shrines
But I'll know the time has come
To give what's mine
and
They were hiding behind hay bales,
They were planting in the full moon
They had given all they had for something new
But the light of day was on them,
They could see the thrashers coming
And the water shone like diamonds in the dew.
And I was just getting up, hit the road before it's light
Trying to catch an hour on the sun
When I saw those thrashers rolling by,
Looking more than two lanes wide
I was feelin' like my day had just begun.
Where the eagle glides descending
There's an ancient river bending
Through the timeless gorge of changes
Where sleeplessness awaits
I searched out my companions,
Who were lost in crystal canyons
When the aimless blade of science
Slashed the pearly gates.
It was then I knew I'd had enough,
Burned my credit card for fuel
Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand
With a one-way ticket to the land of truth
And my suitcase in my hand
How I lost my friends I still don't understand.
They had the best selection,
They were poisoned with protection
There was nothing that they needed,
Nothing left to find
They were lost in rock formations
Or became park bench mutations
On the sidewalks and in the stations
They were waiting, waiting.
So I got bored and left them there,
They were just deadweight to me
Better down the road without that load
Brings back the time when I was eight or nine
I was watchin' my mama's T.V.,
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode.
Where the vulture glides descending
On an asphalt highway bending
Thru libraries and museums, galaxies and stars
Down the windy halls of friendship
To the rose clipped by the bullwhip
The motel of lost companions
Waits with heated pool and bar.
But me I'm not stopping there,
Got my own row left to hoe
Just another line in the field of time
When the thrasher comes, I'll be stuck in the sun
Like the dinosaurs in shrines
But I'll know the time has come
To give what's mine
and
New Kevin Roth release
"...One evening in 2015, around ten thirty at night, Kevin’s cell phone rang. It was Noel (Paul Stookey) driving home from a concert. He had been listening to the early demos from ‘Awakenings’ and, although previously recorded, Stookey suggested that the songs deserved re-recording with a more ‘supportive ambiance’.
He also convinced Kevin that he should write additional material for the new album which became titled most appropriately: ‘Reawakening’. “I wasn’t overly eager truth to tell, but something said, ‘give it a try’. I was simply amazed at the amount of new material that flowed out of me that seemed almost channeled. The songs emerged from deep reflection, meditation and a new awareness that began to unfold that quite honestly I didn’t think I was prepared for. But as the saying goes, when the student is ready, the teacher shows up!”
Here's a link to the songs:
Here's Roth's bio.
Ranked in order and with video clips of each
"The 14 Best Anaïs Mitchell Songs" -- Monica Hunter-Hart
Friday, September 16, 2016
Three of Springsteen's folkie songs lauded
Three of Bruce Springsteen's folkie songs -- "Nebraska" and "The River" and "The Ghost of Tom Joad"-- received very high rankings in Caryn Rose's "All 314 Bruce Springsteen Songs, Ranked From Worst to Best."
Each appears early on:
9. "The River," The River. There are so many reasons why this is one of Springsteen's best compositions. The title seems so simple and direct, except that the nature of the river changes from verse to verse. It's a device of escape, of purification, of redemption, of solace. The first time I heard this song in Europe, the rapt applause made me remember that this is a story as old as time, as old as dirt, as old as humankind. It was an awe-inspiring, unifying moment. Instrumentally, the track is unparalleled. The harmonica opens the track, keening like a train whistle high in the distance. It's accompanied by an elegant 12-string guitar, the dueling melodies on organ and piano, and the barely controlled emotion lurking behind Springsteen's voice. The fact that he based "The River" on his sister's life is actually the least interesting thing about it.
10. "Atlantic City," Nebraska. "Atlantic City" immediately drags you to the action: "Well, they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night." Boom! You're there. The fading glory and distant memories of Atlantic City are right in Springsteen's wheelhouse, and he knocked this one out of the park. "I wanted the music to feel like a waking dream and the record to move like poetry," he wrote of Nebraska in Songs. He absolutely succeeded. Bonus points for the best video he ever made.
15. "The Ghost of Tom Joad," The Ghost of Tom Joad. Springsteen sings with a quiet, solemn conviction that makes you feel like he's telling a story he saw with his own eyes. It's written like a movie, each verse cutting to another scene: current events, snapshots of the past, and parts that could be a mixture of both. The electric version that Springsteen recorded with Tom Morello for High Hopes maintains the core elements of majesty and solemnity from the original, turned up to 11.
