DVD Reviews: Two of the America’s Music Legacy Series, Part 4: Folk, Dixieland Jazz

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet

Part 4: This is just two of a series of six DVDs that have been released to promote a collection of television specials from the 1980s that highlight specific genres of music, with each disc focusing on a one at a time. Note that links to other performances are not present on these compilations.


America’s Music Legacy: Folk
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
120 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

To be honest, along with the rock and roll one of this series, previously reviewed in this blog, the Folk genre is the one I have been looking forward to the most, and it certainly did not disappoint.

If this were recorded in this present time of the singer-songwriter, it would have been a completely different collection, but for the period it was, the scene was leaning more towards traditional folk. There’s no Dylan, Collins, Ochs, Havens, but they present a solid compilation of live performances by some top of their game artists.

Part of the reason for the level of traditional present here is due to the person who is both hosting and performing. Theodore Bikel is co-founder of the Newport Folk Festival, where Dylan would one day infamously go electric, and who I had the honor to see play at Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn, around 1975. As is common in this series, as the host, he tells the story of folk music, and he gets to sing, but more on that later.

Opening the first of the two edited-together shows is ex-Limeliters singer Glenn Yarborough. He has a distinctive high tenor voice with a Melanie-esque vibrato. Yarborough starts with the light British ballad “Molly,” and goes into a rambunctious telling of “Frankie and Johnny” (you know, “Frankie and Johnny were lovers…”; a lot of British folk songs are about the death of a loved one, be it through murder [e.g., “Down By the River”], war [“Bonny Light Horseman”], or heartbreak [“Barbara Allen”], it seems). His version of this well-worn traditional piece has a high jazz percentage mixed in. Being an oral tradition, folk is open for many interpretations. Unfortunately, he pushes it arguable a bit too far when he returns later in the program doing a totally disco-ized “You Are My Reason.” I had no problem with Dylan going electric, but this is just bad for its own sake. Feh.

Buffy St.-Marie is from Saskatchewan, where I am currently living, and along with Joni Mitchell, she is highly regarded here. It’s no wonder, as the woman has many talents. I’d seen her on the Music Scene television show from the late ‘60s, doing an extremely earnest version of her “Universal Soldier.” Time moves on, and here she starts off with “Cripple Creek,” in traditional First Nations style. She sings while playing a large mouth harp string instrument in a wonderfully dexterous way (there is a small b-roll clip in the trailer, below). This is followed up by the modernized traditional “Starwalker,” which is distinctly Buffy St.-Marie, and shows of the range of her amazing voice. She is such a joy to watch on this program.

From profound to the perky as we are presented with the New Main Street Sing… I mean, the New Christy Minstrels. They open with “Charlottetown” (listed on the clamshell as “Liza Jane”) with the cheery chorus, “Charlottetown is burning down / Goodbye, goodbye.” Happy times. While the TNCM have amazing harmonies, they seem a bit soulless and totally whitebread and whitewashed, a folk equivalent of bland gospel, televangelist style. They may have done better with “Oh, Let Me Fly.” Think I’ll stick to “The Good Book Song” parody (youtube.com/watch?v=G_OJsO8xnRQ&feature=related). They come back later and do an upbeat (no surprise there) “Green, Green,” and a medley of six standards, including “I Dream of Jeannie,” “Camptown Races,” and “Oh Susannah.”

Luckily, the show is redeemed once again by Odetta (d. 2008), who I saw do a powerful set at the Calgary Music Festival in 1994. The power of the woman’s tone alone could slay a dragon. Most of her material has a strong gospel feel without a hit of patronizing. As she strums her guitar, incense stuck into the neck burns away. She also shows what a medley can be, combining “House of the Rising Sun,” “Old House,” and a touch of “Goodnight Irene,” all with a mournful quality.

