MUSICAL MYSTERIES: WHO DO YOU LOVE?

This is becoming topical, as the thoughts of our leaders turn to whether we, the great unwashed, albeit with very clean hands, can or should be crushed by the restarting wheels of industry. Which is more important, survival of the species or of the economy? With, as ever, the failure to appreciate the fairly solid link between the two. Maybe by both sides, but I am simply a medic, not a businessman. As I start writing, the Observer Sunday newspaper over here, the U.K., has published an opinion poll, stating a 4/5 majority wanting to err on the side of caution and to maintain the lockdown. However, many of the politicians are in the smaller subset, it seems and feels, with Boris uncharacteristically unforthcoming, with perhaps his throw of the dice having given him an unwelcome perspective, absent ahead of his hospitalisation. Anyway, one of the ideas out of lockdown is a concept of family 'bubbles', a named small list of family/friends with whom you may consort. So, who do you love? Enough?

The song is by Bo Diddley, the owlish rocker with glasses, often a bowler hat, funny shaped guitars and an unshakeable self-belief. Always looking for ways to aggrandise himself against his peers, the idea came to him as he witnessed a group of kids trying to outbrag each other. Full of arcane images to conjure up dread and a sense of mystery: rattlesnakes, skulls and graveyards, by showing he is the biggest baddest Daddy of all, he begs the question of his lover: Who do you love? With but one expected answer. Covered so many times over the years, I am sure we all think we know it, so the original may come as some surprise:

Bo Diddley

It doesn't even carry much of the trademark Diddley shuffle. That would come later. And it wasn't even a hit, at least for Bo. It took Ronnie Hawkins, the journeyman Canadian rocker, to get it charting, admittedly in his home country. The vocal is all swagger, dipping into a manic frenzy at each verse/chorus end. Not bad for 1963. Name mean anything? Ronnie Hawkins. And the Hawks. Yup, I can see that glimmer of recognition. Those Hawks, later the Band, with incendiary guitar from Robbie Robertson.This they reprised, with Hawkins, at their own zenith, for The Last Waltz.

Ronnie Hawkins & the Hawks

Fast forward another five years, and we are in San Francisco. Local hipsters the Quicksilver Messenger Service were so taken with the song it became the entire second side of their second album, extends and interpreted into six separate "suites, blending live performance with studio work-outs. Indeed, so keen were the band on Diddley, they included another of his songs, Mona, on the flip.   With twin lead guitars and access to all sorts of stimulants, this was a heady and ambitious project. Arguably no small amount of pretension but, hey, it was 1968.

Quicksilver Messenger Service

I confess I knew none of these versions as they dropped, my first exposure being via short-lived UK rockers, Juicy Lucy. I was 12 and found their 1969 rendition, as ever on Top of the Pops, sinister and exciting. This group were unusual for this country in that they included pedal steel guitar, via one Glenn Campbell, not that one and no relation. Sadly it has dated badly, and my rifle back into their catalogue prove disappointing likewise.

Juicy Lucy

Now I am all grown up, my tastes have broadened and I especially love covers. So, rather than penning words, here's some of my favourites, not all from expected sources.

Townes Van Zandt

Tom Rush

Carlos Santana (with the Fabulous Thunderbirds)

Dr. Feelgood

Dion DiMucci

So, decision time, who do I love? Who's going to be in my bubble? And how do make it happen?

Who?

JULY/THE CUCKOO

Sure, you know this, of course you do. You may have sung it as a child; it certainly sounds as if you should have sung it as a child. I didn't but, when I first heard it, I sort of wish I did, or had. I first came across it on the remarkable Kristin Hersh solo album, 'Hips and Makers', in 1994, somewhat of a sidestep from her earlier and later career as, arguably, THE Throwing Muse. (No argument really, but reference is always made, compulsorily, to her half-sibling in the band, Tanya Donnelly.) Tucked in towards the end of a slew of songs of sparse self-immolation comes this cover of an old english folk song, Roud 413 no less. (Me, neither.) It stands out by virtue of its simplicity, perhaps the trigger to her later album, consisting entirely of traditional appalachian ditties, 'Murder, Misery and then Goodnight', also strongly commended. Many of this songs on that set too have a link back to the ballad traditions of Britain.