Each appears early on:
9. "The River," The River. There are so many reasons why this is one of Springsteen's best compositions. The title seems so simple and direct, except that the nature of the river changes from verse to verse. It's a device of escape, of purification, of redemption, of solace. The first time I heard this song in Europe, the rapt applause made me remember that this is a story as old as time, as old as dirt, as old as humankind. It was an awe-inspiring, unifying moment. Instrumentally, the track is unparalleled. The harmonica opens the track, keening like a train whistle high in the distance. It's accompanied by an elegant 12-string guitar, the dueling melodies on organ and piano, and the barely controlled emotion lurking behind Springsteen's voice. The fact that he based "The River" on his sister's life is actually the least interesting thing about it.
10. "Atlantic City," Nebraska. "Atlantic City" immediately drags you to the action: "Well, they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night." Boom! You're there. The fading glory and distant memories of Atlantic City are right in Springsteen's wheelhouse, and he knocked this one out of the park. "I wanted the music to feel like a waking dream and the record to move like poetry," he wrote of Nebraska in Songs. He absolutely succeeded. Bonus points for the best video he ever made.
15. "The Ghost of Tom Joad," The Ghost of Tom Joad. Springsteen sings with a quiet, solemn conviction that makes you feel like he's telling a story he saw with his own eyes. It's written like a movie, each verse cutting to another scene: current events, snapshots of the past, and parts that could be a mixture of both. The electric version that Springsteen recorded with Tom Morello for High Hopes maintains the core elements of majesty and solemnity from the original, turned up to 11.
Friday, September 9, 2016
"The Traveling Kind"
Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell with a moving and literate tribute to artistic creation.
"We don't all die young to save our spark
From the ravages of time
But the first and last to leave their mark
Someday become the traveling kind
In the wind are names of poets past
Some were friends of yours and mine
And to those unsung, we lift our glass
May their songs become the traveling kind
We were born to brave this tilted world
With our hearts laid on the line
Be it way-crossed boy or red dirt girl
The song becomes the traveling kind
There are mountains worth their weight in gold
Mere mortals dare not climb
Come ye gypsy, sainted, sinners both
And claim them for the traveling kind
When the music slowly starts to fade
Into the light's last soft decline
Let us lie down in that evening shade
And rest among the traveling kind
And the song goes on for the traveling kind"
Written by Cory R. Chisel, Emmylou Harris, Rodney J. Crowell
"We don't all die young to save our spark
From the ravages of time
But the first and last to leave their mark
Someday become the traveling kind
In the wind are names of poets past
Some were friends of yours and mine
And to those unsung, we lift our glass
May their songs become the traveling kind
We were born to brave this tilted world
With our hearts laid on the line
Be it way-crossed boy or red dirt girl
The song becomes the traveling kind
There are mountains worth their weight in gold
Mere mortals dare not climb
Come ye gypsy, sainted, sinners both
And claim them for the traveling kind
When the music slowly starts to fade
Into the light's last soft decline
Let us lie down in that evening shade
And rest among the traveling kind
And the song goes on for the traveling kind"
Written by Cory R. Chisel, Emmylou Harris, Rodney J. Crowell
"Firestorm"
The menace here flows vividly from a untethered past to a just barely under the surface present as the lead here struggles to maintain self control. But then his life unravels when the metamorphosis of his life is harmed.