Unfortunately, Hoyt Axton (d. 1999) will probably be remember more for his role in the film Gremlins than for the writing of his music, much of which has become cultural lynchpins, such as “Joy to the World” and “Never Been to Spain” (heck, his mom co-wrote Elvis’s “Heartbreak Hotel”). But it was his lesser known (by much of my crowd, anyway) folk and country material that touch me the most. Here he does two of his own songs, starting with the great “Greenback Dollar” (original covered by the Kingston Trio, but a fine version was released by the Washington Squares). The other is a song about cocaine (surprised this one made it passed the censor in the early ‘80s) called “Della and the Dealer.” His rough-hewn voice is perfect for this material.

Introduced by Buffy St.-Marie, host Bikel takes the stage. He has a distinctive European patter to his voice that adds a flavor to his sound. He once did a great turn with Judy Collins dueting “Greenland Fisheries”: youtube.com/watch?v=s7ZxnhZ0Fig. Here, he starts of with a stirring and zippy version of Phil Och’s “There But For Fortune.” Sadly, he follows this up with Jim Croce’s lame “Time in a Bottle” (as Kenne Highland once wrote in a song: “Jim Croce’s records never sold / But when he died they all turned gold”). My guess is Bikel was trying to show old school and (then) new, binding them together.

Speaking of really old school, the Blue Fame String Band presents some Appalachian style traditional sounds with “Aunt Caroline Dyer Blues,” using banjo, fiddle, two acoustic guitars, and an electric bass. This is the type of stuff Alan and John Lomax brought into the popular culture mindset, with images of fog on the mountainside, and moonshine, perhaps.

The first part ends with everyone coming back to the stage and singing Woody Guthrie’s (does any really need the last name?) “This Land is Your Land,” which Bikel refers to as “the unofficial national anthem of folk music.”

While Glenn Yarborough was once a member of the Limeliters, who hail from San Francisco, he is not included in the trio as the group starts of the second part. There are two original members, and a new third that picks up the high tenor gap Glenn left behind. Their first is a rousing version of a rousing song, “There’s A Meeting Here Tonight,” followed by Woody’s “Traveling Wayfarin’ Stranger” and the Weavers’ “Lonesome Traveler.” The trio have really close harmonies, with which they play with the melodies and the pacing in very entertaining ways.

Described as “a man, his guitar, and his talent,” Josh White Jr. proves he is quite the talent without familial associations (and yet he seems to be forever in his father’s shadow). Josh is backed by just his fingersnapping in the first tune, the spiritual a capella “I’ve Been Down” (“I’ve been down so long / getting up never crossed by mind”). With his guitar, he performs the playfully upbeat style blues of “Where Were You Baby When My Heart Went Out.”

While he may be blind, Doc Watson is a top finger-picker (no, I don’t have any idea what one has to do with the other, any more than he is from North Carolina). Also unrelated, in Watson’s intro, Bikel manages to give an indirect slam to electric music, i.e., Dylan and rock). But I digress… Getting back to Doc, he is an old-tyme country player, Woody-style, starting off with a lively cover of the moving “Fix Me a Pallet,” followed by the classic I-IV-V rhythm of “I Got the Blues.”

Bringing us back to the Appalachian Olde-English-based subgenre is music historian (and musician) Jean Ritchie, of Kentucky. With dulcimer in hand, she wails “March Down to Old Tennessee.” I particularly liked the very short background or description she gives explaining how it was illegal for women to dress like men, as in the next song, “They Call Me Jackero.” Of course, there are lots of songs of women following men into battle, such as “500 Miles” and the aforementioned “Bonny Light Horseman.” In this case, the protagonist fights beside her love and saves his life.

Dave von Ronk (d. 2002) is such a dynamic performer, it’s no wonder he mentored other great musicians such as Christine Lavin. As a leader of the urban folk movement (Dylan, Ochs, etc.), this Brooklynite belts some jazz blues with “Sunday Street,” for which he refers to himself as a “city-billy.” His second piece, “Garden State,” has a Brel-ish melody, while he shouts out the lyrics, consisting only of the names of towns in New Jersey (in rhyme, yet).

