Songs of Social Consciousness: Strange Fruit (Billie Holiday)

Previously scheduled songs of social consciousness were all from the 1960s, a time of intense social change and growing awareness. "Strange Fruit" was first recorded in 1939 by Billie Holiday. It protested American racism and in particular, the lynchings of blacks that were all too common. This song highlighted injustices that much of America was not ready to hear. In fact, the opening of The National Memorial for Peace and Justice, (also known as "The Lynching Memorial") in Montgomery, Alabama in 2018 demonstrates that our national awareness of racial injustice is long overdue.

-

Monday Music: I Don't Worry about a Thing (Mose Allison)

We lost another music legend last week with the passing of jazz pianist Mose Allison. “People are always trying to categorize me as blues or jazz or folk,” he once told the LA Times. “Some say I'm a jazz pianist that sings the blues.”

This piece captures the style of the iconic blues artist and songwriter. His trademark was an ironic turn of phrase as in “I don't worry about a thing 'cause I know nothin's goin' to be alright.” and in the song, Everybody's Cryin' Mercy: “Everybody's crying peace on earth, just as soon as we win this war.”

-

Monday Music: Justin Johnson's Haunted Tone

Here's a nice blues number by Justin Johnson playing on a lap steel guitar that was built from an 1840s weather barometer by Roots Instrument aficionado, Charles Atchison.  Wilson has other guitars made out of all kinds of materials from auto license plates to cigar boxes. He has other videos on his Facebook band page,  Justin Johnson and also at https://www.youtube.com/user/justinjohnsonlive

Stuck Inside the Diner (with Attila the Hun)

I'm calling this one imitative poetry. The inspiration came with the cartoon below that had so many zany elements, it reminded me of a Bob Dylan song. Captivated, I then set out to try to imitate a Bob Dylan song which you can read by scrolling down below the cartoon. (Since the following was inspired by a cartoon image, it can also be classified as an ekphrastic poem)

                   Stuck Inside the Diner (with Attila the Hun)

(start out with a little bass guitar blues rhythm…)

Oh I walked into the diner,

Wasn’t looking for nothin' more

Than a sandwich and some coffee

And there was blueberry pie on the floor.

There was a waitress with her pencil

Sayin' “What can I getcha, Hun?”

That's when I turned and saw Attila

Sittin’ at table number one.

Well he was lookin’ at the menu

He said “I’m eatin’ on the run.

Lookin’ for mare’s milk and blood

And some raw steak when I'm done.”

Well I was stuck inside the diner

With Attila the Hun,
Said I was stuck inside the diner
With Attila the Hun.

Lookin' for food for the body,

Lookin’ for refuge on a bun.

Now the waitress kept her cool,
She said, “I've seen your kind before.
If you don't like the food we're servin'
We can show ya to the door.”

Then Attila went to grumblin'
“Gimme the pepperoni, then.
I gotta get used to eatin' Italian
Since I plan to move on in.”

So she wrote the order down
And gave him cole slaw on the side.
She stuck her pencil in her hair,
The lady had no need to hide.
   (spoken as an aside: the lady was cool)

But I was stuck inside the diner

With Attila the Hun,
Yes I was stuck inside the diner
With Attila the Hun.

Lookin' for food for the body,

Lookin’ for refuge on a bun.

(guitar riffs will go nicely here)

There hung a portrait of a rabbit

On a suicidal mission for sure

Grippin’ dynamite in his teeth

Lookin’ for the man that has the cure.

Well I had the strange impression

Of bein’ eyeballed from the side

‘Cause underneath the counter

Somebody found a place to hide.

So I kept my wallet close

Didn’t know if I should run

‘Cause I was stuck inside the diner

With Attila the Hun.

(more guitar riffs winding down to the final chorus)

I was stuck inside the diner

With Attila the Hun,
Oh I was stuck inside the diner
With Attila the Hun.

Lookin' for food for the body,

Lookin’ for refuge on a bun.