FIRESTORM
Refrain:
I ain’t like that anymore
I don’t kick off like before
I’m more relaxed, I’m all reformed
I ain’t a firestorm
I played a show in Club Delaney
Long, but still they would not pay me
They said times were tough and I said tough times just abound
They said it’s all misunderstanding
And I should not be so demanding
In the old days I’d have burned the bastards down
Refrain
I made my way from Spain to France
A naked sort of paper dance
There were stamps to beg for and palms demanding grease
They said there’s nothing they could do
They said there’s tricks that get you through
Was a time I would have nailed those palms to trees
Refrain
Cause now you’ve turned my eyes to see
A wider view, a kinder scene
I used to blame the forest for the trees
But you hold my hand and step me back
A love that lights a charcoal past
A trail of ash and burned down memories
Bridge:
I used to flap my tongue like fists of flint against the granite fools
Until sparks blazed in my eyes, it’s true
But now I’m done with that, I haven’t
Torched the woods to kill one rabbit
Not for years, not until they came and fucked with you
I’m still like that some I know
There’s still kindling in my soul
It burns quiet, it burns slow
Until a firestorm explodes
FIRESTORM
Refrain:
I ain’t like that anymore
I don’t kick off like before
I’m more relaxed, I’m all reformed
I ain’t a firestorm
I played a show in Club Delaney
Long, but still they would not pay me
They said times were tough and I said tough times just abound
They said it’s all misunderstanding
And I should not be so demanding
In the old days I’d have burned the bastards down
Refrain
I made my way from Spain to France
A naked sort of paper dance
There were stamps to beg for and palms demanding grease
They said there’s nothing they could do
They said there’s tricks that get you through
Was a time I would have nailed those palms to trees
Refrain
Cause now you’ve turned my eyes to see
A wider view, a kinder scene
I used to blame the forest for the trees
But you hold my hand and step me back
A love that lights a charcoal past
A trail of ash and burned down memories
Bridge:
I used to flap my tongue like fists of flint against the granite fools
Until sparks blazed in my eyes, it’s true
But now I’m done with that, I haven’t
Torched the woods to kill one rabbit
Not for years, not until they came and fucked with you
I’m still like that some I know
There’s still kindling in my soul
It burns quiet, it burns slow
Until a firestorm explodes
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
"Ignorance Is The Enemy"
Ignorance is the enemy, whether willful or organic. Love the arc of Rodney Crowell's lyrics here.
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our time of fear
Grant us the wisdom
Your message for to hear
Send down Your angel band
To fill Your hearts with power
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our darkest hour
Ignorance is the enemy
And it fills your head with lies
It's the kind of bliss that can make you miss
The very truth before your eyes
It's not who's right or wrong
Weak or strong, black or white you see
Ignorance is the enemy
And it's keeping you from me
Forgive me all my pettiness
Forgive me all my greed
Forgive me for I know not how
To live this life I lead
Ignorance is the enemy
Let's set the record straight
If history must repeat itself
Why worry while you wait
It's a perfect blue and beautiful world
You treat with such disdain
Ignorance is the enemy
And It can only bring you pain
Forgive me all my vanity
Forgive me my conceit
Forgive me when I'm crawling
Like a beggar at Your feet
Ignorance is the enemy
And it wields a mighty sword
It can cut you down in a blaze of glory
It can nail you to a board
If mercy and compassion only had a chance
It could fill these holes we've dug
But ignorance is the enemy
And it's working like a drug
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our time of fear
Grant us the wisdom
Your message for to hear
Send down Your angel band
To fill our hearts with power
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our darkest hour
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our time of fear
Grant us the wisdom
Your message for to hear
Send down Your angel band
To fill Your hearts with power
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our darkest hour
Ignorance is the enemy
And it fills your head with lies
It's the kind of bliss that can make you miss
The very truth before your eyes
It's not who's right or wrong
Weak or strong, black or white you see
Ignorance is the enemy
And it's keeping you from me
Forgive me all my pettiness
Forgive me all my greed
Forgive me for I know not how
To live this life I lead
Ignorance is the enemy
Let's set the record straight
If history must repeat itself
Why worry while you wait
It's a perfect blue and beautiful world
You treat with such disdain
Ignorance is the enemy
And It can only bring you pain
Forgive me all my vanity
Forgive me my conceit
Forgive me when I'm crawling
Like a beggar at Your feet
Ignorance is the enemy
And it wields a mighty sword
It can cut you down in a blaze of glory
It can nail you to a board
If mercy and compassion only had a chance
It could fill these holes we've dug
But ignorance is the enemy
And it's working like a drug
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our time of fear
Grant us the wisdom
Your message for to hear
Send down Your angel band
To fill our hearts with power
Oh Mother, oh Father
In our darkest hour
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Dave Gunning's "Sing It Louder"
A newish protest song from Dave Gunning, one many will find inspiring.
"...Another song, “Sing It Louder,” is actually a tribute to Seeger. “My goal was to write a song you could imagine him singing,” says Gunning. “As folk singers we should all aspire to carry the torch of Pete Seeger and his message of social justice...”
Here's a review of the "Lift" release which contains "Sing It Louder"
Wonderful new song -- Michael Howard's "She Holds On"
Love the lyrics of "She Holds On" -- Michael Howard has a way with words.