A jug band, led by Mary McCaslin and Jim Ringer, sails through the country bluegrass (I did say jug band, y’know) “Sunday Street.” Jim does all the singing and she plays, but for some reason, she still has a mic. Just an observation; go figure. They are quite joyous.

With a John Hartford (he would have been good to have here) banjo-pickin’ singing-talking style, John McEuen (of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band) plays “Old Man From Missouri,” only he mixes it up a bit with traditional stirred with a more modernized tone. Then he starts playing real fast. Punk banjo anyone?

To finish off as the second set began, the Limeliters come back for “That’s Just the Way It Goes,” giving it a modern klezmer twist.

There was a lot to enjoy in this collection, and it’s easy to recommend to any folker. And yet, there are so many others I would have loved to have seen, like Joe & Eddie (in clips, as Joe died in an accident in ’66; youtube.com/watch?v=WBo-SSVNw-g&feature=related), The Allen-Ward Trio (youtube.com/watch?v=c2gAuSGyDmQ), and Dana & Brown, among so many others, but that’s just me dreaming and being unrealistic about the time allotted, I guess…


* * *


America’s Music Legacy: Dixieland Jazz
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
95 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

What is the difference between jazz and Dixieland jazz? The latter is a mix of Spanish, French, Caribbean and African influences. It also relies heavily on brass and woodwinds, and is generally an upbeat sound. Once a perennial Mardi Gras parade member, host and trumpeter Al Hirt (d. 1999) describes it as “happy music,” though it does share some of the blues.

The sound is not as common now as when I was growing up, as jazz has become more codified, even in its freedom of expression. Just the white hair on so many of the musicians on this two-edited-into-one musical extravaganza shows that it is a sound that may have passed its time, like the related big band swing. I’m not saying it’s gone, just that it’s not as prevalent as it used to be. But again, as Hirt states proudly, referring to this music, “The south will rise again.”

The musicians used throughout this program is called the New Orleans Jazz All-Star Band, made up of Hirt’s and Woody Herman’s back-up, including at times such jazz luminaries as Bobby Havens, Eddie Miller, Ray Leatherwood, Gene Estes, Michael “Peanuts” Hucko, Ray Sherman, Fred Crane, Edward Huntington, and Colin Bailey.

Woody Herman and his band open up the show with a stirring “Jazz Me Blues” and “Basin Street Blues,” upbeat numbers with a rousing clarinet. As with most of numbers here, it is common for the lead musician to give way to the others in the band for a chance to shine. Dixieland is very magnanimous that way (and jazz tends to be in general; you really need to know what you’re doing and be able to improvise to play it well).

Much of the music and dialog revolve around trumpeter Louis Armstrong (d. 1971). Also known as Satchmo, or just Pops, he was a New Orleans native who brought the sound to the world in the 1920s. In later years, though, he moved to Queens, NY, and is buried there. Hirt reads off a short but informative bio of Armstrong, and shows some photos and clips.

It only makes sense that one of his musical offspring, instrumentalist Clora Bryant, a killer trumpeter in her own right. She plays “When It’s Sleepytime Down South,” a ballad she dedicates to Louis. Following is an interview clip of her describing the time she met Satchmo, who gave her a trumpet that she still owns.

Whipping up a fast-as-lightening banjo is Scotty Plummer (d. 1992 in a motorbike accident), who plays hardcore punk-speed Dixieland. The two instrumental tunes he strums, the standard “Waiting for the Robert E. Lee” and “The World is Waiting for the Sunrise,” almost sound like bumblebees surrounding the melody as his hand moves up and down so fast they’re a blur. He had quite the incredible technique.

