Postage Paid: P.S. Edition

John Wesley Harding: To Whom It May Concern

[purchase] (scroll down to New Deal)

In August 1997, I began an e-mail relationship with someone through the Dar Williams discussion list - by virtue of our shared love for Dar's music, our correspondence escalated to in-depth cyber-conversations about books, movies, parenting, marriage, and of course other musicians... which led to us sending each other mix tapes through the mail... and, in his first one to me, my new friend included John Wesley Harding's Infinite Combinations. I completely fell in love with the song, and of course had to buy the CD, by an artist I'd heard of but never listened to - I also discovered To Whom It May Concern, another tune that described our long-distance connection. Over 12 years later, we are still in each other's lives, albeit less frequently than before... and we've met up twice (once in 2000 and again six months ago) - never underestimate the power of the written word..

Dar Williams: If I Wrote You

[purchase]

Speaking of Dar, I would be remiss if I didn't include this song for our weekly theme - I've heard her say it was semi-inspired by the passing of Townes Van Zandt. In her words:

"I started writing this song in Austin, Texas, and to me the influence of the area is obvious. There's more open space than in many of my songs, and there is an insinuation that the narrator is clean and sober now, which would describe many Texan songwriters I know today. Larry Campbell's guitar parts and Richard Shindell's harmony made me very emotional for a while, but I'm getting over that."

We‘re About 9: Writing Again

[purchase]

We're About 9 is a twenty-something trio (Katie Graybeal, Pat Klink and Brian Gundersdorf), home-based in Maryland, with literate lyrics (who uses the word concatenate in a song?!?) and stunning harmonies - this tune, written by Brian, underscores the theory that one's best writing is done after experiencing great pain ("this is my letter to tell you the truth, I can't tell if I'm better, I've been thinking about the way most things are difficult to open and easier to close"). I especially love the way the tapping on the guitar simulates a beating heart - reminds me of the quote: "Writing is easy. Just sit at the keyboard and open a vein."...

Postage Paid: Care of Cell 44

The Zombies: Care of Cell 44

[purchase]

The title of this song stretches the theme just a little bit. But the lyrics are the contents of a letter a guy is writing to his significant other, who is locked up in jail. Although the gender of the jailbird is never mentioned, one assumes it's a woman, which makes this a fairly unique pop song, even for 1968. As a single, it bombed.

"Care of Cell 44" is the opening track on the Zombies' magnum opus, Odessey and Oracle. The band's two hits, "She's Not There" and "Tell Her No" were several years old when the they recorded the album in 1967, and it was their final stab at making it big. Unfortunately, the album was pretty much ignored when it was released in the UK, and the band quickly broke up.

Then Al Kooper heard the album and convinced his label, Columbia, to release it stateside. "Time of the Season" was pulled from it as a single and became a huge hit in 1969.

The band (or 3/5 of it) cashed in on its surprise success by recording a follow-up album. In 1991.

Over the years, the rest of Odessey and Oracle has garnered a cult following, and now it's considered a masterpiece. With its sophisticated arrangements, beautiful melodies, and Beach Boys-like harmonies, I wholeheartedly agree.

Matthew Sweet & Susanna Hoffs: Care of Cell #44

[purchase]

A few years ago, Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs recorded an album of covers of some of their favorite songs from the '60s. Their version adds a number sign to the title and changes the gender of the narrator, with Susanna taking the lead.

Postage Paid: Postcard Collection

Postcards are a way of sending a short message, just enough to check in. Their shortness would seem to make them perfect for songs. Here is what three artists do with them.

Wendy Wall: Postcard to the Stars

[purchase]

I have previously told my Wendy Wall story here, and reviewed her latest album here. So suffice it to say, she is a favorite of mine.

Wall’s postcard is not bound for Hollywood. She sends it off into space, to whoever might be listening. The song is a humble account by one example of what it feels like to be human and on earth.

Mark Knopfler: Postcards From Paraguay

[purchase]

Mark Knopfler presents a white collar criminal, on the run and in a hurry. He must leave the scene of the crime now, and has not even the time to send a postcard.