Here's a Jeff Burger review of Michael Howard's new CD "Gasoline Dream" featuring "She Holds On"
"She had heart despite the townsfolk, she had heart despite the town
And she holds on until the holiness departs
Found her brother for the winter, took the money to his home
There was hardly fitting music for the scene
He took a fall in London, now there’s no way to get around
And he lives off of the demons of the mind
And she holds on until the holiness departs
She went back to her working, publishing a magazine
The snowstorm stirring up a fantastic hell
The whiskey in her mug took to the brim and she is impotent
She drank with ragged shadows of herself
And she holds on until the holiness departs
She holds on ‘till the holiness departs
The devil’s kiss was dimly lit when it finally arrived
A dark and hundred miles overground
The spring was spitting hard when it came down from the mount
And said that winter is followed by god. By god.
She fell into mohair sweaters, swinging coats in a blinding rage
Ripping branches, thudding trees like cannonballs
She is stranded in her tower, a screaming cinderella
And her voice could light a candle in the stars
She holds on until the holiness departs
She holds on till the holiness departs
She holds on until the holiness departs
She had heart despite the townsfolk, she had heart despite the town
And she holds on until the holiness departs"
Here's a Jeff Burger review of Michael Howard's new CD "Gasoline Dream" featuring "She Holds On"
"She had heart despite the townsfolk, she had heart despite the town
And she holds on until the holiness departs
Found her brother for the winter, took the money to his home
There was hardly fitting music for the scene
He took a fall in London, now there’s no way to get around
And he lives off of the demons of the mind
And she holds on until the holiness departs
She went back to her working, publishing a magazine
The snowstorm stirring up a fantastic hell
The whiskey in her mug took to the brim and she is impotent
She drank with ragged shadows of herself
And she holds on until the holiness departs
She holds on ‘till the holiness departs
The devil’s kiss was dimly lit when it finally arrived
A dark and hundred miles overground
The spring was spitting hard when it came down from the mount
And said that winter is followed by god. By god.
She fell into mohair sweaters, swinging coats in a blinding rage
Ripping branches, thudding trees like cannonballs
She is stranded in her tower, a screaming cinderella
And her voice could light a candle in the stars
She holds on until the holiness departs
She holds on till the holiness departs
She holds on until the holiness departs
She had heart despite the townsfolk, she had heart despite the town
And she holds on until the holiness departs"
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Book review by Mike Regenstreif
Garnet Rogers has a book out on his musical travels with his brother.
Monday, August 8, 2016
Notes from Dave Carter's final songwriting class
"Dave Carter’s Final Class" -- Paul Zollo
Anyone who created such lines as...
"Well twenty years later he's headed south
the close-range victim of her sawed-off mouth"
"shootin fools and starry gazers, wizard hip and button-down
i walk the occam's razor way through priests and circus clowns
am i a visioner of faith or grace or vision or
another grinning prisoner in happytown
"as the sun is to the city
in the endless weeping winter
so is joy to me, and pity
when he leaves me, falsely tender"
"as a woman of heart and lenience
i make liberal with my pardons
i am generous with kindness
he, with smiles and exultations
though he binds his wounds in silence"
"This is an ordinary town and the prophet stands apart
This is an ordinary town and we brook no wayward heart
And every highway leads you prodigal back home
To the ordinary sidewalks you were born to roam"
...should have been immortal but, alas, he wasn't. Gladly, his music is.
"come, lonely hunter, chieftain and king, i will fly like the falcon when i go
bear me my brother under your wing, i will strike fell like lightnin when i go
i will bellow like the thunder drum, invoke the storm of war
a twistin pillar spun of dust and blood up from the prairie floor
i will sweep the foe before me like a gale out on the snow
and the wind will long recount the story, reverence and glory, when i go
spring, spirit dancer, nimble and thin, i will leap like coyote when i go
tireless entrancer, lend me your skin, i will run like the gray wolf when i go
i will climb the rise at daybreak, i will kiss the sky at noon
raise my yearnin voice at midnight to my mother in the moon
i will make the lay of long defeat and draw the chorus slow
i'll send this message down the wire and hope that someone wise is listenin when i go
and when the sun comes trumpets from his red house in the east
he will find a standin stone where long i chanted my release
he will send his mornin messenger to strike the hammer blow
and i will crumble down uncountable in showers of crimson rubies when i go
sigh, mournful sister, whisper and turn, i will rattle like dry leaves when i go
stand in the mist where my fire used to burn, i will camp on the night breeze when i go
and should you glimpse my wand'rin form out on the borderline
between death and resurrection and the council of the pines
do not worry for my comfort, do not sorrow for me so
all your diamond tears will rise up and adorn the sky beside me when i go"
Anyone who created such lines as...