Jazz-angel (sorry) Della Reese proves she’s more than an actress in a (gratefully gone) sappy television program, as she jazzes up and bops Irving Berlin’s “Blue Skies.” As fine as she is here, I enjoyed her second number, “The Man with a Horn,” a bluesy ballad accompanied by Hirt, much more. With “Horn,” she shows off more of her range and musical emotion.

Hirt finally does a lead with the chestnut “Bill Bailey,” joined by his quartet (stand-up bass, drum, piano), each of whom get a solo. After a brief film clip of Hirt describing his life and career, he actually sings on “Bourbon Street Paradise.” His voice is gravelly and raw, and sounds great to this style.

Playing a jellyroll associated with the likes of Scott Joplin and Fats Waller is Johnny Guarnieri (d. 1985), who is sort of the Carol Kaye (bassist of the famed Wrecking Crew) of the big band era, playing on thousands of recordings. Here he plays terrific versions of Joplin’s classic “Maple Leaf Rag” and Waller’s “Ain’t Misbehavin’.”

Where there is Dixieland, can “When the Saints Go Marching In” be far behind? Hirt and Woody Herman fulfill the necessity with a rousing rendition.

Bob Crosby (yes, the youngest brother of Bing; d. 1993) joins his old swing band, the Bobcats, for their big hits, “March of the Bobcats” and “Big Noise From Winnetka,” the latter which started as an improv way back when, before it was put to 78 rpm.

The married couple of Jim and Marsha Hession, aka The Hessions, follow a clip of Eubie Blake (who, like George Burns, died shortly after is 100th birthday). JIm plays a killer piano, and Marsha sings in a high, operatic voice. It’s quite lovely and she is able to reach four octaves, but at the same time I found it kind of disconcerting and forced (as operatic voices tend to be). They open with a lively version of Waller’s “This Joint is Jumpin’.”

Hirt is back with his band doing a jazz rendition of “Someday You’ll Be Sorry.” It’s a bit meandering in the way jazz can be, and it still swings. Again, everyone gets space to do their own thing.

At long last, Scatman Crothers (d. 1986) gets his chance. The man is more than a musician, he is a performer, and I’ve been a fan for a number of years (as I’ve stated in a previous review for this series). He plays with the audience for his comedic “The Gal Looks Good.” The song is more Harlem blues, and he shows off his amazing talent as he strums his guitar and, of course, scats.

Not to be confused with jazz musician Ted Buckner, jazz musician Teddy Buckner continues the Harlem-esque sound with the ballad “Struttin’ With some Barbeque,” which naturally leads into the swinging “Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone.” These songs would sound as comfortable in New Orleans as it would at the Cotton Club.

There is a full song clip, and rightfully so, of Fats Waller (d. 1943) performing his stride piano to his own “Honeysuckle Rose,” while a bevy of beauties lounge around him, Busby Berkeley bathing beauties style. Waller tended to lean towards comic, but he was highly talented as both a performer and writer. On the younger side relatively to the rest of this collection, and with some of the biggest hair (it was the ‘80s, y’know), is pianist Judy Carmichael. She plays a wild stride piano in a post-ragtime style, picking up on an instrumental version of Waller’s “Honeysuckle Rose” as the clip of him playing the same song ends. A joy to watch, indeed.

The New Orleans All-Star Jazz Band comes out and does the biggest jazz standard of the Roaring ‘20s, “Tiger Rag” (you would probably know it if you heard it). The way the song is played here, which is actually quite raucous, is based on the trombone as the central instrument, with Bobby Havens doing physical playing that is reminiscent more of Hendrix than Higginbotham. Quite smile-worthy

The last original artist up is Irma Thomas, who Hirt describes as “The Queen of New Orleans Soul.” She starts off singing her first recording from 1960, the humorous blues “(You Can Have My Husband But) Don’t Mess with My Man.” Her voice is deep, throaty, and honeyed (but not flinty). Hirt joins her in the second song, “Do You Know What it Means,” a love song to New Orleans, all the more poignant now, nearly 30 years later after Katrina, since there are film clips shown of the city shown as they sing that no longer exist.

