tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53711379050895595992024-03-28T20:28:54.102-07:00BLOOD AND GUTSTEINDAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.comBlogger468125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-4785231437555758642024-02-24T14:06:00.000-08:002024-02-25T09:43:57.779-08:00FIVE OF THE HARDEST SHAKERS WE KNOW: PREPARE TO BE THROTTLED (MUSICALLY). <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_uQPG_H_i8UErmXv_hWZCUKHY3DzuKZXKodTO3_m0ayTGnOSBOZ1pIpXtfh10khqL-su82oSZYbBWEwXQY5AUHob3VyPu2YbWvmGzHsrXJa6kKgWGAgU_2qThhQ9WvGrnnKL26fbDgcxzTnZj6dz7ije5RkwgMzzDdMxSCB25pe1cv6sHCN2TAFEQDOc/s600/curtis%20knight.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="532" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN_uQPG_H_i8UErmXv_hWZCUKHY3DzuKZXKodTO3_m0ayTGnOSBOZ1pIpXtfh10khqL-su82oSZYbBWEwXQY5AUHob3VyPu2YbWvmGzHsrXJa6kKgWGAgU_2qThhQ9WvGrnnKL26fbDgcxzTnZj6dz7ije5RkwgMzzDdMxSCB25pe1cv6sHCN2TAFEQDOc/w355-h400/curtis%20knight.jpg" width="355" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Curtis Knight (center) with most of The </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Squires, including Jimi Hendrix (far left). <br /><br /></span></div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes we require a good solid round of musical ravaging,
do we not? As in, these five instrumentals from the <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-shakers-era-nearly-forgotten-period.html" target="_blank">Shakers Era</a> will ravage you, Dear Reader. By “Shakers Era” we mean the largely
underappreciated early rock ‘n’ roll and R&B that prevailed, roughly speaking,
from the appearance of Elvis to the British Invasion. (Give or take: 1952 to
1954 to 1964 to 1966.) In those 10 to 12 to 14 years can be found some of the
rowdiest strains ever produced in American music, much of it driven by
shrieking saxophone or crunching guitar, or both. Most of the Shakers musicians
would never achieve stardom; a handful who “cut their teeth” in this era would “make
it big” but often enough “making it big” equated to soggy crooning as compared
to the teeth-rattling properties of these formidable records.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Collectively, these
five groups played surf, R&B, rockabilly, and hard rock from the earliest
recording (1958) to the latest (1966). Yes, you will recognize some of the
names. You may have a hard time reconciling a shaker such as “Buzz Saw” with
the mushier output-to-come by its musicians: among them Glen Campbell and Seals
and Crofts. Upon hearing “Hornet’s Nest,” you may remark that you had no idea
there was a Jimi Hendrix before the Jimi Hendrix Experience shocked the world, but
there was, and he played in a wild group known as Curtis Knight & The
Squires. From the Grammy-winning Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame inductee Duane Eddy
to the relatively unknown proto-punk group The Fender IV to the double trumpets
of Frank Motley right here in Washington, D.C., all these records will fulfill
the prophecy: namely, you will be shaken, throttled, ravaged, ravished, and picked
apart until your bare bones rattle together simply while you wear a huge smile
on your face.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Before you queue-up
the music, we suggest that you situate yourself in a semi-dark enclave with
appropriate libations at your fingertips. We doubly suggest that you invite
your Sweetie Pie to join you. You may <i>jump up</i>, you may <i>get down</i>, you
may be scared into each other’s arms. It is always more fun to be ravaged in
the presence of a loved one, is it not?<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1k9NvyJeB8k" width="320" youtube-src-id="1k9NvyJeB8k"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">intro</span></b>: Behold the rock ‘n’ roll
shaker “<b>Peter Gunn</b>” released by <b>Duane Eddy</b> in 1958 or 1959.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>26-word song review</b></span></span>:
Twangy guitar will surely rescue us (right?) but no, it’s a ruse, the guitar
crunches us instead, while saxophone drills gaping holes in the earth’s mantle.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>how to dress for
this song</b></span></span>: In layers, that can be shed, as you flee.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>after hearing this
song you resolve to</b></span></span> . . . . . build a funeral pyre for all the “with
strings” albums that you own.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sub genre(s)</b></span></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">: </span>Rockabilly. Hard rock. Tenor excess.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>notes</b></span></span>. Henry Mancini wrote the original “Peter Gunn” and recorded it
with legendary shaker musician <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2015/10/plas-and-plas-influence-little-known.html" target="_blank">Plas Johnson</a> on tenor sax. The Mancini version, of course, provided theme music
for the television show of the same name but the Duane Eddy rendition goes well
beyond Mancini, well beyond raunchy, to reach the upper levels of the registry
known to humankind. Eddy’s 1986 remake of the song won him a Grammy, which we
will not hold against him.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>discography</b></span></span>: Duane Eddy. “Peter
Gunn” A-side b/w “Yep!” B-side. London Records, London American Recordings HLW
8879. United Kingdom, 1958 or 1959. (Also released on the Jamie label in the
USA, in 1959 and1960, under the heading of Duane Eddy “His Twangy Guitar” and
The Rebels). Likely personnel may have included all or some of the following: Duane
Eddy (guitar); Steve Douglas (saxophone); Corkey Casey (rhythm guitar); Buddy
Wheeler (electric bass); Jimmy Simmons (upright bass); Al Casey (piano); and
Mike Bermani (drums). Compositional credit: Henry Mancini. Sources of
information: <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/24472022-Duane-Eddy-Peter-Gunn-Yep">Discogs</a>;
<a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/hlw8879" target="_blank">45cat</a>; Wikipedia pages for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duane_Eddy" target="_blank">Duane Eddy</a> and “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Gunn_(song)" target="_blank">Peter Gunn</a>”; <a href="https://onlysolitaire.substack.com/p/review-duane-eddy-especially-for" target="_blank">Only Solitaire Herald</a>; <a href="https://www.jazzmessengers.com/en/81319/duane-eddy/have-twangy-guitar-will-travel-2-bonus-180-gr" target="_blank">Jazz Messengers</a>.<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MbtMkjFXIiE" width="320" youtube-src-id="MbtMkjFXIiE"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">intro</span></b>:
Behold the R&B shaker “<b>Space Age</b>” released by <b>Frank Motley</b> in
1959.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>26-word song review</b></span></span>:
3 minutes of sheer rocket fuel. 2 trumpets shrieking in the same cat’s mouth. 1
drummer thumping away in the wake of his own echoes. Blastoff.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>how to dress for
this song</b></span></span>: In a helmet!<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>after hearing this
song you resolve to</b></span></span> . . . . . jettison your ballast.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sub genre(s)</b></span></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">: R&B. </span>Washington, D.C. R&B. Extraterrestrial
exotica.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>notes</b></span></span>: Part
of the vibrant <a href="https://www.bear-family.com/various-history-r-b-in-dc-1940-1960-rhythm-blues-doo-wop-rockin-rhythm-and-more-16-cd-deluxe-box-set.html" target="_blank">R&B
scene in Washington, D.C.</a>, Frank Motley became one of the few American
musicians adept at playing more than one horn simultaneously, alongside Rahsaan
Roland Kirk and George Braith. Notably, Motley and his band backed transgender singer
Jackie Shane in the Toronto-area hit “Any Other Way” from 1963, a slower piece
that we highly recommend.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>discography</b></span></span>:
Frank “Dual Trumpet” Motley and His Crew. “Space Age” A-side b/w “Everybody
Wants a Flattop” B-side. DC 45-0415. Washington, D.C., 1959. Likely personnel:
Frank Motley (dual trumpets); Curley Bridges or Jimmy Crawford (keyboards); and
Thomas ‘TNT’ Tribble (drums); remaining musicians unknown. Compositional
credit: Frank Motley and Lillian Claiborne. Sources of information: <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/11301047-Frank-Dual-Trumpet-Motley-And-His-Crew-Space-Age-Everybody-Wants-A-Flattop" target="_blank">Discogs</a>;
<a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/450415us" target="_blank">45cat</a>; <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Motley" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>.<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8t9RZXnpes4" width="320" youtube-src-id="8t9RZXnpes4"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">intro</span></b>:
Behold the rock ‘n’ roll shaker “<b>Buzz Saw</b>” released by <b>The Gee Cees</b>
in 1961.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>26-word song review</b></span></span>:
As the needle cuts through the disc, as the disc cuts through the turntable, so
do the teeth of the music cut through us unrepentant scoundrels.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>how to dress for
this song</b></span></span>: With safety goggles.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>after hearing this
song you resolve to</b></span></span> . . . . . cut through brick with a butter knife.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sub genre(s)</b></span></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">: </span>Rockabilly. Hard rock. Powertool grind.<br /><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br />notes</span></b>: Apparently,
Glen Campbell, Jim Seals, and Dash Crofts had been bandmates in the widely
beloved shaker group The Champs, before leaving that group to cut this record. “Buzz
Saw” would hardly predict the slower-paced material that would follow from
Campbell and, separately, the duo Seals and Crofts. We wish this brief
intersection had continued.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>discography</b></span></span>:
The Gee Cees. “Buzz Saw” A-side b/w “Annie Had a Party” B-side. Crest 45-1088.
Hollywood, California, 1961. [Also released by the same label as “Buzz Saw Twist.”]
Likely personnel: Glen Campbell (guitar); Jerry Kolbrak also known as Jerry
Cole (guitar); Jim Seals (Saxophone); and Dash Crofts (drums); other musicians may
have been drawn from another group, The Champs, but are unknown. Compositional credit:
Glen Campbell. Sources of information: <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/4082558-The-Gee-Cees-Buzz-Saw-Annie-Had-A-Party" target="_blank">Discogs</a>;
<a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/451088us" target="_blank">45cat</a>; Wikipedia pages for <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glen_Campbell" target="_blank">Glen Campbell</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerry_Cole" target="_blank">Jerry Cole</a>.<br /><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IsW97h-Ox_s" width="320" youtube-src-id="IsW97h-Ox_s"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">intro</span></b>: Behold
the rock ‘n’ roll shaker “<b>Mar Gaya</b>” released by <b>The Fender IV</b> in
1964.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>26-word song review</b></span></span>:
We consider this a punk record ahead of its time, we consider this a great punk
record, for the sheer locomotion and irreverence of the musicians.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>how to dress for
this song</b></span></span>: With a fedora, pince-nez, smoking jacket, and pocket
watch.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>after hearing this
song you resolve to</b></span></span> . . . . . weigh the benefits of the Atkins diet
versus the Keto diet.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sub genre(s)</b></span></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">: </span>Surf. Proto punk. Beach loco.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>notes</b></span></span>: According
to “Google Translate” the phrase “mar gaya” means “died” or “petered (out)” in Hindi;
“strong sea” in Haitian Creole, and “mar gaya” in Esperanto.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>discography</b></span></span>: The Fender IV. “Mar
Gaya” A-side b/w “You Better Tell Me Now” B-side. Imperial 66061. Los Angeles,
California, 1964. Likely personnel: Randy Holden (guitar); Joe Kooken (guitar);
Mike Port (bass); and Bruce Miller (drums). Compositional credit: Randy Holden.
Sources of information: <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/3965860-The-Fender-IV-Mar-Gaya-You-Better-Tell-Me-Now" target="_blank">Discogs</a>;
<a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/66061" target="_blank">45cat</a>; <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fender_IV" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>. <br /></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cAniDclO1Bs" width="320" youtube-src-id="cAniDclO1Bs"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">intro</span></b>:
Behold the R&B shaker “<b>Hornet’s Nest</b>” released by <b>Curtis Knight
and The Squires</b> in 1966.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>26-word song review</b></span></span>:
Okay, yes, the angry hornets, because their nest was poked, but who set them
off, okay, yes, it was Jimi Hendrix, that would explain a lot.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>how to dress for
this song</b></span></span>: In a beekeeper’s suit.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>after hearing this
song you resolve to</b></span></span> . . . . . swarm!<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sub genre(s)</b></span></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">: </span>R&B. Hard rock. Apian blues.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>notes</b></span></span>: There
are lots of disputes involving the Knight / Hendrix recordings that we choose
not to fathom.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>discography</b></span></span>: Curtis Knight &
The Squires. “Hornet’s Nest” A-side b/w “Knock Yourself Out” B-side. RSVP 1124.
New York, 1966. Likely personnel: Curtis Knight (guitar); Jimi Hendrix
(guitar); Marion Booker Jr. (drums); Ace Hall or Napoleon Anderson (bass); and
Nate Edmonds (organ). Compositional credit: Jimi Hendrix and Jerry Simon. Sources
of information: <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/4370857-Curtis-Knight-The-Squires-Hornets-Nest-Knock-Yourself-Out" target="_blank">Discogs</a>;
<a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/nc721343us" target="_blank">45cat</a>; <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curtis_Knight_and_the_Squires">Wikipedia</a>;
<a href="http://www.earlyhendrix.com/knight1-menu-personnel" target="_blank">Early Hendrix</a>.<br /></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzju_oQM6T-i4_MBZsjd5qIYCrL5PwGG-WpexsR4riNorWGy8FfZT6tU_m1wbL6cG5NP9DuxhCXshDhrg5JEJM2dwno98SqGmglU_tER4lLZcZkRHm6ZX-6Nz2Hq1Tp2qcezjbnNkvWQ32QdxcZxUJmHOU6db_QcV_kVRH7VQzmUGscZNqfWKf8FD43s8/s649/steve%20douglas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzju_oQM6T-i4_MBZsjd5qIYCrL5PwGG-WpexsR4riNorWGy8FfZT6tU_m1wbL6cG5NP9DuxhCXshDhrg5JEJM2dwno98SqGmglU_tER4lLZcZkRHm6ZX-6Nz2Hq1Tp2qcezjbnNkvWQ32QdxcZxUJmHOU6db_QcV_kVRH7VQzmUGscZNqfWKf8FD43s8/w278-h400/steve%20douglas.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Steve Douglas, saxophonist on <span style="text-align: left;">“Peter Gunn”</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTSZcdg1sEV_PR_5NbmWQG-m0g15oQDUNriyKd5p22XzA7EJLEnAEWktPWL40bk0en23uonbV8hkrY8SNjE71VA_DvU_vdo_akmdKSj6hlnENhDCFyUPgG5A9b9XyvscZbc0woa6-KU0BHIdrZzUByXpGbHC8CaQ0oK258vcIeA7YjxOxTRf8xc-kQkuI/s599/motley.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="599" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTSZcdg1sEV_PR_5NbmWQG-m0g15oQDUNriyKd5p22XzA7EJLEnAEWktPWL40bk0en23uonbV8hkrY8SNjE71VA_DvU_vdo_akmdKSj6hlnENhDCFyUPgG5A9b9XyvscZbc0woa6-KU0BHIdrZzUByXpGbHC8CaQ0oK258vcIeA7YjxOxTRf8xc-kQkuI/w400-h289/motley.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Frank Motley with two trumpets and His Crew. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">that’s
all folks!</span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-89509745869710571822023-12-31T07:47:00.000-08:002023-12-31T08:27:47.612-08:00MANIFESTO & SUPERMANIFESTO 2024<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzYGBiGT37iJqJYc7Ge7TER7vWTJHEn9vRCZxyTcRavKehZCi9LKVNwxJGb5h23ec8N3EVK3cnXLVn27CKOW2svkONUrhpm7PI1GuMCJbePqSCUU59zagzpx-rNzcmhOOeUx1vlz8t1t7xWqI9rvg39p8lrQmQ6WqJz0BUBhQAlgtN0Rt-_q5mq0krjbI/s800/poor%20gal%20coffee.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzYGBiGT37iJqJYc7Ge7TER7vWTJHEn9vRCZxyTcRavKehZCi9LKVNwxJGb5h23ec8N3EVK3cnXLVn27CKOW2svkONUrhpm7PI1GuMCJbePqSCUU59zagzpx-rNzcmhOOeUx1vlz8t1t7xWqI9rvg39p8lrQmQ6WqJz0BUBhQAlgtN0Rt-_q5mq0krjbI/w400-h300/poor%20gal%20coffee.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Manifesto &
Supermanifesto 2024 begins with the most unexpected development of my career. On
November 27, University Press of Mississippi released my nonfiction book <a href="https://www.upress.state.ms.us/Books/P/Poor-Gal"><i>Poor Gal: The
Cultural History of Little Liza Jane</i></a>. This capped an intensive six-year
research process into the most important folk song in American history. Aside from
all the stunning historical information I absorbed as well as learning so many
“Liza Jane” songs that now regularly dance inside my head, I developed quite a
bit as a writer. It was important to step out of my “creative writing voice”
and into a realm that was far more important than “me.” For once, I did not
find myself trying to write poetry or fiction by depending upon “my own
legend.” Instead, I functioned as a conduit for “Liza Jane” to tell its
estimable story, one that reminds us of our shared humanity.<br /></span><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTeZ2KiCX_VC_ARr1S_pmqcM3cKTGBzSr9DcPKtsL9_uANrb8gfWJrt4uQAUPQz3flozQbSLMY3DTNWsy9xMPklpGGhfGvrb6VseGfHDwFrVJ-eJBwYf8-L2lVaT1cScdQ_to6-lmqf6W-LpV6Tsf3LG8uy9KE2yHQh9FAKA7zpw06JG2XbH9XArdx6CT/s2048/david%20evans.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTeZ2KiCX_VC_ARr1S_pmqcM3cKTGBzSr9DcPKtsL9_uANrb8gfWJrt4uQAUPQz3flozQbSLMY3DTNWsy9xMPklpGGhfGvrb6VseGfHDwFrVJ-eJBwYf8-L2lVaT1cScdQ_to6-lmqf6W-LpV6Tsf3LG8uy9KE2yHQh9FAKA7zpw06JG2XbH9XArdx6CT/w400-h266/david%20evans.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">I could not have
written <i>Poor Gal</i> without significant mentorship by a bloke named David
Evans. A two-time Grammy winner, musician, professor emeritus, author, and
blues ambassador, David provided patient, old-school guidance from the darkest
days of the pandemic all the way to the book’s production. I had read his
legendary book <i>Big Road Blues</i> when I lived in Arcata, but I should like
to note the appearance of <a href="https://www.upress.state.ms.us/Books/G/Going-Up-the-Country"><i>Going Up
the Country</i></a>, a 2023 work David co-wrote with Marina Bokelman. <i>Going
Up the Country</i> blends an adventure narrative with detailed notes about
making field recordings and, at its heart, relays an edgy investigation into
American folk and blues music.<br /></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7097-H2QDutTlaX84pivr9TKk-Hd0ssKNb6sgJkHsVIuQuK_CkaVZQ3NYd50JC4zN5A4S-CFO7bDyYf32WobQVjtdd7CI0KuwXMzNenlHC1w5Pwy4Vw8TTDAHecVdWqj_bu7lExsiHWR5tVEeZcjRVsNkgENcpzrLymsn3JelcEVhZE-s3R4WosEb3A4F/s700/microphone.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="700" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7097-H2QDutTlaX84pivr9TKk-Hd0ssKNb6sgJkHsVIuQuK_CkaVZQ3NYd50JC4zN5A4S-CFO7bDyYf32WobQVjtdd7CI0KuwXMzNenlHC1w5Pwy4Vw8TTDAHecVdWqj_bu7lExsiHWR5tVEeZcjRVsNkgENcpzrLymsn3JelcEVhZE-s3R4WosEb3A4F/w400-h300/microphone.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">I enter 2024 with an ambitious
creative agenda. I am hoping to step back to the microphone once again as a
lyricist-vocalist with a band. Together with my colleague <a href="https://theotheremilycohen.com/">Emily Cohen</a>, I am / we are still cranking
away on a <a href="https://www.lizajanemovie.com/">documentary film</a> about
“Little Liza Jane.” Emily and I feel a renewed sense of momentum regarding this
endeavour (sic). Having seen <i>Poor Gal</i> hit the bookshelves, I have
returned (buoyantly) to my “creative writing practice” or rather my “roots” as
a writer. On the one hand, this would involve dealing with some shocking
experiences—such as the long-ago <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2013/12/some-words-from-murder-vault.html">murder
of my friend Warren</a>—as well as rendering myself more “vulnerable” in the
presence of my own foibles. <br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaoLm8qMWvC6dy5xCQZUCxZM-mNCtz4mbURh71N1YWNG5rhE16KI9ZpkQHnbOFYBgkEl-RPS7SHJOlTXbW7hHz2N1pha-0hUsYRpULBk4ShKz2Ob8t-N5wDuocEb1FjbwSExj5UYfEhotg97PHSqfaDolwkNkvvoE7Z-wYNk8kIB3TgPLR1pCf74gbiMx/s4032/david%20grave.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaoLm8qMWvC6dy5xCQZUCxZM-mNCtz4mbURh71N1YWNG5rhE16KI9ZpkQHnbOFYBgkEl-RPS7SHJOlTXbW7hHz2N1pha-0hUsYRpULBk4ShKz2Ob8t-N5wDuocEb1FjbwSExj5UYfEhotg97PHSqfaDolwkNkvvoE7Z-wYNk8kIB3TgPLR1pCf74gbiMx/w400-h300/david%20grave.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">This too, of course. Not
long after my friend (and his girlfriend) were murdered, my brother David
Gutstein passed away. He had just turned 27. Over the last twelve months, I
have really reflected upon the gift of life. One that I have been fortunate enough
to enjoy but my brother was not fully able to: he has been gone, by now, for
more years than he lived. He had not really gotten started. I visited his grave
earlier this year and it really f****** hurt. Yet this well of emotion cannot
simply smolder. It must lead to creativity, community—and earthly love. <br /></span><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8k3xmH2YkDs" width="320" youtube-src-id="8k3xmH2YkDs"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">“I hate spending a
lot of time in graveyards / We’re <i>all</i> gonna spend a lot of <i>time</i>
in graveyards.” I meant these lyrics with both acidic and ironic properties
alike. (Obviously, they follow from my admission above.) This music video from
Joy on Fire’s 2022 album <a href="https://joyonfire.bandcamp.com/album/states-of-america"><i>States of
America</i></a> is certainly titled for the season. The song features a medium
burn and a more lyrical presentation than some of the hard-charging songs we
fashioned together. Too, John Paul Carillo (bass, guitar) and Anna Meadors
(saxophones) visited some fabulous production values on the effort. They filmed
half of it in Trenton and the other half here, with me, in the Rockville, Md.
area. “Show interest / Show interest / I show interest you” is aimed at <i>you</i>,
my friend. Reach out. Let’s talk.<br /></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/LMZNmG2M4eI" width="320" youtube-src-id="LMZNmG2M4eI"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Let us not end the
year without some serious geese and gosling action. Have a gander at this here
gaggle as they comply with local traffic signage. They do not run afoul of
going the wrong way down a one-way, so you can relax, the giant yellow arrow
tells said waddlers where to waddle. These fowls are headed to the creek, where
they can duck back onto the water. Even as they disappear around the bend, it
is not their swan song. These here gooses can be seen regularly in the air as a
plump wedge. In fact, they live in the same habitat (where their habit is at)
as my best animal friend forever, the mischievous scoundrel known as The Fox.<br /></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/h_r5JQiffK8" width="320" youtube-src-id="h_r5JQiffK8"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">People ask me have
you seen The Fox? Well, yes I have. She is quite robust. Rusty red. Full of
mischief. A true scoundrel of the finest calibre (sic). This summer, I spent
some time with her before I went to live downtown in a friend’s apartment.
