Reflection sings Sydney Carter: “Standing By The Window”

Thank God, or somebody, or nobody at all, Christmas, though less than a month in the past, is now pretty much forgotten. 

One can still get a shiver thinking about all the rotten novelty songs blasted at us, including the irritating solo works by Lennon and McCartney (“Happy Xmas War Is Over” and “Wonderful Christmastime”). There were tedious novelties (“Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer") and billiously cheerful pesterings like “Sleigh Ride” and "We Wish You A Merry Christmas." It was overkill on "Holly Jolly" Burl Ives, the idiotic "Feliz Navidad," and new pains in the ear like self-parodist William Shatner reciting "Winder Wonderland."

Nasty alternative songs have been few.  Stan Freberg, anyone? No. Not at all. You'll hear The Pogues once too often (and twice is too often). Somehow gutter trash from Ireland quarreling in a drunk tank in New York City amuses people. This isn't even an anti-Christmas song, since people LOVE it so much. It's more like Brecht & Weill reeking of corned beef and potatoes.

It would be nice if some alternative radio station or some Spotify playlist slipped in “Standing By The Window,” recorded by Reflection back in 1968. The album is named after the cunning and punning Carter poem, “The Present Tense,” which reflected on our age of anxiety. Spoken with eerie sound effects, it opens the album, which segues into "Standing By the Window."
The male and female leads of Reflection (the name of the group and also their record label!) do a fine folk-rock job mixing desultory verse and haunting chorus. It goes exactly like this, and you can strum along to a simple A minor and G, with a dash of D minor and E: 

No use knocking at the window, there is nothing here for you, sir,
All the rooms are let already, there is nothing left for you, sir. 

Chorus:
Standing in the rain, knocking on the window, knocking on the window on a Christmas day
There he goes again, knocking on the window, knocking on the window in the same old way

No use knocking at the window,  some are lucky, some are not, sir,
We are Christian men and women,  and we're keeping what we've got, sir.
No, we haven't got a cradle,  no, we haven't got a stable,
We are Christian men and women,   always willing, never able.
Christ, the Lord, has gone to heaven,  one day he'll be coming back, sir,
In our house he will be welcome,  but we hope he won't be black, sir.
Wishing you a merry Christmas, we will all go back to bed, sir,
Till you woke us with your knocking, we were sleeping like the dead, sir. 


 Reflection was Sue McHaffie, Mo Brown, Richard Spence, Jonathan Jones, Michael Campbell and Stuart Yeates on vocals. The backing musicians included James Etheridge, Michael Campbell, Colin Wright, Nik Knight and Lionel Browne. The eclectic group also tossed in some oboe (Lesley Bateson), flute (Marion Banks), Cello (Stuart Yeates), and even a celeste (from lead vocalist Sue McHaffie). Despite the somewhat bitter lyrics here, Reflection was a religious record label, and Sue McHaffie appears on two other Reflection releases, “A Folk Passion” (which includes the songs “Come to the Cross” and “Jesus the King”) and “Nativity” which includes “Sing High with the Holy” and “To Jesus On his Birthday.” These were issued in 1971 and 1972.  

The group’s 1968 album of Carter songs did include “Lord of the Dance,” and in the album notes, a shrug that “classification of Sydney Cater’s songs is self-defeating.” Yes, quite true of an album that includes both “Every Star Shall Sing a Carol” and “The Vicar is a Beatnik.” And the stinging track below. Again quoting from the liner notes, “It is the genius of Sydney Carter that his songs have this ability to make us face and question our innermost thoughts and conflicts.”  

While some find comfort in singing “Rock of Ages,” Carter joked about carrying around his “rock of doubt,” (the title of his book). His songs about the hypocrisy of religion made those who loved his lyrics to “Lord of the Dance” feel uneasy. One of the crowns in his thorny canon is “Friday Morning.” The poem first published in 1960 instantly outraged the conservative U.K. politician and one-time Minister of Health Enoch Powell. The Daily Mirror joined in, demanding the poem be banned because of lines such as: “‘It’s God they ought to crucify instead of you or me,’” I said to the carpenter a’ hanging on the tree.” 

The less inflammatory songs of Carter would turn up on “Lovely in the Dances,” a 1981 all-star collection of covers led by the lovely Maddy Prior.  Carter also got some royalties from the comic sewer song “Down Below,” which was recorded by both Ian Wallace (who also had hits with Flanders & Swann novelties) and by Rolf Harris. 

Over these past 50 years, since Reflection recorded their album of covers, it’s mostly been the general satires (“The Rat Race” for example) and the more genial and Christmas-type numbers that have kept Carter’s name alive. His name is alive but he isn't -- born in 1915, he died in 2004 at the age of 88. 

STANDING BY THE WINDOW - no dopey passwords, no creepy "anonymous" download site or Russians, no porn ads, no Paypal donation whining

The National Anthem of Luxembourg - 60 seconds of Tribute

For those of you asking, "When are you going to post another photo of some sexy bint..."

For now, make do with Natascha Bintz, a lovely beauty contest-winner from Letzebuerg. That's Luxembourg, to you.

She might not be the most famous person alive and well and living in Luxembourg...but who is?

When was the last time boxing's famous announcer Michael Buffer paused and said at a heavyweight championship fight…"And now…the National Anthem of Luxembourg…"

It's not a rhetorical question. Go ahead, leave a comment. All I know is that when that weasel David Haye and his warthog pal Dereck Chisora weren't sanctioned for a British championship fight (because of bad behavior…both being idiots), it was the little-known Luxembourg boxing federation that offered to "legitimize" the match. But I don't recall that the Luxembourg anthem was played.

I recall Jean-Pierre Coopman was "The Lion of Flanders," but…no, he was Belgian. And he lost rather badly to Muhammad Ali.

Many of you actually HAVE heard the National Anthem of Luxembourg, even though you never saw any sporting event. How? You saw the "Le Clerq" episode of M*A*S*H. In that one, a soldier from Luxembourg went missing, and when presumed dead, the national anthem was played in his honor. Colonel Blake was proud to honor "a Luxemburger."

Oh, the memories the National Anthem of Luxembourg has stirred!

What brought all this on? Well, back when record collecting was fun, I bought just about anything and everything. This included an import on the Collection Loisirs/Vogue label, of "Hymnes Nationau." Why not? How interesting to hear how 20 nations represented themselves via music. (America, we note, chose a British drinking song with fresh lyrics!)

I came across the album the other day. Well, no, I can't say I was that excited. Actually I was just looking through one of my weirder shelves of instrumentals and was surprised I hadn't gotten rid of "Hymnes Nationau" by now. Especially since Ms. Bintz' image is not superimposed on it. I was glad I hadn't, as it was an amusing diversion for a while. Besides, you never know when you're going to need to find a way to make a foreigner momentarily stop and stand still.

The tune is titled "Ons Heemecht" ("Our Homeland") and premiered rather late for a national anthem: 1864. The music is by Jean Antoine Zinnen and matched to a slightly earlier Luxembourgish poem by Michel Lentz. There are official German, English and French translations. The English translation begins…

"Where the Alzette flows through the meadows

 The Sura bathes the rocks;

 Where the Moselle, smiling and beautiful

 We made a present of wine

 This is our country for which we risk everything on earth..."

Ok, so it doesn't rhyme...if you really are respectful, you sing it in Luxembourgish. Feel free to download the lyrics from some website or other, and sing along to this instrumental version. It's conducted by Désiré Louis Corneille Dondeyne, who will soon be celebrating a birthday: July 21, 1921.

