Storytelling: Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town

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I’m currently reading Kenny Rogers’ new autobiography, Luck or Something Like It. If you’re into music history, it’s a very nice compilation of adages, lessons, experiences and memories along Rogers' road to stardom and fame.

In one anecdote, Rogers tells about how a friend from Mercury Records (Frank Luffell) came to his house to play the Roger Miller recording of a Mel Tillis song entitled, “Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love to Town.” One of the most powerful songs he’d ever heard, Rogers says “this soulful narrative became an anthem for the unseen victims of war, those who were injured but not killed. They were unnoticed and unheralded.”

I did a little further research on the song in the excellent book by Dorothy Hortstman entitled Sing Your Heart Out, Country Boy. She provides song lyrics and comments on them by the artists who wrote them, or a friend or heir. In the case of “Ruby,” Tillis says it was based on a true story of a man from his home town in Florida who had been injured during WWII in Germany and then sent to England to recuperate. He met and married a nurse. Back in the States, his health problems kept recurring, and he became temporarily paralyzed.

Tillis stated, “Ruby stood by him till she could stand it no longer. Then she started fixing her hair, putting flowers in it, painting her lips, and walking back and forth in front of the pool room. She was lonesome, needed attention. She was a good girl, actually, but the way I wrote it. I put the blame on her. At the time, I didn’t know what was going on because I was only 12 or 13 years old. Twenty-three years later, I realized what was happening. I just changed the wars and brought it up to date and wrote the story in about an hour. Eventually, it was a couple of years ago, he killed her and himself too. That’s a true story.”

Even though Kenny Rogers sings about “that old crazy Asian war” in the song, couldn’t it really refer to any conflict, as well as the torment and agony experienced by the bedridden or paralyzed war veteran? Having sung many classic story songs and ballads during his days with the New Christy Minstrels, Kenny Rogers admits a real affinity for the form and says that many of the most memorable songs in both pop and country are ballads like this (from the Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby” to Johnny Cash’s “A Boy Named Sue.”) Rogers declares that, “A story song, to have any impact, demands that you listen to the lyrics and imagine the scenario in your head.” “Ruby” and many other story songs launched Kenny Rogers. Essential listening of his repertoire includes “Lucille,” “The Gambler,” “Reuben James,” “Coward of the County,” and many more.

In his autobiography, Rogers declares, “I guess I was born to sing these kinds of plaintive, often tragic tales.” Because they also had another hit on the radio at the time (“Once Again She’s All Alone”), record producer Jimmy Bowen came up with the wise business decision of putting Kenny’s name in front of his band’s (First Edition) so as to separate the records and get airplay for both. With its topical war reference and tragic narrative about a forgotten solider, “Ruby” went to No. 2 on the charts. Kenny Rogers and The First Edition followed “Ruby” with another successful and compelling ballad called “Reuben James” about a black man raising a white child.

Storytelling: Bourgeois Blues

Taj Mahal: Bourgeois Blues
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When I saw the topic of this week’s post, I said to myself: “...but ...every song has a story”. It may be the story of the author of the song, it may be the story of the performer finding (his) way to the song or to the stage to perform the song, but there’s a story there somewhere.

I am coming online at the last minute this week because I have my own story: my PC crashed and it has taken me all week to get back online. Not only did my PC crash, but we also got hit by lightening, which took out our phone lines.

Ah, such is the state of today’s bourgeois: can’t do nothin’ without a connection to the Intertubes.

In this song, Taj tells us right off the bat that he is going to tell us a story, so it seems fitting that I use this as my "story-telling" posting. In doing so, he follows much more in the tradition of the live performance, where the artist often "intros" the song with a comment - in contrast to the studio recording that it actually is. As you probably know, it is a Leadbelly song, and it relates part of the story behind a night out during his visit to DC, where he was treated (!) to a taste of Washington society’s reaction to a mixed-race ensemble looking for a bite to eat.