"Well twenty years later he's headed south
the close-range victim of her sawed-off mouth"
"shootin fools and starry gazers, wizard hip and button-down
i walk the occam's razor way through priests and circus clowns
am i a visioner of faith or grace or vision or
another grinning prisoner in happytown
"as the sun is to the city
in the endless weeping winter
so is joy to me, and pity
when he leaves me, falsely tender"
"as a woman of heart and lenience
i make liberal with my pardons
i am generous with kindness
he, with smiles and exultations
though he binds his wounds in silence"
"This is an ordinary town and the prophet stands apart
This is an ordinary town and we brook no wayward heart
And every highway leads you prodigal back home
To the ordinary sidewalks you were born to roam"
...should have been immortal but, alas, he wasn't. Gladly, his music is.
"come, lonely hunter, chieftain and king, i will fly like the falcon when i go
bear me my brother under your wing, i will strike fell like lightnin when i go
i will bellow like the thunder drum, invoke the storm of war
a twistin pillar spun of dust and blood up from the prairie floor
i will sweep the foe before me like a gale out on the snow
and the wind will long recount the story, reverence and glory, when i go
spring, spirit dancer, nimble and thin, i will leap like coyote when i go
tireless entrancer, lend me your skin, i will run like the gray wolf when i go
i will climb the rise at daybreak, i will kiss the sky at noon
raise my yearnin voice at midnight to my mother in the moon
i will make the lay of long defeat and draw the chorus slow
i'll send this message down the wire and hope that someone wise is listenin when i go
and when the sun comes trumpets from his red house in the east
he will find a standin stone where long i chanted my release
he will send his mornin messenger to strike the hammer blow
and i will crumble down uncountable in showers of crimson rubies when i go
sigh, mournful sister, whisper and turn, i will rattle like dry leaves when i go
stand in the mist where my fire used to burn, i will camp on the night breeze when i go
and should you glimpse my wand'rin form out on the borderline
between death and resurrection and the council of the pines
do not worry for my comfort, do not sorrow for me so
all your diamond tears will rise up and adorn the sky beside me when i go"
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
"Hadestown" -- the album and now play
"A LIVE CAST ALBUM FOR “HADESTOWN”
Recording a performance of the folk-opera reinvention of Orpheus and Eurydice -- Sarah Larson/The New Yorker
"Review: ‘Hadestown’ Reanimates a Well-Known Myth" -- Charles Isherwood/The New York Times
The original release, Anais Mitchell's fourth release:
Recording a performance of the folk-opera reinvention of Orpheus and Eurydice -- Sarah Larson/The New Yorker
"Review: ‘Hadestown’ Reanimates a Well-Known Myth" -- Charles Isherwood/The New York Times
The original release, Anais Mitchell's fourth release:
Sunday, July 24, 2016
The history of Caffè Lena
"THE CLUBHOUSE THAT FOLK BUILT
By Jocelyn Arem, in Collaboration with Caffè Lena"
Can folk history repeat itself? Is the genre strong enough to do so?
By Jocelyn Arem, in Collaboration with Caffè Lena"
Can folk history repeat itself? Is the genre strong enough to do so?
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Rod MacDonald on 4th of July weekend
"Sacrifice"
© 2003 rod macdonald (blue flute/ascap)
From "Tale of Two Americas" release
Here's MacDonald performing "Sacrifice" (song 11)
I'm just as patriotic as the next guy
I love my country, want to look after my family
and I understand that freedom isn't always free
no you sometimes have to sacrifice
to fight for what you believe in
and I believe in freedom, toleration, peace and liberty
ah but those who say you have to go and fight
never send their own to battle, it's always someone else's sacrifice
that makes the system go
as long as there's enough poverty
there'll be volunteers for the military
while the ones who run the show sit back and watch their millions grow
and sacrifice the young to feed the old
sacrifice the hot to serve the cold
sacrifice the patriotic for the gold
sacrifice the truth for the story being told
i'm all right, i'm just looking through the eyes
of my patriotic heart
I'm just as angry as the next guy
I don't want to see suicide bombers over me
or breathe toxic microfibers in the hall
so they tell you to strike first
before the other guy can hurt you
what if the other guy was never going to strike you at all
ah but then it all gets marketed like a movie
some great adventure across the world, some documentary
and compared to wars in history fought for real causes
against slavery, tyranny,
extermination camps
how could there ever be enough oil wells to justify the losses?