Let's Salute... LUXEMBOURG

FAREWELL TO STOMPIN' TOM CONNORS

One of the legends of Canadian folk music, Tom Connors (February 9, 1936 – March 6, 2013) released over 20 albums of original material, and wrote over 250 songs. I know: "name one of them." Well, if you ask such a question, you're obviously not Canadian.

Otherwise, you'd instantly say "The Hockey Song," or "The Consumer" (the theme song for the CBC series "Marketplace). He had #1 hits with "The Ketchup Song," "Big Joe Mufferaw" and "Moon Man Newfie." He was also known for "Sudbury Saturday Night" and for his breakthrough tune, the Top 30 "Bud the Spud" in 1969. His last significant hit single was "Canada Day Up Canada Way" in 1989, his first one to crack the Top 30 since 1973.

He was a prolific bastard, this son of unwed teen Isabel Connors and her boyfriend Tom Sullivan. Isabel couldn't take care of the boy, and his adoptive parents didn't do much better, so the wild roaming lad took off at age 15 to become a traveling troubadour. He learned Canada's folk songs and performed them with rousing enthusiasm. His nickname came from the old folkie habit of keeping time with a powerful foot…which led him to say "It's just a stage I'm going through!" He eventually brought a "stompin' board" with him to protect the venue's flooring.

Connors was not well known outside Canada, and liked it that way. First off, his material was steeped in the country's jargon, and secondly, his brand of very ethnic folk was not too commercial beyond his country's borders. This will be obvious when you download "Bud the Spud," which is not only aggressively "folkie" in melody and performance, but requires an interpreter who can explain the slang. Slightly more accessible is the traditional "Farewell to Nova Scotia." Elsewhere on the blog you'll find an entire essay about that song.

One of the only times Tom appeared on American TV was in 2004, only because Conan O'Brien had brought his show to Canada for a week and was eager to book crowd-pleasers his live audience would enjoy. He was lucky Connors didn't find any reason to object, because the feisty folky often warred with any figures of authority. He feuded with the CBC, who ultimately turned down a TV special the beloved singer-songwriter had financed. He also had a running feud with the Juno Awards (Canada's version of the Grammy) and returned the six statues he won: "You can give them to the border jumpers…maybe you can have them presented by Charley Pride. I feel that the Junos should be for people who are living in Canada…." Connors deliberately went on a nearly decade-long hiatus from recording. He also snubbed the Canadian Country Music Hall of Fame when they attempted to honor him. He liked to control his work and release it his way…a reason why he ultimately recorded for the label he helped create, Boot (what you Stomp with, get it…) Among his albums through the years:

"The Northlands' Own Tom Connors" (1967), "Stompin' Tom Meets Big Joe Mufferaw" (1970), "Stompin' Tom and the Hockey Song" (1972), "Stompin' Tom Meets Muk Tuk Annie" (1974), "The Unpopular Tom Connors" (1976), "Stompin' Tom is Back to Assist Canadian Talent" (1986), "More of the Stompin' Tom Phenomenon" "(1991), "Dr. Stompin' Tom Eh?" (1993), "Stompin' Tom and the Hockey Mom" (2004), and "The Ballad of Stompin' Tom" (2008).

Connors' health was fading toward the end, a fact he noted on his website: "I want all my fans, past, present, or future, to know that without you, there would have not been any Stompin' Tom," he wrote in his farewell. "It was a long hard bumpy road, but this great country kept me inspired with its beauty, character, and spirit, driving me to keep marching on and devoted to sing about its people and places that make Canada the greatest country in the world….I must now pass the torch, to all of you, to help keep the Maple Leaf flying high, and be the Patriot Canada needs now and in the future.''

Stompin' Tom Farewell to Nova Scotia

Recorded live BUD the SPUD

OBNOXIOUSLY CENSORED "Rajah of Astrakhan" - Mighty Absalom

What the fuck?

Anyone buying a dirty record is not going to be offended by dirty language! That's the point of getting the god damned fucking record! Jesus Shit!

My guess is just before "The Mighty Absalom Sings Bathroom Ballads" was released, some frightened bunny at the record label thought, "It's got obscene words on it. A record store owner could be arrested. WE could be arrested!" The songs could've been re-recorded (perhaps in the style of Rambling Syd Rampo, who used nonsense verbs like "wurdling"). Instead, a sound engineer inserted loud BEEEEEEPS over every bad word.

Sung to the tune of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," the choice sample from the album is "Rajah of Astrakhan." It's just a typical "bawdy" song but instead of hearing something about titties, you might get tinnitis. Weirdly, over in the U.S., Ed McCurdy and Oscar Brand released many similar albums, sans censorship.

Fortunately for Mighty Absalom, after breaking in the easy way, via smut, he was able to work his way upward. At this point he considers this 1965 effort, done when he was 25, a forgettable debut, and his website discography declares, "you don't want this one!"

In 1968, now billed simply as Mike Absalom, he released the quirky album "Save The Last Gherkin for Me." He started and ended the 70's with more oddities, including "Hector & Other Peccadillos" and "The Great Grombolian Connection." He recalls, "I played the Royal Albert Hall, appeared on "The Old Grey Whistle Test"…the 1970s were an all night party that spilled over into the days. Afterwards I spent a lot of time on mountaintops ironing out the hangover. I passed the next quarter of a century in Canada. In tune with the solid decorum of that country, I calmed down and became a pillar of the local community. During those years, I made my living as broadcaster, children’s entertainer, puppeteer, harpist, fiddler and Celtic bandleader. I also wrote newspaper articles, did performance poetry and toured North and South America as the male member of an all girl harp group. For a while, I resided in Paraguay where I studied harp and got up to no good, which, after Canada, was certainly worth it. I was dysfunctional and quite happy with the world and myself…I crossed back home over the Atlantic…Now I paint."

For much more, check out the MikeAbsalom dot.com. To hear the evils of censorship, rather than the delights of the flesh...

Sapristi! Download the Mighty Absalom's heavily censored... RAJAH OF ASTRAKHAN

BURL IVES SINGS BOB DYLAN

One of the pioneers of pop/folk was Burl Ives. While today he's considered one of the Jimmy Crack Cornies, he was one of the important champions of our American musical heritage. He sang "The Wayfaring Stranger," though from his profile, he was no stranger to wafering.

Along with Pete Seeger and the Smothers Brothers, he knew "The Times They Are a Changin'" and went from songs about Aunt Rhody and the fox in the henhouse to protest material. But in Burl's case, nobody was buying. His older fans didn't want him doing Dylan songs, and hard boiled Dylanologists couldn't believe that the old Burl'd egg had anything to offer. But if you listen to his versions of Dylan, well, they aren't that far off from Dave Van Ronk, and he had the same sincerity as a more respected old singer such as Ewan MacColl.

Ives' album "The Times They Are a Changin'" (1968) was a bold move coming after such middle-of-the-road discs as a show tunes collection ("Burl's Broadway"1968), religious tune compilation ("I Do Believe" 1967) and such hot and cold items as "On the Beach at Waikiki" (1966) and "Have a Jolly Christmas" (1966). He does offer some of the play-safe tunes middle-of-the-roaders liked: "Little Green Apples," "Gentle on My Mind" and "By the Time I Get to Phoenix." There's also a pretty creepy cover of "Maria," which has the cringeworthy line, "little girl, I'd make ya mine," which you don't want to hear from an old fat guy. The idea of an elderly, affluent, long-established actor and star singing the homesick "Homeward Bound" is a tad depressing.

