Father: Outfit

Outfit, by The Drive-By Truckers

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The Drive-By Truckers are a group of novelists parading as a country rock band: amazingly well versed in telling stories in their songs, often done in the most literary ways. Adopting the voice of a character, using metaphor and image in ways seen traditionally in literature, sometimes even forgoing singing and just delivering lyrics as spoken monologues.  Not that this is unique in music, by the Truckers take on everything, from lyrical content to song structure, is 

rare and unmatched as far as anything else going on in the rock world. Their catalog is full of characters and settings that would be lucidly at home in any Flannery O’Connor story. My favorite member of this outfit is the now solo Jason Isbell. He’s delivered a library’s worth of southern gothic, tall tales and legends, outrageous characters and backwoods, down-home spirit in his music. My words pale in comparison and in accurately praising or describing the true-to-life and tangible literary landscape that Isbell is responsible for bringing to vivid life though song.

One of my favorite songs is the ballad Outfit, from Decoration Day. It’s a monologue, delivered to an unseen child by a distinctly opinionated, and somewhat weary father. The speaker’s voice is soaked in wisdom, perhaps whiskey, too, and the advice he offers covers some distinctly strange notions and concepts of how to live a good life. But in the end, it’s a story of a man’s love for his family delivered to a possibly wayward child who he fears losing, or perhaps sees slipping into the kid of life he himself could have had and because of his proximity and understanding of that particular danger, wants nothing more than for his child to do right. And in that worry about his child going wayward, we also read the father’s lamenting the life he’s lived. Good or bad, you can tell dad wants better for his own son, and though the advice is delivered out of love, there is a bit of envy, too: the speaker has lived a life, that while live primarily out of love, hasn’t been quite the one he wanted. His son, meanwhile, is a singer, as opposed to a house painter and refrigerator repairman.  When the father tells the son “Don't sing with a fake British accent”, there’s a bit of envy there. As if he should harbor such opinions.

But more, so, there’s the admonishment to not repeat the same mistakes and above all, to never act like “act like your family's a joke.” In the end, I suppose it’s a song about what every good father wants for his children: for their lives to be better than his own.  

Here's Isbell, post Truckers, doing Outfit on KEXP...

Father: Drive (For Daddy Gene)

Alan Jackson, Drive (For Daddy Gene)

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Alan Jackson has certainly achieved elder statesman status in country music, and rightly so. But, I’ve always felt his work could be separated between the genuine country good, and the cheesy, cliché-ridden country bad. Songs like Midnight in Montgomery and Murder on Music Row delve into the tropes and images that divide ‘real’ country from the terrible pop, or “bro” country that dominates radio. Then, he cranks out stuff like Chattahoochee, which I know is popular, but has always struck me as appealing to the lowest common denominator of hillbilly ‘aw shucksisms. It’s like Eric Church, who is pretty darn cool in most regards, using ‘mom’s apple pie’ as a key image in a song: it lacks legitimacy and seems like taking the easiest road to wedging in a nice fitting rhyme. Or appealing to what’s comfortable and well known, in order to add some kind of inclusiveness to the music. But, shouldn’t music be about exploring new emotional venues? I don’t know—relying on hack cliché is my biggest gripe with country music, but then, what form of popular music doesn’t rely on the easily identifiable to sell a theme? And t-shirts.  Jackson has done more good than bad, and errs more towards the soulful legacy of Hank Williams than some of his elder contemporaries.  But, he can clunk with the worst of ‘em, too.

Drive (For Daddy Gene), a song about the bonding experiences between father and son, then son become father to his own children straddles the border between the genuine and the over-mapped imagery of “Dad”. But, it’s a wonderful song, with a soaring hook, and just the right amount of sentimentalism to relate to on a level that invokes unaffected authenticity.  Jackson mines the imagery of restoring first a boat with his own father, then a truck, and ends up doing the same with his own daughters later in life to talk not only about beautiful memories, but also of the sense of growth and of freedom that comes from learning to drive and being the pilot, so to speak. The idea of piloting moves from the actual sense of being at the wheel to being able to eventually pilot one’s own life according to and because of the lessons passed on from father to child. And I suppose a little sentimental cliché never hurt anyone, least not when we’re talking about dad (or mom, or little sis….). And really, what else is a father meant to do than teach his children to be better than he was?