Bare Naked Ladies: Another Postcard

[purchase]

Finally, Bare Naked Ladies find themselves on the receiving end of some very unusual fan mail.

Postage Paid: Please Mr. Postman

The Marvelettes: Please, Mr. Postman

[Purchase]

Yet another definitive postal song that I couldn't let pass by. This song was The Marvelettes', one of the first girl groups of Motown, only #1 song, though they had a number of other top 40 hits. The song was well loved enough to be covered by other popular bands, including The Carpenters and The Beatles. The Carpenters even took it back to #1.

In the song, a girl pleads with the postman to look in his bag one more time to check for a letter for her because it's been so long since she's heard from her man.

Postage Paid: Letter Song

Seigobillies: Letter Song

[currently unavailable]

Hey folks, it's time once again to set the Wayback Machine for New Brunswick, N.J., in the early 1990s. One of my favorite bands from the era were Seigobillies. (The flyer in the photo is from the first time I ever saw them, when they were still called the Seigolillies.) They combined elements of reggae, ska, bluegrass, and what was then called "college rock" into an intoxicatingly danceable mix. On this track from their self-titled debut cassette, they slow the tempo down for a banjo-lead lament that leaves the narrator weighed down by unwritten letters.

Seigobillies went through several changes over the years, but they still exist as Billy. They put out a new album this year. Do check it out.

Postage Paid: Anchorage

Michelle Shocked: Anchorage

[purchase]

"I took time out to write to my old friend
I walked across that burning bridge
I mailed my letter off to Dallas
but her reply came from Anchorage, Alaska..."

I'm a sucker for anything presented in epistolary form: songs, books and even TV shows and blogs - Michelle Shocked does the form justice in her tune of two women, who obviously shared some wild times in Texas, catching up after an over-two-years' lull in communication...

As with most female friendships, you can tell they are close enough such that they pick up just where they left off... with warmth, humor and a genuine desire to find out about, and fill the other in on, what they've been doing - a note of wistfulness creeps in as Chel's friend decries the isolation of her current situation, even as she describes the life she's now sincerely embracing...

"Leroy got a better job so we moved
Kevin lost a tooth, he's started school
I've got a brand new eight-month-old baby girl
I sound like a housewife
Hey Chel, I think I'm a housewife..."

And, as with all good stories, I want to know what happened next - I hope they kept in touch... and I hope they kept on rocking, each in their own way...

Postage Paid: Love Letter

Bonnie Raitt: Love Letter

[purchase]

Bonnie Hayes, like so many others, started life as a musician. In the early 1980s, she fronted a pop-punk band called Wild Combo. But, by 1989, Hayes was looking for other ways to pay the bills. She became a studio musician and songwriter for hire.

In 1989, Bonnie Raitt was a blues musician who had enjoyed a minor hit with a cover of Runaway. Active since the early seventies, Raitt had built a devoted following, but never put up the kind of numbers that major labels like to see.

In 1989, the two Bonnies came together. Hayes was hired to write two songs for the album that would be called Nick of Time. One was Have a Heart. And the other was Love Letter. I find it ironic that the bluesiest song on the album that would finally take Bonnie Raitt up the charts was written by someone whose background was in punk and new wave. But there it is. Love Letter is a smoldering blues love song, and a great showcase for Raitt’s slide guitar playing.

In 1996, Bonnie Hayes went back to Love Letter and recorded her own version. I don’t have it, and I have no idea how good it may be, but if anyone else has it, please feel free to post it in the comments.

Postage Paid: Return to Sender

Elvis Presley: Return to Sender

[Purchase]

It might almost be cliche to post this song since it's such a quintessential mail song, but alas, there are a few oldies but goodies I feel somebody ought to post this week, so I am going to go ahead and post this one to get it out of the way.

This song was a number one single for Elvis. It's a catchy little song that was featured in his film "Girls! Girls! Girls!", about a guy trying to get his lady back by sending her a letter and the letter being returned over and over again with the "return to sender" stamp on it. He finally gets the point when he hand delivers the letter and it still comes back to him. The boy might be a bit dense, but it makes for sweet little tune.