So what have cuckoos to do with July? Well, everything apparently, or sort of, at least over here. Let me direct you to the lyrics, except, being from the canon of trad.arr., often the lyric varies from version to version, as there is some uncertainty as to whether they "never holler cuckoo till the 4th of July" or whether they "sucketh white flowers to keep her voice clear", the lines apparently interchangeable. This may help. But, as I was saying, it was deemed so essential that a cuckoo's song be heard to beckon in the start of summer that the venerable Times of London traditionally published,  and may well still do, yearly letters around when readers had heard their first of the year. Indeed, a book has put these together. And for those who are thinking the 4th of July late for summer, and I write on the 15th after a full 8 weeks without rain, the suggestion is that the July versions of the song emanate from singers trying to appeal to an american ear.

The list of performers who have included this song in their repertoire is huge, not unexpectedly including the greats of folk song on both sides of the pond, from Jean Ritchie to Shirley Collins, Doc Watson to Martin Simpson, let alone Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. More surprising are versions by rock/blues screamer  Janis Joplin (in Big Brother and the Holding Company) and rapper Buck 65. Here, however are a few more elegant versions, three of my, other than Kristin, favourites.

Archetypal englishman in L.A., Richard Thompson, together with Eliza, daughter of Martin, Carthy and Canadian legend Garth Hudson:

 A radically different version from blues muso-ethnologist Taj Mahal:

And Laura Veirs, with a fairly traditional take:

Hell, I haven't even included Townes, Rory and many, many more. (And some of these, mentioned and/or featured may offer the flower sucking over July. So sue me!) But, before I send you to the record store, all this romanticism should not take away the ugly truth about this bird.

Do you know, if you like the Kristin, buy the whole damn album!

Acoustic Versions: Double Shot of Townes Van Zandt

Townes Van Zandt: The Hole

Townes Van Zandt: Marie

[purchase]

This song is from 'No Deeper Blue', one of the post-Poppy Records albums of Townes Van Zandt's that shines very brightly.for me. There's a one-two punch here for me. 'The Hole' and 'Marie'.

'The Hole' is easily one of the scariest songs I've ever heard. ..not its SOUND (which IS kind of ominous on his Sugar Hill CD) but the words that do it for me. It's a harrowing archetypal parable that cuts right through flesh to the living bone.
Though I love the studio/band version to death, (Phillip Donnelly's guitar playing is terrifying in its dark majesty), it's hearing Townes solo and
unadorned playing & singing his words and music that opens up a different meaning to his words. I played this song in Drug Rehabs by myself for a couple of years when I was doing 'Special Population' shows. It was part of an hour presentation I did of songs and received wisdom. This was my peak; the next to last song in the set. The words have deep connection to anyone who has been a slave to an addiction of ANY kind.

'Marie' on the other hand, maybe one of the SADDEST songs I ever heard, a small cinematic portrait of a proud but beaten homeless man and his love. It gives us a list of situations not unknown to those of us who have been homeless, even briefly. If you've been lucky enough not to be so down that you got THERE, maybe this won't hit you at all. On the other hand, if you have even half a heart
you'll feel this one, deep.

Townes' legacy is dark, sad and scary sometimes.

Guest post by Duncan

Blank and Blues / For The Birds: Black Crow Blues

Townes Van Zandt: Black Crow Blues

[purchase]

Bob Dylan: Black Crow Blues

[purchase]

A twofer transition today gets us from the blues to the birds in one fell swoop.

First, it's been seven months since we last posted a Townes Van Zandt song here on Star Maker Machine - the longest we've gone without a tune from the cowboy troubadour since our inception. Happily, his Black Crow Blues - recorded early, and ultimately collected on 2003 posthumous release In The Beginning - is a typically sparse, morbid ballad.

Meanwhile, as befitting his early folk incarnation, Bob Dylan's Black Crow Blues uses a much more traditional form. The first song Dylan ever recorded on piano, it's has never been performed live, but the combination of Dylan's pre-rock tone, those cryptic lyrics, and the barrelhouse blues is certainly worth celebrating.