Perhaps she sensed that I might be departing for a bit, so we chilled in the
shallow woods, enjoying each other’s company. For some reason, the fake
Australian accent emerges—“You’re a good lookin’ fox, man”—but she’s a vixen,
not a reynard (sic). When she sees me, she has this way of darting a short
distance away and then abruptly sitting down. She slays me pretty good with her
wily shenanigans!<br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pLP2uEwZSNbAy8p_YTnsaI8DzjJjMwiNfkJot2Zxg4F3YaZ7js5mkxH7hTwo8MPqCsKh-3yWc6Evfk2iEPU9HYIbvpXN5WfvOfgZ91fojEPzM4inDIDCnM8wKrEMbY_pAPitV2QIZiqKoc4mZ_EQB3prkECGNVxZAUCD23LuSFNnltqsnqDrHeQ1bocC/s4032/kits.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pLP2uEwZSNbAy8p_YTnsaI8DzjJjMwiNfkJot2Zxg4F3YaZ7js5mkxH7hTwo8MPqCsKh-3yWc6Evfk2iEPU9HYIbvpXN5WfvOfgZ91fojEPzM4inDIDCnM8wKrEMbY_pAPitV2QIZiqKoc4mZ_EQB3prkECGNVxZAUCD23LuSFNnltqsnqDrHeQ1bocC/w400-h300/kits.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll never forget the day The Fox let me sit at the edge of the
den, where her seven kits flounced about, clearly inheritors of the same
vulpine mischief. She brought seven rascally souls into the world!<br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWy_yykumgJcYpLf5s7bfl5JUXcUl3uejnw-ufQD8DDxj32n4S3jqdYmFI37vqhyphenhyphen9sFzVMAWMkGYN_hSvXopIzyF9sDRGETDhuWnVijtnf-ojJUbItOWip5lT_sp5yQxlV6U7794S7kgxEX_eFWN76Mc8C3q1nBsIq6vQNa0ye118-JwugCybaR08Cl8Q/s2532/chess%20bot.PNG"><img border="0" data-original-height="2532" data-original-width="1170" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWy_yykumgJcYpLf5s7bfl5JUXcUl3uejnw-ufQD8DDxj32n4S3jqdYmFI37vqhyphenhyphen9sFzVMAWMkGYN_hSvXopIzyF9sDRGETDhuWnVijtnf-ojJUbItOWip5lT_sp5yQxlV6U7794S7kgxEX_eFWN76Mc8C3q1nBsIq6vQNa0ye118-JwugCybaR08Cl8Q/w185-h400/chess%20bot.PNG" width="185" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Notably, in 2023, I
vanquished my first chess-bot rated 2000—even as I played the black pieces! I
am usually too chicken to sacrifice my queen, but I did so because an
opportunity presented itself. And lo, the chess-bot was check-mated. Heh heh
heh.<br /><br /></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxGenOiTbbXZPsTppnGufVCYqRwYUXpH0w0hDsL3oWc7ditPp9W1uomee6vWKoSoYvcR-BoDFuc2lbaIEYSXPoRROg8Qi6io5o99zfbldk8kkwtt6DM7Ol-jVzYVwsb84dHxCPYx5mPI-Ab1HI0pPlRJHGhmVpLNOtGD_jsGRV2JEyTwtLOCS5IfMNbFm/s2048/dg%20stout.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHxGenOiTbbXZPsTppnGufVCYqRwYUXpH0w0hDsL3oWc7ditPp9W1uomee6vWKoSoYvcR-BoDFuc2lbaIEYSXPoRROg8Qi6io5o99zfbldk8kkwtt6DM7Ol-jVzYVwsb84dHxCPYx5mPI-Ab1HI0pPlRJHGhmVpLNOtGD_jsGRV2JEyTwtLOCS5IfMNbFm/w400-h300/dg%20stout.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Happy New Year, Everyone! My very best wishes to you and
your loved ones.</span></p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KA-W2M6WvZw" width="320" youtube-src-id="KA-W2M6WvZw"></iframe></div><p class="MsoNormal">It would not be a true Blood And Gutstein post without a thumping
R&B shaker. You may know Booker T. and the MGs for their hit “Green Onions”
but I will take “MG Party” any day. The addition of horns to the classic lineup
really clinches this song as a romping dance-floor instrumental from 1964. The
infectious, propulsive beat will overcome the proceedings. To wit, let us
flounce like kits, let us sacrifice our queens, let us croon at the microphone,
let us be mentored, let us tell the kinds of tales that exemplify our
connections to one another. Above all else, let us strive for peace and love.
This is aimed at <i>you</i>, my friend. Reach out. Let’s talk.<br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br />----<br /><b style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">discographical information
for “MG Party”</b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Booker T. and the MG’s. “MG Party” B-side b/w “Soul
Dressing” A-side. Stax S-153, Memphis, Tennessee, 1964. Likely personnel:
Booker T. Jones (organ); Steve Cropper (guitar); Donald Dunn (bass guitar); Al
Jackson, Jr. (drums); Wayne Jackson (trumpet); Floyd Newman (baritone
saxophone); Charles “Packy” Axton (tenor saxophone). Compositional credit:
Jones, Cropper, Jackson, Dunn.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br />DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-45267672627749784502023-11-01T12:57:00.006-07:002023-11-26T08:15:55.743-08:00FROM MARGARET WALKER TO RAHSAAN ROLAND KIRK: A GLANCE AT THE LESSER-KNOWN HEROES BEHIND THE DEVELOPMENT, PRESERVATION, & POPULARIZATION OF “LIZA JANE.”<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0uDr6Dr3_N-HszSOGT7aVowTKD71MqfllfiIkNdse94VurAOTLtKe1S5rg_KlqJzjHWIjMn-6xeWa9_l9wpX-VNVEZjcZOxnFXsMKv0TMSy9LjIWdrV_Hi4H0Egtdm46GS8G_6EvntL06zFbo0pqsQ-hmnISxsBHTFyFDxL6x1C_OLTYGlhKpLXJRjvQ/s2776/Gutstein_cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2776" data-original-width="1838" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0uDr6Dr3_N-HszSOGT7aVowTKD71MqfllfiIkNdse94VurAOTLtKe1S5rg_KlqJzjHWIjMn-6xeWa9_l9wpX-VNVEZjcZOxnFXsMKv0TMSy9LjIWdrV_Hi4H0Egtdm46GS8G_6EvntL06zFbo0pqsQ-hmnISxsBHTFyFDxL6x1C_OLTYGlhKpLXJRjvQ/w265-h400/Gutstein_cover.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Publication info<br /></span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br />Poor Gal: The Cultural History of Little Liza Jane</i>,
University Press of Mississippi, November 27, 2023. Available at <a href="https://www.upress.state.ms.us/Books/P/Poor-Gal" target="_blank">UPM website</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Poor-Gal-Cultural-History-American/dp/1496849345/ref=sr_1_4?qid=1698857072&refinements=p_27%3ADan+Gutstein&s=books&sr=1-4&text=Dan+Gutstein" target="_blank">Amazon</a>,
and other online merchants. “Liza Jane” is also the subject of a forthcoming
documentary film; please <a href="https://www.lizajanemovie.com/" target="_blank">visit the project’s website</a> for a trailer, information on the creative team, details
on participating musicians, and ways to support the production. […For even more,
please see the <i>Poor Gal</i> <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2023/11/poor-gal-cultural-history-of-little.html" target="_blank">table of contents</a>; <i>Poor Gal</i> <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5T5dZEZIz7I9zK5ZWlYZ5g" target="_blank">Spotify playlist</a>; and the <a href="https://www.dangutstein.com/littlelizajane/" target="_blank">author’s website</a>.]<br /><br />_____<br /><br /><br />Broadly speaking, my forthcoming book <i>Poor Gal: The
Cultural History of Little Liza Jane </i>chronicles the formation, spread, and
enduring importance of the “Liza Jane” family of songs. “Little Liza Jane” and
its sibling tunes crossed many boundaries to reach what I call the “musical
paradises of the twentieth century.” Once there, they appealed to a slew of “big
name” performers, whose performances were often stunning.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Stars such as Harry Belafonte, Nina Simone, and Pete Seeger
(among many others) embraced “Liza Jane” songs throughout the twentieth century.
Their renditions often made important political, emotional, and historical
statements. Notably, an adaptation of “Little Liza Jane” became David Bowie’s
very first single in 1964. Today, a new group of influential musicians such as
Dom Flemons and Nora Brown have recorded “Liza Jane,” thereby preserving a
tradition that began in the nineteenth century.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />It is likely that the “Liza Jane” family of songs originated
more than 150 years ago among enslaved people on southern plantations. From hardscrabble
beginnings rooted in African American folk tradition, these bright, joyous
tunes eventually found the stars, to be sure, but also a slate of less-celebrated
individuals who made vital contributions to the development, popularization, and
preservation of “Liza Jane.” With that in mind, I thought it might be enjoyable
for readers to get a sense of some of the lesser-known women and men who will also
populate the book, in addition to the recognizable stars. To me, the impacts
made by these lesser-known heroes compete with those of the “heavyweights.”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />From quieter, behind-the-scenes moments rooted
in folk tradition to the big-audience moments in front of tens of millions, “Liza
Jane” has crossed so many boundaries — including the color line, historical
eras, geographical regions, music genres, and performance traditions — its
story reminds us of our shared humanity.<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8qrsFFu4O-MvXrlTID4E4A1LFtGmyrSgvm88RcHrZ41twGwfkrloZNgZv_S5Vcs8iBuqKOJp6FfH_VuKKT3kbNTZNQrEbhGLzdjVVPT6uuiqQeXZkDSpMO5yfSIqD_FxUpi3_u-FQd4vqPGZgqjdBfwlTtI3r18lBRW2vmw610iLXV5e4F_Vg5hNG7xD/s640/margaret%20walker.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8qrsFFu4O-MvXrlTID4E4A1LFtGmyrSgvm88RcHrZ41twGwfkrloZNgZv_S5Vcs8iBuqKOJp6FfH_VuKKT3kbNTZNQrEbhGLzdjVVPT6uuiqQeXZkDSpMO5yfSIqD_FxUpi3_u-FQd4vqPGZgqjdBfwlTtI3r18lBRW2vmw610iLXV5e4F_Vg5hNG7xD/w400-h400/margaret%20walker.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br />Margaret Walker’s</b>
novel <i>Jubilee</i> begins in the antebellum South on a Georgia plantation. In
the novel’s early going, Walker describes performance rituals associated with a
game song played together by African American and white children, “Steal Miss
Liza (Steal Liza Jane).” The analysis of this episode in <i>Jubilee</i> is part
of <i>Poor Gal’s</i> second “intermission” which also looks at the inclusion of
“Liza Jane” in fictional works by Charles Chesnutt and Jean Toomer.<br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTC2SbvX-RT4x_sii5JA7iuOCynyQ20M1tMu69l_ikrjgOGu60PpEUXE4oMFbhL496yHLbSQXb1Sj4vyFKuiy3R370amA-mGWHlQQFYpiWu08Ib_kqYlDmxUHYs24IUoKp7xhprKOcp9ln32a_fV93pUcgldReFP7f85POv87cU_qHXV6NpRcrflVOLfH/s640/w.c.%20handy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="640" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTC2SbvX-RT4x_sii5JA7iuOCynyQ20M1tMu69l_ikrjgOGu60PpEUXE4oMFbhL496yHLbSQXb1Sj4vyFKuiy3R370amA-mGWHlQQFYpiWu08Ib_kqYlDmxUHYs24IUoKp7xhprKOcp9ln32a_fV93pUcgldReFP7f85POv87cU_qHXV6NpRcrflVOLfH/w400-h315/w.c.%20handy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">In his autobiography,
composer <b>W.C. Handy</b> describes how “snatches of folk melody” influenced his
compositions. It appears likely that the earliest forms of “Liza Jane”
contained similar “snatches of song.” Handy’s observations help to form <i>Poor
Gal’s</i> theoretical framework and are discussed in the book’s “Introduction,”
along with essential contributions by sociologist Howard Odum, the regal Duke
Ellington, and African musicologists.<br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0l5ymmYfXFsrpi0MMuiLbvStP3Koj3jIgcpPOSURBH1mwQ_tZ7JXMurE7Ihbqda1Sy5qwX5u6P65Y5tJATf91twQbc3fmDXjermQmbFBmPEo_tOpVRNZSNVrHBJoyCUdt1PRxpPdGZcpzStEAGzLiMVtjEwZflod2SCNPwoML5IZloQFkYTc17kMdiXcc/s1280/usct%204th%20reg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="938" data-original-width="1280" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0l5ymmYfXFsrpi0MMuiLbvStP3Koj3jIgcpPOSURBH1mwQ_tZ7JXMurE7Ihbqda1Sy5qwX5u6P65Y5tJATf91twQbc3fmDXjermQmbFBmPEo_tOpVRNZSNVrHBJoyCUdt1PRxpPdGZcpzStEAGzLiMVtjEwZflod2SCNPwoML5IZloQFkYTc17kMdiXcc/w400-h294/usct%204th%20reg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A regiment of African American soldiers during the Civil War<br /><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Liza Jane” songs appealed to <b>regiments </b>from both sides of
the Civil War. Stunningly, two opposing regiments — a Union unit comprised of Black
soldiers and the other a Confederate unit — were both singing “Liza Jane” as
they marched toward a battle at Spotsylvania Courthouse in 1864. Regimental
adoptions of “Liza Jane” are presented in Chapter II of <i>Poor Gal</i>, which
also explores the contributions made by the mysterious war correspondent “Dr.
Adonis.”<br /><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQ1XM7LPYZCFUrJtEp_W9VqYFrI_t9YTb_1G1nX4zT2MHFdltyrFbkO2jKBVFOcMtbiYW1SM4N6YsYP79CGHrtda2ddF_-KBuwjTCosnItDE3K2s_0rSzo5BUwdZHNZm4R4qdnOH05swb0NUHleE9d1HHQuM98fDajKMqAZKtDn85QTpOKmXoqXdHOS8X/s640/hampton%20institute%20ca%201899.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="640" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQ1XM7LPYZCFUrJtEp_W9VqYFrI_t9YTb_1G1nX4zT2MHFdltyrFbkO2jKBVFOcMtbiYW1SM4N6YsYP79CGHrtda2ddF_-KBuwjTCosnItDE3K2s_0rSzo5BUwdZHNZm4R4qdnOH05swb0NUHleE9d1HHQuM98fDajKMqAZKtDn85QTpOKmXoqXdHOS8X/s320/hampton%20institute%20ca%201899.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OLthbpV2Oy0AXXP4Lx-4xBlmlF-I-Oi91UDu8sqhEzIyq30rsnyxKJpDbyA1f2QSYGVXqIzt0aJRgWG8MQOluPpqX3mGLdTy_BVKRL8SNTiOwQ-3gcyIkhRLjlD0QpRt7HJ5OkeuLZqvClttSSrKybxwxkU879tp1lmSJALO0cMXEhzrbHvXhlExNl4R/s640/hampton%20institute%20ca%201898.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="640" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OLthbpV2Oy0AXXP4Lx-4xBlmlF-I-Oi91UDu8sqhEzIyq30rsnyxKJpDbyA1f2QSYGVXqIzt0aJRgWG8MQOluPpqX3mGLdTy_BVKRL8SNTiOwQ-3gcyIkhRLjlD0QpRt7HJ5OkeuLZqvClttSSrKybxwxkU879tp1lmSJALO0cMXEhzrbHvXhlExNl4R/s320/hampton%20institute%20ca%201898.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Native American (t) and African American (b) </div><div style="text-align: center;">musicians at the Hampton Institute ca. 1898-99<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><br />“Little Liza Jane” enjoyed many decades of popularity as a
dance game at the <b>Hampton Institute</b>, now known as Hampton University. This
community of students, and other communities like it, helped to preserve the
essential character of “Little Liza Jane,” which would become the most beloved
“Liza Jane” variant in the twentieth century. The presence of “Liza Jane” at
the Hampton Institute is covered in multiple chapters of <i>Poor Gal</i>.<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_bOW6JwHd-3NP473EhcGukvKbbxjQ4U53pSrlYUrY5ja2pgsURNsXUNgYFI4oLylGQB1Os43nyYpnJDX7td9J94YwI_zixRIUVm6ioX-dkFtbauOXKBkRowvLcciI6oX9PcmKu97MGRHlNw4tUYwC3tow5hvA_lRJ2vC0bC1Sj9ih9B_iQ01B9FHPBrI/s777/robert%20burns.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="777" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_bOW6JwHd-3NP473EhcGukvKbbxjQ4U53pSrlYUrY5ja2pgsURNsXUNgYFI4oLylGQB1Os43nyYpnJDX7td9J94YwI_zixRIUVm6ioX-dkFtbauOXKBkRowvLcciI6oX9PcmKu97MGRHlNw4tUYwC3tow5hvA_lRJ2vC0bC1Sj9ih9B_iQ01B9FHPBrI/w330-h400/robert%20burns.jpg" width="330" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Did the eighteenth-century
Scottish poet <b>Robert Burns</b> (and his poem “Farewell to Eliza”) influence the
formation of “Liza Jane” songs? <i>Poor Gal</i> explores this possibility in
the book’s first “intermission,” as well as potential influences from nineteenth
century American songs and poetry. Notably, Robert Burns enjoyed widespread
popularity in the United States when the first “Liza Jane” songs likely
developed.<br /></span><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4286HDtJNf5WLW9zQ2pUtM46THwz_YIygG0orI1WOzVmV8AhvIjiHFGrWrxYNMN_rFLLv_9Yayt5v6GAOoIXSs0slOjhQhxFxK9_D13-lqqbIBT-iNAzi8fSCOjauN5jgZ6Ta1qs6jOVf5PrwP51yRrPeZlgb0suq_gZfrihJ1KdHQfZRydp6XEfnfSz/s930/burleigh.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4286HDtJNf5WLW9zQ2pUtM46THwz_YIygG0orI1WOzVmV8AhvIjiHFGrWrxYNMN_rFLLv_9Yayt5v6GAOoIXSs0slOjhQhxFxK9_D13-lqqbIBT-iNAzi8fSCOjauN5jgZ6Ta1qs6jOVf5PrwP51yRrPeZlgb0suq_gZfrihJ1KdHQfZRydp6XEfnfSz/w275-h400/burleigh.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />An influential
friendship developed between student-composer <b>Harry T. Burleigh</b> and Antonín
Dvořák, when the Czech composer became director of the National Conservatory of
Music in New York, in 1892. Burleigh was quite fond of “Liza Jane” and it is likely
that he sang the song for his friend and mentor. This episode is developed in Chapter
XV, one that also connects Nina Simone, David Bowie, and Langston Hughes to the
expansive “Liza Jane” constellation.<br /><br /></span></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8HDANh1uIxajfOLuO7WZlz0b7AGgWfbtHLIaHUnhDblGoJaBtYTBHdEeWyHIyQSnMfUR1wcu-BtzT_yZcjXufmjvqZX-f8PKHVihKzomZB5sWw791YKQQAIx-QMi31GnIG5yFlOgZsva8wt4W879trk2zOUgcV6m61TJT5oakutIgKZq27HY8l2ycPnw/s640/george%20w%20johnson%201898.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="640" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8HDANh1uIxajfOLuO7WZlz0b7AGgWfbtHLIaHUnhDblGoJaBtYTBHdEeWyHIyQSnMfUR1wcu-BtzT_yZcjXufmjvqZX-f8PKHVihKzomZB5sWw791YKQQAIx-QMi31GnIG5yFlOgZsva8wt4W879trk2zOUgcV6m61TJT5oakutIgKZq27HY8l2ycPnw/w400-h325/george%20w%20johnson%201898.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmN2m6hrQ1afA65ApzhncAMGlX3gF1y3KI3Lx5Eh8a53OX5omrm36zFycmhVXpKwSP03ILmzxBjdcwieUYS3I2DXizmlFKM81kbvS4xVvE8Lj64uaQ0kuFNnjt0uljwqGA5MbtP90UFi3oT21e51_bQu2xMxQL1iEGduvi5rD8wFuKxlAbnIs3HX7dgayA/s432/ArthurCollins.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="320" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmN2m6hrQ1afA65ApzhncAMGlX3gF1y3KI3Lx5Eh8a53OX5omrm36zFycmhVXpKwSP03ILmzxBjdcwieUYS3I2DXizmlFKM81kbvS4xVvE8Lj64uaQ0kuFNnjt0uljwqGA5MbtP90UFi3oT21e51_bQu2xMxQL1iEGduvi5rD8wFuKxlAbnIs3HX7dgayA/w296-h400/ArthurCollins.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">George W. Johnson (t) and Arthur Collins (b)</div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />“Liza Jane” songs
attained “hit” status in the early recording era. Among others, African
American star <b>George W. Johnson</b> (in 1898) and baritone <b>Arthur Collins</b> (in 1903) both
produced popular versions of “Goodbye Liza Jane.” The former reclaimed a variant
that had flourished in minstrelsy while the latter performed a Tin Pan Alley
number. These efforts are discussed across various chapters that measure how
societal forces acted upon early recordings of “Liza Jane.”<br /><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeOlsTMutlA2cGDK-MJHn0f6Rk1qng6oZUbwoM7YUKKbH-JZM3Cs5dr9ieddSObLWeilQJiJW3iRg-wnpsn-3XxyVXdhavFZ7qiihuOYgs2QltCkrLGG2kxcR3xhNVuxwF6ko4tM2wRmZJ-Oj6qjmcI884NYo_aMuco_o078Cz1cTxl1z93P9K-8coY9l/s640/ruth%20chatterton.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="636" data-original-width="640" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeOlsTMutlA2cGDK-MJHn0f6Rk1qng6oZUbwoM7YUKKbH-JZM3Cs5dr9ieddSObLWeilQJiJW3iRg-wnpsn-3XxyVXdhavFZ7qiihuOYgs2QltCkrLGG2kxcR3xhNVuxwF6ko4tM2wRmZJ-Oj6qjmcI884NYo_aMuco_o078Cz1cTxl1z93P9K-8coY9l/w400-h398/ruth%20chatterton.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Actress, aviatrix, and novelist <b>Ruth Chatterton</b> may have
been most responsible for popularizing “Little Liza Jane” in the World War I
era. Unlike “Goodbye Liza Jane,” this variant likely did not feature in
minstrelsy, and instead, was popularized by Chatterton from 1916-1917 during
more than 200 performances of a Broadway play. Chatterton’s influence is
chronicled in chapter XI of <i>Poor Gal</i>, which also introduces the
enigmatic composer Countess Ada de Lachau.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9nhighwoNNc8sYWbUHArDb8patOcl65ZL5PfS8lu-qTXPEWIoSEJJlRnFkizv3kFA4E9zszKI7sPCEj1K2ZJqrd_rAgb1X1MnqFtt6bvC5eXtYINP34cxUpO9jSzKwNfa_Lq76rDuejpOH45znyTKR7ThhyphenhyphenBZtf_EoiH_gjWJv-iWIWBAfvdd3c36WPn/s826/cackle%20sisters.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="826" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9nhighwoNNc8sYWbUHArDb8patOcl65ZL5PfS8lu-qTXPEWIoSEJJlRnFkizv3kFA4E9zszKI7sPCEj1K2ZJqrd_rAgb1X1MnqFtt6bvC5eXtYINP34cxUpO9jSzKwNfa_Lq76rDuejpOH45znyTKR7ThhyphenhyphenBZtf_EoiH_gjWJv-iWIWBAfvdd3c36WPn/w310-h400/cackle%20sisters.jpg" width="310" /></a></span></div><p></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Beginning in the
1930s, two young musicians known as the <b>DeZurik Sisters</b> or the <b>Cackle Sisters</b>
appeared on syndicated radio shows all over the country. They became especially
famous for their virtuosic imitations of chickens. And of course, they sang about
“Liza Jane.” The Cackle Sisters are discussed in Chapter XIII of <i>Poor Gal</i>,
alongside other big-audience moments in popular films, television programs, early
animations, and radio shows. <br /></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyizkCJXf6kG8o9zwMRh0doLMHBmRnyZU29m0pJgMTcTvkQ16v7yPq5q8SeSQwGQ3Ccy_0rYLZYnLgns6U0OOXoorcVEt3y5UZlKsbaSx-EHbD-3dAA-1cF2TBUnnFaJ1Mqrp60Z6dFE4o1Fk_Fe6pSQx1bmEWuQqXOJPcc1P-4EV5tuMq8ahCVS0pfUV/s999/roland%20kirk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="999" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyizkCJXf6kG8o9zwMRh0doLMHBmRnyZU29m0pJgMTcTvkQ16v7yPq5q8SeSQwGQ3Ccy_0rYLZYnLgns6U0OOXoorcVEt3y5UZlKsbaSx-EHbD-3dAA-1cF2TBUnnFaJ1Mqrp60Z6dFE4o1Fk_Fe6pSQx1bmEWuQqXOJPcc1P-4EV5tuMq8ahCVS0pfUV/w256-h400/roland%20kirk.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br />The multi-instrumentalist <b>Rahsaan Roland Kirk</b> loved performing
“Little Liza Jane” and on one occasion told a colorful onstage story about the
original Liza Jane. <i>Poor Gal</i> examines this moment in the book’s final
chapter, in an exploration of Liza Jane’s identity. In the end, we may never
know who inspired the first “Liza Jane” songs but a great number of people
associated these tunes with brightness, levity, and dancing — the indomitable
nature of the human spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Also check out the <i>Poor Gal</i> <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2023/11/poor-gal-cultural-history-of-little.html" target="_blank">Table of Contents</a><br /><br />[*All images sourced from Wikimedia commons and are thought
to be in the public domain.]</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-33902597198384741112023-11-01T12:12:00.003-07:002023-11-26T08:16:07.609-08:00POOR GAL: THE CULTURAL HISTORY OF LITTLE LIZA JANE TABLE OF CONTENTS.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyoYjO9kCwchnXd3wJnYJ9Pztu0oqT4KNNTMOpGdevk7NzdRakPx-VEMlCcOcwQ0SL-JYpAWuUnR8zAULXTaAh2pT6boTfYyeTtOYPAw2H1NY_3WLDGxwn9sIPCOWjpmvQzZbE7EmfnpJvLOsTb600smXVkju57S58Ki9Lt8Hvlf6LgiXq3wjbgxj01MUN/s2776/Gutstein_cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2776" data-original-width="1838" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyoYjO9kCwchnXd3wJnYJ9Pztu0oqT4KNNTMOpGdevk7NzdRakPx-VEMlCcOcwQ0SL-JYpAWuUnR8zAULXTaAh2pT6boTfYyeTtOYPAw2H1NY_3WLDGxwn9sIPCOWjpmvQzZbE7EmfnpJvLOsTb600smXVkju57S58Ki9Lt8Hvlf6LgiXq3wjbgxj01MUN/w265-h400/Gutstein_cover.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Publication info<br /></b><i><br />Poor Gal: The Cultural History of Little Liza Jane</i>,
University Press of Mississippi, November 27, 2023. Available at <a href="https://www.upress.state.ms.us/Books/P/Poor-Gal" target="_blank">UPM website</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Poor-Gal-Cultural-History-American/dp/1496849345/ref=sr_1_4?qid=1698857072&refinements=p_27%3ADan+Gutstein&s=books&sr=1-4&text=Dan+Gutstein" target="_blank">Amazon</a>,
and other online merchants. “Liza Jane” is also the subject of a forthcoming
documentary film; please <a href="https://www.lizajanemovie.com/" target="_blank">visit the project’s website</a> for a trailer, information on the creative team, details
on participating musicians, and ways to support the production. […For even more,
please see a post regarding <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2023/11/from-margaret-walker-to-rahsaan-roland.html" target="_blank">some of the lesser-known characters</a> in <i>Poor Gal</i>;
<i>Poor Gal</i> <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5T5dZEZIz7I9zK5ZWlYZ5g" target="_blank">Spotify playlist</a>; and the <a href="https://www.dangutstein.com/littlelizajane/" target="_blank">author’s website</a>.]<br /><br /><br />Dear Readers, this post is meant, simply, to present <i>Poor Gal’s
</i>Table of Contents: <br /><br /><br />Introduction: Sludge and Theory<br /><br />I. Snotches of Songs: The WPA <i>Slave Narrative Collection<br /><br /></i>II. “Liza Jane,” You Little Rogue: Dr. Adonis and the Regiments<br /><br />III. 1865<br /><br />IV. Intermission Number One: The Potential Influences of
Robert Burns, “Susan Jane,” and Others<br /><br />V. “Liza Jane” Meets the Masses: Postbellum Minstrelsy, Part First and Part
Third<br /><br />VI. From the Bold Soldier Boy’s Songbook to the
Cylinders of George W. Johnson: “Oh, Goodbye Liza Jane”<br /><br />VII. From the New Orleans Levee to the Hampton Institute: “Little
Liza Jane” <i>ad infinitum<br /><br /></i>VIII. Intermission Number Two: The Literary “Liza Jane” of
Charles Chesnutt, Jean Toomer, and Margaret Walker<br /><br />IX. You Went a-Driving with Mister Brown: The Tin Pan Alley
Publishing Bonanza<br /><br />X. Poor Gal<br /><br />XI. I’se Got a Gal and You Got None: A Countess-Composer and
an Actress-Aviatrix Popularize “Li’l Liza Jane”<br /><br />XII. Intermission Number Three: Effie Lee Newsome’s
“Charcoal, Leddy, Charcoal” and Betty Vincent’s “Problems of the Heart”<br /><br />XIII. “Liza Jane” Meets the Media: Film, Animation, Radio,
Television<br /><br />XIV. The Lomaxes<br /><br />XV. The Constellation That Connects Langston Hughes and
David Bowie, Antonín Dvořák and Nina Simone<br /><br />XVI. Portrait of a Young Enslaved Woman Standing Still in the
Cathedral Silence of the Deep Woods after a Dance<br /><br />Appendix 1: Loose Ends<br /><br />Appendix 2: Sheet Music or Notated Music of Major Variants<br /><br /><br />Also included are an Apologia and Acknowledgments in the “front
matter” of the book as well as Notes, Works Cited, and Index at the end of the
book.<br /><br /><br /></span></p><p></p><p><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-58911959669224110892023-10-12T12:12:00.008-07:002024-02-21T19:40:43.780-08:00TAKE A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE: FIVE NEARLY-FORGOTTEN SHAKERS THAT WILL DRIVE US PERFECTLY BLOTTO INTO EACH OTHER’S ARMS. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbG56VDqCrpMHDZDbS6C3utJRDYStVXRiy0xA3I25UTXrqeD-itReRBwM0gL971R5NlcJXkx5M0OdgfkXwoICl8pINoHLHpcK2gpI2_fymoqWkYJk1j9FbhuY1YKtTUgGltPK0NRI5UG9zpK8UbxMQC1dijy8Ec30YDR-6Wqi6btC4BB5CmOXp-Os3W9e/s547/frankie%20lee%20sims.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="547" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbG56VDqCrpMHDZDbS6C3utJRDYStVXRiy0xA3I25UTXrqeD-itReRBwM0gL971R5NlcJXkx5M0OdgfkXwoICl8pINoHLHpcK2gpI2_fymoqWkYJk1j9FbhuY1YKtTUgGltPK0NRI5UG9zpK8UbxMQC1dijy8Ec30YDR-6Wqi6btC4BB5CmOXp-Os3W9e/w400-h308/frankie%20lee%20sims.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />The great Frankie Lee Sims<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Spanning a seven-year
period from 1957 to 1964, these five <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-shakers-era-nearly-forgotten-period.html" target="_blank">shakers</a> (all of which contain a ‘walk’)
will move our bodies in the proper ways of raucous festivity. You will hear R&B.