iIm just as likely as the next guy
to drive the kids to school or heat the house with fuel
but it makes for strange relations with the world
to suck up to the countries
that sell it to us cheap
while their people hate us and want to kill us in our sleep
and now no one is afraid to bomb civilians
from so high above the soil you can't even see the oil
or alone in marketplaces with bombs strapped on their chests
one side kills the other in return for killing them
til you look on the down the road, time and time again
all you do is is sacrifice the future for the past
Monday, June 27, 2016
"Rime of the Ancient Mariner" - Chris Rawlings
Mike Regenstreif reviews Chris Rawlings' "Rime of the Ancient Mariner"
"Pronto Monto" - Kate & Anna McGarrigle
Mike Regenstreif reviews "Pronto Monto" a 1978 Kate & Anna McGarrigle release now on CD.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Isakov goes large with new release
"Gregory Alan Isakov: A Folk Artist In A Symphony Hall" -- NPR
Here's one of Isokov's best from earlier: "The Stable Song"
Remember when our songs were just like prayers.
Like gospel hymns that you called in the air.
Come down come down sweet reverence,
Unto my simple house and ring...
And ring
Ring like silver, ring like gold
Ring out those ghosts on the Ohio
Ring like clear day wedding bells
Were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell...
We’ll never tell
Come to me clear and cold on some sea
Watch the world spinning waves, like that machine
Now I’ve been crazy couldn’t you tell
I threw stones at the stars, but the whole sky fell
Now I’m covered up in straw, belly up on the table
Well I drank and sang, and passed in the stable.
That tall grass grows high and brown,
Well I dragged you straight in the muddy ground
And you sent me back to where I roam
Well I cursed and I cried, but now i know...
now I know
And I ran back to that hollow again
The moon was just a sliver back then
And I ached for my heart like some tin man
When it came oh it beat and it boiled and it rang...
oh it's ringing
Ring like crazy, ring like hell
Turn me back into that wild haired gale
Ring like silver, ring like gold
Turn these diamonds straight back into coal.
Here's one of Isokov's best from earlier: "The Stable Song"
Remember when our songs were just like prayers.
Like gospel hymns that you called in the air.
Come down come down sweet reverence,
Unto my simple house and ring...
And ring
Ring like silver, ring like gold
Ring out those ghosts on the Ohio
Ring like clear day wedding bells
Were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell...
We’ll never tell
Come to me clear and cold on some sea
Watch the world spinning waves, like that machine
Now I’ve been crazy couldn’t you tell
I threw stones at the stars, but the whole sky fell
Now I’m covered up in straw, belly up on the table
Well I drank and sang, and passed in the stable.
That tall grass grows high and brown,
Well I dragged you straight in the muddy ground
And you sent me back to where I roam
Well I cursed and I cried, but now i know...
now I know
And I ran back to that hollow again
The moon was just a sliver back then
And I ached for my heart like some tin man
When it came oh it beat and it boiled and it rang...
oh it's ringing
Ring like crazy, ring like hell
Turn me back into that wild haired gale
Ring like silver, ring like gold
Turn these diamonds straight back into coal.
Saturday, June 4, 2016
A Steve Earle/Shawn Colvin release
Here's a feature on Steve Earle covering politics plus his new release with Shawn Colvin.
"Steve Earle on backing Bernie “until he’s out”: “The Democratic party is going to have to deal with both Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren when they get to the convention”
"Steve Earle on backing Bernie “until he’s out”: “The Democratic party is going to have to deal with both Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren when they get to the convention”
A Hayes Carll update
"The Singer Becomes The Song: The Transformation Of Hayes Carll" -- Jonathan Bernstein/American Songwriter
What a fascinating and insightful look.