Storytelling: Eddie Rode the Orphan Train

Jim Roll: Eddie Rode the Orphan Train

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One of the themes that I seem to explore on this blog is why some performers who I like are popular and successful, and others are not. In 2002, the Amazon.com rock critics published a list of the top albums of the year. Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was #1 (which I agreed with), followed by Peter Gabriel, Elvis Costello and Flaming Lips in slots 2-4. At 6 was Steve Earle, and the top 10 was completed by Beck, Queens of the Stone Age, and Robert Plant. Number 5 was Jim Roll’s Inhabiting the Ball. Jim Roll. The legendary Jim Roll, who filled stadiums and sold millions of CDs. O.K., you probably know that isn’t true. So what is Jim Roll doing on this list?

In fact, Inhabiting the Ball is an incredible album, and I’m glad I took a flyer on it based on the Amazon review. His songwriting is superb, and the music is excellent. I haven’t heard much of his debut album, but his second disc, “Lunette” was produced by Walter Salas-Humara of The Silos, which I have written about previously, and is quite good. For Inhabiting the Ball, Roll joined forces with two well-known novelists, Rick Moody and Denis Johnson, who wrote the lyrics for most of the songs, including the great “Bonnie and Clyde” (a family favorite) and “Inflight Magazines.” Chuck Prophet plays on a few of the tracks.

But my favorite cut is “Eddie,” written all by Roll, based on the life of the grandfather of a friend. It tells the tale of a boy, sent on an “orphan train” from SoHo to Arkansas. Orphan trains were common from the mid-1800s until the Depression. Orphans and abandoned or homeless children from cities in the Northeast were sent to foster homes, generally in rural areas. In some cases, the children were adopted and cared for by their foster parents as family members. But in other cases the children were treated as no more than servants, even slaves. And that was Eddie’s story—he became free farm labor, and nothing more.

When his foster family, surprisingly, had a child, it was given Eddie’s room, and Eddie received nothing in their will. But the story has a somewhat happy ending. Despite this cruel and distant upbringing, and the likelihood that he had rage buried “deep inside,” Eddie “raised his kids with patient eyes detached and mild.” And the narrator named his son Ed, “and like his great grampa he rides trains/at night he rides the iron Ghost, by day he eases someone’s pain.”

The music is simply beautiful Americana, featuring acoustic bass, accordion and banjo, and it sounds timeless.

As best as I can tell, the fifth best rock album of 2002 was Roll’s last. He runs (owns?) a recording studio in Ann Arbor, Michigan and may still perform occasionally. Surprisingly, there is actually a cover of “Eddie Rode the Orphan Train,” by the somewhat more well-known Jason Ringenberg (of Jason & the Scorchers). It is also good, and a bit more twangy. Roll plays on and was a producer of Ringenberg’s “Empire Builders” album, on which the cover appears.

I do think that Robert Plant character will make something of himself someday, though.

Fresh Starts (Just Like) Starting Over

 

John Lennon: (Just Like) Starting Over
D'ville: Starting Over

[purchase Lennon version]

I am one of many SMM contributors and vısıtors with progeny who have once agaın “started again” in a new school year. In actual fact, my child has moved on to the next step: looking for a job in the dismal US employment market, having graduated from university. However, as for me – myself – I continue as an educator/teacher, who, like a number of your contributors here, has just “started again”, as we do every year.

When I first acquired this song, it was on a cassette tape. That was nigh on 30 years ago. That media eventually passed away:  I no longer have a viable cassette player, and I suspect that if I did, the actual (physical) tape would be riddled with dropouts – holes in the plastic media itself. Lucky for me (and you), I liked the “album” so much that I re-purchased it as a CD (paying yet again for something I had already bought once!)

What to say about the man (John Lennon)? Time moves on. Would that he were still here with us (as he should have been). His presence and vision would undoubtedly have made the world a better place.

What to say about this song?

When I heard the topic of this week’s postings, I almost immediately called up this song –seemed like a no brainer: Fresh Starts = (Just Like) Starting Over. What remains to be seen as I post this is whether the powers that be will let you hear my posted song.

I am going to duplicate my efforts by posting both the JL original as well as a reasonably close facsimile from SoundCloud. One (if not both) should work for you. Visit SoundCloud for more from the alternate musician(s): D'Ville out of Atlanta (it seems).