But then there's the credible "Don't Think Twice It's All Right," a very interestingly intimate "One Too Many Mornings" and an undeniably poignant "The Times They Are a' Changing," which gains extra weight coming from an old singer getting behind the generation's Young Turk. In other words, ya need to give some respect to "Big Daddy."

BURL IVES : THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN'

Update November 2011: Rapidshare deletes files if they aren't uploaded often enough to suit them. A few individual songs have been re-upped individually via a better service:

BURL IVES : ONE TOO MANY MORNINGS
BURL IVES : THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN'

ROSH HASHANAH: "Tangled Up in Blue" BOB DYLAN

Today (September 19th) is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.

A New Year implies regeneration, and Bob's noted for revitalizing his old songs when he revisits them. Bob's newest version of "Tangled Up in Blue" (this soundboard version is from a July 2009 show) features a sneaky blues that does a chromatic strut up and down the scale. It turns a formerly bitter folk tune into some kinda jitterbug rag. He's also rhyming "Tropicana" with "Atlanta" where we once heard "Topless place" and "Side of her face."

Those thinking Bob's voice is a bit shot will not find that much evidence here; he sings this one with sly enthusiasm and less of a morbid croak. Bob will be releasing a holiday album shortly...of Christmas songs. Which makes about as much sense as putting tinsel on your tegelach. But Bob has always had a unique vision that, over time, is usually proven to be wise and/or profound. So a cheerful Muppet growl of "Here Comes Santa Claus" from the former Mr. Zimmerman, could just be the surprise hit of the season. If it isn't, he may have something to atone for next Yom Kippur.
TANGLED UP IN BLUE 2009 VERSION

The Whiskeyhill Singers Live '62

Dave Guard had left The Kingston Trio (replaced by John Stewart) to forge new trails in folk music. The trail got muddied. The name of his new group suggested that he was going to booze it up and sing numbers even stupider than "Tijuana Jail." The group's cover of "Railroad Bill" suggests as much

Most of the other tracks on their ill-fated album veer wildly from irritating unauthentic ethnic tripe ("Salomila") to the morbid ("Plane Wreck at Los Gatos") to nitwit novelty ("We're the World's Last Authentic Playboys") to the lone highlight, Big Judy Henske's solo on the traditional blues, "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out."

There were high hopes for the group. They were given a strong build-up and were featured in Life Magazine (photo above, lightly colorized, referencing "Railroad Bill.") Aside from that song, nothing was too funny and Judy fled the group while they were recording material for a second album (which was never released).

She turned up on Elektra with a first album recorded live and brimming with the eclectic tastes, wild humor, and bold musicianship that somehow had not come together for "The Whiskeyhill Singers."

Performing live, you can hear that they could put the hoot into hootenanny, and if nothing else you'll get a sense of their ebullience as they roar through the ridiculous ("Railroad Bill") and the overripe ("Salomila") with a little something extra in between.
WHISKEYHILL SINGERS LIVE IN 1962

REMEMBER THE ALAMO march 6

A few days ago, March 6th, as they've done since 1836, very few people remembered the Alamo.
So why break the illfolks tradition of posting on a 9, 19 or 29, just so a straggling few might actually remember the Alamo on the right date? To use a well known Native American expression: Feh.
In case you don't remember, for thirteen painful days, Feb. 23 to March 6, less than 200 Texans held off about 2000 Mexicans (the number is 5,000 in the "Ballad of the Alamo").
This brings to mind a joke.
A stewardess comes rushing down the aisle of a small plane, announcing, "We're losing altitude. Three people will have to jump from the plane in order to steady it! Who will make this sacrifice?"
A British citizen stood up and proclaimed, "There will always be an England," and jumped. A Frenchman cried out, "Vive La France," and jumped. A burly Texan stood up and shouted "Remember the Alamo!" And he pushed a Mexican out of the plane.
Students...
A key fort in the territory war between "Texians" (citizens of what is now Texas) and Mexicans was San Antonio's Alamo. Two men later to be legends (with TV shows about them, the ultimate honor) helped defend it; James Bowie who was among the first to request reinforcements, and Davy Crockett, who with a few volunteers was among the very few to heed the call. Colonel Travis was in command. As the massive Mexican army began to wear down the Americans, legend has it that Travis drew a line in the sand with his sword, offering any man the chance to step over it and escape certain death.
Death came for the surviving Alamo fighters on Sunday, March 6th, when the Mexicans surrounded all four walls of the Alamo and poured in, allowing no surrender. Bowie, who had taken ill many days earlier was slaughtered on what became his death bed.
"Remember the Alamo" became a rallying cry, and the rest is indeed history, for the Mexicans would never again come pouring over the borders into the United States. Right?
Well, let's not be too down on immigrants. Immigrant Dimitri Tiomkin wrote some of the most authentic Western music in the history of movies, including "High Noon" and his theme for John Wayne's "The Alamo." His song "The Ballad of the Alamo" became a semi-hit, with Marty Robbins' version edging a cover by Bud and Travis.
The original tune is sort of a lame hoedown, telling the story in an almost Disney-jolly kind of way (Crockett was already a Disney hero and hit song subject).
The Robbins version clocks at 3:44, and tries to tell the complete story, with a bugle playing "Taps" toward the end.
Bud & Travis shoot it down to 2:48, stepping up the tempo and cutting away some of the flabbier lines of story-telling.
The Alamo to remember is from Bud and Travis a duo that once came to nosebleed blows because they disliked each other so much. But could they harmonize? Why, like the Kingston Trio with one guy missing. They sure could.
This version packs cinematic punch, pulsing and poetic, with fierce guitar-slapping percussion (ironic...that's a Mexican guitar trick, not an American one) and the periodic blood-spills of swirling violins. It doesn't let up enough for the music's punchline (the melody line from "Taps" as we mourn the men "asleep in the arms of the Lord") but that's a minor flaw in an otherwise brilliant piece of folk-rock glory. And this take is in stereo!
In mono, you also get a very, very rare alternate take. It's got an identical music track, but a slightly different vocal from Bud and Travis. They aren't quite as focused on this take, not always in synch either. But in the interest of collector-obscurity and morbid curiosity, you can now own it.
You also get two versions of "Remember the Alamo" (Cash and Leatherwood) which concentrates on the Travis "line in the sand" legend.
"Ballad of the Alamo" is represented by Marty Robbins, Bud & Travis, Terry Gilkyson and an instrumental version by the Ned Nash Orchestra. Plus there's the lyrical "coda" from the original soundtrack, a summing up featuring a chorus and the orchestra led by Dimitri Tiomkin.

ALAMO

Update November 2011: Several individual songs have been re-upped individually:

Bud & Travis stereo
Bud & Travis rare alternate take mono
Frankie Avalon "Ballad of the Alamo."

Download or listen on line. No pop-ups, porn ads or use of sleazy companies that pay a percentage to bloggers for their "hard work." The hard work was done not by upping files, but by the original writers and performers.

Green Green Grass of Home - over 40 Versions

Yes, if you download both parts, you will get OVER FORTY versions of "Green Green Grass of Home."

Maybe that's almost like getting a death sentence.

But...this song has transcended its sentimentality and lousy ending. It's a true classic. It's the masterpiece of veteran songwriter Curly Putman (who wrote or co-wrote over 400 tunes, and had a co-writing hand in some of the most achy-breaky songs of all time, including "D.I.V.O.R.C.E." and "He Stopped Loving Her Today" and "Wino the Clown").