You will hear rock ‘n’ roll. To wit, you may learn how walketh the camel, how
walketh the Cossak [<i>sic</i>], how walketh the cat. You will hear rockabilly.
You will hear exotica. You will hear “Whooo-ooo-ooo!” Those who sporteth-not
bosoms and those who sporteth bosoms alike will shake their bosoms. Apparently,
“In wildness is the preservation of the World.” This comes from a bloke named Thoreau,
from an essay entitled (aptly enough) “Walking.” Above all else, these five
nearly-forgotten songs will propel us forward in wildness (and jumping) and in
so doing we shall preserve the world.<br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ubFzxcU0KA4" width="320" youtube-src-id="ubFzxcU0KA4"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Intro</u>: Behold “<b>Walking
With Frankie</b>” — an R&B shaker by Frankie Lee Sims from 1957. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>26-word review</u>: Here, the
walk is a search (if not a prayer) in the registry of a driving pace with mischievous
sax, insinuating guitar, and the gal? Aloof. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Best time and situation to play</u>:
Ten minutes to midnight, when doubt flickers. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Calories burned during the ‘walk’</u>:
Enough “for us to get together and be as two” (listen to the song).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Notes</u>: A cousin to Lightnin’
Hopkins and noted innovator within the idiom of postwar Texas blues, Sims
released only a handful of 45s during his lifetime although he did record enough
material (circa 1960) for at least one LP. He served three years in the Marine
Corps during World War II. He was, therefore, a soldier & a musician. We
thank him for both. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Discography</u>: Frankie Lee
Sims. “Walking With Frankie” A-side b/w “Hey Little Girl” B-side. Ace Records
527. 1957. Jackson, Mississippi. Likely personnel: Frankie Lee Sims (vocals and
guitar); Jack White (tenor saxophone); Willie Taylor (piano); Ralph Morgan
(bass); Jimmy Mullins aka Mercy Baby (drums). Other musicians, if any, unknown.
Composition credit: Frankie Lee Sims and John Vincent. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/k2BzKNjxIjI" width="320" youtube-src-id="k2BzKNjxIjI"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Intro</u>: Behold “<b>Camel
Walk</b>” — a rock ‘n’ roll shaker by The Original Starfires from 1959. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>26-word review</u>: Each of us
has four limbs, same as the camel, and the sultry instructions may be obvious,
but nevertheless, what do we do with the hump? <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Best time and situation to play</u>:
Round about 2am when everyone is blotto. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Calories burned during the ‘walk’</u>:
Enough to cover the 3am pancakes & stout run. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Notes</u>: We detect a little bit
of Fats Domino’s “Ain’t That A Shame” here and there — when the musicians decide to
reassure us (somewhat). The ‘camel walk’ was a dance fad that reached regal heights
with the likes of James Brown performing the moves onstage. There is also a
surprising version (with church bells) by Magic Sam. Lots o’ camels. Lots o’
walks. Yep. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Discography</u>: The Original
Starfires. “Camel Walk” A-side b/w “Fender Bender” B-side. Pace Records P-101. 1959.
New York. Musicians unknown [“Starfires” was a popular band name; some online
speculation indicates that this band hailed from Florida.] Instrumentation
likely includes lead and rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and saxophone. Composition
credit: Jim Ford. [Also released on APT Records, a subsidiary of ABC
Paramount.]<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PHVx5mW2QVU" width="320" youtube-src-id="PHVx5mW2QVU"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Intro</u>: Behold “<b>Cossak Walk</b>”
[<i>sic</i>]— an R&B shaker by Al Duncan from 1962. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>26-word review</u>: Cultures
collide when an African American groove-drummer reimagines “The Twist” as a
Cossack dance with an absolute MONSTER baritone sax prevailing. Wtf? as the kids
say. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Best time and situation to play</u>:
To shock a party back into its fundamental mission, as when Sha Na Na or Billy
Joel needs to be decisively cleansed from the air. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Calories burned during the ‘walk’</u>:
Enough to scale a peak in the Caucasus region. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Notes</u>: Not to get too deep
into the weeds, but Eugene Chadbourne writing in <i>All Music Guide to the
Blues</i> calls this recording the work of an “obscure rockabilly dude” and not
the legendary drummer Al Duncan, but we think Mr. Chadbourne is mistaken. This does
appear to be the work of “one of the forefathers of groove” (and his
collaborator Johnny Pate). We agree with Mr. Chadbourne on everything else,
including how Duncan helped to develop the fundamental timekeeping or “metric
feeling” of R&B. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Discography</u>: Al Duncan.
“Cossak Walk (Twisting in Moscow)” A-side b/w “Bawana Jinde” B-side. Stacy
Records 933 XM. 1962. Chicago. Likely personnel: Al Duncan (drums) and Johnny
Pate (bass); other musicians unknown. Composition credit: Johnny Pate.<br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QNaOmPSshuM" width="320" youtube-src-id="QNaOmPSshuM"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Intro</u>: Behold “<b>Cat Walk</b>”—
a rock ‘n’ roll shaker by Tiny Fuller from 1963. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>26-word review</u>: Played
ostensibly to drown-out the racketing sound of the freight train, the song startlingly
projects the same locomotion that it’s meant to obscure. Which is which? <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Best time and situation to play</u>:
10pm when nothing has been broken (yet). <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Calories burned during the ‘walk’</u>:
Enough to wrassle that swordfish on the record. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Notes</u>: This rockabilly
guitarist is nearly a complete mystery. What else can we say? The sound is not “tiny.”
The harmonicaist cooperates. Perhaps the snippets of voice echo the yelps,
etc., of western swing bandleader Bob Wills. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Discography</u>: Tiny Fuller
and His Combo. “Cat Walk” A-side b/w “Shock” B-side. Marlin Records 6301. 1963.
Memphis, Tennessee. Personnel: Tiny Fuller (guitar); other musicians unknown. Composition
credit: Tiny Fuller<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dpMLVkpEhdQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="dpMLVkpEhdQ"></iframe></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Intro</u>: Behold “<b>I’ll Walk
A Mile</b>”— an R&B shaker by Bob Marriott and the Continentals from 1964. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>26-word review</u>: A pleading,
howling, grooving piece that situates despair and triumph nearby as the singer
confronts the dynamics of uncertainty: “take me in your arms” + “Whooo-ooo-oooo!”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Best time and situation to play</u>:
Anytime you’re in trouble with your sweetie pie. (Usually late at night after an
understandable miscue.)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Calories burned during the ‘walk’</u>:
Enough to “walk a mile” at which point your sweetie pie will (usually) relent. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><u>Notes</u>: This was an
integrated group, with an African American singer fronting a quartet of white
musicians. The leader and his bandmates were inducted into the Kansas City
Music Hall of Fame in 2021. Very deservedly so. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">
<u style="font-family: inherit;">Discography</u><span style="font-family: inherit;">: Bob Marriott and The Continentals. “I’ll Walk
A Mile” B-side b/w “Night Train” A-side. Jayco Records 45-260701/02. 1964.
Kansas City, Missouri. Likely personnel: Bob Marriott (guitar); Chuck Vallent
aka Aubrey Washington (vocals); Larry Hensiek (drums), Cliff Manning (bass), and
Ricky Lee (keyboards); maybe Butch Kelly (instrument unknown); other musicians,
if any, unknown. Composition credit: Chuck Vallent.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpAxm3cOpgLzW9-m54yaPtg33fGwFXKEx8ekcAUMbTo2xEq_xW64ivhCOtAltEGg4yUIfp7Wcf0caVPf8ItdEwojP0ARhnw5N11k4DoACeiNvkCCprb4mFv1QoSao0iicjuNSQR3b5JeAkgzEPVW90-qOeQDK0cHcRsxgp5l2p-k76kXHDlYKAiuNvbvS/s599/bob%20marriott.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="467" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpAxm3cOpgLzW9-m54yaPtg33fGwFXKEx8ekcAUMbTo2xEq_xW64ivhCOtAltEGg4yUIfp7Wcf0caVPf8ItdEwojP0ARhnw5N11k4DoACeiNvkCCprb4mFv1QoSao0iicjuNSQR3b5JeAkgzEPVW90-qOeQDK0cHcRsxgp5l2p-k76kXHDlYKAiuNvbvS/w311-h400/bob%20marriott.jpg" width="311" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bob Marriott and the (fabulous!) Continentals<br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sources of
information<br /></b></span></span>Eugene Chadbourne. “Al Duncan.” <i>AllMusic Guide to the
Blues</i>. Backbeat Books, 2003<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/933xm">page</a>
for Al Duncan release on Stacy<br /><i>Billboard</i> May 19, 1962<br />Discogs <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/11966231-Bob-Marriott-And-The-Continentals-Night-Train-Ill-Walk-A-Mile">page</a>
for Bob Marriott release on Jayco<br />Discogs <a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/1293547-The-Original-Starfires-Fender-Bender-Camel-Walk">page</a>
for The Original Starfires release on Pace<br />Discogs <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/2790630-Tiny-Fuller-And-His-Combo-Cat-Walk-Shock">page</a>
for Tiny Fuller release on Marlin<br />Discogs <a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/883103-Frankie-Lee-Sims-Walking-With-Frankie-Hey-Little-Girl">page</a>
for Frankie Lee Sims release on Ace <br />Edward M. Komara, editor. <i>Encyclopedia of the Blues</i>.
Routledge, 2006<br />Jazz Discography <a href="http://www.jazzdiscography.com/Artists/Higgins/HEHIssues.php">page</a>
for Eddie Higgins (includes information on Al Duncan and Johnny Pate)<br />Kansas City Music Hall of Fame <a href="https://www.ksmhof.org/2021-inductees/">page</a> for 2021 inductees, including
Marriott and his band<br />Krazy Kat <a href="https://www.wirz.de/music/krazykat/grafik/7428b4.jpg">liner notes</a> for
<i>Walkin’ With Frankie</i> LP<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Al_Duncan">page</a>
for Al Duncan<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankie_Lee_Sims">page</a> for Frankie Lee
Sims<br />Wirz discography <a href="https://www.wirz.de/music/barrelho.htm">page</a> for Barrelhouse Records
(establishes Tiny Fuller as a guitarist)<br />Wirz discography <a href="https://www.wirz.de/music/sims.htm">page</a>
for Frankie Lee Sims <br /><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">This “Walking” post is
part of a double issue, Dear Reader. Do you need to RUN instead? If so, please
see “<a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2023/10/run-like-femke-bol.html" target="_blank"><b>Run Like Femke Bol</b></a>.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p></div></div></div></div><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-3304628858916394672023-10-12T11:43:00.005-07:002023-10-12T20:49:35.128-07:00RUN LIKE FEMKE BOL. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3L8Y0Ntb3Sr4t5I4Fqj1OnFC5JvU1yaOYcoy_bKhlXqDyStowxItyVCAtviMw2UvQwhDbjHcoOGfLZDzO8i95msivZBlbFHxPY0dPsME040oTwFuVRbZAEny_G7xduLSASOB9JyzTIBP-fnmXq9s1ZkO1M41av6CrLJCX1IrG2IaoV5h12Yx7L2qgUJGa/s4032/IMG_5890.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3L8Y0Ntb3Sr4t5I4Fqj1OnFC5JvU1yaOYcoy_bKhlXqDyStowxItyVCAtviMw2UvQwhDbjHcoOGfLZDzO8i95msivZBlbFHxPY0dPsME040oTwFuVRbZAEny_G7xduLSASOB9JyzTIBP-fnmXq9s1ZkO1M41av6CrLJCX1IrG2IaoV5h12Yx7L2qgUJGa/w400-h300/IMG_5890.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />Sheer joy after a shocking comeback.</div> <br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">We begin this post, well, at the finish line. The setting
is: the women’s 4x400-meter relay at the 2023 World Championships in Budapest.
Three top teams — Jamaica, Great Britain, and the Netherlands — vied for the lead
throughout the race. Entering the anchor leg, Jamaica had a good lead, with
Great Britain following in second and the Netherlands a bit farther back in
third. Yet the Dutch anchor was Femke Bol, a gifted athlete who had something
to prove. Yes, she’d won gold at her signature event — the 400-meter hurdles — but
had fallen right near the finish line in the mixed (i.e., men’s and women’s) 4x400
relay, disqualifying the team.<br /><br />Often enough, writer-types (and other types) dismiss the importance
of athletic competition, but they couldn’t be more mistaken. Overcoming a significant
deficit right at the finish line, Femke Bol reminds us all to “believe in your
game” and “keep pushing despite long odds” and “run for your teammates” or your
community. This is not meant to take anything away from Jamaica and Great
Britain whose athletes are world-class and whose teams finished second and
third, respectively, by mere fractions of a second. They too were magnificent
and earned their spots on the podium.<br /><br />For me, anyhow, Femke Bol ran a race that depended on the
craft of her calm, upright posture as well as the edginess of her finish — the great
move she made at the end, when she sprinted for all she was worth. It is one of
the greatest comebacks of all time. Her teammates are Eveline Saalberg, who ran
the first leg; Lieke Klaver, who ran a magnificent second leg; and Cathelijn
Peeters, who ran the third leg. To be fair, they all played a big role, and Femke
Bol didn’t win the race by herself.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t take my word for it though. Check out the
following videos, which explore the results from a couple of different perspectives. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Laten we gaan!</i><br /></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5sqONbzUmzc" width="320" youtube-src-id="5sqONbzUmzc"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The whole race. <br /><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Cu1w7GXDXo8" width="320" youtube-src-id="Cu1w7GXDXo8"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />The race, as seen from the perspective of<br />two teammates cheering from the stands<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal;">This “Running” post is part of a double issue, Dear Reader. Would you rather
walk, instead? Check out <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2023/10/take-walk-on-wild-side-five-nearly.html" target="_blank"><b>these five walkers</b></a> — but be prepared to jump! And shake!</span></div></div><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-47411834253391892122023-09-04T10:28:00.002-07:002023-09-04T10:52:53.539-07:00HAVE MERCY BABY: TWO SHAKERS THAT WILL STOMP AWAY ALL THE PLEADIN' & LYIN'. <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/xuwg6qANS7w" width="320" youtube-src-id="xuwg6qANS7w"></iframe></div><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Behold “Pleadin’” (above) and “Don’t Lie to Me” (below). A singer
& drummer named Mercy Baby aka Julius W. “Jimmy” Mullins recorded these wild
R&B numbers in the late 1950s on the now-defunct New Orleans label Ric
Records. We suggest you medicate yourself appropriately and then consider the
following 10 observations as you listen to these rollicking tracks.<br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">10 Things to Consider
About This Release<br /></span></b><br />1. Mercy Baby is a pretty good stage name.<br />2. The drumming (by Mercy) and the hollering (by Mercy) are quite
propulsive.<br />3. Notably, the guitar is played by one Frankie Lee Sims, a cousin
of Lightnin’ Hopkins.<br />4. Never underestimate the B-side! Especially for the horns.<br />5. The topics – pleading and lying – seem to go
hand-in-hand.<br />6. Apparently, pleading and lying can be great reasons to
jump around!<br />7. Neither of these records prospered. Mr. Mullins himself
died of a gunshot wound.<br />8. Once again great American music associates with tragedy
and a paucity of commercial success.<br />9. These tunes appear in the very formidable <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-shakers-era-nearly-forgotten-period.html">Shakers
Era</a>.<br />10. Grab yr Sweetie Pie. Turn up the sound. & Shake
everything on yr body!<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2f_8OqRLWVo" width="320" youtube-src-id="2f_8OqRLWVo"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>Discographic Information<br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>Mercy Baby. “Pleadin’” (A-side) b/w “Don’t Lie to Me” (B-side). Ric Records
955. Recorded in 1957 or 1958 in Jackson, Mississippi or in New Orleans. (Probably
released in 1958; potentially released late as 1960). Likely personnel: Mercy
Baby aka Julius W. “Jimmy” Mullins (drums and vocals); Jacquette Brooks
(saxophone); Jack White (saxophone); Willie Taylor (piano); Frankie Lee Sims
(guitar); Ralph Morgan (bass); other musicians, if any, unknown. Songwriting
credit: Jimmy Mullins and Joe Ruffino.<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><b style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">Sources of Information</b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>Discogs <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/3760368-Mercy-Baby-Pleadin-Dont-Lie-To-Me">page</a>
for the release on Ric Records<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/955">page</a>
for the release on Ric Records<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ric_Records">page</a>
for Ric Records<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mercy_Baby">page</a>
for Mercy Baby<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankie_Lee_Sims">page</a> for Frankie Lee
Sims<br />Cosimo Code <a href="http://cosimocode.com/ricandron.html">page</a>
for Ric and Ron Records<br />Jeff Hannusch. <i><a href="https://archive.org/details/ihearyouknockins00hann">I Hear You Knockin’:
The Sound of New Orleans Rhythm and Blues</a></i>. Swallow Publications, 1989<br />Jeff Hannusch. <i>The Soul of New Orleans: A Legacy of Rhythm
and Blues</i>. Swallow Publications, 2001<br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>Stefan Wirz discography </span><a href="https://www.wirz.de/music/simsfrm.htm">page</a></span><span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for Frankie Lee Sims<br /></span><br /><br /></span></p><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-3269712613139880872023-08-01T11:37:00.001-07:002024-02-21T19:48:08.624-08:00KID THOMAS AND MAC REBENNACK REMIND US TO SWING MADLY WITH THESE BLISTERING SHAKERS FROM 1959. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eZJMslUTVmN7eAAFMdjLGkiJlXGiO1eIjDZGBRpi6FH0BZWSrPiXRNSdTeq0hKk8Xjg8g-yXKPHF2XYHJw3yvoVHM1A94ZHH7ul1R8vM0S7v7fQDz5D2t8fmtWbO7YR8buKmQZVsQZwSq16faE4X1QI950XRvnY5SjfP4SBGWB5Ivnpe2AWLMijWypOQ/s775/mac%20r%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="775" data-original-width="657" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eZJMslUTVmN7eAAFMdjLGkiJlXGiO1eIjDZGBRpi6FH0BZWSrPiXRNSdTeq0hKk8Xjg8g-yXKPHF2XYHJw3yvoVHM1A94ZHH7ul1R8vM0S7v7fQDz5D2t8fmtWbO7YR8buKmQZVsQZwSq16faE4X1QI950XRvnY5SjfP4SBGWB5Ivnpe2AWLMijWypOQ/w339-h400/mac%20r%201.jpg" width="339" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A young Mac Rebennack aka Dr. John</span><br /><br /></div><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Behold “Rockin’
This Joint To-Nite” and “Storm Warning” <br /><br />
</span></b>Both of these <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-shakers-era-nearly-forgotten-period.html" target="_blank">shakers</a> will rattle your marbles if you play them
loudly and you should play them loudly, Dear Reader, so beware the jostled
immies in your noggins. Both songs travel to us from 1959. The musicians who
recorded them led vastly different lives. One died in obscurity and tragically
at that. The other reached considerable heights. Nonetheless, both tunes
predict mischief and both deliver. Amply. They deserve our devotion so let’s get
to jumping! Shall we?<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3P9YR47Od0Y" width="320" youtube-src-id="3P9YR47Od0Y"></iframe></div><br /><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br />Kid Thomas – “Rockin’
This Joint To-Nite”</span></b> <p></p><p>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The man who would eventually call himself Kid
Thomas was born Louis Thomas Watts in Mississippi, circa 1934. He moved to
Chicago with his family at a young age and eventually began gigging in South Side clubs. In 1957, he convinced the mighty King Records to
record several songs but the company only released one of them on its
subsidiary label, Federal. This one single did not chart or generate any
recognition for the harmonica-playing bluesman. Having gotten little traction
in the Chicago music scene, Kid Thomas relocated to Los Angeles in 1959 where
he cut “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” b/w “You Are an Angel” on a micro-label,
Transcontinental Records. <br />
<br />
Easily one of the roughest-sounding, hardest-charging songs of its generation, the
lyrics for “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” may have been hollered in emulation of
Little Richard, but the side occupies its own terrain somewhere between the
jump blues efforts of Chris Powell and Jimmy Preston, the Chicago electric
blues idiom, and the proto heavy metal developed by the controversial Pat Hare
in the mid-1950s. The ferocious shouting, amped-up harmonica, and relentless
guitar will rock the joint to-nite, to-morrow nite, and every other nite.