If: The Townes Van Zandt/Dar Williams Connection

Townes Van Zandt: If I Needed You

[purchase]

My husband and I saw Crazy Heart the other night - the storyline was fairly lame and forgettable... but Jeff Bridges does indeed deserve the Oscar for Best Picture... and the exquisite tapestry of songs woven throughout keeps the mood and the focus on the music... and the life of the musician. I know lots of people like that... driving from town to town in a not-so-dependable vehicle, not quite sure whether the next venue will be a bar or a listening room... and whether the audience will be a handful or a sell-out - it's easy to pendulum from lucky to lonely in the space of 50 miles...

As the hot air balloon scene begins, I heard the first few notes of the tune and elbowed my husband, "that's Townes Van Zandt's If I Needed You"... and felt the delight of validation as the lyrics kicked in to prove me right - later, Bad Blake, strumming his guitar, says, "That's the way it is with good songs: you think you've heard them before."

Dar Williams: If I Wrote You

[purchase]

I had never heard of Townes until I saw Dar Williams live for the first time in mid-January 1998 - he had died the previous January, she spoke briefly of him during the concert... and "If I Wrote You is dedicated to the memory of Townes Van Zandt", as she writes in her End of the Summer liner notes. I have been a fan ever since - he's the king of heartache and my words will never do him justice... but I highly recommend the documentary Be Here to Love Me for an in-depth, behind-the-scenes look at this talented but tortured songwriter...

From a wonderful, but undated, online interview:

Splendid: To me, both "End of Summer" and "If I Wrote You" seemed to be pivotal points in your songwriting, and that your third album marked a point where you were branching out a lot.

Dar Williams: I think you're right about those two songs, absolutely. Especially on "If I Wrote You". I mean, Joan Baez picked that one up immediately.

Splendid: By the way, I'm a big Townes Van Zandt fan, so I was thrilled when I read it was dedicated to him in the liner notes. But where does he play into the song?

Dar Williams: It's not a song about Townes. My manager was a huge fan, and I did start writing it in Austin, and I was writing it in the South, and it had that kind of vibe. And I think I said to my manager, "The way you described Townes... both personally and professionally, it seems like his songs were like his letters to his us, his postcards to us." It seems like, when you were in his company, it was very hard to relate to him, and so it's almost like you needed him to send these missives, and in that way, it did remind me a lot of him in the song. To my mind, the song's about two people with a substance abuse thing going on. And one of them takes off into a different direction. And writes this song basically saying, "I didn't get straight to mock you or tell you what to do with your life. You know, I'm much happier now, but I'd love it for you to feel that you're special, and I need to be honest about the fact that I'm in a much better place than I was, but I don't want to put you down for being where you're at. I never did." And so that's the kind of song you'd want to sing to Townes, 'cause, you know, he did have a big drinking problem. So maybe the thing you'd want to say to Townes is, "I wish you could understand how great you are, and maybe put down the booze," but, then, I'm not on this planet to judge you. And that's why I would never bring it up.

Live: I´ll Be Here In The Morning

Townes Van Zandt: I´ll Be Here In The Morning

[no purchase possible alas; go here to buy all kindsa stuff at Jeanene´s official Townes site]

"There's no stronger wind than the one that blows down a lonesome railroad line,
No prettier sight than looking back on a town you left behind..."

It´s the Late Great from Texas again, a regular in these pages, coming at you live from the Whole Coffee House in Minneapolis back in ´73. High time someone released this show officially, as it´s full of killer performances like this one.

This and That : Pancho and Lefty

Townes Van Zandt : Pancho and Lefty

[purchase]

Remedial lessons in alt. Country, part 2

I discovered this song 8 years ago in a French book by Gerard Herzhaft, one of the only French country music specialists. Now it's one of my favourite songs ever, for its great melody and the enigmatic story it tells. This minor chord at the end of every verse and chorus, and the way the melodic line drops dramatically at that moment, especially when he says "and now he's growing old" fits the disillusion of the lyrics in a perfect way.
Towne's voice is not technically perfect (he often misses notes) but has a great warmth and moving melancholy.

I was playing in a folk band with a friend and we played the song live as a duet (we even recorded a demo), unaware (at least for my part) that Willie and Merle had scored a huge hit in 1983 by doing the same thing.