Here's one of Carll's best from earlier:
Jamie was a barmaid at the Underground Longrail
Seems like every Friday evenin'
She'd find herself in Jail
Not a friend this side of Houston
With the time to throw her bail
But she'll be fine, she'll be fine
Spent a lifetime walkin'
Through the walls of a broken home
Not a man round here still standin'
For the girl to call her own.
Every time she tried to hold him
She just ended up alone
But there's still time, there's still time
Davey drove a taxi
Through the streets of Boston town
Like the billboards up above him
The world just wore him down
Only soul he'd ever cared for
Was the one he'd never found
But He'll be fine, He'll be fine
Broken half of winter, with a wind chill ten below
Davey sittin' in his kitchen laughin 'bout
How the world had done him so
Then the postman burst his bubble
With a letter from below
And now it's time, now it's time
And there's a lot of people runnin' round
Not quite sure which way to go
But as for me I believe I finally found
It's just easy come and easy go
Jamie grabbed a bottle, threw her apron on the bar
Packed her whole world in a suitcase
And tossed it in the car
Woke up in Texarkana
Wondrin' how she'd got this far
And on her own, on her own
Stranger at the motel let Jamie stay for free
She was gone before the daybreak
On her ways to Tennessee
Lookin' to make the whole world over
Into a place she wants to be
But not alone, not alone
Davey left his taxi
In the bottom of a Beantown lake
He said this whole world's full of chances
And this is one I gotta take
So he caught the line to Nashville
To finally find his break
And make a home, make a home
As the train flew out of Boston
His whole world passed him by
He said I spent a lifetime runnin'
And now's the time to try
If I can't find someone to hold me
My dreams will surely die
And I'll be gone, I'll be gone
And there's a lot of people runnin' round
Not quite sure which way to go
But as for me I believe I finally found
It's just easy come and easy go
When Davey hit the pavement
The sky was almost gray
He lit a smoke off of the sidewalk
To drive the storm away
And when Jamie turned the corner
With the world upon her brow
Davey said I must be dreamin'
How could this happen now
And then she walked right towards him
Looked him right up in the eye
Davey reached out for forever
And Jamie walked on by
What a fascinating and insightful look.
Here's one of Carll's best from earlier:
Jamie was a barmaid at the Underground Longrail
Seems like every Friday evenin'
She'd find herself in Jail
Not a friend this side of Houston
With the time to throw her bail
But she'll be fine, she'll be fine
Spent a lifetime walkin'
Through the walls of a broken home
Not a man round here still standin'
For the girl to call her own.
Every time she tried to hold him
She just ended up alone
But there's still time, there's still time
Davey drove a taxi
Through the streets of Boston town
Like the billboards up above him
The world just wore him down
Only soul he'd ever cared for
Was the one he'd never found
But He'll be fine, He'll be fine
Broken half of winter, with a wind chill ten below
Davey sittin' in his kitchen laughin 'bout
How the world had done him so
Then the postman burst his bubble
With a letter from below
And now it's time, now it's time
And there's a lot of people runnin' round
Not quite sure which way to go
But as for me I believe I finally found
It's just easy come and easy go
Jamie grabbed a bottle, threw her apron on the bar
Packed her whole world in a suitcase
And tossed it in the car
Woke up in Texarkana
Wondrin' how she'd got this far
And on her own, on her own
Stranger at the motel let Jamie stay for free
She was gone before the daybreak
On her ways to Tennessee
Lookin' to make the whole world over
Into a place she wants to be
But not alone, not alone
Davey left his taxi
In the bottom of a Beantown lake
He said this whole world's full of chances
And this is one I gotta take
So he caught the line to Nashville
To finally find his break
And make a home, make a home
As the train flew out of Boston
His whole world passed him by
He said I spent a lifetime runnin'
And now's the time to try
If I can't find someone to hold me
My dreams will surely die
And I'll be gone, I'll be gone
And there's a lot of people runnin' round
Not quite sure which way to go
But as for me I believe I finally found
It's just easy come and easy go
When Davey hit the pavement
The sky was almost gray
He lit a smoke off of the sidewalk
To drive the storm away
And when Jamie turned the corner
With the world upon her brow
Davey said I must be dreamin'
How could this happen now
And then she walked right towards him
Looked him right up in the eye
Davey reached out for forever
And Jamie walked on by
Friday, May 27, 2016
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Wonderfully capturing the essence of Townes Van Zandt's music
"Record Bin: The rambling folk landscapes of Townes Van Zandt's "Our Mother the Mountain" -- Joshua Pickard
It begins:
"The history of folk music is littered with outlaws, sinners and seers—and a few others who can't be so easily characterized. Built around tradition and the passing on of lineages, folk music occupies a singular place in the annals of modern music. The artists who inhabit these incredibly personal, often-righteous waters aren't above the trials and shortcomings that fasten themselves to any given person, but they're able to convey a wide range of experience and emotion with the slightest whisper or strum of a guitar.