Cringeworthy? What's more cringeworthy than a burly country star talking about getting off a train "and there to greet me is my mama and my papa." And yet everybody from gritty Merle Haggard to burly Burl Ives to spooky Jack Palance has sung that line.
What's more of a mediocre cliche than having a girlfriend named Mary who's got "hair of gold and lips like cherries?" If she really did, God would she be repulsive. Besides, "Mary" and "Cherries" is a lousy rhyme. (So is "padre" and "daybreak," but at least it's interesting.)
And finally, let's be honest, the worst cop-out in any short story is "it was all a dream."

Yet "Green Green Grass of Home" has served as both a weepy example of C&W drama, and even a protest against capital punishment (the Joan Baez version most notably, here represented by a rare live TV version). The song was a crossover hit for Tom Jones, was overbaked into opera by Katherine Jenkins, has been sung in all kinds of improbable languages, and even parodied by Ben Colder (Sheb Wooley's drunken alter-ego).

Now why, baby, why, would you want to wade through FORTY versions?
In part one, you might want to check on the way Pitney, Laine, Rogers, Twitty, Brown, Jones and other C&W veterans choose to either sing "I was only dreaming" or, for dramatic effect, speak those lines. You might want to note which ones use a backing choir, which ones add squeamy steel guitar, and which ones either string up the tempo or hang it gently. Then there are the ad-libs..."I was only dreaming" or "I must have been dreaming."
There's also a question as to where the prisoner is confined. It's usually "four gray walls" but for Joan Baez, "cold clay walls" and for Johnny Cash, "cold gray walls." It's just plain "gray walls" for Kenny Rogers and "four walls" (no color) for Jack Palance.
Part two concentrates on the more disturbing, offbeat and ill versions of the song. There are lots of women here, from Bonnie Guitar, who shifts the song into the third person, to Margareta Pasiaru, who sings it as "Ce dor imi e sa flu acasa lar." There are Italian cover versions and Spanish cover versions (L' Erba Verde Di Casa Mia and Os Verdes Campos da Minha Terra) as well as Jan Malsjo's "En sång en gång för länge sen."

Are you only dreaming? No, this is truly your chance to download OVER FORTY versions of this classic song, and turn yourself Green, Green, Green, Green, Green, Green....
GREEN GREEN GRASS OF HOME Predominantly normal versions
GREEN GREEN GRASS OF HOME Predominantly unusual and foreign versions

Run for Cover versions: BOLL WEEVIL x 7

For generations, folkies & CW singers have sung about "The Boll Weevil," and the song can bug you. It can be a lesson in accepting, with humor, life's misfortunes, or it could be a sly grumble about immigration, or...literally a song about an insect. (And yep, if you click the picture, it gets bigger, and you can really see what a boll weevil looks like when it's lookin' for a home.)
In most versions of the folk tune, a farmer finds a talking boll weevil has moved in, and there ain't much he can do about it. He tosses the bug into a cake of ice, and the bug replies, "it's mighty cool and nice." The song ends with the insect chewing up a path of cotton on the man's farm.
That's The Weavers version, though. Listen to how rockabilly Eddie Cochran adapts it using a racist opening line: "The Boll Weevil am a little black bug, came from Mexico they say. Came all the way to Texas just lookin' for a place to stay."
Eddie's anecdotes end with the boll weevil heated up and still taunting the farmer. As for the "red hot sand...it's mighty hot but I'll take it like a man." And that's the end of the song. No way to get rid of the boll weevil.
Tex Ritter's C&W version also mentions "the boll weevil am a little black bug from Mexico..." and (you know how they procreate) the "whole family" is now causing a ruckus. Ritter's bug is tossed in the "red hot fire," but the bug says "Yassah, it'll be my home." Ritter's versions ends with the weevil destroying half the farmer's cotton.
The song originated with the black folk-blues singer Leadbelly, and no, his shout does not mention blacks or Mexico. It simply mentions how the insect and his whole family came "lookin' for a home" and he can adapt to ice and sand.
For those who simply want to hear a funny folk song, The Weavers, with droll Lee Hays muttering the lines, is the choice...the beast is "humanized" by being able to speak and his destructiveways lightly written off as just something that can't be cured and can only be endured. The clever weevil even wants to make a deal with a lightning bug so he can create havoc after nightfall! Brook Benton, a black pop singer popular in the 50's, does a version marred by an irritating clinky-piano, but his lyrics do not mention the color of the boll weevil, and "where they come from, nobody really knows." In Benton's version, the farmer asks "Why'd you pick my farm. The boll weevil just laughed at the farmer and said we ain't gonna do ya much farm...we're just lookin' for a home....gonna take me a home...Farmer I'd like to wish you well. And the farmer said to the boll weevil, yeah, and I wish you was in — lookin' for a home."
There are a few other songs about the boll weevil, but these all have the same melody and pretty much the same lyrics. If someone adapted the song today...who knows what that boll weevil would be getting into...
Eddie, Tex, Brook and four more, singin' about BOLL WEEV-ILLS!

DRILL YE TARRIERS & PAT WORKS ON THE RAILWAY

"If God had meant us to fly," Michael Flanders once remarked, "he would never have given us the railways."
In America, there was romance and excitement as the nation became linked via thousand of miles of track. It wasn't quite so exciting or romantic for those who were working on the railroad, all the live-long day.
To keep up their spirits, the workers sang, and often about the ironies and miseries of their lives. "For it's work all day for the sugar in your tay," was the Irish chorus on "Drill Ye Tarriers Drill." Another popular tune was "Pat Works on the Railway," which includes a typical Irish nonsense-word chorus, "Fill-a-me ory-ory-ay."
The lyrics are simple, easy to remember rhymes that could go for nine stanzas. "In Eighteen hundred and forty one, I put my cordoroy britches on. Put my cordoroy britches on, to work upon the railway..." Each year is just as bland.
"Drill Ye Tarriers" is more amusing, as the grousing lead singer takes a shot at his boss, the boss's wife, her cooking, and the cheap ways of the railroad. Hear for yourself the vivid picture of a fellow blown skyward, and his punishment.
The Weavers covered both songs, and they are joined by two extra Tarrier versions (Chad Mitchell and Cisco Houston) and two other "Pat Works on the Railway" attempts, one from The Cottars, and an oddity from Mechanicy Shanty, a European group of wild and crazy guys who sing with Russian-Polish accents and have their own nonsense syllables to replace "Fill-a-me ory-ory-ay," which sounds like: "Rilla-he-rollin-rollin-way."
The whole point of nonsense refrains was to create something catchy even illiterates or those who don't know the language can easily remember and sing. These days, it could be the entire song. But we'll save "Who Let the Dogs Out" for another day...
Various Versions of "Drill Ye Tarriers Drill" and "Pat Works On the Railway"

WTF does GUANTANAMERA mean?

