Pandemic Holiday Songs: If We Make It Through December

Merle Haggard: If We Make It Through December
[purchase the original]
[purchase Phoebe Bridgers’ cover] 

Despite having amassed a large number of holiday songs in various formats over the past few years, I was not familiar with this song until I heard Phoebe Bridgers’ recent version of it back in November. I’ve put the Bandcamp link to her version above, so you can buy it, if you’d like, with proceeds going to Los Angeles’ Downtown Women’s Center. 

What I found out, though, is that the song was written by Merle Haggard, and he originally released it in 1973. And before Bridgers covered it, other musicians, mostly from the country music world, released versions. Despite its age, it is, in many ways, a perfect song for this year, and I suspect that’s why Bridgers thought to record it.

On its face, it's a sad song, sung from the standpoint of a working man, recently laid off from his job just before Christmas, who despairs about having to struggle at what should be a happy time of year, and how disappointed his daughter will be when there’s no Christmas cheer. And yet, despite this, the song is optimistic. The goal is just to make it through the cold, dark month, and then everything will be all right. There’s hope of a better future in a warmer place, maybe California, come summer time. 

And here we are, in 2020. The pandemic, and the incompetent response to it by this administration, has caused untold thousands of Americans to find themselves unemployed, suffering from food insecurity, and mourning lost loved ones.  We’ve been admonished not to have family holiday cheer this year to give us some respite, which is why so many of us just want this crap year to be over. 

If we can just make it through December. 

Of course, things aren’t going to magically get better on January 1, 2021, or even on January 20, but between the new (and forthcoming) vaccines, and a competent and empathetic new administration (and, hopefully, Democratic control of the Senate, Georgia voters willing), maybe things will start improving. 

You can listen to Haggard’s original version of the song at the link above, and here’s Bridgers’ contemplative cover:

prison:momma tried

purchase [ Momma Tried]

It wasn't until after I had made my choice that I realized that, curiously - as I post this - it's just a few days short of the one year anniversary of Merle Haggard's death (April 6, 2016). I was simply thinking this song was a classic that ought to be included in a prison theme, so I can't claim foresight for choosing it at such a serendipitous time.

You may well know that the man himself spent time in the klink, hence his first hand knowledge of what he sings:

I turned 21 in prison doing life without parole ..

And, considering my previous post, wherein I ruminated about the prevalance of prison in country music, you might think I am trying to prove a point. Not so. It's just coincidence.

Haggard touches on the subject of nature/nurture when he notes that:

Momma tried to raise me better but her pleadings I denied

Again, classic country themes - raised by mom, I had an honest home life, but things happened and here I am ... doin' the best I can.

In Memoriam : Merle Haggard

In Memoriam: Merle Haggard
Purchase: Mama Tried 

It’s hard to keep track of all the shitty things that went down in 2016, including remembering all the musical luminaries we lost. Prince, Bowie, Cohen—hard to get past that, but it almost seems like everyone forgot Merle Haggard took the long journey home, too. Haggard passed away right before Prince, so I suppose the news got a little lost.
And, whose casting aspersions? Not me—so much bad went down in 2016 it’s hard to remember it all, let alone remember anything with a light shining on it…

What to say about The Hag? He’s classic country, as responsible for the sound of “real” country as Jennings, Owens, Williams, or Cash. I include Buck Owen’s name in that list of luminaries for two reasons: one, Buck has always been one of my favorites, and two, he and Haggard share equal responsibility for creating the “Bakersfield” sound, otherwise known as honky-tonk.

The meaning of honky tonk is disputed, with lots of disambiguation about the origins of the word, but essentially: it’s chunky, rhythm based hillbilly tunes, spun with a certain verve, rollicking, good time choruses which must be crooned – not sung - and whole lot of dirt and sawdust and love of things run down, of bourbon shot - not sipped - and beer cold and in a can.