Postage Paid: Please Read The Letter

Robert Plant and Allison Krauss: Please Read The Letter

[purchase]

We have a mail chute of sorts. It's a slot in the outside wall of the house that feeds the box which is inside the wall, that is accessed from a flip door that's inside a closet. The box is narrow and not very accommodating for anything larger than a standard business envelope, and as a result, sometimes our mail gets chewed up in removing it from the box (to say nothing about removing our-self from the closet). That said, it's sometimes better for us to have an empty box than a full one.

Actually posted by Bert, with technical assistance from Darius

Postage Paid: The Letter

The Box Tops: The Letter

[purchase]

"Lonely days are gone, I´m a-going home, my baby just wrote me a letter..." The Letter (´67) by The Box Tops is one of those perfect pop songs. Under the 2-minute mark and deceptively simple, yet complete with majestic horns, strings, and even the sound of an airplane taking off. Memphis soulful, with the heartfelt urgency of a very young Alex Chilton as the cream on the cake. The lad´s just turned sweet sixteen and he scores a number one hit single in U.S.A. e in tutto il mondo!

Impossible under modern circumstances. My baby just sent me an email? My baby just texted my iPhone? My baby just twittered my facebook? No way.

Postage Paid: Death Letter

John Mellencamp: Death Letter

[purchase]

Cassandra Wilson: Death Letter

[purchase]

You may hear that the blues is dead. It has been done to death, and there is nothing more to say. After all, the blues consists of one simple structure, and the lyrics are just someone complaining. Unfortunately, a lot of the blues music that is out these days supports this point of view. But, if you love the blues as I do, you will want to have a rebuttal handy. And here it is.

Consider these two versions of Death Letter. The original is by Son House. A man receives a letter, informing him that his lover is dead. As he reflects on this news, he comes to realize just how much he loved her.

John Mellencamp takes the song and delivers a version that feels old. The arrangement is spare, with no bass that I can hear. The guitar and national steel have knife-like parts that cut through the singers heart. Mellencamp sings this with a passion. His performance makes you wonder how you could have heard him sing all of those hits, and never realized how perfect his voice was for blues. His version burns like a fresh wound.

Cassandra Wilson takes the same song in a completely different direction. Of course, she changes the genders, but that is the smallest part of it. Her version is new, a combination of sounds no one ever thought of before. There is a solo on a tenor banjo. The other instruments create a wall of support that wobbles, reflecting the unsteadiness of the singer’s emotions. And Wilson sings this as a sob. Some of the words almost disappear, as if singing them aloud will make them true.

So here are two different versions of the same song, two completely different approaches. Both are emotionally valid. Taken together, they demonstrate that there is plenty left to do with the blues.

Postage Paid: No Mail Today

Blind John Davis: No Mail Today

[purchase digital only]

We're off to a slow start this week, but that's okay: mail doesn't come on Sundays, and it doesn't usually get delivered on bank holidays, either.

Still, here's something light and bluesy from the back of the dusty stacks, in recognition of the day off from school that so many American schoolchildren and teachers are enjoying. And a bonus cover from a subsequent generation, a bit more folk-blues than Chicagoan Blind John Davis' original boogie woogie jazz lament.

Jorma Kaukonen: No Mail Today

[purchase]

Domestic Violence and Sexual Abuse: The Magdalene Laundries

The Chieftains (with Joni Mitchell): The Magdalene Laundries

[purchase]

“Today, if you walk into the centre of Stephen's Green, just to the right of where a magnolia is stretching in full blossom sits a new wooden bench. On it is a metal plaque enscribed with small faceless heads and the words: ‘To the women who worked in the Magdalen laundry institutions and to the children born to some members of those communities - reflect here upon their lives.' “ - Meadbh Gallagher

There can, perhaps, be no greater violation than when an institution whose ostensible purpose is to protect victims is itself the source of abuse. In Ireland, starting in the early 1800s, institutions were set up by the Catholic church to house “fallen women”, those who had bourn children out of wedlock. Some of these were victims of rape or incest, but all were considered sinners who needed their souls saved. They were put to work in what came to be known as the Magdalene Laundries, and the women came to be known as Magdalens. Of course, Mary Magdalene was a prostitute who was forgiven by Christ. So this all sounds noble, if misguided.