You get 9 versions of it.
It's a song you know pretty well.
Even if you don't know what it's about!
Most people figure it's some kind of protest song.
Maybe a cheer about a home town.
Something to do with a type of dance?
Take a few guesses, and read on.
One thing most everyone agrees on, is that if you hear it too often, it's one of the most annoying songs of all times, especially as sung by white idiots who want the vicarious thrill of doing something Latino without getting an infection.
The worst of the 9 versions here is just such an example, as the usually tasteful Pete Seeger (sometimes credited as co-author) offers a most enthusiastically rotten rendition, with ludicrous over-pronunciations which include stereotypical Latino high-pitched ha-ha's and enough gutteral emphasis to hurl loogies out to the back row. It's enough to make you reach for the Alka-Salsa.
Ironically a black version might well be worse than this white one, thanks to the obnoxious rap of Wyclef Jean. Laconic, sullenly cool rhyme-dictionary dribblings about some Hispanic piece of ass bump and grind all over a torpid version of the actual tune. At least the rap part makes it somewhat clear what the song is about.
Yep.
It's about a chick.
The song is actually no more profound than "The Girl from Ipanema."
José Fernández wrote his first set of lyrics about a girl from Guantanamo (a "Guantanamera") back in 1929. It was just your typical, "That girl's hot, she could care less about me" deal, and later, a chorus was added to it, which is where all the idiots in the room shout "Guajira Guantanamera," like they're about to kill somebody. All they're really doing is admiring how the woman moves. "Guajira" is a Cuban rhythm. Herminio Garcia wrote the chorus but never got a co-write credit, having pushed it all the way to the Cuban Supreme Court in 1993. Sometimes the song is co-credited to Pete Seeger, instead. He did popularize and arrange it for American audiences.
And no credit to Jose Marti, whose poem was used for the lyrics. Here's the translation for "Guantanamera," which is basically just as overbaked and pretentious as any similar plaint from Neil Diamond:
"I am a sincere man from where the palm tree grows. And before dying I want
to share the verses of my soul. My verse is light green and it is flaming crimson. My verse is a wounded deer who seeks refuge on the mountain..."
Yeah, get over it, amigo. The chick could care less.
"And for the cruel one who would tear out this heart with which I live. I do not cultivate nettles nor thistles. I cultivate a white rose."
There's something vaguely political and typically Cuban about the last stanza: "With the poor people of the earth I want to share my fate. The brook of the mountains gives me more pleasure than the sea."
Not some kind of political freedom rant, or a call to join and fight the good fight, it's just about a girl from Gitmo who is saying no. Almost as disappointing as when you learned that "La Cucaracha" was about a cockroach, and "La Bamba" was just babble nonsense to dance to.
Your download? There's a live performance from Pete Seeger in front of a mostly Latino audience. To Pete's credit, los hombres seem flattered by Seeger's outrageous accent. Perhaps they were glad he at least tried; the other folkie on the bill, ill folks legend Phil Ochs, demurred from singing in Spanish and offered instead his sincere "Bracero" in English. Plus: Los Lobos, Jose Feliciano, Joan Baez, Celia Cruz, Perez Prado, Nana Mouskouri, an instrumental from the London All Stars Steel Orchestra, and a bizarre Latino-rap thing from Wyclef Jean, who has a chorus singing the real lyrics while he embellishes things with oh-so-cool rap. He remembers a chick: "Yo...I axed her what's her name she said Guantanamera, remind me of a ol' Latin song my uncle used to play on a 45 when he used ta be alive..." Nice. "Mulatto, shook her hips like Delgado...hey yo standin' at da bar wid a Cuban cigar..."


GUANTANEMERA

"Johnny" A Pozo-Sicko Folk Song

Martin Mull: "Remember the folk scare of the 60's? That garbage nearly caught on."
One reason it didn't, was that people didn't want to hear rottenly pompous "message" songs by groups like the Pozo-Seco Singers. Even the earnest croon of "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" became pretty tiresome, so when every overwrought singer and group began mewling about "I Gave my Love a Cherry" or offering tripe like "Johnny," folk music was doomed. Bob Dylan went electric. Judy Collins, Paul Simon, Janis Ian and others went to folk-rock. Burl Ives went back to acting.
Folk is still around...and mostly avoided. If you see some oh-so-sensitive type in a park or playground, strumming a guitar, sporting a dirndl or a goatee, you RUN IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. Especially if the person has BOTH a dirndl and a goatee. Nobody wants to hear self-important, solemn and pseudo-sensitive suet-suckers oozing pretentious drivel intended as a lesson in life.
Such an example is "Johnny" from the Pozo-Seco Singers, who were so middle of the road they should've been run over by a truck. While they did have some good intentions at times (any group that covered "Changes" by Phil Ochs can't be all bad), this is the kind of song that was intended to make kids cry, especially if the kid hadn't yet gotten over "Puff the Magic Dragon."
Nominations for "Worst Folk Song" are now open, and perhaps one day a blog will feature an entire Rapidshare download of witless sing-alongs, execrable ethnic excretions, cloying calamities and rancidly sappy ballads. For now....heeeeeeeere's "Johnny."
JOHNNY Download or weep on line.

BOB NOLAN - That Old Outlaw...TIME

"Now as I go along, he steals from me.
My way of life. My woman's love. My peace of mind.
If I could see him I'd hit him. If I could reach him I'd kill him.
That old outlaw...Time."
This is just illfolks reminding you that one day your download will be six feet deep.
In 1979, Bob Nolan, one of the original "Sons of the Pioneers," emerged from long retirement to cut "The Sound of a Pioneer."
A year later, June 16, 1980, he was dead. Like most C&W vocalists who didn't get into a car or plane accident, his passing was little noticed by the mainstream press.
Your download song "That Old Outlaw Time" is from that album.
Unlike Johnny Cash, who held legendary status late in life, knew he had a death sentence just months away, and made the most of songs such as "The Man Comes Around" and "Hurt," Bob Nolan probably thought this was a comeback album, not a farewell. Although, you never know, the old cowboy reads these lines as if there's a cold hand on his shoulder:
"This shadow I can't seem to shake is not flesh and blood. This is a stranger each man faces in his own mind; filling him with fear and doubt. And behind it all, is that old outlaw: Time." Karloff couldn't have narrated it better.
"No way to win...no way to win...against that old outlaw...TIME."
BOB NOLAN Instant Download or Listen on line. No pop-ups or porn ads.

THE LION SLEEPS TONIGHT - WIMOWEH - MBUBE

Give props to Jews and Italians! They made a hit out of "Mbube" an obscure ethnic chant and turned it into "Wimoweh" an irritating musical windshield-wiper of a folk song. 

Then turned those tunes into the enduring hit "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." 

Below you get a crapload of versions...four MBUBE, four WIMOWEH and enough LION SLEEPS TONIGHT to keep a zoo awake till morning.

Where...Excedrin users ask, did this musical plague come from?


 
Answer: Africa. 1939
Solomon Linda wrote and recorded "Mbube" (a word for "Lion") with his group the Evening Birds. Guess what. Like so many artists of any color, his record label only paid him for recording the song. No royalties. Of course in South Africa, where blacks could not own property (or copyright) Solomon was doubly cursed. 

An alleged 100,000 copies of "Mbube" sold in Africa over the course of a decade, but the song was too ethnic to make it off the continent and onto national radio stations. It was up to "ethnic explorers" to hunt for exotica, be it Delta blues or African chants.

1952: A breed of white people, called "Folkies," began discovering "world music." Over at Vanguard and Decca, there was The Weavers and the duo of Marais & Miranda, both interested in hipping the world to African music. Marais & Miranda popularized "Marching to Pretoria," while The Weavers chose "Wimoweh."

Wimo-what?? 

Pete Seeger and his friends mis-heard "Mbube" as "Wimoweh." Seeger explains what the word means: "Legend says, Shaka The Lion [a Zulu warrior] didn't die when Europeans took over...he simply went to sleep, and he'll wake up some day." 

"The lion sleeps" is not musical accompaniment to a Rousseau painting. That line, pretty much the translation of "Mbube," meant that one day, the French, Dutch and anyone else inhabiting Africa would go away and stop messing things up. Thus, leaving things to guys like Idi Amin, or the current maniac tribesmen who allow AIDS, murder, poaching of animals, the stealing of diamonds mass starvation, and spam e-mails from Nigeria. Oh, and Boko Haram.

