THE KESSINGER BROTHERS SWING THAT POOR GAL, LIZA JANE.

If you’re courting Liza Jane, and you want to have any chance at winning her hand, you’ve got to swing her madly. Clark Kessinger and his nephew Luches did just that in 1929, on the eve of the Great Depression. This instrumental dance number appeared toward the conclusion of a formidable recording spree: nearly three years and thirty singles, much of it for the Brunswick label. “Liza Jane” peaks and flourishes well beyond the traditional structure that the two men inherited; it frolics and dips; and when it dips into that classic “Liza Jane” country melody, you can sing “Riding on that train” or “Goodbye Liza Jane” because those lines—and every song in the “Liza Jane” family—are related.

The virtuoso fiddler Clark Kessinger was already playing West Virginia saloons and dances when he was summoned for service in World War I. While overseas, he may have whistled a different tune, “Li’l Liza Jane,” which had become freshly popular in that era, and had been transported by the rank and file to the theatre of war. Upon returning, he teamed with his nephew to form the fiddle-guitar duo that could both ignite blazes and extinguish them in the space of a three-minute, ten-inch, vinyl cut. No, they’re not brothers after all in the nuclear family sense, but they are related, and they are certainly brothers-in-skill. During the Great Depression, the Kessingers gradually faded from the music scene. Luches even passed away in 1944. Eventually, Clark Kessinger was rediscovered in the 1960s, as part of the folk music revival, and from what I can tell, he didn’t disappoint. Other fiddlers were reluctant to compete with him, even at an advanced age. The elder Kessinger passed away in 1975.

“Liza Jane” was bundled with a somewhat melancholy pop tune, “Whistling Rufus,” that nevertheless jumps in the hands of the duo. It’s not clear which of the two songs was the A-side but the record was released as Brunswick 521 in June 1929. By then, the “Liza Jane” family of songs had been circulating for many decades, in various idioms. Clark and Luches weren’t playing a “white mountain song” but a tune that had traded hands between black and white musicians—and would continue to do so in the decades to follow. For example, a sedate and divine Mississippi John Hurt plays a mellow version of this song (with words) on his 1963 album Folk Songs and Blues.

According to scholar Charles Wolfe, Clark Kessinger ripped into a fiddle tune the way a hungry fellow would rip into a plate of fried chicken. As we’ve noted, that’s how vigorous you need to be, when courting Liza Jane. You love her, you tell her so, you swing her ma-a-a-adly, but she remains aloof. She’s one obstinate poor gal. And in all likelihood, she’ll go down the new-cut road and you’ll go down the lane, and if I get there before you do, well, goodbye Liza Jane.  

coda: liza jane

I happen to have developed a specialty in “Liza Jane” songs (just a little bit) owing to a collaboration with my colleague Emily Cohen for a forthcoming documentary film that is being happily and gloriously rejuvenated and reimagined at present, after the pandemic sidelined us unexpectedly. Check out our website and my previous posts (cultural history of the song + behind the scenes at our trailer shoot) for information that will help you understand my historical claims, although we’re saving the vast majority of our best details for the film. I can confidently say that there are good days ahead for this beloved family of folk tunes.

sources of information

All Music Guide listing for the Kessinger Brothers
Discography of American Historical Recordings entry for Brunswick 521 record
Discography of American Historical Recordings entry for “Liza Jane”
Hill Billy Music entry for the Kessinger Brothers
Mountains of Music: West Virginia Traditional Music from Goldenseal. Ed. John Lilly (University of Illinois Press, 1999)
West Virginia Music Hall of Fame entry for Clark Kessinger
Wikipedia entry for Clark Kessinger