Unfortunately, “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” did not achieve commercial success.
<br />
<br />
Kid Thomas had few additional recording opportunities in Los Angeles and, by
1969, was working in L.A. as a landscaper. In that capacity, he accidentally
struck a boy with his lawnmowing equipment in 1969 and killed him. A few months
later, the boy’s father waited for Kid Thomas / Louis Watts outside a courthouse
and shot him to death. There is just too much sadness in this outcome to swing
this concluding note upward, but the ferocity of Kid Thomas’s record nevertheless ought to
remind us about living large, larger-than-life, while we still have the opportunity to
do so.</span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ic6IRuUhX0o" width="320" youtube-src-id="Ic6IRuUhX0o"></iframe></div><br /><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br />Mac Rebennack –
“Storm Warning”</span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Yes, someone recorded a song under the absolutely devastating,
winning name of Mac Rebennack. Born Malcolm John Rebennack, Jr., the fellow in question
would go on to call himself by a moniker—Dr. John—you may very well recognize. A
New Orleans native, Dr. John began his recording career as a teenager, and would
come to blend the rich Nola music he inherited along with voodoo, psychedelia, and
other genres. Eventually, he became a member of the famous group of session
musicians known as The Wrecking Crew, a winner of six Grammys, and an inductee
into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame. His albums such as <i>Gris-Gris</i> (1968)
and <i>Gumbo</i> (1972) are well-known, important, and have received critical praise.
We here at Blood And Gutstein especially appreciate <i>Gumbo</i> because he
included a version of the folk song—“<a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/04/oh-liza-variations-origins-and-americas.html" target="_blank">Little Liza Jane</a>”—that features America’s favorite Poor Gal<br /><br />Dr. John cut the instrumental “Storm Warning” as a seventeen-year-old
guitarist in New Orleans. He molded it in the “Bo Diddley vein” and the song
would go on to become a regional hit. We can understand why. First of all, Dr.
John / Mac Rebennack discredits the entire notion of “the calm before the
storm.” The song serves the dual purpose of predicting the “house rocking” to
come as well as actually rocking the house. A “storm warning” generated by a New
Orleans musician more than likely refers to a hurricane, and in this case, it’s
the two saxophonists—Lee Allen on tenor and Alvin “Red” Tyler on bari—who do the
hurricane-force blowing. In fact, Tyler really jumps the piece about halfway
through. He unleashes some muscular phrasing upon the groovy ladder that Rebennack,
et. al., offer via guitar, bass, keys, and drums.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">As a teenager, Rebennack obeyed an impulse to rock
hard. He didn’t reinvent instrumental rock ‘n’ roll with this piece but, at the
same time, he substantially swung the proceedings. He also chose saxophone as
the soloing instrument in a genre that was increasingly turning to the electric
guitar for this kind of statement. Of course, coming from New Orleans, Dr. John
would naturally choose a horn to represent the virtuosity of the soloist, a practice that
another Nola musician—a cornetist / trumpeter named <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2010/09/am-pluto-waterly-yours.html" target="_blank">Louis Armstrong</a>—established a few decades earlier
and, in doing so, in establishing the importance of soloing, would change
American music forever. </span><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Best Practices When
Listening to These Songs <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dear Reader, we advise you to adopt the following protocols:<br />—Liquid refreshments (e.g., corn liquor) wouldn’t hurt, but swill
these in moderation.<br />—Put on some sensible slacks! <br />—Engage your core.<br />—Jump by squatting down low, then propelling yourself into
the air. Repeat often.<br />—Above all else, invite your sweetie pie to join you. If you
don’t have a sweetie pie, then invite a nice companion to join you. This hardy
soul may—just may—turn into a sweetie pie, especially if you’ve observed all
the other best practices given above. Oi.<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwDJ1awzlEBPn9NtC7FuVT3a6YZGTnlX8E5Z8r17qFlWOmC3E_28uFApi1Cdq4fI5fsqI2t51XfD-cqyoJA6UsIPuGBBdvjd4XzPscJUZoxSGvtmbafI2GihsOvLWQAoaTKNJBmL2dqc1KveTx5JqskXmczD00RwuQBZmGL2jI6OwmoQQGErc8x-CbZxy/s312/kid%20thomas%20picture.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="247" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwDJ1awzlEBPn9NtC7FuVT3a6YZGTnlX8E5Z8r17qFlWOmC3E_28uFApi1Cdq4fI5fsqI2t51XfD-cqyoJA6UsIPuGBBdvjd4XzPscJUZoxSGvtmbafI2GihsOvLWQAoaTKNJBmL2dqc1KveTx5JqskXmczD00RwuQBZmGL2jI6OwmoQQGErc8x-CbZxy/w254-h320/kid%20thomas%20picture.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Kid Thomas</span></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">Discographic
Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” A-side b/w B-side “You Are an
Angel.” Transcontinental T-1012, Hollywood, Calif., 1959. Kid Thomas aka Louis
Thomas Watts (vocals, harmonica). Other musicians, potentially including two
guitars, drums, and any other instruments, unknown. Songwriting credit: Kid
Thomas and Brad Atwood.<br /><br />“Storm Warning” A-side b/w B-side Foolish Little Girl. Rex 1008, New Orleans,
1959. Likely personnel: Mac Rebennack aka Dr. John (guitar); Allen Toussaint
(keyboards); Frank Fields (bass); Charles Williams (drums); Lee Allen (tenor
sax); Alvin “Red” Tyler (baritone sax); and Melvin Lastie (trumpet). Other
musicians, if any, unknown. Songwriting credit: Rebennack.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> <br /></o:p><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>Sources of Information<br /></b></span></span>Dr. John and Jack Rummel, <i>Under a Hoodoo Moon</i>, St.
Martin’s Publishing Group, 1995<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/nc723124us">page</a>
for “Storm Warning”<br />Album Liner notes <a href="http://albumlinernotes.com/Dr_John_Anthology.html">page</a> for a Dr.
John anthology<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr._John">page</a> for Dr. John<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kid_Thomas_(musician)">page</a> for Kid
Thomas<br />AllMusic <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/artist/kid-thomas-mn0000072279/biography">page</a>
for Kid Thomas<br />Bear Family Records <a href="https://www.bear-family.com/thomas-kid/">page</a> for Kid Thomas<br />Mike Leadbitter and Neil Slaven, <i>Blues Records, January
1943 to December 1966</i>, Hanover Books, 1968. (Contains session information
for the 1959 Thomas recording.) <br /><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-18428088624488851552023-07-14T13:03:00.005-07:002023-07-14T13:06:14.559-07:00YOU MAY WALK THE STREETS AT SUNDOWN LOOKING FOR (1) TROUBLE OR (2) A NEW SWEETIE PIE AFTER LISTENING TO THESE TORRID SHAKERS BY THE SCARLETS FROM 1959. <p style="text-align: center;"> <iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SFjBBA9exEU" width="320" youtube-src-id="SFjBBA9exEU"></iframe></p><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Behold “Park Avenue”
(above) and “Stampede” (below), two instrumental shakers recorded in 1959 by
The Scarlets, a group that would release only one 45 before morphing into
another group, or disbanding, or running riot. To be fair, it’s always possible
they power-walked or jogged riot. “Park Avenue” is the B-side, but we present
it first because we prefer it just a smidgen better than “Stampede.” We admit
that “Park Avenue” is brighter; “Stampede” is more malevolent. Still, we prefer
the B-side, slightly. And in case you haven’t noticed, we specialize in bands
like The Scarlets, who poked their heads out for just one recording session in
1959 — during that fertile <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-shakers-era-nearly-forgotten-period.html">Shakers
Era</a> between the appearance of Elvis and the British Invasion of the Beatles
et. al.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">After listening to “Stampede” we feel like walking the hot
summer streets at sundown just looking to heist — or hoist — an armored car. It
doesn’t matter, heist or hoist, we’re just fairly jacked up. With “Park Avenue”
on the other hand, we want to walk the hot summer streets at sundown and find
us some new sweetie pies. We want to tell them all sorts of tales about
ourselves — “we just <i>heisted</i> an armored car” — “we just <i>hoisted</i>
an armored car” — before whirling them about a dance floor to the strains of
that phat saxophone. O, we have torrid affairs with our new sweetie pies, and O,
our new sweetie pies have torrid affairs with us. (For couple of minutes,
anyhow. . . . . It’s all very innocent fwiw.)<br /></span><br />As for you, Dear Readers, skip the heisting and hoisting and
go right for the new sweetie pies. We suppose you can keep your old sweetie pies
if you must. The key thing is to medicate yourselves (in moderation) and prepare
to jump (knee high?) when that phat sax arrives.<br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/LEtBbWkwfbI" width="320" youtube-src-id="LEtBbWkwfbI"></iframe></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Discography and
Personnel: <br />
</span></b>“Stampede” b/w “Park Avenue.” Dot Records 16004, Hollywood, Calif.
(1959). Also released on Prince Records PR 1207, Hollywood, Calif. (1959). Likely
personnel: Tony Lepard (drums); John Sanzone (guitar); Pete Antonio aka Pete
Antell (lead guitar); Bert Salmirs (piano); Howard Herman (saxophone); unknown
additional musicians may include a second saxophone and upright bass. Composition
credits: Wally Zober, Bert Salmirs, and Pete Antonio (“Stampede”); Wally Zober
and Bert Salmirs (“Park Avenue”).<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Earlier on, the band may have been known as Tony Leopard and
the Spots before changing to other names such as the Escorts and the Scarlets.
Antell, Salmirs, and Herman went on to have lengthy careers in music. Sanzone
seems to have been a Vietnam Veteran who served in the U.S. Navy. Not much is
known about Lepard and any of the other musicians who may have played on these
tracks.<br /></span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br /><b style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">Sources of
information:</b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Discogs </span><a href="https://www.discogs.com/artist/2755371-The-Scarlets-3" style="font-family: inherit;">page</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for The
Scarlets<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Howard Herman </span><a href="https://www.howardherman.com/biography.html" style="font-family: inherit;">website</a><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Pete Antell </span><a href="https://peteantell.com/home" style="font-family: inherit;">website</a><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">AllMusic </span><a href="https://www.allmusic.com/artist/bert-salmirs-mn0000051799" style="font-family: inherit;">page</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for
Bert Salmirs’ composing credits<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Blogpost with some biographical </span><a href="http://theworldaccordingtofrankbarning.blogspot.com/2011/12/some-old-photos-of-division-avenue.html" style="font-family: inherit;">information</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
on John Sanzone<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">John Clemente. </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Girl Groups: Fabulous Females Who Rocked
the World</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">. Author House, 2013<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">September 28, 1959 </span><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=TQoEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA45&dq=%22the+scarlets%22+%22park+avenue%22+%22stampede%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiq8rTtg4qAAxUHElkFHVtODjsQ6AF6BAgCEAI#v=onepage&q=%22the%20scarlets%22%20%22park%20avenue%22%20%22stampede%22&f=true" style="font-family: inherit;">issue</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
of </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">The Billboard<br /><br /><br /></i></p><br />DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-44296983787016190712023-05-20T10:42:00.002-07:002023-05-20T11:25:56.959-07:00DISRUPTING THE MINDSET OF COMMONPLACE APATHY: JOY ON FIRE’S “WEEKDAY AVE.”<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vYMlot7z6vE" width="320" youtube-src-id="vYMlot7z6vE"></iframe></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Behold “Weekday Ave.” I sometimes consider it to be the jewel
of Joy on Fire’s hard-charging (and mildly charting) 2022 album <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2022/06/joy-on-fire-releases-album-states-of.html"><i>States
of America</i></a>. Your humble blogger served as lyricist and vocalist for said
album, and as you might imagine, Dear Reader, I brought some poetry to the mix.
In this regard, you might detect echoes of Robert Hayden and Paul Celan. See
below for those details, as well as the full lyrics, but first let’s have a look
“under the hood” at the fabulous musicians who provide “Weekday Ave.” with its
formidable pulse. <br /><br />Songwriter and guitarist / bassist John Paul Carillo directs
the highly textured musical expedition of “Weekday Ave.” — one that seamlessly
enters a variety of idioms. The song burns low-medium (or straight up the
middle) with some notable climbing action. While JPC may describe the overall
sound of Joy on Fire as “punk jazz,” this piece resists category. Ultimately, “Weekday
Ave.” offers a potent urban elegy, but not without the energetic stripe of
optimism that courses through the band’s catalogue. <br /><br />Enter saxophonist Anna Meadors, who displays enviable
versatility throughout. She doubles the vocals, chants in opposition to the
vocals, and confers the sort of lyrical statement on saxophones (alto and bari)
that endows the song with most of its emotional content. (She also audio-engineered
the proceedings, including the addition of some synth keyboards.) <br /><br />Drummer Chris Olsen delivers propulsive, off-kilter percussion,
which amply contradicts the typical enervated rhythms found, these days, on a
typical American weekday avenue.<br /><br />The outro is sheer magic, and owes to John’s guitar
communicating with psychedelic themes as well as futuristic content. It should
be retroactively added to the sci-fi flick <i>Blade Runner</i>.<br /><br />As for the lyrics, they are mostly original, but borrow from
two twentieth century poets.<br /><br />If you know Robert Hayden’s masterpiece “Those Winter
Sundays,” then you might recall the phrase “weekday weather” as it applies to
the speaker’s father, whose hands cracked selflessly during manual labor in
just such climatology. From there, I arrived at “Weekday Ave.” — the typical
American thoroughfare capable only of generating “glassy condos,” “cute
t-shirts,” and symbolic outrage during a crisis. The enjoyable play between
“Weekday Ave.” and “weekday haven’t you” ensued straightaway. <br /><br />I drew a little more from post-Holocaust European poet <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2011/03/greatest-poet-paul-celan.html">Paul
Celan</a>, whose lines “Die Welt ist fort // ich muß dich tragen” (“The world
is lost // I must carry you”) ring outward from his 1967 collection, <i>Atemwende</i>,
or <i>Breath-Turn</i>. I invert and jumble these thoughts, with the singer (me)
requiring the burden of being carried. Much of everything returns to love, and
the inward turn we all take, when we lose someone. While Celan may have
intended his lines to read with centripetal gravity, the genius of his language
may reside in its elasticity — and universality. <br /><br />As John’s outro proceeds, the concept of <i>feeling</i>
inwardness springs forth. I suppose there is a difference between <i>inwardness</i>
and <i>feeling</i> inwardness. The way there is a difference between “Weekday
Ave.” and “weekday haven’t you.” The way we might trip along, numbly, without forming
“a thinker’s word.” <br /><br />The lyrics follow below. <i>States of America</i>
can be heard and purchased [<a href="https://joyonfire.bandcamp.com/album/states-of-america">here</a>]. As
always, Dear Reader, we urge you to don sensible attire, alter your mindset
responsibly, and hardly resist when your body begins to move without any
inhibitions. Oi.<br /><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEmeLcbQS1rsZ7zdjHIh0zCn-BMKKG3qflm1PCLdKe3yg1Ajuc8mozK8z9Ki47h2xUphGXQuZQUyiugwhV71NuOE5T_9wJwoavOfYTh8WUygVPyJPZbOtEWQ50NxFD-hFmpmKAyQdBhultCOsW8K2VRYjASJry2A5X98g5SBV0eYKigD8S6NgMFNlQQ/s960/jof%20mill%20hill.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEmeLcbQS1rsZ7zdjHIh0zCn-BMKKG3qflm1PCLdKe3yg1Ajuc8mozK8z9Ki47h2xUphGXQuZQUyiugwhV71NuOE5T_9wJwoavOfYTh8WUygVPyJPZbOtEWQ50NxFD-hFmpmKAyQdBhultCOsW8K2VRYjASJry2A5X98g5SBV0eYKigD8S6NgMFNlQQ/w400-h300/jof%20mill%20hill.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b> Weekday Ave.<br /></b><br /><br /> Scream, a siren<br /> The scream alone<br /> “O” of outrage<br /> & secondhand time<br /><br /> [Chorus:]<br /> Weekday Ave.<br /> Or weekday haven’t you?<br /> Weekday Ave.<br /> Weekday Ave.<br /> Weekday Ave.<br /> Or weekday haven’t you?<br /><br /> Yeah! / Yeah!<br /><br /> Glassy condos<br /> & cute t-shirts<br /> Never require<br /> A thinker’s word<br /><br /> [Chorus]<br /><br /> Da-da da-da! // You must carry me<br /> Da-da da-da! // The world is lost<br /> Da-da da-da! // And if the world is lost<br /> Da-da da-da! // I feel inwardness!<br /><br /> [Da-da da-da! + Chorus]<br /><br /> I feel inwardness […]<br /><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-weight: bold;"> </span><u style="font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-weight: bold;">personnel</u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"> John Paul Carillo: bass guitar, electric guitar, songwriting<br /> Anna Meadors: Vocals, alto sax, bari sax, sound engineering<br /> Chris Olsen: Drums, percussion<br /> Dan Gutstein: Lyrics, vocals<br /><br /> “Weekday Ave.” & <a href="https://joyonfire.bandcamp.com/album/states-of-america"><i>States of
America</i></a> appeared on Procrastination Records (2022). </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-26996399744309770762023-04-20T14:18:00.005-07:002023-04-21T20:34:18.344-07:00YEAH MAN: THE MAD SWING & BOLD PROPHECY OF CLEO BROWN’S “WHEN HOLLYWOOD GOES BLACK AND TAN” <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="337" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9XrzHmb-zJ8" width="464" youtube-src-id="9XrzHmb-zJ8"></iframe></div><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Behold “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan.” Recorded in 1935
by singer-pianist <i>par excellence</i> Cleo Brown, the piece swings in the
most nourishing ways. Our musicology team has been working overtime to present complete
lyrics (below) and, as ever, our critical acumen. Let’s examine the mechanisms
of a bright tune that will propel us into the air, jumping.<br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a proper overview
of the song</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The opening riff circles energetically a few times before
the band enters and the song drives toward the vocals. Brown’s voice veers
between propulsive forcefulness and angelic flourishes. Meanwhile, she confers
a torrential workout upon the keyboard, with her notoriously powerful left hand.
As a listener, Dear Reader, you may feel “swung” — but can you imagine what the
piano must’ve gone through? It experienced dizzying sensations that few
uprights have ever encountered. We love how the call and <span style="font-family: inherit;">response verifies the
bold vision (in 1935) of a Black and tan Hollywood.<br /><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">roots in ellington?<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The royal Duke Ellington may have partly
inspired this song. He first recorded his own composition “Black and Tan Fantasy”
in 1927 and then, a couple of years later, starred in the early talkie <i>Black
and Tan</i>. This short fictional film would introduce the magnificent actress
and dancer Fredi Washington in her big screen debut. Not simply a musical, <i>Black
and Tan</i> turns surprisingly elegiac at its conclusion, with the Ellington Orchestra
playing “Black and Tan Fantasy” in a dimly-lit apartment setting as the
character played by Washington passes away. Added to the National Film Registry
in 2015, <i>Black and Tan</i> offers a remarkable conduit for the Ellington
composition, which has since been inducted into the <span style="font-family: inherit;">Grammy Hall of Fame. <br /><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">a bold vision</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If Ellington’s composition began to foreshadow societal change,
the Brown recording situated this coming transformation in the “promised land”
of Hollywood, among the country’s elite performers. Composed by the brotherly songwriting
duo of Leon René and Otis René, “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan” introduces
a host of burgeoning African American talents. <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2010/09/am-pluto-waterly-yours.html" target="_blank">Louis Armstrong</a>, for instance, had already made his mark as a jazz trumpeter and singer.
Other names may not be quite as familiar: musician Bob Howard, actor Stepin
Fetchit, actress Nina Mae McKinney, and singer Ethel Waters. By comparing these
new Black stars to established white talents such as Fred Astaire and Ina
Cl<span style="font-family: inherit;">aire, the pianist-singer Brown and her bandmates propound a very compelling Black
and tan <i>reality</i>. Notably, “The Mayor of Harlem” may refer to African
American dancer Bill “Bojangles” Robinson.<br /><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">here’s good news and
it’s the newest<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">While a boxing match between champion James Braddock and
contender <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2012/06/most-important-heavyweight-of-all-time.html" target="_blank">Joe Louis</a> may have been “in the air,” the bout itself wouldn’t transpire until
1937, about two years after this song was recorded. In the end, Louis defeated
Braddock, capturing the lineal heavyweight title. In time, Louis would become
the first national African American hero, after he knocked out the German
fighter Max Schmeling on the <span style="font-family: inherit;">eve of World War II. In celebrating the rise of Louis
and other stars, “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan” doesn’t advocate the old dance
moves of “wing-and-buckin’” but insinuates that “Everybody will be truckin’”
instead. Yeah man! <br /><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">the career of miss
brown<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Born in 1909 in Mississippi, Cleo Brown moved as
a young teenager with her family to Chicago in the early 1920s. She learned stride
piano from her brother and, before long, began performing in Chicago speakeasies.
There, she met the likes of King Oliver and Louis Armstrong. Over the next
several years, she toured regionally with different groups and notably, in 1934,
performed at the same club (The Three Deuces) as jazz pianist Art Tatum. In
addition to Tatum, she met a who’s who in jazz circles while performing at The
Three Deuces. In 1935, Brown moved to New York, where she took over Fats Waller’s
radio show, signed a recording deal with Decca, and produced her first recordings.