And, I must confess, I put on Chattahoochee while I was writing this, and now its stuck in my head…grumble, grumble…

FATHER: NEVER ANY GOOD/Martin Simpson

I guess many of us tired old bloggers are at the time of life where we are beginning to evaluate/re-evaluate our fathers, as so touchingly displayed in J. David's piece below. I lost my own pa nearly 30 years ago, his memory now more benign presence than black hole, but this is neither about me nor him, being more an opportunity to, possibly, introduce, a name less well known than I would like, one Martin Simpson.
For me, as a UK based folkie, his name has always been bubbling under my surface tensions, a perennial on the listings pages over decades, cropping up in good company yet never quite as celebrated as the company kept: he has appeared with June Tabor and been a member of the Albion (Country/Dance) Band on occasion. His style is an interesting hybrid of an english tradition, albeit with odd tunings, spun with a delta blues bottleneck bravadaccio, honed from years resident in the U.S., styles that are seldom played alongside each other. And devoutly acoustic, no mean hand also on banjo. However, in recent years, into his 4th decade of recordings, he has hit a purple patch of masterful solo records and a slew of collaborations within which he has seemed the patrician guiding focus. Awards and accolades have tumbled around him in swathes, his admirers including one Richard Thompson, who has said:  “I am a big fan of Martin's playing. Perhaps the highest praise I could give is to say that he never stops getting better!” Here they are playing together.

But what has this to do with fatherhood? Time for the song:

I just love the apparent disparagement of the lyric, the way the narrative catalogues the shortcomings, perhaps being the voices of criticism the boy Martin heard of his father in childhood, the sums thereof unwittingly combining to produce an adorable image of a wonderful father, hang the husband, breadwinner stuff, just a lovely and loved man who adored his son. OK, perhaps a rose tinted memoir, but one that effortlessly has me welling up even just thinking about the song. Live in concert it has a particular poignancy, as Simpson describes how he, as the son of an older father, his father being over 50 when he was born, himself became a first time father in his 50s. The hope he can be the same to his son exudes from every pore of his being. And maybe the song is right. Why is it that the workplace statistics of a man are so more highly celebrated than the more ethereal family persona? The list of giants of politics, business and, yes, even the arts are littered with distant figures from their  neglected progeny and worse, cruel and insensitive parenting almost de rigeur for the self-made man.

There are other songs by others that touch on similar territory. Some perhaps even written with the insight of having not been themselves the father they reminisce so fondly of. To all intents and purposes, Ian Dury seems not to have been an easy man but his song to his father hits a similar vein:

Isn't it the truth, as we get older, abetted by those annoying and increasing similarities in the mirror, far from hoping we won't become our fathers, as teenagers, in time, inevitably, we do.

Buy the studio version of 'Never Any Good' and hope your own sons will think so kindly.

Fathers and Fatherhood: Daddy's Working Boots

Dolly Parton: Daddy's Working Boots

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A perfect example of a good old Christian country song: an affectionate celebration of the working man, told through a focus on the trappings of the blue-collar life and the ways in which work itself can be a kind of love, complete with a confident plea for Daddy's heavenly reward. First released way back in '73, Dolly's young voice is sweet and clear, and the choir of angels that joins her for the final verse is a perfect touch.

Fathers and Fatherhood: The Memories and Legacy Edition

Michael Smith: I Brought My Father with Me

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Catie Curtis: Dad's Yard

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Todd Snider: Missing You

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I am still in the small town of Flowery Branch, Georgia - what was to be a two-week visit (from my home in Florida) with my mom has turned indefinite. We have begun home hospice, and I have chosen to be the primary caregiver - we are taking this One Day At a Time... the process could be days/weeks/months... and I am exactly where I need to be...

I am reminded of how different this is from my father's passing, almost 14 years ago... on my 19th wedding anniversary – I had not spoken to him in the 3 years before his death because he had chosen to take his life in a direction I did not wish to follow. I felt no guilt about our diverging paths, only regret that there was a finality to whatever possibilities I may have envisioned for our future - on the day after his memorial service, as my mother, brother, sister and I drove up to Anna Ruby Falls to scatter his ashes, we took turns telling stories of our interactions with him over the years... and it was like putting together the pieces of a puzzle, as we all had such different, and sometimes conflicting, memories to share.

My father is so much in me: my love of music, my affinity for the written word and my appreciation of humor, especially a good pun - on the dark side, I have also inherited his qualities of perfectionism which leads to procrastination which leads to paralysis.

My time, energy and music collection are limited these days... but my memories are boundless and my legacy is dear - thanks to Michael, Catie and Todd for sharing theirs with us...

Fathers and fatherhood : Song for my father

Horace Silver Quintet: - Song For My Father

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Me and my father don't talk much, or hardly at all, but he has a great blues and jazz records collection - along with the complete discography of French folk poet and singer Georges Brassens. I usually give him Cds and compilations for his birthday or for Christmas, and he looks happy.
So I guess the best song I could choose for a Father's day is a song without words. Steely Dan fans will recognize the first bars of "Ricky Don't Lose that Number".

Now I gotta go, because my 18-month old son is coming with a book he wants me to read for him.