For the finale, Hirt describes the how and why music at funerals in New Orleans is infamously played with a joyous tone. For the end, or “death” of the program, the whole band comes out again, and they perform “South Rampart Street Parade.”

Of all the collection of the American’s Music Legacy, this is by far the most spirited and joyous, and also with the largest number of people no longer with us. Am I seeing a correlation? No, but I am enjoying it while I can.

DVD Review: Bob Lind - Perspective

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

Bob Lind Perspective
Produced by Paul Surratt, 2010
93 minutes, USD $20.00
Boblind.com

If you don’t mind the paraphrasing, the world is just a document’ry / about Lind’s life and times…

As did most of my generation, I grew up listening to Bob Lind’s “Elusive Butterfly.” When it came on the radio I enjoyed it, but never searched any further. Then in the late ‘70s, John Otway barreled through a cover of Lind’s “Cheryl’s Going Home,” one of Lind’s multi-covered tunes, though I hadn’t heard it before. Great song, I thought, and not only because of Otway’s own wonderful spin. Hmmm, there’s more to this Lind guy than “Butterfly,” I was coming to realize.

Luckily, in those heady ‘70s record collecting days of scouring the stores, I came across Lind’s Don’t Be Concerned LP (arranged by Jack Nietzsche), which contained both “Butterfly” and “Cheryl.” But I learned something else: there was not a bad cut on the entire album. Seriously, every song was a wonder, from “Mr. Zero” to “Unlock the Door,” “Truly Julie’s Blues,” “Dale Ann,” and right to “I Can’t Walk Roads of Anger.” Not a bad cut.

I found one other album, The Elusive Bob Lind (recorded before Concerned, but released after), which was also a treasure, and that’s been it. There were a couple of other albums, released in ’66 and ’71, along with some “best ofs,” but I never saw them. Considering how great his music was, and since there was so little out there, I just figured he either retired or died. Remember, there was no Internet back then, so it was not always easy to check.

Then not too many years ago, I found out through YouTube that he was indeed still kicking and performing, and I wrote him a fan email, which he answered. Through Wikipedia, more recently I found out that: “Lind retired from the music industry in 1969 to pursue other interests. In more recent years he has resided in Florida and works as a writer. He is the author of five novels, and has written for such supermarket tabloids as the Weekly World News and the Sun. Lind returned to music in 2004, when he began performing again.”

A few years after that first email (i.e., last month), I heard that he has just released a new DVD of a performance from a 2006 tour. Again, I wrote to him, and now I have had the chance to see it, and have learned so much more about the music, and especially about the man.

The crux of the DVD is a live concert, taped in front of a small, invited audience at the intimate Blue Palm Studios in North Hollywood. Lind, with the help of guitarist Jamie Hoover (Spongetones, Smithereens), has assembled a fine assortment of musicians to back him: Dave Carpenter on both stand-up and electric bass, indie folk alt rocker Matt Cook on electric keyboards, and rock soul pop drummer Kevin Jarvis. Despite the age differences among the ensemble, they all work together well.

Between the songs is a compilation of interviews from various sources, such as Art Fein’s Poker Party, hosted by music historians/fans, and an on-air interview on The Many Moods of Ben Vaughn, who is also a musician. Thrown into the mix occasionally of the Poker Party footage, is DVD producer Paul Surratt (who was in the Shilohs with Graham Parsons back in the early ‘60s), and Lind’s manager, Jill Guerra. The concert and the interviews are all taped during the 2006 tour.

It’s nice how the interview segment topics flow into the particular song he about to sing, sometimes in imaginative ways. Also, it was smart to put the interviews at the end of each track rather than at the beginning, so if you want to just listen to the music after a couple of viewings, you can skip right to that.