Over the next 15 years, she toured all over the country before dropping out of show
business to become a nurse and a church musician. In the 1980s, pianist Marian
McPartland rediscovered Cleo Brown living in Denver and brought her to New York
to record a segment for McPartland’s show <i>Piano Jazz</i> that aired on NPR.
A short while later, the NEA awarded Cleo Brown a Jazz Masters Fellowship.
Based upon the NPR broadcast, just about anybody would note the graciousness
and kindliness of Miss Brown. She passed away in 1995.<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNII2YkIoagJchTR8gH-o5oxu--wRowzc_xkiMjoNVh9HwKcPfEbJ_vRHX-WLQAygwZBCREt1mUDvtqPV_Rf04ZunmbnPpWR-4bN2Il9as-phO6sPUWODEZ8HrKBLxTohu9G1PdQTf1v7Fi16xmrR-1KXdYDFkfHQIKyiq3UdJelwjk23QArs_amD3Sw/s1149/cleo%20brown%20photo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="646" data-original-width="1149" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNII2YkIoagJchTR8gH-o5oxu--wRowzc_xkiMjoNVh9HwKcPfEbJ_vRHX-WLQAygwZBCREt1mUDvtqPV_Rf04ZunmbnPpWR-4bN2Il9as-phO6sPUWODEZ8HrKBLxTohu9G1PdQTf1v7Fi16xmrR-1KXdYDFkfHQIKyiq3UdJelwjk23QArs_amD3Sw/w400-h225/cleo%20brown%20photo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">complete lyrics<br /><br /></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cleo Brown, 1935<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Creole babies from Manhattan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will be leaving Harlem if they can<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Hollywood goes black and tan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Louis Armstrong with his trumpet<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will be heading westward with his band<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Hollywood goes black and tan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Harlem crooners with a swing<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will be singing at the studio<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Makes no difference if you can’t sing<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just say, “Heedie-heedie-hidie-ho!”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />When they start to swing that rhythm<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll be heading for that promised land<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />You won’t find them wing-and-buckin’<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Everybody will be truckin’<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s gonna be grand<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Hollywood goes black and tan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />The mayor of Harlem says he’ll be there<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">To give those boys a helpin’ hand<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Hollywood goes black and tan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Old Bob Howard made a promise<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">To latch onto that baby grand<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Hollywood goes black and tan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Stepin Fetchit’s gonna sing and dance<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Like Fred Astaire<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nina May don’t have to sing<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cause she can be petite like Ina Claire<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Waters [is] gonna do a fan dance<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">And shake those feathers off her fan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Here’s good news and it’s the newest:<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Braddock’s going to meet Joe Louis<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s gonna be grand<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Hollywood goes black and tan<br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>discography<br /></b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Personnel: Cleo Brown (vocals, piano); Bobby Sherwood
(guitar); Manny Stein (string bass); Vic Berton (drums); backup vocals likely
by band. Recorded Nov. 20, 1935, in Los Angeles. “When Hollywood Goes Black and
Tan” released as Decca 632 and Brunswick 02123 B-side b/w “When” A-si</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">de. Lyrics
by Otis René and Leon René. [Interestingly enough, both songs on this release
share the same first word, even as they are very different songs. Most of all,
never underestimate the B-side!]<br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">sources of
information<br /></span></b></span></span>—Whitney Balliett, <i>American Singers: Twenty-Seven
Portraits in Song</i>. University Press of Mississippi, Jackson, 2006.<br />—Eugene Chadbourne, “Cleo Brown.” <i>AllMusic Guide to the
Blues</i>. Backbeat Books, San Francisco, 2003.<br />—NEA Jazz Masters <a href="https://www.arts.gov/honors/jazz/cleo-brown" target="_blank">page</a> for Cleo Brown.<br />—NPR <a href="https://www.npr.org/2018/04/13/602133644/cleo-brown-on-piano-jazz" target="_blank">page</a>
for Cleo Brown’s appearance on <i>Piano Jazz</i>.<br />—Brian Rust, <i>Jazz Records 1897-1942: Volume 1</i>. Arlington
House, New Rochelle, NY, 1978.<br />—Mary Unterbrink, <i>Jazz Women at the Keyboard</i>. McFarland,
Jefferson, NC, 1983.<br />—Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_and_Tan_Fantasy" target="_blank">page</a> for “Black
and Tan Fantasy.”<br />—Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_and_Tan_(film)" target="_blank">page</a> for <i>Black
and Tan</i> (film).<br />—Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cleo_Brown" target="_blank">page</a>
for Cleo Brown.<br />—Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leon_Ren%C3%A9" target="_blank">page</a> for Leon René.<br />—Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otis_Ren%C3%A9" target="_blank">page</a> for Otis René.<br /><br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-1742272734704180582023-03-31T15:38:00.011-07:002023-12-29T17:38:49.304-08:00MALAGUEÑA FOREVER!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="293" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bM1J82ryTtg" width="353" youtube-src-id="bM1J82ryTtg"></iframe><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><span>The Cuban composer
plays a version from his 1954 </span><span>album</span><span> </span><i>Lecuona </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><i>Plays </i><i>Lecuona</i><span>. It
would be the (relative) calm before the shakers. </span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">the king of 1947 cuban
pop</span><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>Behold “Malagueña.” Cuban composer Ernesto Lecuona wrote the
piano piece no later than 1931, with reference to the Spanish town Málaga. In
1947, <i>LIFE</i> magazine crowned Lecuona the king of Cuba’s popular music,
and noted that “Malagueña” had been, by then, a hit in the United States for 16
years. (According to <i>LIFE</i>, Tin Pan Alley music publishing houses in New
York had sold 100,000 copies of the composition every year since 1931.)<br /><br />Performances and / or recordings by Marco Rizo, Caterina
Valente, Violetta Villas, Connie Francis, and Stan Kenton — not to mention the
royal figure of Count Basie — would continue to popularize the song among audiences all over the world. But we digress. After all, we here at Blood
And Gutstein tend to specialize in a genre known as “Long Lost.” And the songs
we tend to put forward will rattle your speakers. Therefore, let’s take a look
at three examples of how rock ‘n’ roll transformed this Cuban composition into <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-shakers-era-nearly-forgotten-period.html" target="_blank">a banging shaker</a>.<br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">three rock ‘n’ roll extravaganzas<br /></span><br /></span></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="282" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/VDq4Mr2C30s" width="339" youtube-src-id="VDq4Mr2C30s"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Ali Hassan aka Al Hazan</b>. This song asserts itself immediately and jumps soon thereafter. With
piano just as percussive as the drums, and played to excess in the upper
register (we approve), the arrangement makes plenty of potent arguments,
including:<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> — “Given the hubbub, why don’t we engage in romance?”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> — “Yes, let’s.”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> — “Well, all reet then. Shall we remove our garments?”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> — “We shall.”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not to be outdone, the guitar really wails. Thus, we have
some percussive keys, phat drums (the train </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">is</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> coming), and blistering
guitar. We have people ripping each other’s duds off, no less!<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Session information: Ali Hassan (Al Hazan) producer <span style="font-family: inherit;">piano; </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Sharky Hall (drums); Ray Pohlman (guitar); and Carol Kaye (fender bass). A-side “Malagueña” b/w B-side “Chopsticks.” Philles 103, Los Angeles, 1962. Compositional credit: Ernesto Lecuona.</span> A-side “Malagueña” b/w B-side “Chopsticks.” Philles
103, Los Angeles, 1962. [Notably, the Philles label was founded by none other
than the notorious Phil Spector and one Lester Sill. Also notably, Al Hazan
played piano on the UK number one hit “Nut Rocker” by B. Bumble and the
Stingers.]</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="284" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WQRc7kj0eig" width="342" youtube-src-id="WQRc7kj0eig"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>The Wildtones</b>. Little is known about this group, which may
have cut only two songs under that name. On the one hand, “King Cobra” may be a
bit deceptive, as the classic “Malagueña” riff runs nearly throughout the entire
song (on guitar), and offers the other musicians a sturdy, hypnotic ladder upon
which they can howl into or batter their instruments. On the other hand, “King
Cobra” is probably an apt summary for the mayhem that ensues, especially the
venomous saxophone. Or, “blistering,” if you will, and you will. Call the
drumming “surfy,” call the horn “borderline avant,” call the guitar “twangy”
(or Duane Eddy-esque) and then you’ll have some estimation of this eclectic
cacophony!<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Session information: The Wildtones. Musicians unknown.
A-side “King Cobra” b/w B-side “Mendelssohn Rock.” Tee Gee 105, New York, 1958.
Writing credited to “Ford” and “Newman.” [Notably, Tee Gee records was owned by
George Goldner, a pioneer record producer who recorded, interestingly enough,
the song “Gee” by The Crows, which became a hit on both the R&B and pop
charts.]<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="292" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cN3AnzsX74g" width="351" youtube-src-id="cN3AnzsX74g"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>The Trashmen / Los Trashmen</b>. These Midwest rockers present a
clear-cut surf treatment of the song. It reverberates heavily with ghost waves (we approve) and behaves suspensefully before the lead guitarist slashes into
the proceedings. As a “building” or “climbing” or “burrowing” song, we find the
musicians drifting into and out of numerous effervescent idioms. The
“smoothest” cover of the three rock ‘n’ roll versions, don’t underestimate this
song’s edgy properties and virtuosic musicianship. It propels the surfer, after
all, through the barrel of a breaker!<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Session information: The Trashmen. Likely personnel: Troy
Andreason (guitar), Dal Winslow (guitar), Robert Reed (bass), Steve Wahrer
(drums). The song was recorded in 1963 or early 1964, and would be released in
LP, EP, and 7-inch formats in the U.S. and abroad. For the original LP release,
see </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Surfin’ Bird</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">, Garrett Records, January 1964. Otherwise, we have Los
Trashmen, Gamma 578 A-side </span>“Malagueña Surf”<span style="font-family: inherit;"> b/w B-side “Mi Cuate” (Mexico, 1965). [Speaking of the
band’s flagship song, “Surfin’ Bird,” it rose to No. 4 in the charts in 1963-64,
and would go on to be covered by several bands, including the Ramones and the
Cramps, and appear in film, television, video games, and other extravaganzas.]</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">the upshot<br /></span></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rock musicians have always repurposed songs from other eras and genres. This continued, for sure, with </span>“Malagueña.”<span style="font-family: inherit;"> These bands rocked all of our pronouns: we, us, me, I, and you. Now that you’ve been rocked, Dear Reader, it’s up to you how
to proceed. We always suggest moderation here at Blood And Gutstein. Thus, you
could jump, there, all by yourself, if you need an aerobic workout. You could
surf if your abode abuts (!) saltwater climes. Or you could telephone your
sweetie pie and propose romance. We have found that mere mention of the song
title — “Malagueña” — tends to propose romance. Yes, you can text, ping, and
DM, if you must, and if you must, just propose romance responsibly and (always)
bear the gift of music, wink wink. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sources of
information:<br /></b></span></span></span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Billboard</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=XUUEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA33&dq=%22trashmen%22+%22malaguena%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwim9cPn34b-AhVLlGoFHfohAysQ6AF6BAgPEAI#v=onepage&q=%22trashmen%22%20%22malaguena%22&f=false" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">advertisement</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
(for Surfin’ Bird) January 11, 1964<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Black Cat Netherlands </span><a href="https://tims.blackcat.nl/messages/al_hazan.htm" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">page</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for Al Hazan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Discogs </span><a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/14636686-The-Wildtones-King-Cobra" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
for “King Cobra” by The Wildtones<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Discogs </span><a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/2420879-Lecuona-Lecuona-Plays-Lecuona" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
for </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Lecuona Plays Lecuona</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">, 1954-55<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Discogs </span><a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/1005233-Ali-Hassan-Malaguena-Chop-Sticks" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
for “Malagueña” by Ali Hassan / Al Hazan<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Discogs </span><a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/10931448-The-Trashmen-Malaguena-Surf-Mi-Cuate-My-Woody" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
for “Malagueña Surf” by The Trashmen<br /></span><i style="font-family: inherit;">LIFE</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=MEgEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA154&dq=%22Lecuona%22+%22malaguena%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi14uXe2IT-AhXklWoFHb7lB2U4HhDoAXoECAMQAg#v=onepage&q=%22Lecuona%22%20%22malaguena%22&f=false" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">article</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
on Cuban music Oct. 6, 1947<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wikipedia </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Goldner" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for George
Goldner<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wikipedia </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malague%C3%B1a_(song)" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for “Malagueña”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wikipedia </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surfin%27_Bird_(album)" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Surfin’
Bird</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> (album)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wikipedia </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surfin%27_Bird" style="font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">entry</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> for “Surfin’
Bird” (song)<br /><br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div></div><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-54497378939190353292023-03-20T14:33:00.004-07:002023-03-21T08:46:44.600-07:00AT NIGHT, I AM THE NIGHT: THE GRISLY MASHUP BETWEEN JAZZPUNK & HORROR IN THE MUSIC VIDEO FOR JOY ON FIRE'S "IN SPEAKING LIKE THUNDER"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4mxD8T5pgJY" width="320" youtube-src-id="4mxD8T5pgJY"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Behold the music video for “In Speaking Like Thunder.” It completely
eradicates the distance between Jazzpunk and Horror, leaving us stranded in a world
that crosses rural sectarianism with discordant Middle Ages topographies. With
music by <a href="https://www.joyonfire.com/" target="_blank">Joy on Fire</a>, lyrics and vocals by your humble blogger, and video by
<a href="https://www.daphnebacon.com/" target="_blank">Daphne Bacon</a> and Cody Snyder, “In Speaking Like Thunder” will have you reaching
for a talisman and a baggie of shrooms alike.<br /><br />The main character and his fellow townsfolk attempt to
confront a series of omens in the form of moonlit disturbances, grisly discoveries
in the woods, puzzling iconography, and dizzying isolations. A proliferation of
period weapons — scythe, axe, pitchfork — accompany the period garb of a
transcendent era. Viewers will hardly doubt the extensive lubrication proffered
by meads, wines, and grogs; surely, there must be some greenery in that phat
pipe!<br /><br />After a torch-wielding posse melts away, the main character confronts
a bipedal forest beast who has fostered all the mayhem. The man bows down
before the beast. He embraces the beast. The two even dance together. Then, the
clouds part and the full moon confers some sobriety on what will surely be a gruesome
conclusion. The lines “At night / I am the night” may apply to the powerful
beast, or they may apply broadly to the moon-force, or the presence that speaks
“like thunder.”<br /><br />The music veers between an up-register drone and crunching
narrative; between free jazz outrage and gnawing synthesis. Indeed, all these
sounds congeal at once as the instruments stretch toward the denouement of the
final, mad dance. As for the lyrics, this is the second time I wrote a song in French,
before bringing it over to English. (Also see “<a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2022/01/unknown-city.html" target="_blank">Unknown City</a>.”) My French is
hardly perfect, but in the translation, cometh the jaggedness.<br /><br />The lyrics in both languages follow below. May they inspire
new thoughts and images. May you play the song loud, pour yourself something mildly
intoxicating, and jump around in the usual manner. Oi.<br /><br /><br /><b> In Speaking Like Thunder<br /><br /></b> In speaking<br /> The thunder<br /> In speaking<br /> Like thunder<br /> In speaking<br /> The thunder<br /> In speaking<br /> Like thunder<br /><br /> My word<br /> As crazy as<br /> My word<br /> As crazy as the mouth<br /> My word as crazy as<br /> The mouth of God<br /> My word as crazy as<br /> The Mouth of God<br /><br /> At night<br /> I am the night<br /> At night<br /> I am the night<br /> At night<br /> I am the night<br /> At night<br /> I am the night<br /><br /> At night<br /> In speaking<br /> I am the night<br /> Like thunder<br /> At night<br /> In speaking<br /> I am the night<br /> Like thunder<br /><br /><br /><b> En Parlant Comme le Tonnere<br /><br /></b> En parlant<br /> Le tonnere<br /> En parlant<br /> Comme le tonnere<br /> En parlant<br /> Le tonnere<br /> En parlant<br /> Comme le tonnere<br /><br /> Ma parole<br /> Aussi fou que<br /> Ma parole<br /> Aussi fou que la bouche<br /> Ma parole aussi fou que <br /> La
bouche de dieu<br /> Ma parole aussi fou que<br /> La
bouche de dieu<br /><br /> A nuit<br /> Je suis la nuit<br /> A nuit<br /> Je suis la nuit<br /> A nuit<br /> Je suis la nuit<br /> A nuit<br /> Je suis la nuit<br /><br /> A nuit<br /> En parlant<br /> Je suis la nuit<br /> Comme le tonnere<br /> A nuit<br /> En parlant<br /> Je suis la nuit<br /> Comme le tonnere<br /><br /><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-35627380098074250382023-01-25T07:08:00.009-08:002023-02-04T09:07:50.565-08:00THE MESMERIZING GRIEF OF KAREN DALTON’S “KATIE CRUEL” & HOW THE APPARITIONS OF THE CHORUS RESEMBLED THE SINGER’S OWN DOWNFALL. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWG3WAQGVdgdocgg1jO_cXx-cM-o23tgRtvRY2K53oqSBKbHzjHLBUKYILXHwVD09AOJvPI0Q8cf_Ox1ENU1eLEjwOID7CFvhfeLIkkHXeyJzQde0GXQTYynujKhexoCN9Vzf5TdFbmuXvgq7fjvV17OVkAyI7DdNlQm-JfGiZjQ7sRe-NWLcQneOrg/s1002/kd1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="1002" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWG3WAQGVdgdocgg1jO_cXx-cM-o23tgRtvRY2K53oqSBKbHzjHLBUKYILXHwVD09AOJvPI0Q8cf_Ox1ENU1eLEjwOID7CFvhfeLIkkHXeyJzQde0GXQTYynujKhexoCN9Vzf5TdFbmuXvgq7fjvV17OVkAyI7DdNlQm-JfGiZjQ7sRe-NWLcQneOrg/w400-h400/kd1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Up the alley of “a folk singer unlike anyone else you’ve ever
heard before” we arrive (inevitably) at the complicated, complex figure of
Karen Dalton. Virtually all her singing can pierce you, yet her most
distinctive work, the traditional folk song “Katie Cruel,” will carve deep into
your being. If you’re brave enough to give a damn, the tune will absolutely shatter
your invulnerability. No small part of that reaction will owe to the song’s elusive,
riddling chorus. Ascertaining its meaning may resemble the impossible feat of
trying to catch echoes with your hands, yet may be crucial to comprehending the
entireties of Dalton’s tragic demise.<br /><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><b style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">an all-too-brief
bio</b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>After leaving Oklahoma in the early 1960s, the part-Cherokee, part-Irish Dalton
became a fixture in the Greenwich Village folk scene. Bob Dylan famously
referred to her as his favorite singer. Perhaps the most nourishing thing about
Karen Dalton’s career is that she cut a reluctant pose when it came to “success”
— unwilling or unable to clamber aboard the “ladder of fame.” Handfuls of
tragedies (such as heartbreaking stories involving her two estranged children)
contrast with the irresistible virtuosity of her music, though ultimately, she
drifted into obscurity. Dalton passed away in 1993 near Woodstock, New York. A
heroin addict, she had likely acquired AIDS through sharing needles. Some of
her recordings and live performances from the 1960s and 1970s have been
reissued, underscoring their persistent vitality. Over the last several years,
at least three documentaries (film and audio) have accompanied a resurgence of
interest in her music.<br /><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><b style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">more on “katie
cruel”</b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>The traditional American folk song “Katie Cruel” (sometimes titled
“Katy Cruel”) may date back to the eighteenth century. A 1939 work, <i>Folk
Songs of Old New England</i>, as presented by folklorist Eloise Hubbard
Linscott, situates the tune among the region’s historical “ballads, folk songs,
and ditties.” Linscott further describes “Katie Cruel” as a marching song favored
during the Revolutionary War. She offers notated music alongside an array
of lyrics.<br /><br />Dalton recorded the song at least five or six times, often accompanying
herself on banjo. In some of these versions, she whistles. The most famous
rendition of “Katie Cruel,” however, pairs Dalton’s vocals and banjo with the violin
of Bobby Notkoff. This recording, captured on the 1971 album <i>In My Own Time</i>,
ought to puncture the thickest, most world-weary veneers. Where Dalton may have
whistled on solo renditions, Notkoff instead enters on violin, just bursting with
reverence for the song’s elegiac carpentry. It could be argued that both he and
Dalton understood the song equitably.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">A few critics have approached Dalton’s
performances of the song. One writer, Rick Moody, correctly characterized
“Katie Cruel” as Dalton’s “signature tune,” yet misapprehended Notkoff’s role
in the song. He deems the effort “an intrusive fiddle.” Another writer, Barney Hoskyns, offers a welcome
improvement. In designating Dalton’s recording of “Katie Cruel” as being both
“darkly chilling” and “terrifying[ly] beautiful,” Hoskyns acknowledges the
accompaniment of Notkoff’s “spooky electric violin.” And by “electric” he may suggest
“plugged in,” or reminiscent of high voltage, or both.<br /></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="357" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6HYIoZNOaGE" width="477" youtube-src-id="6HYIoZNOaGE"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>dalton’s lyrics<br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>Here are Dalton’s lyrics for your consideration as you
absorb the song. We suggest you especially meditate on the two iterations of
the chorus.<br /><br /> When I first came to town<br /> They called me the roving jewel<br /> Now they’ve changed their tune<br /> (And) call me Katie Cruel<br /><br /> Through the woods I am going<br /> Through the boggy mire<br /> (And) straightway down the road<br /> Till I come to my heart’s desire<br /><br /> [Chorus]<br /> If I was where I would be<br /> Then I’d be where I am not<br /> Here I am where I must be<br /> Where I would be, I cannot<br /><br /> When I first came to town<br /> They bought me drinks aplenty<br /> Now they’ve changed their tune<br /> (And) hand me the bottles empty<br /><br /> [Chorus]<br /> If I was where I would be<br /> Then I’d be where I am not<br /> Here I am where I must be<br /> Where I would be, I cannot<br /><br />At first appearing in town as an attractive
drifter, namely, “the roving jewel,” the speaker subsequently traverses the
woods and bogs as an outsider. No longer receiving free “drinks aplenty” at the
tavern, the speaker has been callously nicknamed “Katie Cruel.” In an equally damaging
turnabout, she is the recipient of empty bottles, a gutting twist of mockery. “Katie
Cruel” traffics in both estrangement and the tides of isolation. The potent
mystery of the song revolves around whatever led to the “changed tune” of the
townspeople. What had the speaker done, to deserve the withdrawal of their kindliness?