Happily, most everyone who heard "Wimoweh" merely had a jolly excuse to shout "Wimoweh," and not have any idea what it meant. Same deal with one of The Weavers' first hit songs: "Tzena Tzena Tzena." 
 
The Weavers were produced by Gordon Jenkins, and Rolling Stone described the result with breathless delight in their May 25, 2000 issue: Jenkins' "arrangement of "Wimoweh" was a great Vegas-y explosion of big-band raunch that almost equaled the barbaric splendor of the Zulu original. Trombones blared. Trumpets screamed.  Strings swooped and soared through Solomon's miracle melody. And then Pete (Seeger) cut looks with all that hollering and screaming. It was a revolutionary departure from everything else the Weavers had ever done...His version was faithful to the Zulu original in almost all respects save for his finger-popping rhythm, which was arguably a bit white for some tastes but not entirely offensive...Seeger passed with flying colors, bawling and howling his heart out, tearing up his v ocal cords so badly that by the time he reahed age seventy-five he was almost mute..." 



Unfortunately, while listeners were enjoying this folk-tribute to black African music, America was undergoing the "Red Scare." Pete Seeger was labeled a Commie, and "Wimoweh" and The Weavers got blacklisted. The song fell from the charts and the group's music was banned by many radio stations. "Wimoweh," via cover versions, continued to amuse listeners, and The Kingston Trio performed it on their huge selling "Live from the Hungri i" album.

In 1961 Italian producers Hugo (Peretti) and Luigi (Creatore), a lyricist named George Weiss, and The Tokens lead singer Jay Siegal put together a little miracle called "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." The quirky tune was multi-racial, using African rhythms, doo-wop, falsetto, and a female's soaring variation on classical "vocalise." Welcome in any stack of 45's that included "The Witch Doctor" or "Quiet Village" fresh lyrics pushed the literal lion imagery while the music and vocals erected a Brill Building in the South African veld. For an added twist, Frenchman Henri Salvador recorded "Le lion est mort ce soir," and there have been plenty of other nutty versions since (many in your zip file). 

In 1962, Solomon Linda died. He had almost no money. His wife and children lived in Soweto in a dirt-floor shack where a mash of corn was the usual meal, and a great treat would be...an egg. Meanwhile, back in the States...

Catchy, obnoxious and fascinating, "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" has endured for over 40 years, dragging in its wake, the legends of "Wimoweh" and "Mbube," two songs that almost nobody would want to hear more than once. Thanks to its use in Disney's mammoth hit "The Lion King," Solomon Linda's family was able to be the lion and take a bite out of a big, fat cash-cow.
Racism? Nah, it's the music business, that's all.
 
As with "Tom Dooley," if there was no name on it, it was assumed to be public domain. If you didn't file a lawsuit (as the "Tom Dooley" guy did) you didn't get paid. Seeger: "The big mistake I made was not making sure that my publisher signed a regular songwriters’ contract with Linda. My publisher simply sent Linda some money and copyrighted The Weavers’ arrangement here..." Which isn't so unusual. Matthew Fisher had to wait 40 years before he got a co-write credit on "Whiter Shade of Pale. " To use the vernacular, "shit happens." Before Linda's family sued Disney, the twisty path of royalties tended to go to the Weavers, to George Weiss (if the song was sung and his "in the jungle, the mighty jungle" line used), and to the original South African record label (a division of Decca).

The fact remains that Solomon Linda's song would be nothing but a footnote if not for the way it was re-written and re-produced by a very commercial bunch of professionals as "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." But hear the evidence yourself.

Are we so much more open to "world music" today? No. Whatever the music might be...a Swiss yodel, a polka, a Gamalan monkey chant or "Mbube," it ain't gonna chart if it ain't commercial. To put it another way, Paul Simon sells a lot more records than the people he used on "Graceland" or "Rhythm of the Saints."

Most of you will continue to spin "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" a lot more than "Mbube." If you want to call yourselves racists, go ahead. That's the easy word thrown at Pete Seeger and The Tokens. 

Your reward for reading all of the above, or reading none of the above:
A whole lotta Mbube, Wimoweh and Lion Sleeps Tonight, and guess what, on this download, nobody gets paid. Fair is fair. 

UPDATE: the link is long out of date. I was going to to upload some of the tracks individually for you...after all, this IS an educational blog...but all of it is streaming on YouTube. (And there are ways of pulling the mp3 off a YouTube video so you can keep it for your very own, including convert YouTube to Mp3 websites).  

The TOKENS - The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Glen Campbell guitar version - WIMOWEH

Desmond Dekker ("The Israelites" guy) Reggae-Rocks "WIMOWEH" 

Bizarre Afro-Big Band version: YMA SUMAC and MARTIN DENNY

TV Insanity: Dusty Springfield ("The Springfields") Pretend to be Afrikaaaaaaans

The Weavers - WIMOWEH

YouTube: Solomon Linda's 1939 version, MBUBE

A DOZEN "HIGHWAYMAN" ROBBERY SONGS

The image of "The Highwayman" is romantic, largely because of the Alfred Noyes poem (most sucessfully mated to music by Phil Ochs). In reality, most highwaymen were just robbing hoods. Anyone riding by was "fair game" to them, and that led to the formation of the Horse Patrol in 1805.
The year before, William Brennan was hanged. The Irish highwayman is still one of the most famous of his profession, a romantic figure before the arrival of his rivals Jesse James in America, or Ned Kelly in Australia.
Brennan may have been one of the few to practice "sharity," since the earliest broadside ballads about him (circa the 1820's) paint him as a hero, a rebel targeting British nobility and the RIAA (Royal Idiots and Aristocrats). "He robbed from the rich, and gave it to the poor," is a line from "Brennan on the Moor."
When the actual Brennan died, it was without much fanfare or notoriety...or a catchy melody. As the song about him grew in popularity over the years, few could actually state where he was born (probably Kilmurry) or why he became an outlaw. Some said that he joined the army where he rebelled against its discipline and deserted. Others said he was already a crook and stole a watch from a foppish officer and had to flee after the crime was discovered.
It's up to the Clancy Brothers to give an authentic, and brief version of "Brennan on the Moor." Other versions go on for stanza after stanza, filled with his exploits.

Also here, in two versions (one male, one female) is "The Newry Highwayman." The other highwaymen are not named, but their personalities, exploits and attitudes are vividly brought to musical life by: Blue Cheer, the Brotherhood of Man and Tinsley Ellis.
The choice here for a musical setting of the Noyes poem is not the least bit noisy; it's Loreena McKennitt. She's not the only blonde on the bill, though. You also get "The Highwayman" as sung and described by Stevie Nicks. And yes, that odd song about reincarnation, whether it's a criminal or a damn builder, is on this download too, "The Highwayman" as written by Jimmy Webb and performed by The Highwaymen (led by Johnny Cash).
One of the most famous phrases in all of crime belongs to the highwayman: "Stand and Deliver!" That bold demand yields two very different songs, one from Wishbone Ash and the other from Adam Ant.
It would've been an unlucky 13 to include "Dennis Moore," the Monty Python song about the man who stole from the rich...but largely confined himself to pilfering lupins. "Lupins??"
Stand & Deliver! 12 Highwayman Songs Folder

FAREWELL to Nova Scotia, Already!