As for the song itself: Starting Over … John Lennon was speaking of relationships, not the school year, when he penned this. For him, it was a period of turmoil in his personal relationships. However, the sentiments/issues cut across employment and emotions:

“let’s take a chance …:” Who knows where it will lead? So true of our education as well as our adult dealings with the world.

Fresh Starts: The Rising

Bruce Springsteen : The Rising

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Today, on the eleventh anniversary of the September 11th attack, it seems apropos to offer up Bruce Springsteen’s poignant title cut from his 2002 album, “The Rising.” The song can be interpreted in various ways, but I’m certain that the profound lyrics deal with optimism even in the worst of circumstances. Springsteen’s artistic sense of purpose and vision always demonstrate strong wordplay, character development and idealism. And, nearly three decades after his masterpiece “Born to Run” was released in 1975, “The Rising” was the great rocker’s contribution of emotion and sincerity to help the Nation heal. The Boss’ first collaboration with the E Street Band in 18 years was an expression of hope and enlightenment. Springsteen’s noble statement in the powerful title cut gives us a definitive call for a fresh start.

To start anew requires a climb of many levels. In “The Rising,” a fireman is climbing a tower, but his calling is also an ascent to Heaven. When the chorus joins with “Come on up, lay your hands in mine. Come on up for the rising,” it’s a beckoning call for unity and a welcome to the other souls rising too. It’s a type of unity that the entire World needs. When Springsteen sings “Li, li, li, li, li, li, li, li, li,” I do believe that he’s referring to another form of blessed life, one to be embraced rather than feared. He reinforces that message with the line about “a dream of life comes to me like a catfish dancin’ on the end of the line.”

Springsteen, the profound storyteller, takes a tragic event of infamy to make a triumphant statement about overcoming death and rising to life on another shore. It’s also a call for awareness of the chain that binds, the sixty-pound stone, and half mile of line that impede us. The song optimistically deals with redemption, sacrifice and courage. Despite all the sadness, tears, sorrow and fear that one may encounter, you should never lose focus of the “dream of life.” That, simply put, is what will result in a fresh start … not only for those directly impacted by tragedy but also for the entire Nation and World as peace, unity, understanding and compassion take hold on a global scale.

Fresh Starts: Solsbury Hill

THE LINK TO THE SONG WAS DISABLED AND THIS POST WAS REMOVED DUE TO A COMPLAINT ABOUT MY POSTING THIS SONG.  I HAVE BEEN A FAN OF GABRIEL'S FOR YEARS, AND HAVE LONG SUPPORTED HIS MUSIC, BY ATTENDING CONCERTS, PLAYING HIS MUSIC ON THE RADIO, BUYING MUSIC AND, AS DEMONSTRATED BELOW, POSITIVELY REVIEWING HIS MUSIC.  AS INDICATED IN THE POST BELOW, "SOLSBURY HILL" IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS.  BY INCLUDING A PURCHASE LINK, I HOPED THAT READERS OF THIS BLOG WOULD LISTEN TO THE TRACK I POSTED AND BUY THIS EXCELLENT ALBUM.  BUT NOW, READERS CAN'T EASILY LISTEN.

AS I NOTED IN THE POST, IT HAS BEEN TWO DECADES SINCE GABRIEL HAS RELEASED NEW MUSIC THAT I HAVE REALLY LIKED.  INSTEAD, HE IS FOCUSING ON REPACKAGING HIS OLD MUSIC OR DOING GENERALLY BAD COVERS.  NOTHING DONE HERE ON GABRIEL'S BEHALF WILL PREVENT ME FROM LIKING HIS (OLDER) WORK, BUT I WILL NOW CERTAINLY THINK TWICE BEFORE I SPEND A CENT ON ANYTHING THAT WOULD PUT MONEY IN HIS POCKET.  I KNOW THAT THIS IS NOTHING IN THE BIG PICTURE, BUT I'M ANNOYED.

I’ve never been able to really answer the questions “What is your favorite band/musician?” or “What is your favorite song?” There are too many of each for me to take a definitive position, but Peter Gabriel and “Solsbury Hill” always appear on my lists, even if it has been 20 (!) years since I have really liked anything that Gabriel has released.