There were some, however, whose gifts as storytellers went far and above that of their peers. Basic narratives were lifted to elegiac legend, and specific songs were passed down from generation to generation, growing in power and stature. For singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt, this ability to transcend time and genre was one of his greatest gifts. His songs were removed from the passing of time. In the decades since they were recorded and released, they haven't aged a day. The bare and honest sentiment is as resonant as it was when these stories were conceived..."
It begins:
"The history of folk music is littered with outlaws, sinners and seers—and a few others who can't be so easily characterized. Built around tradition and the passing on of lineages, folk music occupies a singular place in the annals of modern music. The artists who inhabit these incredibly personal, often-righteous waters aren't above the trials and shortcomings that fasten themselves to any given person, but they're able to convey a wide range of experience and emotion with the slightest whisper or strum of a guitar.
There were some, however, whose gifts as storytellers went far and above that of their peers. Basic narratives were lifted to elegiac legend, and specific songs were passed down from generation to generation, growing in power and stature. For singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt, this ability to transcend time and genre was one of his greatest gifts. His songs were removed from the passing of time. In the decades since they were recorded and released, they haven't aged a day. The bare and honest sentiment is as resonant as it was when these stories were conceived..."
Darrell Scott's new release
Guy Clark has passed
"Guy Clark, a King of the Texas Troubadours, Is Dead at 74" -- New York Times
"RIP Guy Clark, Who Was There for Me When My Father Slipped Away" -- Charles Pierce
"RIP Guy Clark, Who Was There for Me When My Father Slipped Away" -- Charles Pierce
Monday, April 25, 2016
Guy Clark
"Guy Clark: A Living Legend of Texas Music We Nearly Overlooked" -- Chris Lane/Houston Press
Someone who doesn't use a lot of syllables but instead concise and precisely-placed words in evoking feelings. That's Guy Clark.
Someone who doesn't use a lot of syllables but instead concise and precisely-placed words in evoking feelings. That's Guy Clark.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Dolores Keane & Sean Keane -- Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears
What an extraordinary song, aided by such a moving chorus: Dolores Keane & Sean Keane - "Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears"
"Isle Of Hope, Isle Of Tears" lyrics
On the first day of January,
Eighteen ninety-two,
They opened Ellis Island and they let
The people through.
And first to cross the threshold
Of that isle of hope and tears,
Was Annie Moore from Ireland
Who was all of fifteen years.
Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.
In a little bag she carried
All her past and history,
And her dreams for the future
In the land of liberty.
And courage is the passport
When your old world disappears
But there's no future in the past
When you're fifteen years
Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.
When they closed down Ellis Island
In nineteen forty-three,
Seventeen million people
Had come there for sanctuary.
And in springtime when I came here
And I stepped onto it's piers,
I thought of how it must have been
When you're fifteen years.
Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.
The isle of home is always on your mind.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
On Lucinda Williams' latest release
"Five Classic Lucinda Williams Tunes"
Saturday, March 19, 2016
A Jack Hardy tribute release
Various Artists SFS60007
"Jack Hardy (1947-2011) founded Fast Folk in New York City in 1982. Appearing on its stages was a folksinger’s near-imperative. Today, a generation of singer/songwriters remember him with gratitude and fondness, and 24 of them lent their voices to this musical homage, each covering one of Hardy’s songs. Hardy himself appears on two tracks, interpreting his songs “Gossamer Thread” and “Ponderosa.” Produced by longtime Fast Folk recordist Mark Dann and balladeer David Massengill, the notes include Hardy’s Songwriter’s Manifesto, along with many photos, personal recollections, anecdotes, and essays by fellow singer/songwriters who knew and cherished the Fast Folk founder. 2 discs, 26 tracks, 105-pages of extensive notes, photos, and lyrics."
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