Bob Lind’s genre has changed a bit, hardly drastically though. Used to be he was a singer-songwriter (“I’m not a folk singer; I’m not a rocker”), at least what I heard of him on vinyl, never having seen him live, but on the DVD he has grown, and the numbers with the band have more of a jazzy feel, such as the Gershwin-esque “I Like Your Company Tonight”; however, he definitely has his idiosyncratic style intact. I imagine him as an ice skater: his vocal glide over certain phrases of songs, and then does a maneuver, usually a staccato-ish pacing over minor chords, switching seamlessly back and forth. Quite the joy to just sit back and listen.

When he plays with the band, he switches back and forth from guitar to piano, but his solo material, which is closer in form to his earlier work, is strictly acoustic guitar. The Dylan (and I would add Phil Ochs) influence of being lyrical is pretty obvious, but we learn that Lind also has a strong passion for early doo-wop (even though it’s not really reflected in his music), having grown up listening to it back in Denver; he even saw a few shows as a youngster, including Chuck Berry.

The interview segments show off some aspects of Lind’s personality: he is brutally honest (that’s why so much of his material is so poignant, in my opinion), and he is definitely a hardass. Perhaps it was his years of drug and alcohol abuse, maybe being trampled over by the music industry. Whatever, he is a force; though he admits he’s finding it a bit easier these days to give in and compromise in some aspects, but not about his own music.

Some of the other topics include working with Jack Nietzsche (some of Lind’s best earlier material was with him, in my opinion), how he was living on the residuals of people having covered his music after he quit because he was tired of the business of the music business, until he started writing novels and fictitious bits for tabloid journals like the World Weekly News (he even had his hand in the infamous Bat Boy series, I’m happy to report), and how he’d rather be both feeling what he feels, and getting the audience to feel it too (“like when I listen to Richie Havens,” he states).

The performed songs here range from old to recent. Lind clearly states that while he does not like the oldies circuit (“I don’t want to dish up memories; I’m still moving”), he doesn’t mind doing some of his classics along with the newer material. And as he says and clearly proves, he does his songs differently now than then.

There is a lot of interesting material here, such as “Two Women” and “Looking For You,” two songs about choices, both good and bad, and “China,” which has a feel like his earlier work. Most of the tunes are, as I stated above, done with a slight jazz feel, like the sometimes humorous “How to Get Depressed,” and “Spilling Over.”

This DIYer is a really good way to get to know Bob Lind the artist from various aspects of his life and music. I’d love to see even more of his concerts released, and I look forward to some new songs.

Songlist
Roll the Windows Down (with band)
Cheryl's Going Home (with band)
Spilling Over (with band)
How to Get Depressed (with band)
I Like Your Company Tonight (with band)
Love Came Riding (solo acoustic)
Looking For You (solo acoustic)
Two Women (with band)
China (with band)
Wearing You (solo acoustic)
Perspective (solo acoustic)
Elusive Butterfly (with band)
Someone to Adore (solo acoustic)

Postcript on 11/22/10: I have heard from Bob Lind about this review, and this is what he had to say (reprinted with his permission).
Wow Robert. So great to read something on me from someone who does his homework and gets his facts straight. Plus you bring such passion to your work. I appreciate it. All the best, Bob.



From the DVD:


Bonus Video: My favorite early Lind song


Bonus Bonus Video:

Book Review: "Cold Pizza for Breakfast," by Christine Lavin

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen
Images from the Internet

Cold Pizza for Breakfast: A Mem-wah??
By Christine Lavin
Tell Me Press (New Haven, CT), 2010
480 pages; USD $21.95 / CAN $27.95
ISBN: 978-0-9816453-6-0
www.tellmepress.com

One evening in the early 1990s, I was walking up Seventh Avenue in the ‘50s, right in the heart of the theater district. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone about to enter a taxi. My eyes grew wide and my heart started beating. I screamed out, “I love you, Ellie Greenwich!” She stopped half-way in and out of the cab, smiled at me, finished getting in, and was off into the night.