Generally, this song is interpreted as relating to Gabriel’s departure from Genesis at what seemed to be the height of their popularity. That the band, without Gabriel, survived and became significantly more popular is an interesting phenomenon. I’m a fan who likes both versions of Genesis (I refuse to recognize the version with Ray Wilson on vocals), for different reasons. But when Gabriel left the band, there was a real question whether each would thrive.

“Solsbury Hill” appears on Gabriel’s first album, the first of 3 (or 4, for releases outside of the US) titled Peter Gabriel (supposedly modeled after magazines, which have the same title, but different covers and content). It describes his feelings of being in a rut, just “part of the scenery,” and his decision to cut his ties with the band and go off on his own and walk “right out of the machinery.” Many interpretations of the song ascribe his epiphany to seeing a Springsteen concert, but I’ve read an interview with Gabriel where he said that he didn’t think that was true. I’ve also seen interpretations that focus on some biblical/Jesus imagery, which may be real—Gabriel has never lacked for ego and seems interested in religious matters (See, for example, my prior posting about “Supper’s Ready.”)

I hear what some critics have said about the song’s odd 7/4 time signature and its sometimes clunky lyrics, but the song never fails to move me. I know that Gabriel isn’t alone in having felt trapped—in a job, a relationship, a situation—and longing for a way out. To his credit, he was able to do so, make a fresh start and forge a solo career of success and distinction. Most of us, though, do not have that luxury, because we have families that rely on us and bills that have to be paid. So his listeners can be inspired to think about making that leap, even if they never actually make it.

I’ve posted a live version of the song, which I have always really liked. It was released in 1983, before he hit it big with “Sledgehammer,” and the performances on the Plays Live album are incredible. His show at Asbury Park in 1980 is still one of my all-time favorite concerts.

Fresh Starts: Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

Colin Hay: Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

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Colin Hay's fresh start began in 1987, with the release of his first solo album. Fifteen years later, after countless TV and movie soundtrack boosts, he fills minor-league folk clubs and hipster arenas - a true success story of the indie age.

But getting back on track after the huge international success of his first band - yes, he's the guy from Men At Work - took a while. For years, Hay toiled under the radar, on his own pocket label financed by the profits from his previous career. And for the better part of decade, it looked like nothing was going to happen. As he noted in a 2011 interview,

"Men at Work really didn't build a foundational audience. We came in as a pop band with enormous radio success; once that goes away and the band breaks up the audience tends to go away with it. You're left with what you want to make of it. When you start out doing those tours, you start again [and] you tend not to attract a very big number of people. I'd play to a hundred people or sometimes less."

In the middle of this slow burn, just before the curve ticked upwards, Hay released Man @ Work, an album calling back to his roots. The album is, frankly, one of the most beautiful I own, and a full half of the tracks are acoustic revisions of Men At Work songs, making the album a fresh start of its own: a sort of reclaiming of the old through the lens of the new, with stripped down guitar and that hoarse, yearning tenor working through the catalog, bringing regret, honesty, humility and tenderness to songs once heard as wild and raging.

But several of the songs on the album are originals. And in the midst of this hodgepodge of backwards and forwards, you can find Colin's ode to the complexities of starting from scratch, rich with the peace and stillness, the frustrations and quixotic futilities of a career going nowhere, a paean to the man on the shore, his dreams bigger than life, his friends' voices echoing in his ears like the surf, still waiting for his ship to come in.

He's already got a plan, you see. He can see it, just out of reach. It's just that it depends on the world to come to him.

And when, a year later, actor/director Zach Braff decided to champion his work on Scrubs and in the soundtrack to Garden State, it did. The Internet took hold of his songs, and started passing them around. Today, a new generation of fans know Colin Hay as a middle-aged folksinger of sorts, whose ability to put words and soulful sound to the eye of the storm of life is impeccable. He releases his albums on Compass, a label better known for Celtic and folk music. And he seems happy, and at peace.

Some of his younger fans don't even know he was that guy from Men At Work. And maybe that's the way it should be.