I read in Wikipedia that the songs' words imply that Lefty has betrayed Pancho and sold it to the cops. I really doubt that. Has anybody heard about that interpretation ?

To me it is a meditation on how we run after our dreams and forget about the rest, just to realize that we're growing old. Maybe Lefty never left Cleveland and made that trip to Mexico in his own head, with his imaginary friend Pancho.

Anyway, I'm sure, like Townes says, that Lefty is the one we should pray for. Aren't we all Lefties when we reach (or get closer to) our fourties ?

But I'm getting melancholic, so I'd better let Townes explain to us the real meaning of the song here

Winter Wonderland: Snowin' On Raton

Townes Van Zandt: Intro to Snowin' on Raton
Townes Van Zandt: Snowin' on Raton

[live, 1995]

Robert Earl Keen: Snowin' On Raton

[purchase]

In the intro track to a 1995 bootleg I picked up somewhere along the way, just before he refers to himself as a “lonely schizophrenic,” we hear troubled singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt says that his song Snowin' on Raton is “about” a mountain pass between Trinidad, Colorado and Raton, New Mexico, “depending on whichever way you're going”. And, on the surface, the song certainly presents as a story of a man on the wrong side of Raton Pass, a national landmark which is usually the best way to get between two lush valleys in the American West, but which is famous for turning treacherous in the occasional winter snowfall.

But perceive the power of metaphor in the hands of a genius: what Townes doesn't say is that in its layered, deceptively deep lyric, and in the lugubrious tone, the tune is, ultimately, a vividly perfect portrayal of restless depression and the drive to escape it. The urge to travel becomes a mechanism for avoidance and forgetfulness; the macrocosm of snow in the pass a clear representation of the fleeting wisps of family and obligation which drag against men trying to keep moving against the wind and weather.

Van Zandt had his demons; at the time of the 1995 recording in question, he was "withered" in the late ravages of alcoholism, and the message of Raton Pass was one he knew well: stand still too long, and your demons catch up with you; though the way holds danger, better to hit the welcoming road the moment the snow lets up. But the power here is in the song as much as it is in the performance. Fellow Texan singer-songwriter Robert Earl Keen proves the point by crooning the same sentiment, with perhaps a little less wistful and a little more weary; it's hard to imagine, but TvZ's original produced recording of this song had a hidden seed of hope in it, too.

The Bountiful Feast: A Dessert Sampler

Townes Van Zandt and Blaze Foley: Girl Scout Cookies

[live and unpurchaseable]

Sarah McLachlan: Ice Cream (live)

[purchase]

Crowded House: Chocolate Cake

[purchase]

Nellie McKay: Cupcake

[purchase]

David Wilcox: Wildberry Pie

[purchase]

It's a tradition of sorts here at Star Maker Machine to end the week with a "clearinghouse" post, one which throws a few disparate songs up to give a sense of the range of possibility still sitting on our "also ran" lists as the clock runs out.

Fittingly, I managed to come up with a few rare and delicious dessert selections for us to fill in the corners a bit as we transition to our upcoming theme; just as fittingly, this coming week's theme will give us a chance to offer up second helpings for those favorite songs which, for one reason or another, never really made it into the themes where they best belonged. Small portions only, folks; you're liable to burst...

Dylan Covers: Man Gave Names to All the Animals

So far this week, we have already seen some of Bob Dylan’s remarkable range as a songwriter. He is equally adept at love songs, political songs that become generational anthems, and who-knows-whats that nevertheless resonate with people. But something interesting happens with “Man Gave Names to All the Animals”. The song was originally included on Slow Train Coming, Dylan’s somewhat notorious album where he embraced born-again Christianity; as such, the song is part of a suite of songs which function as an eloquent expression of faith. Dylan’s arrangement of the song was a rock-reggae hybrid.

But the covers of “Man Gave Names to All the Animals” are mostly by folk artists. Taken out of its original context, and given a softer arrangement, the truth is revealed: “Man Gave Names to All the Animals” is a great kid’s song. Not what you usually think of from Dylan.

Townes Van Zandt: Man Gave Names to All the Animals

[purchase]

Townes Van Zandt is one of those tragic figures who litter the pop music landscape. Mostly known during his lifetime to other musicians, it was only after his death at age 52 that his music began to reach a wider audience. “Pancho and Lefty” is probably his best known song. As can be heard here, he was also a fine singer and guitar player.