I always found Haggard to be kind of square, as before I realized the cultural treasure of country and western music, all I knew of him was “Okie from Muskogee”, which was featured on the Platoon soundtrack and was used as the musical symbol representing the idea of establishment in the platoon itself. There are two great musical scenes in that movie: in the doper’s den, we get a wild party scene accompanied by Smokey Robinson’s “Tracks of My Tears”—sweetness and light, despite the darkness. And Haggard’s anti-hippie screed, “Okie From Muskogee” accompanies the scene where we spend time with the hardcore, non-dope smoking, hippie hating soldiers under Barnse’s command…two versions of hell, made much more tolerable with music, probably both songs inserted as an aural joke…What's ironic about Haggard's straight-laced stance that he took in "Muskogee" is how it directly opposes his own lifestyle, meaning his well-documented drug and alcohol problems. But C&W music is often more about the story and the real life that is reflects than the sterling souls of those who deliver it all. Fiction, or in this case, song, doesn't need to be the truth, at least not so much as it reflects the reality of the one who writes it. It's the emotional truth that matters, not the actual truth that inspires the story...

As I got older, I started to recognize Haggard’s greatness through the influence he had on younger, modern artists. That’s a long list, but his fingerprints can be found everywhere, from Dwight Yoakam to Eric Church, to Reckless Kelly and a lot in between. When he died, the Washington Post wrote how "Respect for the Hag [Haggard] as an icon, both for his musical status and his personal views, is a common theme in country music.” His Wikipedia page goes on to say part of his ubiquity in country songs is the fact that ‘Merle’ rhymes with ‘girl’ and is therefore an easy phonic device to use in four chord, verse-chorus-verse country tunes—you know, the kind you love to sing along to ‘cause they sit so easy in the part of you that feels so good when you hear a pop song…that’s probably a whole post in itself, too.

The Hag—often imitated, rarely equaled (though, I think of all his disciples, Sturgill Simpson, with his grave, beautiful baritone and poet’s soul, is his best successor). There’s a hell of a band up in heaven this year, you know? I don’t want to be there, not yet, but, it bet things sound great right about now. My selection from The Hag is one of my faves, not necessarily his best, but then, that kind of subjectivity could be a whole other post…

I'm using "Mama Tried” for my song to accompany this post, which plays on the best of the outlaw country image that is almost it’s own metaphor with these old troubadours, and never, ever gets old…

Martial: John Prine and Merle Haggard

Purchase: John Prine: Sam Stone
Purchase: Merle Haggard: A Soldier’s Last Letter

I’m taking a bit of creative liberty on our theme - martial - to talk about two songs concerning the military experience.

One song strikes me as poetic than musical, in the way it deals in stark imagery to show the aftermath of war and the kinds of wounds that don’t heal. The other is a bit of old-style country balladeering that unfortunately plays on cringe-inducing cliché and motif in a way that only country music can. A little on that idea before we get started. Sometimes, country music can be lazy—silly tropes repeated to the point that the simple use of an easily recognizable image stands blatantly for a resounding and universal symbol. Think about all the times you’ve heard the mention of American flags, mom, apple pie, Jesus and fast cars. I mean used seriously, without the requisite irony. A lot of country artists get away with lyrical murder, mining the same worn out themes and images – yet people fall for it, think formula makes for value. But, I guess people make John Grisham a bestseller, too, so when we look at music, sadly, quality is not the standout arbiter of quality.

But, this is not the case with John Prine, the old-soul minstrel and bard of American music. From his withered voice, to his minor key arrangements, Prine reminds me of troubadour of old, singing to tell a story, using words and story with the musical accompaniment as an afterthought. Let’s say this: Prine’s influence as a songwriter is beyond measure. Does he need a great voice, when the hand of God moves his pen? Probably not.  

Sam Stone is a song about a veteran returning from an overseas war who comes back to his family with “shattered nerves” and “shrapnel in his knee.” Our soldier, Sam Stone, with a “Purple Heart and a monkey on his back”, turns to drugs to ease his pain. What we have is a story, told through the bleak imagery of isolation, emptiness and the lingering odd sensation of how one sees the world when they are high. What is most striking is the underlying idea that even though the battlefield is nowhere near, our protagonist is still in dangerous proximity to death. In reality, Sam Stone left one war behind and came home to another one, and it is this war with his own demons that finally kills him and leaves his family broken and abandoned.