What Songs Look Like: Black Cherry

One of the treats of posting videos is that some of them are mini-movies, with a complete (if short) storyline. We know that songs can tell a complete story using lyrics, of course, but watching something unfold visually rather than aurally gives a new angle on things.

Black Cherry, by the j-rock group Acid Black Cherry, is a torch song (and we did a week of those last summer, if I remember rightly). It starts off as a pretty straightforward jazz tune, then kicks into high gear with a high-energy jazz-rock finale…with a twist. A few of the translated lyrics (courtesy of papersnow):

It's all right if you don't love me...since I don't love you, Make me wretched like this! Black Cherry, give it to me...Black Cherry, give me more. Even though the truth is I've always loved you, Our short history...it's just a petty fling on the way to something else, With this, finally, though...once in a while, remember me like this...

The video serves up these emo-angsty words as sung by a female vocalist who is the disputed object of two yakuza (organized crime members), complete with wacky minions. In a highly stylized clip meant to mimic old gangster movies, we don't even have to be able to read the placards to get the drift of the ill-fated card game.

Hats off (and other things, heh!) to A.B.C. and lead singer Yasu for this crazy vid of a great song. Bonus visual kei hairstyling tip: the drummer's spikey 'do is kept in place with white glue.

What Songs Look Like: She's Gone

I really miss posting on SMM, but like so many of us here, I've got no host at the moment. What I really miss is the sheer fun of sharing stuff, so I'm going to take full advantage of Darius's creative theme this week and just have fun with some music.

So what does "She's Gone" look like and do penguin flippers adequately express the emotional loss of the singer's lyrics? If you haven't had the pleasure of seeing this video before, then let me be the first to introduce it to you. Or rather, let's let John Oates introduce it his own bad self, from this 2009 interview:

Well, I’ll give you a little background about what happened with that “She’s Gone” thing. First of all, it was 1973. There was no MTV, there was no outlet for anything like this. You know, it might be one of the first music videos ever made. I really couldn’t say, honestly, but it definitely would be a contender. What happened was, we were asked to lip sync “She’s Gone” for a teenage TV dance show broadcast out of Atlantic City, New Jersey. And we really didn’t want to do that; we didn’t want to pretend to sing the song. It was supposed to be shot in a television studio in Philadelphia. So we thought, with the mindset that we were in at the time – and I won’t say more on that, either…They thought we were completely insane. They actually didn’t air it; they wouldn’t air it. But we had it this whole time, and eventually I leaked it out to the internet, ’cause I just thought the world should see it.

I think in light of how I'm feeling about the music industry at the moment, I share this "Take that, you guys!" attitude.

What Songs Look Like: Money For Nothing

Dire Straits: Money for Nothing

 

Back in the 80s, where I live, we had no MTV - until very recently - at which time it had degenerated so far that it wasn’t worth watching any more. That’s not to say that I was totally out of the main stream: I had friends who would record MTV to VHS cassette and send it to me “over here”, where we would watch the same 60 minute tape again and again trying to gain a sense of “main stream” America. And enjoying the music/media, of course.

Of these early videos, one in particular stands out – trite, but quintessentially classic – partly because of its name, partly because Star Maker has never given enough due credit to the group/the man. From the 1985 album Brothers In Arms: Money for Nothing. Here is Mark Knopfler  - among the guitarists supreme. I have a CD that includes him playing with Chet Atkins: excellent. I have a web-flv of him with Clapton.

I know he’s done much, much more. Dire Straits' “I want my MTV” seems to me to be among the best MTV clips. It’s got graphics that push the limits for the time, the music is timeless…

As Darius said, this was all before the time of what we take for granted as every-day computer generated graphics, so cut the visuals a break accordingly

What Songs Look Like : Independent Woman

Elbow : Independent Woman Part 1

Ten years before they were one of the few bands chosen to perform at the Closing Ceremonies of 2012 Olympic Games, the UK alternative band Elbow recorded an acoustic version of the Destiny's Child #1 hit "Independent Woman, part 1". Like I said it was a #1 hit. One of the biggest songs of the Aughts. But by the turn of the century, I stopped listening to what was on the radio. I had an iPod. I was my own radio station.