But, in the mid 1970s, part of the High Park Convent in Dublin was sold by its owners, the Sisters of Our Lady of Charity, to developers. At that time, 133 unmarked graves were discovered on the grounds. Denied forgiveness or a Christian burial, this had been the fate of the Magdalens there. An investigation, which eventually involved 250 state supported institutions run by the church, and most of which housed children, was launched. Survivors began to come forward and tell their stories. It turned out that boys in orphanages had been raped. The girls and women, including the Magdalens, were beaten and emotionally abused. One victim reported that the nuns’ weapon of choice for beatings was wooden rosary beads. Another told of punishments that awaited any girl who failed to get her period on schedule. And there is much more.

Although the story began to break 30 years ago, resistance from both the church and the government slowed the flow of information. A commission was finally established, and, nine years later, in May of this year, it issued its final report. In the mean time, laws were passed that shield the perpetrators from punishment for their crimes.

Joni Mitchell caught up with this story in 1994, and wrote The Magdalene Laundries. At that time, the full extent of the abuse was not known. But Mitchell had enough information to create one of her most heartbreaking portraits. The Chieftans had been collaborating with artists from the world of popular music for some time. It is only natural, this being an Irish story, that Mitchell’s song would resonate with them. As a bonus, I have included Joni Mitchell’s original version of the song for comparison.

Joni Mitchell: The Magdalene Laundries

[purchase]

Domestic Violence and Sexual Abuse: Break the Cycle Edition

To wrap up my thoughts on this week's theme, I wanted to span the various ways women (and song) have dealt with domestic violence: confusing abuse with love... getting revenge on the abuser... walking away from the situation to make a better life - as Maya Angelou says, "when we know better, we do better"... and there is much emphasis these days, with the current generation, to Break the Cycle and do things differently...

FIVE THINGS TO SAY TO SOMEONE IN A VIOLENT RELATIONSHIP:
1) It will only get worse.
2) I'm afraid for your safety.
3) I'm afraid for the safety of your loved ones.
4) You don't deserve to be treated this way.
5) There's help when you're ready. Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

The Motels: He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)

[purchase]

Since I do not own, and was unable to find, the original version of this song by The Crystals, I am sharing The Motels' cover - from Wikipedia:

"He Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss)" is a pop song written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King and recorded by The Crystals under the guidance of Phil Spector in 1962.

Goffin and King wrote the song after discovering that singer Little Eva was being regularly beaten by her boyfriend. When they inquired why she tolerated such treatment, Eva replied, with complete sincerity, that her boyfriend's actions were motivated by his love for her. The song was written and intended as a sort of protest song from the point of view of an abused woman. Phil Spector's arrangement was ominous and ambiguous.

“It was a brutal song, as any attempt to justify such violence must be, and Spector’s arrangement only amplified its savagery, framing Barbara Alston’s lone vocal amid a sea of caustic strings and funereal drums, while the backing vocals almost trilled their own belief that the boy had done nothing wrong. In more ironic hands (and a more understanding age), 'He Hit Me' might have passed at least as satire. But Spector showed no sign of appreciating that, nor did he feel any need to. No less than the song’s writers, he was not preaching, he was merely documenting.” — Dave Thompson (AllMusicGuide)

Upon its initial release, "He Hit Me" received some airplay, but then there was a widespread protest of the song, with many concluding that the song was an endorsement of spousal abuse. The song soon became played only rarely on the radio, as now. More here...