Prine has always been interesting to me: his voice can be grating. I imagine a lot of people who don’t know Prine would be inclined to turn him off, much like they would hearing Dylan’s distinctive delivery. But, lyrically, he is unrivaled. Reading Prine is like delving into a modern Whitman, sans the listing and cataloging. This is the writer of the everyman, vulnerable to the failings of the human heart, of age and distress, of societies’ brutish business and the dangers found lurking in the landscape of our everyday world. His melodies are lush, complicated and complex, building from a simple phrase and growing outward to gorgeously orchestrated compositions. Deceptively simple. Subtle. Beautiful. John Prine’s music works in ways that is rare – more than songs, carrying the emotional weight of a poem.

Now, let’s move on to the other song. I feel a little ashamed calling any song by the great Merle Haggard cheesy, but A Soldier’s Last Letter is a classic, but it’s also classic silliness. Penned in the epistolary form, A Soldier’s Last Letter is just that: a last letter written from the battlefield, from a soon to be dead soldier to his mother. The first two stanzas deal in the classic motifs of duty and remembrance, while the second half of the song details the mother’s reaction to the letter, reading it long after her darling boy, the one she used to yell at for coming home with mud on his shoes, has been killed. It’s a pretty song, I suppose, but what gets me is the way it ends: the mother, distraught at the loss of her son, goes down on her knees to pray. She prays the God will watch over all the other sons, but she also prays: “…dear God, keep America free.”

It strikes me as odd that a song like A Soldier’s Last Letter is considered a classic. It is classic only in playing on the same silly tropes so many patriotic songs use: mom, freedom… It starts off interestingly – but to think a mother, in the immediate wake of learning her son is gone, still finds it in her heart to pray to keep America free? It’s the kind of song that evokes lots of cheers and chanting – patriotism, especially in a country song, is a notion vulnerable to misuse and to childish sentiment. You think about performers that bandy about the stars and stripes as part of their image rather than the hard fought and contentious concept that democracy and freedom really is, and conception gets muddy. Merle Haggard speaks to freedom, hard living and independent, rugged individualism. That’s great. That probably is American. But then what about some 10-cent jackass like Toby Keith, and his knee jerk patriotism, or Eric Church (who I do like, but I think his metaphors are bargain basement cheap) and you can see a difference. Perhaps country music has to delve into those overused ideas—it could be an essential part of the genre, just like something jumping out of the shadows is key to horror films. I don’t know.

I reluctantly use The Hag as a bad example - a silly song in an otherwise pretty great catalog - of what is frustrating in country music. I listen to a lot of modern country, by virtue of Spotify (I get to listen, rather than buy, so it’s easier than ever to get a feel for what is trending). And, I’ve been really bothered by how shallow a lot of it is - and how bad songwriting is so easily considered “good.” Merle isn’t a bad songwriter, by any stretch, though I have always hated Okie from Muskogee, and the conservative, asinine divisiveness of that song and the point it tries to make in attacking one set of values in favor of another, equally oddball set. But, it’s an old song now,  a relic of an era.

So much of today’s country music comes off as lazy—overused clichés meant evoke the most predictable response. I guess those easily recognized values are best to create mass appeal. But, when you look at great writers and how they don’t ever achieve the status that so many lousy ones do, it can be frustrating. And make for some bad music.

The Age of Aquarius: Okie from Muskogee

Merle Haggard: Okie from Muskogee

[purchase]

No compilation of hippie music is complete without acknowledging its counterpart, the anti-hippie song. And no song better embodies the counter-counter-culture than Merle Haggard's "Okie from Muskogee."