She’s not being stoned to death, as in Shirley Jackson’s famous short story,
“The Lottery,” but she is being shunned to death. <br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0N84WhX5vFlYTEplZTqBsq7BOSp8ezjE6BJ7ehBWofsMkhsJXwUGV3Srmsdx6BO6pt5qMyX89ysyddL30hquj_Y-4K86S-UplAQYQpM0FMyMR-t3YJJXzpsBiBjzJHd-ODgafqJ2SYIFhG9o0T85xLGIa_dRY43L1umzSffabvBJLi4zQ4SVD-eDeDg/s804/kd2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="620" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0N84WhX5vFlYTEplZTqBsq7BOSp8ezjE6BJ7ehBWofsMkhsJXwUGV3Srmsdx6BO6pt5qMyX89ysyddL30hquj_Y-4K86S-UplAQYQpM0FMyMR-t3YJJXzpsBiBjzJHd-ODgafqJ2SYIFhG9o0T85xLGIa_dRY43L1umzSffabvBJLi4zQ4SVD-eDeDg/w309-h400/kd2.jpg" width="309" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>and the chorus?<br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>The oppositional values of the lyrics may correlate with Dalton’s
own clashing presences. She was Dylan’s favorite singer, on the one hand, yet
didn’t succeed as a popular musician. As “the roving jewel,” Dalton arrived in Greenwich
Village and became a fixture during the American folk revival, but years later,
by then largely forgotten by her community, she grappled with the vagaries of
addiction and terminal illness. Her physical appearance, though marred by
missing teeth, was undeniably beautiful. Dalton therefore resembles the character
she sings about, in “Katie Cruel.” That she listed too deeply into the fictional
world of the song and began to resemble (or embrace) its outcome, cannot be
conclusively thrown aside. The lyrics are mournful without specifically
mentioning death, yet the tune obviously conjures the acids of loss through the
devastating grief of the music.<br /><br />Dalton, of course, did not invent “Katie Cruel.” She adapted
the lyrics from the tune’s traditional form. It may be helpful to compare the
1939 anthologized chorus (from New England) with the chorus that Dalton frequently
recorded, as there are minor differences:<br /><br /> Oh, that I was where I would be<br /> Then should I be where I am not<br /> Here I am where I must be<br /> Where I would be, I cannot<br /> —Linscott, 1939<br /><br /> If I was where I would be<br /> Then I’d be where I am not<br /> Here I am where I must be<br /> Where I would be, I cannot<br /> —Dalton, 1971 (among other times)<br /><br />The most important word in both renditions — given its
repetition — might be the indistinct locator, “where.” The speaker,
accordingly, searches for footing. “If I was where I would be” relies heavily
upon the conditional word, “would.” It imagines an impossible alternative journey, or era, and in doing so, confers a gloomy sense of irony on the ensuing line:
“Then I’d be where I am not.” Dalton alleges a certain inescapability when she
sings “Here I am where I must be,” that is, in the world of being dubbed Katie
Cruel and trudging the desolate landscape as an outcast. “Where I would be, I
cannot” trails off, cementing the singer’s demise. Since Dalton “cannot” situate
herself in the place “where [she] would be,” the listener, of a sudden, apprehends
the doom, the blow the singer cannot overcome.<br /><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><b style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">coda</b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>“Katie Cruel” drifted towards Karen Dalton
perhaps from the distant days of the Revolutionary War. She embraced the tune
and made it the “jewel” of her repertoire. She may have even resembled the
“roving jewel” she sang about, enduring multiple tragedies akin to those
revealed in the lyrics. The chorus itself doesn’t merely reinforce these
tragedies, but deals in multiple presences. It may conjure the way Dalton’s
song hovers about us now, preparing each of us for that solitary “going,” the
way we <i>would be</i> and the way we <i>must be</i>, as the late-day sunshine
glances off our fingertips and the love, like a fierce echo, escapes our
grasp.<br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsmA2wyDm-IwNVnI3LfxlP-jHiKuyC8qUqVlQubpjlbMesl4CW8Y3e_-0th-AtTiV7l8IAOeUB4hy7FwSjCiiMskNW9LsNnAyoE0BPa0lw1t1_hz53gE9GE7dDac-XLIEWOEid7x7hU39D70EPptboawIb7KG8vKM0RHYRn3LGurEHowxtcP_GkeRCAw/s599/kd3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="557" data-original-width="599" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsmA2wyDm-IwNVnI3LfxlP-jHiKuyC8qUqVlQubpjlbMesl4CW8Y3e_-0th-AtTiV7l8IAOeUB4hy7FwSjCiiMskNW9LsNnAyoE0BPa0lw1t1_hz53gE9GE7dDac-XLIEWOEid7x7hU39D70EPptboawIb7KG8vKM0RHYRn3LGurEHowxtcP_GkeRCAw/w400-h373/kd3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;">sources of
information:<br /></span></span></b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><br /></span>BBC <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/b07pgvjn" target="_blank">audio documentary</a> <i>Sweet Mother KD</i> (2016).<br /><i>The Guardian</i> <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2021/sep/27/karen-dalton-folk-singer-documentary" target="_blank">article</a>
on the 2021 Karen Dalton documentary film.<br />Barney Hoskyns. <i>Small Town Talk</i>. Da Capo Press, 2016.<br />Eloise Hubbard Linscott<i>. Folk Songs of Old New England</i>.
The MacMillan Co., 1939.<br />“Rick Moody on Karen Dalton.” <i>icon</i>. Amy Scholder,
editor. Feminist Press, 2014.<br /><i>Washington Post</i> <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/music/karen-dalton-in-my-own-time/2021/09/30/a0942d90-205e-11ec-9309-b743b79abc59_story.html" target="_blank">article</a>
on Dalton’s mysterious life (and 2021 documentary).<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_Dalton" target="_blank">page</a> for Karen Dalton.<br /><br />Discographic information for “Katie Cruel.” Karen Dalton, <i>In
My Own Time</i>, fourth track. Traditional lyrics, arranged by Karen Dalton.
Recorded in New York, 1970-1971. Released 1971 on Paramount Records. Dalton:
banjo, vocals; Bobby Notkoff: violin. Dalton
recorded other versions of the song at other times and performed it often
during live appearances.<br /><br />Karen Dalton was also featured in our “<a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/12/the-unassailable-vocalists-of-twentieth.html">Unassailable
Vocalists</a>” post from 2017.<br /><br /><br /></p><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-91024169983909468382022-12-08T11:52:00.006-08:002022-12-12T07:32:27.656-08:00MANIFESTO & SUPERMANIFESTO. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsXoXDNma8H3O8FG0A_LUywSSGfwvQSp4tXTa3lMiVO9MvOv06TDlcTnCyQNpJEUwBIqZigcuSf6bf5s_Fo6AuMCUewAikMUGaZ1p-zuv08VB5bTI0VBKAyJEjeDQrQzGJsgiKA41GoOvD7pe8jZHQ2IRh9ZX4GCC4qii7HIwZO1bvt8I18HAyyf4GA/s1230/faye%203.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1230" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsXoXDNma8H3O8FG0A_LUywSSGfwvQSp4tXTa3lMiVO9MvOv06TDlcTnCyQNpJEUwBIqZigcuSf6bf5s_Fo6AuMCUewAikMUGaZ1p-zuv08VB5bTI0VBKAyJEjeDQrQzGJsgiKA41GoOvD7pe8jZHQ2IRh9ZX4GCC4qii7HIwZO1bvt8I18HAyyf4GA/w400-h266/faye%203.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">This manifesto begins
with love. For my mentor and close friend, Faye Moskowitz, who passed away in February.
A love that can no longer be expressed, directly, to the person whom I love.
Faye changed my life, through hundreds of interactions. Teaching, listening,
sharing, crying, singing, even smoking weed once, yep. What does one do with grief that keeps
ringing outward? Understandably, loss can turn to outrage, given the subtractions
we must endure.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="291" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/axMrhFGj4uo" width="401" youtube-src-id="axMrhFGj4uo"></iframe></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">I listen to “In My
Head” quite often. I’m jealous of the group, Gilla Band (or “Girl Band”), who hail
from Dublin. This song is emblematic of the music I’d like to make: short,
powerful, and aggressive. It’s the group’s first single, from 10 years ago.
When the vocalist, Dara Kiely, screams toward the end—well, that’s how I feel,
about losing Faye. You transport your feelings to a song and make them fit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bD7I4jEK3J6nBDvBNK3FPvNuWa8phQju8RWRlAOlnrmSPfRGHGxVA2UUPtjvzuVPdrBsiVFAQERqFHMkeau9-xpI37sCFrQbH82jen4CMX2mNxTEW9lIfs59tXnYd1vCgCHRCPw6whe6BoHMFQZrDtkXYYDeNuPlBQCdZCgELs_vhqfb9W5cuPKQOg/s400/jof2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="242" data-original-width="400" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bD7I4jEK3J6nBDvBNK3FPvNuWa8phQju8RWRlAOlnrmSPfRGHGxVA2UUPtjvzuVPdrBsiVFAQERqFHMkeau9-xpI37sCFrQbH82jen4CMX2mNxTEW9lIfs59tXnYd1vCgCHRCPw6whe6BoHMFQZrDtkXYYDeNuPlBQCdZCgELs_vhqfb9W5cuPKQOg/w400-h243/jof2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I did something similar on a piece, “Uh Huh,” I recorded
with Joy on Fire, the band I collaborated with to produce <i><a href="https://joyonfire.bandcamp.com/album/states-of-america">States of America</a></i>,
an album which we released in June. In the middle of the tune, when our saxophonist
Anna Meadors (above, left) tears the building down, I do some shouting. But it’s not like
Kiely in Gilla Band. I think he means it a bit more. And it’s something,
frankly, I need to work on.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTQs2b46TmZjurm7Cyvn60wY7mLWpT7ShB2by-I7xYyMkOcfNO0_VV33v1kqlbMrs_ZAWTHIsEBO1OekqT3y_2Lnfj15KH8Lci-DvK2dHb1l2_ZbVhh4idRIHsdZWPAxUskQVEQxxNdGPkr6wJhECZTnyYCW6LGHlZlBOgGQ3lX63mjU-sLRNGuGDPw/s640/coltrane.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="639" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTQs2b46TmZjurm7Cyvn60wY7mLWpT7ShB2by-I7xYyMkOcfNO0_VV33v1kqlbMrs_ZAWTHIsEBO1OekqT3y_2Lnfj15KH8Lci-DvK2dHb1l2_ZbVhh4idRIHsdZWPAxUskQVEQxxNdGPkr6wJhECZTnyYCW6LGHlZlBOgGQ3lX63mjU-sLRNGuGDPw/w400-h400/coltrane.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I listen to John Coltrane’s composition “Equinox” (recorded in
1960) every day. He’s more famous for other compositions but I keep returning
to this blues because of the gravity established by the pianist, McCoy Tyner, and
Coltrane, too, when he enters the song on tenor sax. Of course, Coltrane’s notes
become brighter, the brightness of grief, because he was a cerebral and sweet individual,
I would imagine. Don’t take my word for it, though. Go listen to “In a Sentimental
Way” released in 1963 by Trane and Duke Ellington. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="331" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ThYEeh_aJ4Q" width="400" youtube-src-id="ThYEeh_aJ4Q"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">You could look upon the1963 Ellington & Coltrane album
as a “super-group” effort. I do. Together with my friend, <a href="https://theotheremilycohen.com/">Emily Cohen</a>, I’m assembling a “super-group”
to help tell the story of the folk song “Liza Jane.” (Above: find a conceptual
trailer featuring harmonica player Phil Wiggins.) It’s not public yet, the
super-group, so I can’t reveal the identities of the musicians, but they’re amazing.
We’re going to film them, extensively, in performance, in 2023. The group is
older and younger, men and women, Black and white, folk and blues and rock, banjo
and fiddle and violin and slide guitar and quills . . . . <o:p></o:p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC-kW5PcwpYFnNvFHYxUGtTeq3LCd_4hICRye-jB4mklBjX0aJzIh6wCIa0rMv8X0KrerlRq6JBQjp1OUw6kJbsiQFCsQRLgaBOIhJouBdLId5ibEAUIC7XPUIjmzQT_zhV7VCZB7fofAfuWTh7-K73dIPn2aZdNM8pOHv10eABDsB2GbWb-xowIGuA/s1000/LLJ%20cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="746" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC-kW5PcwpYFnNvFHYxUGtTeq3LCd_4hICRye-jB4mklBjX0aJzIh6wCIa0rMv8X0KrerlRq6JBQjp1OUw6kJbsiQFCsQRLgaBOIhJouBdLId5ibEAUIC7XPUIjmzQT_zhV7VCZB7fofAfuWTh7-K73dIPn2aZdNM8pOHv10eABDsB2GbWb-xowIGuA/w299-h400/LLJ%20cover.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">2023 will also see
the release of <i>POOR GAL: The Cultural History of Little Liza Jane</i>,
forthcoming from University Press of Mississippi. I wrote the book during a
torrid six months, while the pandemic raged. Above, I say “the folk song ‘Liza
Jane’” but it’s a family of songs, an extremely unruly lot at that. This book’s
the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and undoubtedly, flawed. But I mean it,
the writing. Just as much as Kiely means his yelling in Gilla Band. The story
of this family of songs, well, is bigger than me. And that’s part of the
supermanifesto. Writing is not about “me.” Rather, it’s bigger than “me.” </span><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSxCb2kY1FEyq5FLChPrlmqsR93_l4vOQYnU_PywFrDp3nbrvYGCkqUDfDKfOHcn3xz8q09lv9TC3rxu_tNag_OMSwS9lwgW4E8MSavyZtGcQEnug-EVfmr--5EsxMhDSClLSJWSZ9prSXBv33PxG7mCHZIcwFN9O1jVx04eW6jswEXIjiUrxgHVt0w/s1500/metacarp.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1161" data-original-width="1500" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSxCb2kY1FEyq5FLChPrlmqsR93_l4vOQYnU_PywFrDp3nbrvYGCkqUDfDKfOHcn3xz8q09lv9TC3rxu_tNag_OMSwS9lwgW4E8MSavyZtGcQEnug-EVfmr--5EsxMhDSClLSJWSZ9prSXBv33PxG7mCHZIcwFN9O1jVx04eW6jswEXIjiUrxgHVt0w/w400-h310/metacarp.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I did okay as a writer in 2022. A book of poems, <i><a href="https://www.unsolicitedpress.com/store/p355/metacarpalism.html">Metacarpalism</a></i>,
appeared from Unsolicited Press, out yonder in Portland, Ore. The Washington,
D.C. press Primary Writing Books produced my prose-and-photography collection, <i><a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2022/03/the-fox-who-loves-me-new-chapbook.html">The
Fox Who Loves Me</a></i>. Grantmakers, literally, kept me afloat: the Maryland
State Arts Council and the Arts & Humanities Council of Montgomery County
(Md.) I am indebted to the kindness and professionalism of these presses and organizations.<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAOVL0ErkX0qka_yDLY93lDRm5wnM58DeKyHYGU0KJH5tHnHfVozojdlJLrVc48AlxBKVFkTEGLn1EVxkBRxQYeUNkFt7qQzjDeIR_KYhweKQd0TU6Ae1ubb-GeEuNeSZrlURrF86iViN2unX35ryrA4WJ-C95SrS0UXFQHugp-ZCR_qlxdfl1g-g9Q/s360/doug%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="360" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAOVL0ErkX0qka_yDLY93lDRm5wnM58DeKyHYGU0KJH5tHnHfVozojdlJLrVc48AlxBKVFkTEGLn1EVxkBRxQYeUNkFt7qQzjDeIR_KYhweKQd0TU6Ae1ubb-GeEuNeSZrlURrF86iViN2unX35ryrA4WJ-C95SrS0UXFQHugp-ZCR_qlxdfl1g-g9Q/w400-h266/doug%201.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">A few weeks ago, my close friend Doug Lang (above) passed away. Doug
was a poet, and a teacher, who inspired people with his writing, Welsh wit, and
comprehensive knowledge of American culture. We grew especially close after his
childhood football team, Swansea City, climbed into the Premier League for a
few years. A group of us became hooligans upon this development, often getting
tight off stout at 10 am in pubs, and listing out into the sunshine, to crow
about our worldview. Doug enjoyed this “bloke” activity quite a bit, and now,
once more, there’s love that can no longer be expressed, directly, to the
person whom I love.<o:p></o:p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_VfAKAOSU6K4LLA8bCDE1BaEAXNkFZiLmmZD_tnK49KCAWEfx8UgYKd-5NQr4yla5AZ7UihWQlTmBq6DxIg1txBu3Vsfv0zIDtTss_DhhZTERVNfNjoor1r06Gt386iWTV0lyT6htB4EbZCHtJQIlXVltBuv1iTPN4KQHjNEey-fUHNE9wlKES6SiA/s960/swansea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_VfAKAOSU6K4LLA8bCDE1BaEAXNkFZiLmmZD_tnK49KCAWEfx8UgYKd-5NQr4yla5AZ7UihWQlTmBq6DxIg1txBu3Vsfv0zIDtTss_DhhZTERVNfNjoor1r06Gt386iWTV0lyT6htB4EbZCHtJQIlXVltBuv1iTPN4KQHjNEey-fUHNE9wlKES6SiA/w400-h300/swansea.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I will always be Swansea, “O City Said I.”</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="335" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7Y2tMN30Zd0" width="404" youtube-src-id="7Y2tMN30Zd0"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">One of the Swansea City hooligans (Casey) turned me on to Gilla
Band and another (Rod) turned me on to Dry Cleaning, a group from London. I’m a
bit obsessed with “Magic of Meghan” and with the singer, Florence Shaw. She
projects so much tragedy at the microphone, and of course, the lyrics are often
spoken, which is what I tried to do with Joy on Fire. She has amazing timing,
and often delivers scathing satire. The “whoops” (all three of them) are quite nourishing.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeRHGnlUxaXbpT03afXD_mT4a93dEMfUKZ9b9TBO1lN50NBaByr4ECW4DQIddZlXJDOBEunBah5DfnUzVXutHaxyr9J2dhwo_qD_1Y61O9-V_JYWdGzvTGtd-nSd9QWzCHYlnD2G-O3P1Uh_rmlfnqw7KIfv_onrlRLRh6chs4858RA1vWF4iU_9fxQ/s700/faye.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="700" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjeRHGnlUxaXbpT03afXD_mT4a93dEMfUKZ9b9TBO1lN50NBaByr4ECW4DQIddZlXJDOBEunBah5DfnUzVXutHaxyr9J2dhwo_qD_1Y61O9-V_JYWdGzvTGtd-nSd9QWzCHYlnD2G-O3P1Uh_rmlfnqw7KIfv_onrlRLRh6chs4858RA1vWF4iU_9fxQ/w400-h266/faye.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><p class="MsoNormal">I was once at a reading facilitated by the English
department where Faye and I taught. Since students were there, it was a “dry” event,
but I’d bootlegged-in a bitteen of the spirits, and, having extensive knowledge
of the domicile, I snuck through some secret passageways and doorways, where I
would situate myself in a private enclave, where I could partake of a “nip.” Privately,
or so I thought, because once I stepped-through into the ostensible safety of the
enclave, there was Faye, smoking a joint(!) <o:p></o:p></p><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5mn_JMExPo6aFN9Jo9Dc0sxOGQyqpWjPPonqwCbBvR3vHmMHl_CPvIC2ELfHWvKcuGFOYaCP7JaUM0m88rzW-L-4Dyvq6mQXjSOCFCa4UxHl0k5FCHTMsSc9iD3RPS71O8v_o8HR9JXmuNDjB3bbLcfPM1asifvGmBAeoytcjpMmdPyMuvgXDFbb_w/s2048/doug%206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5mn_JMExPo6aFN9Jo9Dc0sxOGQyqpWjPPonqwCbBvR3vHmMHl_CPvIC2ELfHWvKcuGFOYaCP7JaUM0m88rzW-L-4Dyvq6mQXjSOCFCa4UxHl0k5FCHTMsSc9iD3RPS71O8v_o8HR9JXmuNDjB3bbLcfPM1asifvGmBAeoytcjpMmdPyMuvgXDFbb_w/w400-h300/doug%206.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><p class="MsoNormal">At a party once (but not the one depicted above.) Doug with
an “ass pocket of whiskey.” I have to put it like this: an “English aristocratic
sort” had insisted that Doug’s hometown of Swansea had not been bombarded during World War II. Doug retorted that he’d lived through said bombardments as a very
young boy. (Wikipedia, et cetera, confirms Doug’s account.) Anyhow, this “English
aristocratic sort” had attended the event with his trousers rolled very high,
and Doug made sure that the fellow understood the folly of the trouser-rolling,
as we were on the second floor, in a city that wasn’t bracing for a flood. It
wasn’t even raining. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAzyRqHd9uYShAYkb6CI6cPxLLraPi9UFCmtJrlcEa5VQ8usPS7PcN1jsPTrZ_xMpS9KWNhkZoIpD6ChRr-zQPLHTKsH1yVEm_g9xdGbwba3m_tVApCpgNujW3TLiZGxjrAtFfQ2v2TCOiYVDKN-FBLNZ0EIahdT9IkWxiTRZ54MPIzpeZyFEzK-kJkg/s537/fox%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="537" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAzyRqHd9uYShAYkb6CI6cPxLLraPi9UFCmtJrlcEa5VQ8usPS7PcN1jsPTrZ_xMpS9KWNhkZoIpD6ChRr-zQPLHTKsH1yVEm_g9xdGbwba3m_tVApCpgNujW3TLiZGxjrAtFfQ2v2TCOiYVDKN-FBLNZ0EIahdT9IkWxiTRZ54MPIzpeZyFEzK-kJkg/w400-h300/fox%201.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">When your best friend from the animal kingdom emerges from
the mist. The scoundrel. The trickster. The beautiful vixen. She knows she’s a good-looking
fox because I tell her as much every time I jog with her after sunset. <o:p></o:p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="328" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QtFI-uahC9k" width="395" youtube-src-id="QtFI-uahC9k"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">It wouldn’t be a true “Blood And Gutstein” without an old
R&B number that will rattle your windowpanes. Behold: “Big Bo’s Iron Horse”
from 1962. This has been a longish, searching, raking post, one that expressed despair,
and yet, there is much vitality ahead of us, in 2023 and beyond. Let us jump.
Let us flounce. It’s hard to know where the manifesto leaves off, and where the
supermanifesto begins. Where our hands touch, and where we embrace. Most of all,
let us acknowledge the love that’s still around us. Even in sorrow, the love we
feel for those we’ve lost will inform the very next love we develop with a new
soul, and if that soul is you, my friend, then I want you to know how much I love
you, and maybe, in some small way, you can see just where I’m coming from. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">discographic
information for “Big Bo’s Iron Horse”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Big Bo and the Arrows. Willie “Big Bo” Thomas, Jr. (tenor sax).
Other musicians, potentially including organ, bass, drums, guitar, horns: unknown.
Gay-Shel Records, 1962, Dallas, Tex. “Big Bo’s Iron Horse” 701A b/w “Hully Gully”
701B. <o:p></o:p></p><br />DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-9749964586520804662022-09-10T11:41:00.005-07:002022-11-05T21:14:06.319-07:00THE EMBERS BURN HOT AS THEIR 1963 STOMPER “ALEXANDRIA” FUSES AVANT JUMPS WITH BLISTERING R&B. <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/glfPgrXzR6Y" width="320" youtube-src-id="glfPgrXzR6Y"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-size: 13pt; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>what
we know</b></span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>“Alexandria” drives forward immediately: clapping, scratching,
and thumping. The drums circle at about the one-minute mark, at which point,
the saxophone madness begins in earnest. And does not cease. This 1963 “instro”
grinds in all the best ways.<br /><br />“How should I respond?” you might ask. Well, we advise you
to jump. “How should I execute the jump?” you might ask. Squat down low, we
suggest, and propel yourself into the air. Repeat. Vary the frequency and height
as you see fit.<br /><br />If you have a sweetie pie, you can wave hello on the way up,
and on the way down. Do you have two sweetie pies? Well, you can wave to both on
the way up, and both on the way down. Of course, they may have two sweetie pies
themselves. You get the idea. Lots of sweetie pies. Lots of jumping. That’s not
a bad worldview, now, is it?<br /><br />Some may say “jazzy” and others may say “exotica” and still
others may declare “northern soul.” Okay with us. We might add rock, R&B,
and the “undisciplined blowing” of the soloist. (A compliment.) Thank the heavens
for those saxophonists who blow mad jumps.<br /><br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Mboyt1xYbCkW_pGiNgvV4N-6m-hnvUprpGBP5Jn0BQ1-V4j-kBty3K6qJmRTVxxwvGMOUH_5jbqnv9PCkyYy4mQoytUbrg1oR1uPJqBghNyT70xsxpT0y6gOsb4XwI6n2L2rfsBVUM3SunQ92aV7eYu35hlFSicfVootQp4aqq3gDtdTogORBmCboQ/s677/embers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="440" data-original-width="677" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Mboyt1xYbCkW_pGiNgvV4N-6m-hnvUprpGBP5Jn0BQ1-V4j-kBty3K6qJmRTVxxwvGMOUH_5jbqnv9PCkyYy4mQoytUbrg1oR1uPJqBghNyT70xsxpT0y6gOsb4XwI6n2L2rfsBVUM3SunQ92aV7eYu35hlFSicfVootQp4aqq3gDtdTogORBmCboQ/w400-h260/embers.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This may be the five core members of The Embers ca. 1962.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-size: 13pt; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>what
we might know</b></span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-size: 17.3333px; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>A lot of bands called themselves The Embers, but this group likely
hailed from Philadelphia. In addition to their work on Newtime, The (Philadelphia)
Embers recorded on Newtown Records, also in Philly. The two labels were likely
related.<br /><br />As part of their output on Newtown, the group may have
appeared as Ricky Dee and The Embers, a band that cut a few dance-pop sides in
1962. Their song “Work Out” will call to mind the 1962 Sam Cooke single “Twistin’
The Night Away.” Another ditty, “Tunnel of Love,” will recall the 1962 Nathaniel
Mayer hit “Village of Love.”<br /><br />The same group may have also appeared on the Sunset label as
Pete Bennett and The Embers. This group cut two sides in 1961 — “Fever” and “Soft”
— that were arranged by Bobby Martin, a Philadelphia-based producer. In fact, The
Embers, if they are the same group across these three different labels, may have
helped form a somewhat forgotten R&B sound pioneered by Mr. Martin in the
Town of Brotherly Love.<br /><br />As a “house band,” The Embers may have backed Patti LaBelle,
who was associated with Newtime and Newtown. It is also possible that The
Embers recorded on the New York City label, Wynne Records, in 1959. In all,
they may have produced ten to twelve sides.<br /><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><b><span style="font-size: 13pt; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">what we don’t know</span></span></b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><br /></span></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">We know very little, of course. “Alexandria” as
in Egypt? We don’t know.</span></p></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-vfO9UVW_gKjYSurO7mx5yc51DGsk1ZF-9VFwG8ns3z-_zPCiI01wXGEyCEp6yPCWzcdEvtj1C5RCdd3UvnVoxNFQr7D6ivH5CGEalL19mFrir70udpCllmhIhNq2sHOueLyTbLEIwCPBhr15yk30o4oVMz5CzoSoMZtxWPr2D7yERUzv-ztnIKglUA/s722/embers%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="716" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-vfO9UVW_gKjYSurO7mx5yc51DGsk1ZF-9VFwG8ns3z-_zPCiI01wXGEyCEp6yPCWzcdEvtj1C5RCdd3UvnVoxNFQr7D6ivH5CGEalL19mFrir70udpCllmhIhNq2sHOueLyTbLEIwCPBhr15yk30o4oVMz5CzoSoMZtxWPr2D7yERUzv-ztnIKglUA/w317-h320/embers%203.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><b><span style="font-size: 13pt; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">getting into the weeds: discography</span></span></b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span>The Embers featuring Geo. “Terror” Narr. “Burning Up The Airways.”