Eliza Gilkyson: The Ballad of Yvonne Johnson

[purchase]

From the Austin Chronicle:

In her autobiography, Stolen Life, Canadian Cree Yvonne Johnson spares little in the telling of her life of abuse, incest, rape, physical deformity, poverty, and crime. Yet Johnson, who won't be eligible for parole until 2014, doesn't point fingers, make excuses, or otherwise deny guilt for the murder that got her a life sentence. Instead, she has used the experience to not just rehabilitate herself, but to redeem her battered, brutalized spirit. When Eliza Gilkyson ran across Stolen Life in a Canadian airport, she was stunned.

"I just inhaled it. I knew then I wanted to write her story in song, but I didn't know how to do it right. So much detail; how was I going to get all these elements in, this history of abuse, the murder, how she found herself? How to convey that and the emotion? It was so daunting."

The rest of the article here...

Kristina Olsen: Keeping This Life of Mine (Song for Battered Women)

[purchase]

This song won the New Folk songwriting contest at the prestigious Kerrville (Texas) Folk Festival in 1985 - in Kristina's words:

"I wrote it about a friend of mine who was in an abusive relationship. She ended up in the hospital and at that time realized she had to get away from this very abusive man, but she had no self-esteem left. She finally said, "I'm keeping this life of mine" and walked away. I was so impressed with the courage it took her to do that that I wrote this song from her point of view. The nice tag to her story is that she's doing great now."

Domestic Violence and Sexual Abuse: Strong Enough

Sheryl Crow: Strong Enough

[purchase]

On the face of it, Sheryl Crow's 1993 triple-Grammy debut doesn't seem to speak explicitly to this week's theme. But as I alluded to at our week's beginning, the threat of domestic violence lurks constantly in the way society portrays gender relationships.

As evidence, I note that I have always wanted to hear a male voice cover Strong Enough, with no other changes to the lyrics save one: changing the repeated refrain "Are you strong enough to be my man?" to "Am I strong enough to be your man?"

It's a different song, to be sure, when the roles are reversed - a song of masculinity, sarcastic and sensitive all at once, with undertones of anger against so many women's acceptance of violence as strength. But as an exercise, it also reveals the violence Crow's original narrator owns throughout. That it requires re-thinking the song to see this reveals how easily we overlook or excuse violence as just part of the gender dynamic of modern culture. We are all, in the end, part of the problem.

Which is to say: although my own gender-transformed lyrics reveal an interesting sense of self-as-perpetrator, aware and unapologetic, just under the surface, until someone with a strong, sensitive baritone takes on my challenge to cover the song, Strong Enough already contains its particular violence. Specifically, it is one of those rare songs which positions the female as offender, thus showing that domestic violence is not, in the end, a "woman's issue", but a human one.

Here's the lyrics, as modified for a male delivery.

God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I'd be the last to help you understand
Am I strong enough to be your man?

Nothing's true and nothing's right
So let me be alone tonight
Cause you can't change the way I am
Am I strong enough to be your man?

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave

I have a face I cannot show
I make the rules up as I go
It's try and love me if you can
Am I strong enough to be your man?

When I've shown you that I just dont care
When I'm throwing punches in the air
When I'm broken down and I can't stand
Will I be strong enough to be your man?

Lie to me
I promise I'll believe
Lie to me
But please don't leave...

Millions of men both gay and straight become victims of domestic violence each year, though numbers are hard to collect, as men are notoriously shy of reporting. For help and more information, online resources for and about battered men are available at MenWeb.

Domestic Violence : Family murder-suicide edition

Suicide : Frankie Teardrop

[purchase]

Doc & Merle Watson : The Lawson Family Murder

[purchase]

Two songs which are worlds apart musically, but which deal with the same subject : how men suddenly go amok and kill their whole family before comiting suicide. The first song by Suicide is probably one of the most frightening pieces of music ever made with its cold synthetizers and Alan Vega's inhuman screams.

The second one is a topical folk song about a real murder committed in 1929 by a tobacco farmer in North Carolina (the Watsons home state). Doc Watson took it from the Stanley Brothers. In contrast with Suicide's brutality, he sings it with a gentle voice and on a peaceful 3/4 beat, which make the story even more terrible.