Haggard released the song twice in 1969 (as a studio recording and again as a live record), at the height of the anti-war protests. Its lyrics take a broad swipe at the hippie ethos. "We don't smoke marijuana in Muskogee," Haggard boasts in the song's opening salvo. "We don't let our hair grow long and shaggy...Leather boots are still in style for manly footwear...The kids here still respect the college dean."

There's a lingering question as to whether Haggard subscribed to the song's philosophy. It's easy to assume he was being sincere; listen to the introduction he gives the song on his landmark Okie from Muskogee Live record. "Okie" is one of several songs Haggard wrote and recorded at the time tweaking the counter-culture ("Fightin' Side of Me", "Working Man Blues"). And he didn't squawk when Richard Nixon endorsed the song and used it at political rallies.

But, in many interviews over the past two decades, Haggard has claimed he meant "Okie" to be a character study or satire. For example, in an interview with the A.V. Club website, Haggard says the song is merely "documentation of the uneducated that lived in America at the time." In another interview cited by Tom Roland in the book Number One Country Hits, Haggard says, "I didn't intend for 'Okie' to be taken as strongly from my lips as it was." And certainly, Haggard has written many songs that could be considered to be left of center, including Steinbeck-esque portraits of economic injustice in California, where he grew up.

"I always thought everybody got 'Okie from Muskogee' wrong," Bob Dylan told Rolling Stone in a profile of Haggard. "It's one of the funniest satires ever. If Randy Newman had written it, nobody would have thought twice."

Maybe. I suspect that while Haggard may not have fully sympathized with the song's sentiment, he meant for it to appeal to people who aligned themselves with its philosophy. As his politics changed -- and as he came to be recognized by the mainstream music press as one of the finest writers in the history of country music (an assessment I whole-heartedly agree with) -- Hag began engaging in a bit of revisionist history.

Kris Kristofferson, who for years satirized "Okie from Muskogee" in his live act, offers one of the best assessments of the song, suggesting it could be a kind of hippie anthem after all. He told Rolling Stone: "I remember saying...'Maybe that's the only bad song he ever wrote.' I was wrong. That song is saying 'I'm proud to be an Okie from Muskogee.' Coming from his background in California, that's like saying I'm black and I'm proud."

Suites and Medleys: The Reduced Merle Haggard

Merle Haggard: Medley of Hits

[purchase]

Just as the Reduced Shakespeare Company boils down the epic works of Williams Shakespeare into two hours, this excellent medley of Merle Haggard hits does a good job of condensing some of the Bard of Country Music's best songs from the 1960s into a slightly overmodulated six-minute medley. The set is taken from his legendary live album, Okie from Muskogee, recorded in Muskogee, Oklahoma, USA. It was Haggard's first live album, and also his first record to go gold, then platinum. If this is your introduction to these songs, they sound complete; in fact, after I got used to these abbreviated renderings, the extra words in the full-length songs almost seemed unnecessary. Almost.

I would write more about this....but something about unnecessary extra words makes me want to stop here.

Oh Mama: Mama Tried

Merle Haggard: Mama Tried

[purchase]

In my book, this is the big mama of all "mama" songs. It's one of the all-time great country songs sung by one of the most legendary voices in the history of country music (second only to Hank, I'd say).

Whether you hear it wafting from the jukebox on Friday night, singing from your a.m. radio on sunny Saturday afternoon, or streaming from that tiny speaker on your laptop on a Tuesday afternoon at work, this is what country music was meant to sound like.

Be sure to check out the comprehensive song review at AMG (which I can only fault for misquoting the lyrics, by calling the singer a "railroad" child).

"One and only rebel child from a family meek and mild..."

Work: Workin' Man Blues

Merle Haggard: Workin' Man Blues

[purchase]

Merle Haggard was always a champion of the common man... the working man. He captured the life of the working man perfectly here on "Workin' Man Blues."

The working man takes pride in his craft. And while he may dream of having some time off or skipping out on his responsibilities all together, he goes right back to work with the crew on Monday morning. He may work til he drops... but he'll keep right on going until he can't go anymore.