Newtime 513A. Songwriting credit: A. Levinson, Rick Spain. b/w The Embers
featuring Joe “Mack” Lackey. “Alexandria.” Newtime 513B. Songwriting credit: A. Levinson. Philadelphia,
1963.</p><p class="MsoNormal">[Comments: never underestimate the B-side. Ahem. “Rick Spain”
represents the <i>nom de plume</i> of the songwriter / producer Richie Rome, born
Richard V. Di Cicco. He apparently arranged the Inez & Charlie Foxx top-10 hit
“Mockingbird” in the same year. Of “Burning Up The Airways,” we will note that
it offers a mischievous and prowling score, with bari sax adding some gravity. We
recommend it, too. As for “A. Levinson” — not too shabby, mate.]<br /><br />The core band members may have been: Anthony Corona aka Bobby
Arnell (tenor sax); Paul Longyhore (guitar); Tony Gasperetti (bass); Orlando
Capriotti (organ); Rick Wise (Drums).<br /><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><br /><br /><b style="font-size: 13pt; font-variant-caps: small-caps;">extended
discography</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">Ricky Dee and
The Embers. “Work Out (Part 1)” b/w “Work Out (Part 2.)” Newtown 5001. Philadelphia,
1962.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Ricky Dee and
The Embers “Work Out” b/w “Tunnel of Love.” Newtown 5001. Philadelphia, 1962.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">Pete Bennett
and The Embers. “Fever” b/w “Soft.” Sunset 1002. Philadelphia, 1961. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">The Embers. “Peter
Gunn Cha Cha” b/w “Chinny-Chin Cha Cha.” Wynne W-101. New York, 1959. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-indent: -0.25in;">Gloria Hudson
with The Embers. “Hawaiian Cha Cha” b/w “I’m Glad For Your Sake.” Wynne W-104.
New York, 1959.<br /><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 13pt; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">sources
of information</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/nc720155us">entry</a>
for “Alexandria<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/5001us6">entry</a>
for Ricky Dee and The Embers (primary release)<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/nc030614us">entry</a>
for Ricky Dee and The Embers (second release)<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/nc714320us">entry</a>
for Pete Bennett and The Embers<br />45cat <a href="https://www.45cat.com/record/nc470659us">entry</a>
for The Embers on Wynne<br />Discogs <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/19357042-Gloria-Hudson-With-The-Embers-Hawaiian-Cha-Cha-Im-Glad-For-Your-Sake">entry</a>
for Gloria Hudson and The Embers<br />Billboard <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=1RMEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA16&lpg=PA16&dq=%22newtown%22+%22record+label%22+%22the+embers%22&source=bl&ots=tkYxX8O6xH&sig=ACfU3U0-nwFzIBDuwmGO9B1UAftlalgo0Q&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjPscmOuIj6AhXAEVkFHdiXBTEQ6AF6BAgcEAM#v=onepage&q=%22newtown%22%20%22record%20label%22%20%22the%20embers%22&f=false">May
5, 1962</a><br />Billboard <a href="https://worldradiohistory.com/Archive-All-Music/Billboard/60s/1962/Billboard%201962-06-23.pdf">June
23, 1962</a><br />Billboard <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=ewsEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA49&dq=march+23+1963+billboard&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjM7KmJ6Yr6AhUaADQIHagAAzAQ6wF6BAgDEAE#v=onepage&q&f=false">March
23, 1963</a><br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobby_Martin_(producer)">entry</a> for
Bobby Martin<br />Wikipedia <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richie_Rome">entry</a>
for Richie Rome<br />Various blogs & speculation, etc. <br /><br /><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-42985527466281884522022-07-28T12:14:00.004-07:002022-11-17T11:37:24.038-08:00CONFLICT RESOLUTION: THE BUCK STOPS HERE. <p style="text-align: center;"> <iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uMkMOIqZ6Bs" width="458" youtube-src-id="uMkMOIqZ6Bs"></iframe><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;">Two bucks demonstrating why they have antlers. Not wanting to see either of them get punctured, I applied some time-tested conflict resolution techniques. That is, I flattered them. (In my silly accent.) Told them they were a couple of good looking deer and why battle one another? By the way, I praise all the animals in my orbit. Tell them all they are good looking. This seems to work. They seem to perk up, do the beasts, when they hear a touch of the old flattery. By the end of the clip, these two blokes do appear to be a wee bit bewildered. They are, therefore, bewilder-beasts. Oi!<br /></div><p><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-35566513236190656502022-06-10T14:04:00.005-07:002022-06-13T05:51:42.072-07:00JOY ON FIRE RELEASES AN ALBUM -- STATES OF AMERICA -- THAT WILL THROTTLE YOU (AS IT SHOULD) WITH SOME HARD-CHARGING JAZZPUNK. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-2Sl_zmaiT1pQBVz7W5PUONKhPe58TCnZvHoQNCBMPdTqOtPDpLVGo_gSPGprK5aBOjzFR7rAICMJ11bkcz45WaBXtwg2foMG9JLA4eypu_6XrWPd7Mpio3COS8mGb7FWcRtOVeLLSHjBT86Cx07hd42Y9wR3KNpPwcH9Eb5fDJFm6uTpBqTj5hwLg/s768/jof.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="762" data-original-width="768" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-2Sl_zmaiT1pQBVz7W5PUONKhPe58TCnZvHoQNCBMPdTqOtPDpLVGo_gSPGprK5aBOjzFR7rAICMJ11bkcz45WaBXtwg2foMG9JLA4eypu_6XrWPd7Mpio3COS8mGb7FWcRtOVeLLSHjBT86Cx07hd42Y9wR3KNpPwcH9Eb5fDJFm6uTpBqTj5hwLg/w400-h398/jof.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <br />We don’t say “throttling” anymore, but if we do, we mean
giving you a good, solid “rattling.” These songs have hands. They will reach
out, through the streaming device, and “throttle” you. They will “rattle” you
in your waistcoats & petticoats. Normally, we’d urge you to flee, but we
believe that, after a good, solid throttling & rattling, you will want to
play <i>States of America</i> again.<div><p class="MsoNormal"><br />Click [<a href="https://joyonfire.bandcamp.com/album/states-of-america" target="_blank">here</a>] to purchase <i>States of America</i> at Bandcamp<br /><br />Click [<a href="https://www.joyonfire.com/" target="_blank">here</a>] for the
Joy on fire website / more info <br /><br />Personnel: John Paul Carillo (bass, guitar, songwriting); Anna Meadors (sax, vocals, lyrics on “Dangerous Whimsy”); Dan Gutstein (vocals and lyrics; backup vocals and lyrics on “Dangerous Whimsy”); Chris Olsen (drums).<br /><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>Some recent press</u>:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bob Boilen <a href="https://www.npr.org/2020/11/09/933175637/new-mix-lavender-diamond-a-jay-som-chastity-belt-collaboration-more" target="_blank">noted</a>
the band’s “fiery sound” when debuting “Thunderdome” and its video on NPR’s <i>All
Songs Considered</i>.<br /><br /><i>American Pancake</i> <a href="https://www.americanpancake.com/2022/06/joy-on-fire-and-jagged-jazz-punk.html" target="_blank">cited</a>
the jagged punk eruptions for song and video “Happy Holidays.”<br /><br /><i>Jammerzine</i> <a href="https://jammerzine.com/joy-on-fire-selfies/" target="_blank">described</a> the Joy on
Fire song and video “Selfies” as being “sonically decadent in all the right
spots.”<br /><br />Kendra Beltran <a href="https://zomagazine.com/joy-on-fire-interview/#prettyPhoto" target="_blank">posted</a> a
great interview with the group at <i>ZO Magazine</i>.<br /><br />The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YkyWSNJYCg" target="_blank">video</a>
for “Uh Huh” has been an official selection, or better, at more than a dozen international
film festivals, including Obskuur Ghent Film Festival, where it won.<br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6k1bzd4F9PINL3nCf14XLTavEKpJ_qSp3hb4U_--p4tMqtcr4A-XpKDqP9_AXupCLo80LjW8tXiiHE90j3lK75NsPyW4ML5fGj2IHNTl99UXwjCOGCU9tg81Rd4SdRuSLVcQ2Xl6A1-I_4c1GVwYU9_hfxKbVG3W4UO7RIyJsRuPOzHlMm-VAJt2mnw/s3955/JOF2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2393" data-original-width="3955" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6k1bzd4F9PINL3nCf14XLTavEKpJ_qSp3hb4U_--p4tMqtcr4A-XpKDqP9_AXupCLo80LjW8tXiiHE90j3lK75NsPyW4ML5fGj2IHNTl99UXwjCOGCU9tg81Rd4SdRuSLVcQ2Xl6A1-I_4c1GVwYU9_hfxKbVG3W4UO7RIyJsRuPOzHlMm-VAJt2mnw/w400-h243/JOF2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />Thanks for your support! Oi. </div>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-50851556183942386362022-05-05T13:40:00.002-07:002022-05-05T17:38:56.173-07:00CUB LIFE: THE RED FOX KITS ENGAGE IN NUTTY MAYHEM & WE HAVE THE FOOTAGE. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="358" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AOGl9lQZLsk" width="459" youtube-src-id="AOGl9lQZLsk"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My fondness for foxes knoweth no boundaries. In fact, I have befriended a wild red fox and these are her cubs. Some days, I count seven of them. Some days, eight. It’s like, one day, there’s an extra kit, somehow. They leap, do the kits. They tussle. They careen ahead. On the nuttiness scale, I give them a 10 out of 10. Their nutty mayhem exceeds the norms, by several standard deviations! My friend, the mother fox, must shake her head at all this mayhem. She has more kits than the woman who lived in that funky old shoe. Clearly, the mother fox digs all of these offsprings, because all of them look good. At the end of the clip, you can see that I’ve made a new buddy. Li’l fella. Li’l critter. <i>Oh yeah</i>. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="358" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/b58u-IcNaoY" width="454" youtube-src-id="b58u-IcNaoY"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, I know about the flamingoes. Please don’t tell me that a wild red fox (allegedly) broke into the zoo and ate two dozen flamingoes. (And one duck.) I concede this alleged mal-pheasants (sic). Some of you eat meat. Some of you, like me, are vegetarians. (Or okay, they cook me a fish once in a while, where “they” equals salmon canneries.) Did the squash ask to be harvested? Did the salmon leap willingly into the net? Did the flamingo hanker to see the wild red fox (purportedly) squeezing through some kind of preposterous hole in the fence? We all want to eat. Nobody wants to be eaten. These geese seem to be gradually reaching a state of awareness concerning such matters. As do the kits. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uTClz6JsUfM" width="453" youtube-src-id="uTClz6JsUfM"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The shadows of the little ears in late day sun motes. The pouncing! I mean, with seven (or eight) siblings, that means seven (or eight) pouncings, daily, hourly, momentarily. Lo, the pouncings. The game of tag around the tree. The chases. The tail-bitings. Lo, the tail-bitings. Occasionally, you’ll view the solitary kit, the introspective kit, the sensitive soul, the tortured artist! But not for long. Because they pounceth anew. They tail-biteth anew. Lo, the little ears in late day shadows. I think it is a perfectly defensible position in life to want, to be, one of these kits. I know I want, to be, one of these nutty cubs.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Further Reading: </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more information on the chapbook that chronicles my relationship with the mother of these kits, please see <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2022/03/the-fox-who-loves-me-new-chapbook.html" target="_blank">this here post</a>, and thanks again to Phyllis Rosenzweig at Primary Writing Books, for publishing said chapbook.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Moreover, <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2020/04/the-new-fox-in-my-life-despatch-sic_1.html" target="_blank">this is the post</a> that started it all. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The videos are titled: (1) Red Fox Kits Nuttiness! (2) Fox Kits Organize a Delegation to Meet the Geese. (3) Cub Life -- The Red Fox Kits. Oi. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-38477410983597521422022-04-20T14:47:00.001-07:002022-04-20T14:52:29.823-07:00I DON’T LOVE NOBODY: EARL JOHNSON & HIS DIXIE ENTERTAINERS STRIKE A DEFIANT TONE ON ‘AMOUR’ BUT NOT WITHOUT SWINGING THE PARTY MAAAAADLY.<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"> <iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="364" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TSMrg4cpwOc" width="474" youtube-src-id="TSMrg4cpwOc"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Our deep dive into historical old-time fiddle music continues.
Behold one Earl Johnson, fiddler, and his walloping tune “I Don’t Love Nobody”
from 1927. Our musicology team has been working overtime, and below, Dear
Reader, you can find biographical details, beguiling analyses, full lyrics, and
session details, amidst our usual incitements to drink and dance. We suggest
that you have a few sips of swamp gas (aka moonshine), turn up the volume, and
yes: jump around.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We’re talking some greasy, rowdy, electric, filthy fiddling.
One imagines the strings of Johnson’s instrument fraying after every “hoedown.”
However it goes, it goes madly. Whoever sings the high falsetto novelty stuff in
the chorus — well, that fellow will understand your loneliness, Pilgrim, and he’ll
make you feel A-okay about the lack of love in your life. It’s a standoff,
basically. “I don’t love nobody, nobody loves me.” Might as well hop in concert
to the bedlam. Might as well laugh and cry all at once. “Boop” goes the cap on
the moonshine.<br /><br />Johnson was born into a musical family, in 1886, near Atlanta. Early on
and throughout his career, he played with luminary Georgia musician Fiddlin’
John Carson. [Nota bene: It is possible that Johnson is ‘second fiddle’ on
Carson’s version of “Goodbye Liza Jane,” a tune that is part of the “<a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2017/04/oh-liza-variations-origins-and-americas.html">Liza
Jane</a></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">” family of songs.] A virtuosic performer himself, Johnson became state
fiddle champion (in Georgia) in 1926, a year before he cut this side for OKeh
Records. In all, he recorded more than 50 tunes for a variety of labels, toured
broadly, and was eventually enshrined in the Atlanta Country Music Hall of
Fame.</span><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41q76P-RtxT8Ff9poBGMYFBQT2Y7bHFSIRe_bM8sgVgw5DhBWIotyLbwiMnySKYYdg9ekj3cCBVWCvi5jQ9mrGQIbCbLQYBo8sskef6hbzpX_Crdkp9Rec45BNh2AMP5oYFRVoS6gWQymaaWf_capst-f3kmJUysD7nsvj6-O0RwmEpxMAjjRKvDE3Q/s275/earl%20johnson%20fiddler.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41q76P-RtxT8Ff9poBGMYFBQT2Y7bHFSIRe_bM8sgVgw5DhBWIotyLbwiMnySKYYdg9ekj3cCBVWCvi5jQ9mrGQIbCbLQYBo8sskef6hbzpX_Crdkp9Rec45BNh2AMP5oYFRVoS6gWQymaaWf_capst-f3kmJUysD7nsvj6-O0RwmEpxMAjjRKvDE3Q/w266-h400/earl%20johnson%20fiddler.jpg" width="266" /></a><br />Earl Johnson<br /><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Like many musicians of his era, including Carson and African
American guitar player <a href="https://dangutstein.blogspot.com/2021/05/another-little-drink-wouldnt-do-me-no.html">Peg
Leg Howell</a>, Johnson repurposed songs that had been mainstays of burnt cork
minstrelsy. “I Don’t Love Nobody” was written by minstrel performer Lew Sully
and dates to at least 1896, if not earlier. The lyrics of the original Sully version
are horrendously racist, while, mercifully, the Johnson version is much milder,
almost to the point of being a completely different song: in fact, the ‘speaker’
of Johnson’s song is probably meant to be white and not a white person
pretending to be Black. Nevertheless, the singing style of Johnson and his
bandmates may blend old-time and minstrel traditions. It is important to
acknowledge this type of difficult archaeology, even as we can appreciate Johnson’s
fiddling skills and the upbeat rowdiness of the music.<br /><br />Here, now, we offer instructions on how to proceed. Scroll
up to the top of the page and click “play” on the video. That would be number
one, and after that — well — allow yourself to be swung maaaaadly.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lyrics, session details, and sources of information follow. Enjoy.<br /></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">lyrics: <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I Don’t Love Nobody (1927)<br />Earl Johnson & His Dixie Entertainers<br /><br /><br />Met Miss Martha Johnson down at a colored ball<br />Tried her best to shake me, that wouldn’t work at all<br />She told me her troubles, she asked me for a dime<br />G’wan now honey, you ain’t no gal of mine<br /><br />Chorus:<br />I don’t love nobody, nobody loves me<br />You’re after all my money, you don’t care for me<br />Gonna live single, always be free<br />I don’t love nobody, nobody loves me<br /><br />Went out with [a matron]* down on Peter Street<br />Met some tall li’l lady, she smiled at me so [mean]**<br />She told me she loved me, and marry me to git away<br />G’wan now honey, you ain’t gonna talk with me<br /><br />Chorus<br /><br />Down in Alabama, settled down for life<br />Met a girl named Dinah, I choosed her for my wife<br />See that gal every Sunday, and I asked her to marry away<br />See that gal on Monday, and this is what she said:<br /><br />Chorus<br /><br />Met Miss Martha Johnson down at a colored ball<br />Tried her best to shake me, that wouldn’t work at all<br />She told me her troubles, she asked me for a dime<br />G’wan now honey, you ain’t no gal of mine<br /><br />Chorus<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">Notes:<br />*Second verse, first
line: “matron” is what we hear. Other possibilities include “Mabel” or some
half-slurred version of “promenading”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">**Second
verse, second line: “mean” is what we hear. Another possibility might be a half-slurred
version of “sweet”</span><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL92eSrLvLbLJWp7F0pkdlUpf9_MuVLXbhscar3gH3zsbv1MpRbivCUwd1VaMcAkTnsOxDV9MEny2aOPBdv2VuMg7Kf4FuB1Y_E34pFEJWXEoBNfymRoa0687CQSRwsUQEL7xSoHYgiBwTgTGuizLeqd5ikvsm1TP-NceiLz2K3O2agfqHUveiLDipnA/s2878/earl%20johnson%20OKeh%2045101.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2869" data-original-width="2878" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL92eSrLvLbLJWp7F0pkdlUpf9_MuVLXbhscar3gH3zsbv1MpRbivCUwd1VaMcAkTnsOxDV9MEny2aOPBdv2VuMg7Kf4FuB1Y_E34pFEJWXEoBNfymRoa0687CQSRwsUQEL7xSoHYgiBwTgTGuizLeqd5ikvsm1TP-NceiLz2K3O2agfqHUveiLDipnA/w400-h399/earl%20johnson%20OKeh%2045101.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">session details: <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Earl Johnson & His Dixie Entertainers. Earl Johnson,
fiddle; Byrd Moore, guitar and lead vocal; Emmett Bankston, banjo; Ensemble
chorus; Other musicians, if any, unknown. Recorded March 23, 1927 in Atlanta,
Ga. Released as OKeh 45101. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> <br /></o:p><b><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">sources of information:</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">--Daniel, Wayne W. <i>Pickin’ on Peachtree: A History of
Country Music in Atlanta, Georgia</i>. University of Illinois Press, 1990<br />--Discography of American Historical Recordings <a href="https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000207264/W80659-I_dont_love_nobody">page</a>
for “I Don’t Love Nobody”<br />--Earl Johnson <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/artist/earl-johnson-mn0000126142/biography">biography</a>
at AllMusic Guide<br />--Sully, Lew. “I Don’t Love Nobody.” Howley, Haviland &
Co. (New York: 1896). This burnt cork minstrelsy sheet music publication can be
accessed at its Library of Congress <a href="http://memory.loc.gov/diglib/ihas-natlib/loc.award.rpbaasm.0971/default.html">page</a>;
be forewarned that the content is offensive</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-82525037995823444512022-04-20T14:30:00.001-07:002022-04-20T14:30:37.021-07:00MY BEST MATE FROM THE ANIMAL KINGDOM: A WILD RED FOX PHOTO ESSAY <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sYfEFmrtygnCrC3o3w7ks814462VgI74JruU_NFg9PgWvgRH-UbBV_QETYLdGnasojOgwIEy3XxqQtfrbW4g9KmUfOPNnj0_8RFiYLdpp9kprixLkbPcX9pTIj0WWQ44HuJZqbozx58ip_oCE-U3JpGL5qYCIFM0t-RMf7nvAiPxR5i8KtcUECe1pw/s4032/fox%20april%2013%20a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0sYfEFmrtygnCrC3o3w7ks814462VgI74JruU_NFg9PgWvgRH-UbBV_QETYLdGnasojOgwIEy3XxqQtfrbW4g9KmUfOPNnj0_8RFiYLdpp9kprixLkbPcX9pTIj0WWQ44HuJZqbozx58ip_oCE-U3JpGL5qYCIFM0t-RMf7nvAiPxR5i8KtcUECe1pw/w300-h400/fox%20april%2013%20a.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrov-fuTi8Mc9g3khnX7297aOU1Yb-YiI7ih84vxLYWTHKydLvr6Twty54kHXNxwefkoTHAqErHFV-UdLMudCDmuxF26ptpWGu7nNMr1-omvW0_KFhKOP2W_8ncBXi8JEACot5IF64TIWPiMVzFzH-YMu3iv4IO0ctm11956pO_ILy3LR8805YEA7VQ/s4032/fox%20april%2013%20b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrov-fuTi8Mc9g3khnX7297aOU1Yb-YiI7ih84vxLYWTHKydLvr6Twty54kHXNxwefkoTHAqErHFV-UdLMudCDmuxF26ptpWGu7nNMr1-omvW0_KFhKOP2W_8ncBXi8JEACot5IF64TIWPiMVzFzH-YMu3iv4IO0ctm11956pO_ILy3LR8805YEA7VQ/w300-h400/fox%20april%2013%20b.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2_YchUr9q9ooPdiVVLiniNvWyPRkrUqZ0Gx23nFpX45Hbvrjk15cWjh40HWPPZH0z1rl9j-nwKdaRYQ-BQpk3JuIdaht9IjA15rpTZkCR83lxPRNC1IhyAMUaojxOuIj1N2RWwTSWoQXB93Oi5o4NgqPtv7ikVaj-UocD-Mi26bzmRruhZhxhElrHQ/s4032/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2_YchUr9q9ooPdiVVLiniNvWyPRkrUqZ0Gx23nFpX45Hbvrjk15cWjh40HWPPZH0z1rl9j-nwKdaRYQ-BQpk3JuIdaht9IjA15rpTZkCR83lxPRNC1IhyAMUaojxOuIj1N2RWwTSWoQXB93Oi5o4NgqPtv7ikVaj-UocD-Mi26bzmRruhZhxhElrHQ/w300-h400/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20a.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaunMde2KWekOp1hazkqDKP2xmcEGcyG5vxvvSXIZAjmbcDw9ZJhbirNetO5PhDkp96sLL3OfdJvHuwhwbK1F3oLYMJmRJBq8wj0O4axdDU2wnbAnDp6Gbj8eFPl6X2nPc4qbzFuvn3vo8G0-A0PKI7SJkwW4HezR92FW4PVc_Nh2_A-sRz7sK-l6cw/s4032/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZaunMde2KWekOp1hazkqDKP2xmcEGcyG5vxvvSXIZAjmbcDw9ZJhbirNetO5PhDkp96sLL3OfdJvHuwhwbK1F3oLYMJmRJBq8wj0O4axdDU2wnbAnDp6Gbj8eFPl6X2nPc4qbzFuvn3vo8G0-A0PKI7SJkwW4HezR92FW4PVc_Nh2_A-sRz7sK-l6cw/w300-h400/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20b.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64aDzSzFpnTxn9K33Ay46t6SFmReHMCRCmqj6ou8uAe89BkQAL2ke9d8un8fbHnRfljGloLFvZhA0QafY8bAt5SvkC__KBKpGLycBThbHLlXmCzty4txRAnO5ped0HCKdbsGBRa67KHXrwgTt34fkKY9ge6WU5nNSm5Ko8UH0ls8Hpdjpu0yHUvIJ7A/s4032/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh64aDzSzFpnTxn9K33Ay46t6SFmReHMCRCmqj6ou8uAe89BkQAL2ke9d8un8fbHnRfljGloLFvZhA0QafY8bAt5SvkC__KBKpGLycBThbHLlXmCzty4txRAnO5ped0HCKdbsGBRa67KHXrwgTt34fkKY9ge6WU5nNSm5Ko8UH0ls8Hpdjpu0yHUvIJ7A/w300-h400/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20c.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLfY2RmU4qAshIwRXHKgTVtIgj7jBtswpkP3NWx3j1Hs_yHjHYDf17pgol2P0g6mCVw23iBI6tLo3Ii68fR0jDNgmviBkk_RnszYeeEz0k4tzd6nNzCoz4pf4G2QVgQk3czHdnS9CToxfSibeBEuHtwy8_A03puJwwIWCflUgjPNVukp0u9bTcsHCKA/s4032/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLfY2RmU4qAshIwRXHKgTVtIgj7jBtswpkP3NWx3j1Hs_yHjHYDf17pgol2P0g6mCVw23iBI6tLo3Ii68fR0jDNgmviBkk_RnszYeeEz0k4tzd6nNzCoz4pf4G2QVgQk3czHdnS9CToxfSibeBEuHtwy8_A03puJwwIWCflUgjPNVukp0u9bTcsHCKA/w300-h400/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20d.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JKSpFn4A_YpGpSLrbGN84stYp79X2kjZgx_I6prpKRwzG2V-b1Hup3wUKj2OLo_cd0wTWnj3MrlDN4V_7NectCwM8H95D3sPhWAlwbSG0RImH4qNzyvEDCJzqx6oRjtzko2uCNI2X9WeHYb4M3k51XttnYEZeJmhRiUMN-HPzYPz4M5yteUwXzkBdw/s4032/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JKSpFn4A_YpGpSLrbGN84stYp79X2kjZgx_I6prpKRwzG2V-b1Hup3wUKj2OLo_cd0wTWnj3MrlDN4V_7NectCwM8H95D3sPhWAlwbSG0RImH4qNzyvEDCJzqx6oRjtzko2uCNI2X9WeHYb4M3k51XttnYEZeJmhRiUMN-HPzYPz4M5yteUwXzkBdw/w300-h400/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20e.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3aQoMnAML8g2Yye7YxLlsW7WGMKTSE1gg7n4xOMVQayI8YUmEHXbPi7OGJRHnq3COi3HApU0kihYz9gMEz0fozBU2pPPkgHlo_nd6B8HFDeCoJgteqkCHuuh-zTN08A-Ym-kDqmkqSTfjjpkKFZ_1VOutXqXEoYSh7DjDNvzyd0qlziByJ_oHIIU7A/s4032/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3aQoMnAML8g2Yye7YxLlsW7WGMKTSE1gg7n4xOMVQayI8YUmEHXbPi7OGJRHnq3COi3HApU0kihYz9gMEz0fozBU2pPPkgHlo_nd6B8HFDeCoJgteqkCHuuh-zTN08A-Ym-kDqmkqSTfjjpkKFZ_1VOutXqXEoYSh7DjDNvzyd0qlziByJ_oHIIU7A/w300-h400/Fox%20March%2028%202022%20f.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">By now, many of you know my best mate from the animal
kingdom. These photos were all taken in March and April 2022, about 24 to 30
months after I first met this wild red fox. Many thanks again to Phyllis Rosenzweig
at Primary Writing Books, who published <a href="https://www.dangutstein.com/fox">a book</a> of poetry and photography
about this unlikely friendship. Lo, my fox friend has given birth to three or
four fluffy kits. They bounce around happily in the undergrowth and shrubberies.