You get TWELVE versions of "Farewell to Nova Scotia." That's a long goodbye!
The singer mentions three brothers are already dead but, it's off to war, singing... "Farewell to Nova Scotia, you sea-bound coast! Let your mountains dark and dreary be!"
And it leaves you wondering...
When was Nova Scotia at war? Did they have a Lox vs Salmon battle with Israel? Did they cross the sea to fight, uh, Old Scotia?
As usual with many folk songs on this continent, the origins are actually to be found in the United Kingdom. The original poem, "The Soldier's Adieu" dates from 1808, and was written by Scotland's Robert Tannahill. In part:

I grieve to leave my comrades dear,
I mourn to leave my native shore,
To leave my aged parents here,
And the bonnie lass whom I adore....

The trumpet calls to War's alarms,
The rattling drum forbids my stay;
Ah! Nancy, bless thy soldier's arms,
For ere morn I will be far away.

Adieu! dear Scotland's sea-beat coast!
Ye misty vales and mountains blue!
When on the heaving ocean tost,
I'll cast a wishful look to you.

Apparently when Canada took part in World War I, this old folk song was re-written by some Scottish immigrants now going off to join the Allies in Europe. Or, with the fishing industry quite dangerous, Nova Scotia fishermen simply adapted the song as a heroic ballad that applied to anyone shoving off on a leaky boat.
In 1933 folklorist Dr. Helen Creighton collected it, and placed it in an anthology, but as "The Nova Scotia Song" it languished until the folk boom of the late 50's. By the 60's, when war protesters tended to flea to Canada rather than fight, Catherine McKinnon's version became a standard. (Aye, women's liberation...she sings in the first person and war's now an equal opportunity!) It's been recorded dozens of times since, elevating the dutiful Canadian sailor to legendary status.
Your download has the Irish Rovers, Stomping Tom, the Wicked Tinkers and other gobs, salts and worthies, but some unexpected versions, like the lilting dirge from the grand Rita McNeil, and an alarming version by a ghostly 13 year-old girl who sounds like she didn't survive the Wreck of the Hesperus.

As far as war songs go, this is one of the few that balances patriotism with fear, and a willingness to fight with a sense of dread. While the opening line mentions birds are singing on every tree, the singer realizes "there's no rest for me." He leaves behind the ominous site of mountains, and "grieves to leave" parents, friends and a lover. The odds of living aren't that great: "I had three brothers, and they're at rest. Their arms are folded on their chests." But this "poor simple sailor" has no choice but to be brave and wonder if it's all worth it; "Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?"
The music is based on "Good Night and Joy Be With Ye" which appeared in the old book "Gow's Repository of the Dance Music of Scotland." That might explain why the tune doesn't quite match the grim lyrics. Most singers create a lively, optimistic jig of a hazardous mission.
Nova Scotia is a great tourist town and anyone visiting is not going to be saying "Farewell" without having heard somebody singing this song in a pub, tavern, or on the Bay of Fundy.
12 Times! FAREWELL TO NOVA SCOTIA, ALREADY!
UPDATE: this one died due to lack of interest. So...what more futile an idea could there be than re-up? Especially with Rapidshare? Up again, July 2008. If it dies, that'll be it. Farewell!
NEW:
12 Times! FAREWELL TO NOVA SCOTIA, RE-UPPED to a better and more patient service

OVER A DOZEN TOM DOOLEY SONGS

LOTS of Tom Dooley songs in this download, including a corny dixieland take and a modern Flintstones rockabilly number. One guy sounds like Tim Conway's Mr. Tudball with narration in a Swedish-German accent. Two others, Gus Backus and The Nilsen Brothers take it up a notch and sing in German. The more traditional (annoying) Appalachian moans with banjos and harmonicas, are well represented and there's the Lonnie Donegan skiffle take and even a macabre version from Macabre. For comic relief you also get a ribald Tom Crudely riff from the Smothers Brothers, who are greatly amused by the doings in "the internal triangle." That's a lot of Tom Dooley but...
Hang down your head and cry: there really was no such person as Tom Dooley.
The guy hanged in Wilkes County, North Carolina in the late 1860's was named Tom Dula. Next question, did he really deserve to die?
Some say yes. Some say no. Some say it doesn't matter and he's as dead as the folk music craze of 1958 that saw the Kingston Trio ride the murder ballad to the top of the charts.
The main fact of the case. Laura Foster was found dead.
The suspects were narrowed to ex-Rebel soldier Tom Dula and Laura's cousin, Anne Foster Melton. It was whispered that Laura and Tom Dula had been an item, and then he started in with Laura's married cousin! The "eternal triangle" was a man and two women. OK, now make that ONE woman.
Weeks after Laura Foster was found in a shallow grave, the trail led to the home of Col. James Grayson, a politician who had hired Tom for some menial jobs around his farm. Tom was nowhere to be found, but with Grayson joining the posse and knowing the likely route Tom would have taken, it wasn't long before the fugitive was tracked down. Grayson arrested Tom (even though he wasn't technically a sheriff) and kept the posse from inflicting vigilante justice. Anne Melton was implicated but not tried, and Tom insisted neither of them were to blame for Laura's death. So who then? Some feverish day worker or "citizen above suspicion" who killed Laura when his advances were spurned? Tom's defense team didn't seem to have a clue.

Tom was tried and convicted. He won an appeal and was convicted again. Supposedly his last words on the gallows were: "Gentlemen, do you see this hand? I didn't harm a hair on the girl's head."
The tale of "Tom Dooley" was quickly spun into a folk song. One thing about the great "folk tradition" is that it encourages lies. The song just gets better and better the more you embellish it. The truth gets lost in the shuffle. One version of the Dooley legend has it that Tom got a venereal disease from Laura Foster, and then infected Ann Melton. So...she kills Laura? Not Tom? In this story, Sheriff Grayson (demoted from Colonel) ends up marrying Ann, who later confesses to the crime on her deathbed. Oh yes, and Grayson would marry a woman who has a venereal disease incurable at the time.
Another lovely version has school teacher "Bob Grayson" falling in love with Laura, and being the detective who not only finds Laura's body but Ann's handkerchief clumsily left in the shallow grave. Why she wouldn't be arrested and tried is not addressed. And on it goes. Fortunately there were some professionals involved, like the doctor who said Laura was not pregnant nor abused (even when squashed into that hastily dug four foot long grave) and trial reports survive to remove some of the wilder suppositions.
As you see, the only surviving photo of a participant is Col. Grayson. The grave of Tom Dula still exists, but people have taken some chips off that old block.
Tom himself has been portrayed as everything from a dashing, handsome soldier, to a grinning hillbilly idiot who rode to the gallows sitting on what was to be his coffin and playing the banjo, and declaring to his executioner, "I would have washed my neck if I had known you were using such a nice clean rope!"
Considering this is an 1860's story that wasn't covered that much or that well in the local papers, and nobody's sure how Dula pronounced his name, and that even the date of Dula's hanging has been variously printed as 1868 and 1869, it's not surprising that there's been so much embellishment and confusion.
The first duo to record the tune, in 1929 for Victor, was Grayson and Whitter. And yes, Gillam Grayson was a nephew of Colonel Grayson. The song kicked around for a decade, and was a favorite of Frank Proffitt, who shared it with singer and Appalachian folk-scholar Frank Warner, who helped place "Tom Dula" in the Alan Lomax anthology "Folk Song USA" in 1947. In 1958 the The Kingston Trio plucked it from the Lomax book and had a surprise hit single with "The Ballad of Tom Dooley." The song ignited the "folk boom" (1958-1963) most likely because it also melded folk with doo-wop (as you can hear on the goofy well-ah well-ah refrain). The message fit in with the spirit of Disney justice in balladeering: "Poor boy you're bound to...DIE!"
Once the song the Trio got from the Lomax book was a hit, they were taken to court where Mr. Proffitt (pardon the pun) who had given the song to Alan Lomax successfully proved it wasn't a public domain old folk piece but a family-owned gem. Or as the judge could've told the Trio's leader Dave Guard, "Hang down your head and pay."
17 DOOZIES

10 SONGS ABOUT COAL MINING

When activist-folk music became popular, one of the causes that singers championed was the plight of coal miners. The dirty, ill-paying work can turn anyone's lungs black, but it can also turn anyone's lights out. All it takes is a rumble of rock. You might remember "Big Bad John," the song about a miner who stood tall and made sure his buddies got out alive. Though supplies are being depleted, coal mining continues in this country, and at least one graphic accident seems to make headlines every year.