-

Monday Music: Blind Willie McTell (The Band)

Blind Willie McTell had a foundational role in the formation of  American blues music*. Bob Dylan wrote this song  to commemorate that singer and his role. While celebrating McTell’s talent, Dylan artfully captures the milieu in which the blues arose with such phrases as, “ghosts of slavery ships” and “Hear the cracking of the whips / Smell that sweet magnolia blooming.” The Band does an excellent job with the song. You can also hear Dylan’s recording of the song here. 

______
* "Blind Willie McTell" from a blog post of mine from January, 2012.

-

Blind Willie McTell

"I know no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell"

If you haven’t heard of Blind Willie McTell, you must become acquainted with this man who played a foundational role in the formation and recording of American blues music. An African American musician blind from birth, he performed throughout the South and East and made recordings in the 1920s and 1930s. He had a distinct vocal style and a versatility on the 12-string guitar. His recordings were in the category of what the industry termed “race records” in those days. He was “re-discovered” by John Lomax who labored to record for posterity authentic American Music.In 1940, Lomax recorded McTell’s music as well as interviews with the singer for the Archive of Folk Culture of the Library of Congress.

An innovator, McTell blended traits of the earthy Delta blues in the South with the ragtime beat of the Piedmont blues in the East. His work has been covered by many modern musicians, most notably the Allman Brothers and Taj Mahal, both of whom recorded “Statesboro Blues.”   In the 1970s, when Contemporary Christian music was just getting a foothold in the record industry, Honeytree had a hit with McTell’s song, “Ain’t It Grand to be a Christian.”

Bob Dylan wrote and recorded his song, “Blind Willie McTell” during sessions for his Infidels album in 1981, but the song did not appear on that album and was not released until 1991 with the first volume of the Bootleg Series. Some of his colleagues at the time wondered why Dylan did not include the song, which was one of his best, on the Infidels album. For my part, Infidels is one of my favorite albums and I don’t think “Blind Willie McTell” would have fit in with the rest of the content. Even though we had to wait a few years for it, it is probably better that this wonderful tribute was released later when it could stand on its own for the great song that it is in commemoration of the influential blues singer.

While celebrating McTell’s talent, Dylan artfully captures the milieu in which the blues arose with such phrases as, “ghosts of slavery ships” and “Hear the cracking of the whips / Smell that sweet magnolia blooming.” You can hear Dylan’s recording of the song here. 

It is only right that Bob Dylan pays homage to Blind Willie McTell. Dylan often acknowledges his debt to American folk music, and in his early days he was seen as a being strongly influenced by Woody Guthrie. Listening to Blind Willie McTell, however, especially when he is singing a Delta blues rhythm with those repetitive phrases, one hears a definite source and inspiration to many of Dylan’s most effective songs. Below you can hear Blind Willie McTell singing, Statesboro Blues and see some photos of him from You Tube. For more information about Blind Willie McTell, you can read about him in the New Georgia Encyclopedia here. Scroll on down to see Bob Dylan’s lyrics to "Blind Willie McTell."

Blind Willie McTell
By Bob Dylan

Seen the arrow on the doorpost
Saying, "This land is condemned
All the way from New Orleans
To Jerusalem."
I traveled through East Texas
Where many martyrs fell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

Well, I heard the hoot owl singing
As they were taking down the tents
The stars above the barren trees
Were his only audience
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
Can strut their feathers well
But nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

See them big plantations burning
Hear the cracking of the whips
Smell that sweet magnolia blooming
(And) see the ghosts of slavery ships
I can hear them tribes a-moaning
(I can) hear the undertaker's bell
(Yeah), nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

There's a woman by the river
With some fine young handsome man
He's dressed up like a squire
Bootlegged whiskey in his hand
There's a chain gang on the highway
I can hear them rebels yell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

Well, God is in heaven
And we all want what's his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I'm gazing out the window
Of the St. James Hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

*