My stunning rusty red friend, pictured above, took some time to visit with me,
before returning to motherly duties. A key to the photos follows.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">1. Classic blogger / fox eye contact.<br />2. Drinking water from a puddle.<br />3. Checking on the kits.<br />4. A good looking fox. I melt every time.<br />5. Whoa! What was that?<br />6. Foxy activities.<br />7. The whole fox. What a tail!<br />8. Healthy, alert, jokester, rusty red, fierceness.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-30318037914629635372022-03-20T10:15:00.001-07:002022-03-20T10:22:26.178-07:00THE FOX WHO LOVES ME: NEW CHAPBOOK AVAILABLE. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbuG5ZYiB1LUIfW4xP3nATThZK1OZXNLhe7bKU7m2mQzM_ZrqWx8gO_1DfPmA_iW9wn-u-R1qqVQi83m6XInXvkNrUTESZgr1frYorQ199lSSv7uaNp5NrCq-T_GPxIiTshS-qjerynCqvZWWq_C_BTVg_oyoCVpjVI7HLErVea0GyV8QcaGj_DldNDw=s2806" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2806" data-original-width="2749" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbuG5ZYiB1LUIfW4xP3nATThZK1OZXNLhe7bKU7m2mQzM_ZrqWx8gO_1DfPmA_iW9wn-u-R1qqVQi83m6XInXvkNrUTESZgr1frYorQ199lSSv7uaNp5NrCq-T_GPxIiTshS-qjerynCqvZWWq_C_BTVg_oyoCVpjVI7HLErVea0GyV8QcaGj_DldNDw=w391-h400" width="391" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">You may recall, Dear Reader, I have befriended a
wild red fox, and in the course of this endeavor, I have snapped photographs
and composed some snappy prose pieces. Lo and behold, <i>The Fox Who Loves Me</i>
has appeared as a perfect-bound chapbook. It features said photography and said
prose. Masterfully published by Primary Writing Books, an imprint directed by
the estimable Phyllis Rosenzweig of Washington, D.C., <i>The Fox Who Loves Me</i>
chronicles my many encounters with this vulpine soul, in summer and winter, light
and dark, dry and snow.<br /></span><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDw1gMAvshuh6M2BeRUwZn1NlyTSK5RBFqd-oj9xlJNuT-1jJmkNM-0jw0Qg7y42lPndu_nrZwVb0tsPAjIXJ6nCmgSOOYVhu-sa6VLCEw9qhHdeucaW1SukzttxMqZksJDgdrksHyckmKsmNtEN4zM8bNYg1AxJ8krKz1t9Vja_wiXPFWebjrD4sP9w=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDw1gMAvshuh6M2BeRUwZn1NlyTSK5RBFqd-oj9xlJNuT-1jJmkNM-0jw0Qg7y42lPndu_nrZwVb0tsPAjIXJ6nCmgSOOYVhu-sa6VLCEw9qhHdeucaW1SukzttxMqZksJDgdrksHyckmKsmNtEN4zM8bNYg1AxJ8krKz1t9Vja_wiXPFWebjrD4sP9w=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The fox herself, a rusty-red vibrant young critter,
continues to orbit me. (Or vice versa: I continue to orbit her.) I see her
virtually every day, typically around sunset. In addition to her striking
colors, she also radiates mischief and intelligence. An opportunistic omnivore,
she chows down on rodents and watermelon wedges alike. When I trot, she trots,
we trot; we have jogged together several times. Lo and behold, as springtime
has blossomed-forth, she has started to keep company with a bloke-fox. I
attempt to conquer my heartbreak sensibly: with sessionable stouts and ales.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh74TJmr0zLIFWXdiclVMWV8sKiWDcu8qX3IAmZ7zvccdtstngrGUHkEBYKIMCoXxWuD-BYeTlxZlnh_XlTf4H5Qazb-u_bBCvGh1Y_9RszIlUklS3KaIYwZsqQePQGDxSZnhRVMB-o2Woa9vzeFYLVE2M1sUit9baF9-z1qUWeaaHn69VRXUMQtCf5jQ=s750" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="750" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh74TJmr0zLIFWXdiclVMWV8sKiWDcu8qX3IAmZ7zvccdtstngrGUHkEBYKIMCoXxWuD-BYeTlxZlnh_XlTf4H5Qazb-u_bBCvGh1Y_9RszIlUklS3KaIYwZsqQePQGDxSZnhRVMB-o2Woa9vzeFYLVE2M1sUit9baF9-z1qUWeaaHn69VRXUMQtCf5jQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Let us sing the praises of Phyllis Rosenzweig.
Her press has published authors from two generations of the “D.C. Poetry” crowd.
Collectively, these Primary Writing Books—penned by the likes of Doug Lang, Ken
Jacobs, Lynne Dreyer, Cathy Eisenhower, Chris Mason, Lorraine Graham, and
Phyllis herself—explore the boundaries of poetry, prose, and image. Both a
writer and curator, Phyllis has garnered MVP honors more than once: I’m
recalling, in particular, the pre-pandemic chaos of an Adams Morgan Day street
festival, when she joined me and Rod Smith for outdoor-indoor poetry readings
at Libertine and the Black Squirrel. The three of us made a formidable team.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRdyCkmpk1rtRMs6gcgY9ciWH3qo0l4COU46JBIj-3QumfiF1bcz-zXd-fYHP2WlWYrUaq-ZaPLfictmxevr5mg0s5apdjbqf6Oan1DIVVEKaBdbanp2tREiisli-bTKk0CSLJfekRfMhCS8tJ_84BRoT45AbEaCLAxPGeNRebH68GcFZdHC3clAixYg=s1000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRdyCkmpk1rtRMs6gcgY9ciWH3qo0l4COU46JBIj-3QumfiF1bcz-zXd-fYHP2WlWYrUaq-ZaPLfictmxevr5mg0s5apdjbqf6Oan1DIVVEKaBdbanp2tREiisli-bTKk0CSLJfekRfMhCS8tJ_84BRoT45AbEaCLAxPGeNRebH68GcFZdHC3clAixYg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>The Fox Who Loves Me</i> checks in at 32 pages, with
color photographs. Design by Bob Allen. Author illustration by Emily Cohen. To
order a copy of this limited-edition chapbook, reach out to Phyllis [email: phyllisrosenzweig at comcast dot net] and she will
give you ordering instructions. This would be a perfect gift for fox lovers and poetry lovers alike. <br /><br />Please consider supporting the vital work done by small presses. Without
them, we would <i>never</i> witness the evolution of language and story. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p></div>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-90092897636439883372022-03-03T07:47:00.004-08:002022-03-03T07:47:51.721-08:00NEW BOOK OF POETRY METACARPALISM NOW AVAILABLE. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5NFjuE6XeejNStcGrVYBdVm9e1zz9GpQpQezxCxp6atyjBGPAkwnVEnEyO1IFhfqEvLFc2dDte-E5zwPLg2GtEl-ek9Km9LOTGVPd5HiETmcJg8e7EjCBvfNX9kJY8TqNSGZVLTyW_B2AqeYL4_iHnPakQFfcWcKz1PimCfnqapqQvcpeQ1rJIo5yMQ=s1753" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1357" data-original-width="1753" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5NFjuE6XeejNStcGrVYBdVm9e1zz9GpQpQezxCxp6atyjBGPAkwnVEnEyO1IFhfqEvLFc2dDte-E5zwPLg2GtEl-ek9Km9LOTGVPd5HiETmcJg8e7EjCBvfNX9kJY8TqNSGZVLTyW_B2AqeYL4_iHnPakQFfcWcKz1PimCfnqapqQvcpeQ1rJIo5yMQ=w400-h310" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><p class="" data-pm-slice="1 1 []" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Poetry. Published by Unsolicited Press (February 2022). 98 pages. Design by Kathryn Gerhardt. Edited by Alexandra Lindenmuth. Available online at <a href="https://www.unsolicitedpress.com/store/p355/metacarpalism.html" target="_blank">Unsolicited Press website</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Metacarpalism-Dan-Gutstein/dp/1956692053/" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/metacarpalism-dan-gutstein/1140566192" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, and <a href="https://www.booksamillion.com/product/9781956692051" target="_blank">Books-A-Million</a>. Available in Washington, D.C. at <a href="https://www.bridgestreetbooks.com">Bridge Street Books</a> and <a href="https://www.politics-prose.com" target="_blank">Politics & Prose</a> (Connecticut Avenue).
</span></p><p class="" data-pm-slice="1 1 []" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
In a nutshell:
</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Per the memo recently circulated in triplicate, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Metacarpalism </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">establishes new standards for humor, elegy, and form(lessness). [n.b. Future works that don’t measure up will be returned to the factory.] These very lovely strophes memorialize after-sex ambiguities, Beef Pineapple Robots, (C)harm Cities, Peoples Who Don’t Listen to Music, anybodies (sic) named Danish Kroner, and sonnets, although what is a sonnet, everything is, nothing is, whazzzzapppp!
You will laugh. You will weep. Simultaneously. Or separately. Kind of like a front flip and a backflip all at once. Or separately. Purchasing a copy will support a great small press. Thank you for your time and consideration. Well all right then.
Two sample poems:</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><h1><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><a name="_Toc56427845">I’ve Got That on My Radar</a><o:p></o:p></span></h1><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">—I’ve got that on my radar.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Me, too.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Do other people have it on their radars?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Everyone has this on his or her radar.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <br /></span></o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Remember the days of </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">no</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">
radar?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—What was there if there was </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">no</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> radar?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Carburetors?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Faithfulness?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <br /></span></o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Heh heh heh.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Heh heh heh.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—When my girlfriend moved in, she kept her radar.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—More women are keeping their radars these days.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />—Do you see blips?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Only when I stand up too quickly.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Sometimes when I’m alone, I hear applause.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Maybe you’ve got The Clap.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <br /></span></o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Okay, I’ve got that on my radar.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Do you have it on your sonar?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Should I have it on my sonar?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—The sea ice, after all, is melting. . .</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />—Do you have that on your deep space probe?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—I’m not sure I care for that phrase.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—(…)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—(…)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> <br /></span></o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Does </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">man</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> drum in
the woods?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Do </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">you</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> drum in
the woods?<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—I have no drum. There are no woods.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">—Then you must throw percussion to the wind!<br /><br /></span></p><h1><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><a name="_Toc56427862">The Emporium of Youth</a><o:p></o:p></span></h1><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Seen from another angle as when an area—<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">station, square—contemplated on a Sunday.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The expression may calcify into a demonstration<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">of thistle-thorn dismay. By “imagine your face”<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I mean “shadow,” your expression itself a shadow.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">These colors: sky, stone, graffiti: these colors now.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The emporium of youth versus the emporium<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">of adulthood. If Person A will ail at Point X,<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">then Person B will ail at Point Y. (Loneliness<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">aggrandizes the symmetrical nature of most pain.)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Whereas a big galosh of dirty cloud busts open<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">a caucus of old doves. Brighten the ticking synapses<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">versus what warms the solid-state capacity for violence.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">These colors: stone, wood, tower: these colors now.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The difference between idling (unit of riverbank)<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">and waiting (unit of high-rise). Rust, rusty coloring,<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">what gnaws into our porticos of awareness.<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">By “imagine your face,” I mean the uncorrected<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ritual of love. Or the sliding scale of sunlight,<br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">or the balloting of voices in airshafts and alleys.</span></p><p class="" data-pm-slice="1 1 []" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-e9320794-7fff-b13c-dae7-1acb70c314ba"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></p></div>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-79551291276307222342022-01-02T10:21:00.001-08:002022-01-02T10:38:59.921-08:00UNKNOWN CITY. <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="361" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gryD9Zrrpfs" width="491" youtube-src-id="gryD9Zrrpfs"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hopefully, 2022 will be a transcendent year for Joy on Fire. The
group intends to release its full-length album, <i>States of America</i>, which
features lyrics and vocals throughout. It’ll be the first such album in the band’s
history and I’m proud to be the bloke at the microphone. In the buildup to <i>States</i>,
however, I collaborated with the group on a couple songs that appear on another
album, <i>Unknown Cities</i>. I wrote lyrics for the title song (above) in French,
actually, before situating them in English. While I can’t fully vouch for my
Francophone accuracy, I do think that the overall voyage between French and
English helped the word formation to be more adventurous. The lyrics in both
languages appear below. On the one hand, the song is about a split between two
people, with the singer seeking a rapprochement, and on the other hand, it is
about loss, about writing the names of the lost in an unfamiliar locale. (For
the sake of anonymity perhaps or to be astray within the sorrow?) We are living
in an era of loss, even as the song attempts to be timeless. I can only hope
that the lyrics match the virtuosity of the music, which is beautiful, and operates
in time signatures more moderate than some of our grinding and jumping punk
songs. I hope you enjoy the listen.<br /><br /><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><b><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Unknown City<br /></span></b><span style="color: #222222;"><br />Did you sleep that night?<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">In the morning<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">a wooden bird sang<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">in a language<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">that had forgotten its weapons.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">You know nothing but<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">my name in your voice,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">the gray light of the rain<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">behind the door,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">clouds in the false river,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">the river<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">where your grief met<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">the sound of my footsteps.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;"><br />I write your name<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">in an unknown city,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">write your name<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">in an unknown city.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;"><br />Well yes so what<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">god is a factory.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">At the end of a sentence<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">I put a period.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">That’s the dead hand,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">that’s my madness.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">The despair so beautiful,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">a bouquet of stars<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">on the rooftops.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">Leave the door<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">open.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">Leave the door<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">open.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;"><br />I write your name<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">in an unknown city,<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">write your name<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">in an unknown city.<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;"><br />Your name<br /></span><span style="color: #222222;">your name.<br /><br /><br /></span><b>Ville Inconnu<br /><br /></b>Dormiez-vous cette nuit?<br />Au matin,<br />un oiseau de bois a chanté<br />dans une langue qui a perdu ses
armes.<br />Tu ne sais rien que<br />mon nom dans ta voix,<br />la lumière grise de la pluie<br />derrière la porte,<br />des nuages dans la fleuve faux,<br />la fleuve<br />où ta doleur rencontra<br />le bruit de mes pas.<br /><br />J’ecris ton nom<br />dans une ville inconnu,<br />ecris ton nom<br />dans une ville inconnu.<br /><br />Eh bien oui et alors<br />dieu est une usine.<br />A la fin d’une phrase<br />je mets un point.<br />C’est la main morte,<br />c’est ma folie.<br />Le desespoir si beau,<br />un bouquet d’étoiles<br />sur les toits.<br />Laisser la porte<br />ouverte.<br />Laisser la porte<br />ouverte.<br /><br />J’ecris ton nom<br />dans une ville inconnu,<br />ecris ton nom<br />dans une ville inconnu.<br /><br />Ton nom,<br />ton nom.<br /><br /><br />Personnel: Anna Meadors, John Paul
Carillo, Chris Olsen, Dan Gutstein. Visit the <a href="https://www.joyonfire.com/" target="_blank">Joy on Fire website</a> for more
information.<br /><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 68.45pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><p></p><p></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5371137905089559599.post-24853072366322331192021-11-27T07:51:00.002-08:002021-11-27T07:55:20.419-08:00SHE’S A MOONSHINE GAL AND I LOVE HER STILL: THE JAMES COLE STRING BAND SWINGS “I GOT A GAL” TIL THE WALLS FALL DOWN.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="354" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/x1CogoYuBIk" width="462" youtube-src-id="x1CogoYuBIk"></iframe></div><br /> <br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Whereas some superstars date many ladies, most of the mortal
gal-seeking universe knows that, once you’ve got yourself a gal, you ought to assemble
the ensemble and set everybody to dancing. The James Cole String Band thought
so, ‘round about 1928. Behold the keen roof-raising principles of “I Got A Gal,”
which emphasize the piercing fiddle and capering rhythm.<br /><br />The James Cole String Band was likely an African American group.
Its musicians may have hailed from Indianapolis. Cole, the bandleader and fiddler,
may have recorded additional records in the 1930s, yet there could have been a
different James Cole by that point. Not much can be said with certainty about
the ensemble, except that “I Got A Gal” rattles the windows.<br /><br />Our Musicology Department has been working overtime on the particulars,
and we’re proud to present lyrics, below, followed by discographic information.<br /><br />We love the pun “She’s a moonshine gal and I love her still.”
Lines like that — as well as “I turned out and told turn in” — could represent square
dance banter or, you know, some early century inn-you-end-dough. The gal is
either “mighty thin” or “big and fat” but either way she lives on the hill in
her bathing suit. Of course, and thankfully, silliness prevails. (That, or a touch
of the corn liquor.)<br /><br />Do we think you should play this song on high volume, grab
your sweetie pie, and jump around? Why, yes, we do!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> <br /></o:p>I Got A Gal<br />James Cole String Band<br /><br />[1]<br /><br />I got a gal she’s mighty thin,<br />I turned out and told ‘turn in.’<br />I got a gal she’s mighty cute,<br />I saw her in a bathing suit.<br /><br />[2]<br /><br />I got a gal she lives on the hill,<br />She’s a moonshine gal and I love her still.<br />I got a gal she lives in town,<br />Going to see if I can run her down.<br /><br />[3]<br /><br />I got a gal she wastes her time,<br />I ain’t seen her for a long, long time.<br />I got a gal she’s big and fat,<br />But I can’t tell just where she’s at.<br /> <br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>likely personnel / recording data<br /></b></span></span>James Cole, fiddle; Tommie Bradley, guitar; Eddie Dimmitt,
mandolin; unknown, string bass; unknown, vocal. Vocalion 5226 b/w “<span style="background: white; color: #231f20;">Bill Cheatem.” Recorded on June 22 or
June 25, 1928, in Indianapolis, Indiana.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #231f20;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"><span style="color: #231f20;"><span style="background-color: white; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b>sources
of information</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span>DAHR (discography) <a href="https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000243622/IND650-I_got_a_gal">page</a>
for “I Got A Gal”<br />DAHR (discography) <a href="https://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/mastertalent/detail/113458/James_Cole_String_Band">page</a>
for James Cole String Band<br />Document Records <a href="https://thedocumentrecordsstore.com/product/tommie-bradley-james-cole-groups-1928-1932/">page</a>
for James Cole / Tommie Bradley compilation<br />Allen Lowe. <i>Turn Me Loose White Man</i>. Constant
Sorrow Press, 2020<br />Diane Pecknold. <i>Hidden in the Mix: The African
American Presence in Country Music</i>. Duke University Press, 2013<br /><br /><br /></p>DAN / DANIEL GUTSTEINhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11440571794661801261noreply@blogger.com4