Fathers and Fatherhood: My Father’s Piano

Kristina Olsen: My Father‘s Piano

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Sometimes you don’t learn to appreciate a father until after he is gone. The narrator of My Father’s Piano has that piano to remember her father by. And it represents all of his best qualities in her memory of him. I put this song in a mix of songs I made for me and my wife, which I called Bittersweet. These are songs of warm nostalgia, tinged with regret for those which are gone forever. There are many songs like this, but it is the mark of a great songwriter to capture these conflicting emotions well. Kristina Olsen has done that here.

My first acquaintance with Kristina Olsen was at a small folk and folk dance festival held outside of Boston. (Hey, Boyhowdy, ever heard of NEFFA?) She presented a workshop on unusual musical instruments from Victorian England. Olsen had several of these with her, and could play all of them.

Fathers and Fatherhood: Take Her in Your Arms

Andy M Stewart and Manus Lunny: Take Her in Your Arms

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Songwriters as a group seem to have uneasy relationships with their fathers. To start with, there simply are far more songs about mothers. But, beyond that, do you want to give your father a mix for Father’s Day that includes a classic about how he never had enough time for his son, (Cat’s in the Cradle)? Or how he wasn’t there at all, (Papa Was a Rolling Stone)? You see the difficulty.

Even Take Her in Your Arms is not a thank you for a father’s good advice. Rather it is a comic portrait of a lovesick young man who should have asked his father’s advice, but never did.

When you hear about Celtic folk music, you usually hear about how wonderful Irish music is. And it is. But the Scots more than hold their own. Andy M Stewart and Manus Lunny were in the “Scottish Supergroup” Silly Wizard. Since then, they have continued to produce fine work, both as solo artists and as a duo.

Fathers and Fatherhood: Father and Daughter

Paul Simon: Father and Daughter

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This one triggers a specific memory for me.

First, let me say that I am one of those people who hates sing-alongs. I always feel that I’m going to get it wrong. So I don’t sing.

But when my wife and I took my daughter to see The Wild Thornberry Movie in the theater, something came over me. When the story is over, a song plays while the end titles roll. In The Wild Thornberry Movie, that song is Paul Simon’s Father and Daughter. In the theater, I was hearing it for the first time. By the time the chorus repeated for the first time, I had turned to my daughter, and was singing it to her. The magic carried through to the end of the song and a little beyond. That moment is now my reminder, if I ever need it, of just how much I love my daughter. The years that have passed since then have not changed that.

Bonus trivia fact: Nigel Thornberry was voiced, in the movie and on television, by Tim Curry.

Fathers and fatherhood : Adam Raised A Cain

Bruce Springsteen: Adam Raised A Cain

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Well, it's not exactly an ideal song for a Father's day mix, but I really can't come up with songs about peaceful father to son relationships. Or let us say that my favorite songs about fathers deal with opposive daddies, sometimes even physically ("A Boy Named Sue"), or imaginary and fantasized ones ("Papa Was A Rolling Stone").

That's probably one of the reasons why Bruce is my favorite singer. Fatherhood is a recurrent theme in his songs, going from the anger of "Adam" or "Independance Day" to a more peaceful feeling in "Walk Like A Man". But I really prefer the angry Boss of Darkness or Nebraska, when he sings about having a father rather than being one.

Fathers and Fatherhood: Dad

K's Choice: Dad

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It seems like every other week we get a theme that a song by K's Choice would be good for. I have decided to choose other selections for some of those since I don't want it to be a glut of them, or to make it sound like I'm obsessed with them. Simply put, it's been very coincidental that the themes match up with their songs.

But I have held back long enough, this song is too good a fit not to post. "Dad" is a simple piano ballad sung as if written as a present to their own father (the group's songwriters are a brother and sister duo). But what is great about it is that though it's mostly a very sweet and sappy ballad, it's got enough realness to keep it sounding intimate and personal. It's really beautiful and touching, and a must-have for any Father's Day mix if you ask me.

Fathers and Fatherhood: Daddy, What’s a Train?

Utah Phillips: Daddy, What‘s a Train?

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I wasn’t expecting to get to post the transitional tune this week, but here it is.

I am 43 years older than my son, (now 5). So I grew up on another planet. This was a world where TV signals came through the air, and were caught by something called an antenna. After a storm or a windy day, my father would go up on the roof, and turn the antenna back to its optimal position. A computer was a machine that took up an entire room, and only institutional users had them.

And, in the next town over, there was a railroad track. I always felt lucky when we happened to go through that town as one of those impossibly long freight trains came through.

A few years ago. they shut down that line. They pulled up the tracks, they even took out all of the railroad trestles. Now, if you didn’t know where the tracks used to be, you could never tell. Going back before my time, I imagine this happened a lot. Air freight came in, and it must have seemed like all freight shipping by train would become a thing of the past. And that would be around the time that Utah Phillips wrote this song.