While in the Suicide lyrics the killer acts out of desperation, the reason why Charlie Lawson killed his whole family is still mysterious, although there have been rumors of incest in the family, as you can see here.

Domestic Violence and Sexual Abuse: Dream, My Girl

Jo Serrapere: Dream, My Girl

[purchase] (scroll down to My Blue Heaven)

I first heard Jo Serrapere, a musician from the Detroit area, at our 1999 South Florida Folk Festival, where Dream, My Girl won the songwriting competition for "Best Ballad" - it's a contemporary song that sounds traditional, a lulling yet starkly-told tale of a woman who endures abuse for twelve years, never giving up the dream that "someday the burden will cease"... and it does...

Three women are killed by a current or former intimate partner each day in America, on average.

Domestic Violence and Sexual Abuse: You Don’t Have to Take It (Like I Did)

Gaye Adegbalola: You Don‘t Have to Take It (Like I Did)

[purchase]

I’m going to tell a story. It may not seem to have anything to do with our theme or this song, but bear with me. I promise, there is a connection.

When I was just entering my teenaged years, my oldest brother told me and my other brother something. He was in quite a state, and he had to tell someone. I don’t think he felt that he could talk to my parents about it. One of his best friends had had a bad trip, “flipped out on acid” as they said then. Said friend wound up being institutionalized, and as far as I know, he was never right again. My brother told all of this in more detail, and it was clear how shocked he was. I don’t know to this day if my brother had any intent, other than getting this off his chest, but the story had I powerful effect on me. When my opportunities to experiment with drugs came, I never tried anything stronger than weed. And this was why.

As I said, I don’t know if my brother had any intent. But there is certainly intent behind our theme this week. And I feel sure that many of the songwriters we are hearing this week had an intent. Gaye Adegbalola, with You Don’t Have to Take It (Like I Did), hopes that by sharing her story, she can save at least one other woman from falling into the same trap that she did. It is my fondest hope that our posts this week will serve the same purpose.

Incidentally, the other lead voice on this track is Rory Block.

Domestic Violence and Sexual Abuse: Behind the Wall

Tracy Chapman: Behind the Wall

[Purchase]

I thought a good follow up to Suzanne Vega's "Luka" would be to post Tracy Chapman's "Behind the Wall". I wasn't able to find any internet confirmation, but I was always told that this song was Tracy's response to "Luka". The song is a haunting a cappella song from the perspective of Luka's neighbor, to whom Luka is speaking in Vega's song.

Like in the song, in reality, many outsiders feel helpless to do anything when confronted with domestic abuse around them. We are either silenced by social rules that tell us to stay out of other people's affairs, or we reach out only to find our attempts fail because the powers that be are unwilling or unable to step in.

Domestic Violence & Sexual Abuse: Southern Can Is Mine

Blind Willie McTell: Southern Can Is Mine

[purchase]

Sometimes, needing a break from the music, I'll turn on the police scanner for a diversion. The amount of calls to law enforcement for domestic violence is never ending.

A little research on the subject revealed that the difficulty in determining the precise numbers for domestic violence in the U.S. is that incidents often go unreported, there is no organization that collects information from local police departments about substantiated calls and reports, and there is disagreement about just exactly what should be included in the definition of domestic violence. However, there is data and estimations. One yearly estimate I read is 2 to 4 million U.S. women will be assaulted by a domestic partner. It is also estimated that physical violence will occur yearly in the United States in 4 to 6 million intimate relationships. Nearly 2 out of 3 women know their attacker. Women are 5 to 8 times more likely than men to be victimized by an intimate partner. According to the American Medical Association, almost 100,000 days of hospitalizations, almost 30,000 emergency room visits, and almost 40,000 visits to a doctor occur yearly in the U.S. as a result of domestic violence. Staggering.

Keeping someone in a state of fear, intimidation and control are also forms of domestic violence. And that is the premise of this song by "Blind Willie" McTell (also recorded by The White Stripes in 2000). Control by intimidation with threatening violence. Even though McTell recorded this in '31, this kind of mentality is still, sadly, very much alive in the United States. Stop The Violence.