So the first time I heard "Independent Woman", the 18th biggest song of the decade, it was this Elbow cover as performed by singing kittens on the viral video seen above. And it sounds nothing like Destiny's Child. I know because I just played their version on YouTube.

Not sure what this says about this digital age in which we live.

But I didn't see Beyonce in London at all this summer.

What Songs Look Like: Binoculars

Julia Nunes: Binoculars

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Last week, I discussed plagiarism, and touched upon the increasingly complicated issues that confront the music industry in the Internet age. The fact that so many contributors to this fine blog have lost their file hosting ability is a result of the tension that exists between copyright and fair use, between the desire of bloggers to expose readers to good music and the right of artists and labels to control distribution of that music. My guess is that most of the musicians whose songs get posted here would not care, if they even knew, and some would probably be happy for the promotion, but there is no way for me to conveniently ask. So, instead of there being some reasonable standard that allows bloggers and critics to post songs, say, for a limited time, or at a low bit rate, we simply post and wait to see whether we get shut down.

When I briefly worked at a record label in the 1980’s, the concern was cassette taping, but that was a hiccup compared to the devastating effect of the web, and Napster and similar services, that have seriously changed the way that music is distributed. You can pretty much find a free download of any song you want, if you look hard enough, and I understand that for most acts, the money comes from performing and merchandise, not the actual music itself. Although the days of small bands getting major label contracts seem long over, it is now possible for a musician to get his or her songs out to the public without a record label at all.

My subject this week is an example of this DIY approach. Julia Nunes is a talented singer/songwriter who became “YouTube famous” by making videos of herself singing, initially covers and then original songs, usually playing the ukelele. The quality of her music and the wit and charm of her videos, set her apart from most independent artists uploading to YouTube, and as a result, her following became pretty incredible.

Remarkably, Nunes’ popularity began while she was a student at Skidmore College. This video, for the song “Binoculars,” about a stalker, puts a spin on Nunes’ path to fame—she asked her fans to send in video of them singing her song, and she edited the footage and added more of herself, in her dorm room, as well as clips of her friends dancing in her room. My son, who seems to get into this blog every other week, was a year behind Nunes at Skidmore, and they met and became friendly. He got himself invited to the shoot through a mutual friend, and he is the tall skinny guy, wearing a blue t-shirt and black Mets cap, in the group dance scenes. (And not to leave my daughter, a talented singer in her own right, out of this post, I’m pretty sure that she started playing the ukelele at least in part because of Nunes).

Nunes’ Internet fame has made it possible for her to release a number of albums, all on her own label, open for major acts, including Ben Folds and Ben Kweller, play at Bonnaroo, and perform on Conan, as well as maintain an active touring schedule. She also continues to upload her charming videos to YouTube and recently recorded a cover of fun.’s “Some Nights” with the band Walk off the Earth. She is a great example of how musicians can succeed in the current market without the backing of a major—or even indie—label with persistence, ingenuity and talent.

What Songs Look Like: Universal Mind Control

Common : Universal Mind Control

[purchase]

No one can dispute the various nuances and colors of music, and I've heard plenty of pieces that qualify as “sound paintings.” Coloring is a function of the music's tone, and the relationship of notes to each other. A “chromatic” music scale literally means that it's colorful.

At the same time, the visualization of a song requires focus, concentration and attention to detail. How many of you find hip-hop or rap music to be a little distracting? Over the years, I've tried to be more open-minded and accepting of all genres of music. If you can stay on course and follow the statement of a song like “Universal Mind Control,” then you can develop a heightened sense of visual perspective. As you listen, twirl the telephoto of your own senses. I've learned to appreciate this kind of music by viewing it both in telescopic detail, as well as with a wide-angle perspective. Universal mind control should be a personal goal anytime we listen to music. It's a result of being mindful and fully aware of what we are hearing and seeing.

As Common sings, “This is that new shit, keep 'em standing in line ... That universal mind control, now move yo' behind.” As you view this sensory video, go ahead and “trance to melodic technotronic.” That'll help you get it. Bop, diggy, bop, d-dang, d-dang, dang.