Tim O‘Brien: Man Gave Names to All the Animals

[purchase]

Tim O’Brien first gained attention as the leader of the bluegrass band Hot Rize in the 1980s. (If you like bluegrass, and have never heard them, do seek them out.) As a solo artist, and in a duo with his sister Mollie, O’Brien has expanded his sound. His version of ”Man Gave...” is from an album of Dylan covers called Red on Blond.

Blog Names: For The Sake Of The Song

Townes Van Zandt: For The Sake Of The Song

[purchase]

One of my favorite music blogs, For The Sake Of The Song, has been on hiatus of late. Based on the last post before its departure, it should be back soon. A September return was promised, so I've got my fingers crossed.

If it's not already on your radar, make sure you make FTSOTS a regular stop when it comes back. FTSOTS primarily highlights music from the last century. What makes it so great, I think, is the wide range of featured genres, from blues to country to punk (always represented by excellent songs), and the intelligent writing. I've learned a lot there. And it's fun too.

Come back soon For The Sake Of The Song...

By the way, I should point out that the namesake song from Mr. Townes Van Zandt is solid. Really one of the greats. It comes from Townes' self-titled third album released in 1969, which is probably the best place to start with Townes Van Zandt if you are so inclined.

Cars: The Bruce Springsteen Songbook

Patty Griffin: Stolen Car [purchase]

Townes Van Zandt: Racing in the Streets [out-of-print; purchase]

Ani DiFranco: Used Cars [purchase]

Bruce Springsteen: Pink Cadillac [purchase]

Those who listened to the Woody Guthrie original-and-cover set I posted yesterday may have noted the spoken preamble to Bruce Springsteen's version of Riding In My Car, in which he makes a brash, universal claim of primacy to the automobile as a topic for song. Though the challenge to Guthrie which Springsteen brings borders on the overly smug and self-inflated, it is not wrong to note that automobiles are a central image in the urban poetry of Bruce Springsteen.

For Springsteen, the car is a perfect metaphor, encapsulating the dual motifs of escape and commitment to family obligations which pepper his own songbook. And for a guy who has always come across in persona as a shy mechanic who is embarrassed to have accidentally found himself a spokesperson for American culture's blue collar underbelly, the idea of the car, and all it represents, is an especially apt vehicle for greatness.

Cataloguing the entire set of Springsteen's carsongs would be not so much an exercise in futility as a swamp of songs far too broad and long to legitimately fit within the boundaries of ethical blogging. But since I'm a cover blogger at heart, here's a representative sample of some favorite Springsteen covers, from Patty Griffin's slow, sparse take on the spinning wheels and tiger-cage pacing of Stolen Car to Townes Van Zandt's stellar live take on the young man's freedom of Racing in the Street to urban alt-folkie Ani DiFranco's fluid interpretation of the struggling middle-class arrival dreams of Used Car. Plus a single undersung original, just because the brash hillbilly rock of Bruce B-side Pink Cadillac, an Elvis tribute which was performed plenty in his Born in the USA tour in the mid eighties but has since been dropped from the general performance repertoire, is, under all it's top forty sound, a thoughtful narrative of what Bruce himself has called "the conflict between worldly things and spiritual health", especially apt in today's world of shrinking gas reserves and soaring prices.

Any of these, or a dozen more, would make a fitting spokes-song for our aging American troubador, and his ongoing exploration of our cultural fascination with all things vehicular. Feel free to add your favorite Springsteen carsong, cover or original, in the comments.

Footwear: Flyin' Shoes

Townes Van Zandt: Flyin' Shoes

[purchase]

Townes Van Zandt wrote a lot of songs about leaving. Here is one of the best.

Days full of rain
Sky’s coming down again
I get so tired of these same old blues
Same old song
Baby it won't be long
Before I’ll be tying on my flying shoes
Flying shoes
‘Til I’ll be tying on my flying shoes...

Days of the Week: Like A Summer Thursday

Townes Van Zandt: Like A Summer Thursday

[purchase]

I’m a big fan of Townes Van Zandt. This isn’t one of his greatest songs, but it fits the theme and its still Townes.