In 1958 a devastating collapse at the Springhill mine became front page news. Day after day, it was a life and death struggle to reach the men trapped under the earth.
"Ballad of Springhill" (aka "Springhill Mining Disaster") by Peggy Seeger is one of the darkest (no kidding) folk songs of all time. The E-shaped multi-level mine had "roads that never saw sun nor sky," and her dirge unsparingly tells us a truth about the doomed miners who never got out: "through all their lives they had dug their graves."
As horrifying and moving as the song is, it spares us some of the grimmest details of men bleeding to death and drinking each other's urine. For a full report, read Melissa Fay Greene's "Last Man Out," which manages a strange parallel story involving a racist politician monitoring the disaster so he could invite the survivors to come South and give him some publicity.
Several versions of the ballad are on this ten-pack download. Some use the original line "listen for the shouts of the black-faced miners." Others, perhaps concerned that the phrase might seem racist, choose "the bare-faced miners" which is not as dumb as it seems, because "bare-faced" means a miner has lost his oxygen mask or other protection against poison gas. Quite a few cover versions of the song have come from U.K. singers, which is no surprise considering the coal mining areas in Wales.

Here, MOR artist Barbara Dickson offers a surprisingly fierce rendition.
There are a few lyric differences between the versions of "Springhill," some leaving out the line or two. Peggy Seeger: "I am especially proud of “The Ballad of Springhill” (one verse of which was written by Ewan MacColl, for when I wrote it I had never been down a coal-mine. We both felt the song needed a verse that sounded as if I had). This song has actually entered the ‘folk tradition’ to such an extent that people either think that Ewan or ‘the folk’ wrote it. What a compliment!"

Also on the download, a different song about Springhill, recorded by Bill Clifton. It's more in keeping with the era's Disney-type theme songs, and doesn't have any of the stark drama of Seeger's lyrics. "But..." Shel Silverstein once sang, "waddya do if you're young and white and Jewish...And your mother says it's too dirty down in the mine?" One answer might be to sing a happy coal mining song, like the jolly "Cape Breton Coal Miners" song, sung to the tune of Villikens and his Dinah (ok, you know it as Sweet Betsy From Pike. Or do you?).
Lee Dorsey's "Working in a Coal Mine" is also pretty cheerful. No wonder Devo covered it with even greater glee. Sara Evans' "Coal Mine" is a grinning hoedown about how she can't wait for her tired, sweaty, dirty miner to get home. And just to round out the top ten, yeah, "Coal Miner's Daughter." It was that, or add the Bee Gees' "New York 1941 Mining Disaster." Couldn't quite go that low, but that song makes you wonder if the Gibb boys' nasal voices were due to being caught too long in a coal mine with a severe lack of oxygen.

TEN coal mine songs via RS

Update: Rapidshare's link disappeared...not unusual for them...and a reason why I stopped doing big compilations...too hard to find them all over again and re-up to someplace stable. None are very stable.

Hopefully I'll get around to adding at least a few of the tracks as single downloads via The Box.

LILY OF THE WEST Murder Ballad x 10

Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy kills rival. But that's not the end of the story: "still I love my faithless Flora, the lily of the west." Boy, is this guy gone. In fact, soon he'll be executed. [SHE will be executed, too, in the case of the "lesbian" versions from Joan Baez and Rosanne Cash]

The setting for this well known "crime of passion" song is Louisville for American folksingers, but its origins are in the U.K. circa the 1830's. The Irish ballad cautioned against journeying South: "Twas when I came to England, some pleasures for to find..." In the original, our hero merely loves and loses Flora:
"I courted her a fortnight, in hopes her love to gain, But soon she turn'd against me, which caused all my pain. She robb'd me of my freedom, she robb'd me of my rest, I roam, forsook of Flora, the Lily of the West."

Within a few decades, and with broadsheets popularizing murder ballads, the tune was revised to include mayhem. The upper class is blamed, since Flora falls for a "lord of high degree." Our hero sees red, and acts rashly. Or has a rash, and sees red:

"I walked up to my rival with a dagger in my hand, And seized him from my false love, and bid him boldly stand; Then, mad with desperation, I swore I'd pierce his breast, And I was betrayed by Flora, the Lily of the West."

(Yes, you can click the picture and see a larger version of the sheet about this broad Flora). As with "Stagger Lee" and "Tom Dooley," more than one musical setting can accompany these lyrics. The less popular version (the one resuscitated by Mark Knopfler, and the one used often by Irish traditionalists) seizes the melody more commonly associated with the old air, "Lakes of Pontchartrain." With this 10-version download you get "Lakes of Pontchartrain" with its own far less murderous original lyric, so you can compare it to the versions here that borrow from it. Over the years Flora's been re-named "Maire" or "Mary-O" or "Molly-O," but "Flora," after all, is more likely to be a "Lily" of the west.

Geography students can worry over how far "west" Flora might be in relation to Louisville. Once the song was transplanted into a Kentucky ballad of the Old West, the slimeball that Flora was fooling with was changed from a "lord of high degree" to "a man of high degree" or, worse, "a man of low degree." Either way, Flora served most definitely as a witness for the prosecution! Which suggests the Groucho line, "I was fighting for your honor, which is more than you ever did." The song wouldn't be nearly so compelling if the guy didn't still love her, setting up over a century of similar (if not always lethal) songs of agony.

In American versions, the pain is that the gallows await while the singer woefully declares he still loves his "faithless Flora." One Irish version actually spares the guy...no wonder it isn't popular:

"I then did stand my trial, and boldly I did plea. A flaw was in my indictment found, and that soon had me free. That beauty bright I did adore, the judge did her address, He said "go you faithless Molly - O", the Lily of the West Now that I've gained my liberty, a roamin' I will go. I'll ramble through old Ireland, and travel Scotland o'er. Though she thought to swear my life away, she still disturbs my rest, I still must style her Molly - O, the Lily of the West."

That's the version from Alex Beaton and from The Chieftains with the Ponchartrain melody. In most others, the guy has been found guilty thanks to Flora's eye-witness testimony, and poor boy, he's gonna die. Whether you prefer Bert Jansch, Pentangle, Steve Forbert, Rosanne Cash, etc., a special doff of the hangman's cowl goes to Peter Paul and Mary who recorded it on their best-selling album "Moving." It gave the old number a fresh new audience and probably inspired most of the cover renditions. Their version may have a little extra resonance since it's the only one that, unintentionally, echoes the love triangle of the story. Peter and Paul harmonize like dueling rivals, while Mary's alluring refrains suggest how haunting Flora was, and how easy love lost became life lost.
R-share: 10 LILIES OF THE WEST and a PONCHARTRAIN