That’s similar to the way I feel about Christine Lavin. No, I’ve never met her, though I did see her perform once at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival in upstate New York, but what I am attracted to is her work. Her friends call her Chris, but until the day I do meet her and she say’s it’s okay, I’ll call her Christine.

Christine Lavin is like the great Den Mother every kid wishes they had, and for which every singer-songwriter hopes as a mentor. This is the autobiographical story covering the last 25 years, of how she rose from a struggling East Coast folkie to achieve the level where she is beloved by so many in the field. A true singer-songwriter’s singer-songwriter.

My first memory of her, as I recall, was a song on a compilation, which contains her contribution, “Mysterious Woman.” Using a seductive tone, she playfully posits a desire to be perceived as “mysterious,” by having everyone wonder what she’s thinking about: “Existentialism? Nihilism? Wrong…I am thinking about defrosting my refrigerator.” This playful intelligence runs through so many of her songs, covering politics (with a great, strong left leaning), science (including microbiology and astronomy, I kid you not), as well as the softer (“Jack and Wanda”), frustrating (“Attainable Love”), amusing (“Good Thing He Can’t Read My Mind”), and devastating (“The Kind of Love You Never Recover From”) side of romance.

Why do I bring up all this before even discussing the book? Well, Christine tends to write her life into song, constantly updating, and this book is a song in its own right. There is often verbiage in a Lavin concert (check out her superb live DVD, Girl, Uninterrupted), and she writes as she talks, from the heart, with a little bit of candor, a helping of humor, and even some schmaltz.

There are two expressions that are common with Christine: when agitation and confusion comes from without, it’s “Wah?” (hence the subtitle of the book), and when the angst and uncertainty comes from within, it’s “What was I thinking,” which is title of, not coincidentally, one of her better known songs. The title of this book, of course, is also a song title (though her “I Don’t Make This Stuff Up, I Just Make it Rhyme” would have worked as well).

This autobiography, her first, comes after 20 solo releases, 9 compilation collections, and a few books, such as a cookbook and one geared towards children about her song “Amoeba Hop” (thought I was kidding about the whole biology thing, hunh?). But it is more than a standard autobio. Yes, she tells her life story of growing up near West Point and hanging out with the New York Jets (including Joe Namath) as a child, working as a waitress in a folk club in Saratoga, NY, moving to New York City, and getting a boost by being taught by the legendary Dave van Ronk (who also gave Bobby Zimmerman lessons on his way to Dylan-hood).

Christine’s songs are stories based in fact, told poetically and yet completely assessable, and that is how she writes this book. It is not only her life story, covering her music, career, and obsessions (such as knitting and Dame Edna, which she goes into great detail), but on some level it’s also a how-to for the folk music business. Always the abovementioned den mother, Christine doles out bon mot advice throughout the book (e.g., never promote an act you have to apologize for), always giving credit to whomever gave that advice to her.

There are moments in the book that tear at the reader, such as discussing the fallout of 9/11, including how it may have contributed to the death of van Ronk, and her describing in grim (and yet amusing) detail about a few times when she didn’t quite please the audience.

One can hardly call this autobiography a dishy “tell-all,” if you’re into salacious readings, as she avoids detailing her love life, and in most cases when she does discuss someone who has had a negative effect on her life (such as a promoter), she usually leaves the person unnamed; although she gives quite a nice dig at ex-punkers/New Wavers, the Washington Squares, which I found particularly amusing because I’ve hung out with two of them, have been in the third’s apartment, and am a fan of their output. I was holding my sides laughing through those passages.

But in her modestly, she also doesn’t go into great detail about how admired she is by others. For example, she excludes the story of how a bunch of folkers got together and secretly recorded a 2-part tribute album of her material called Big League Babe, and then presented it to her for her birthday, on stage at the Bottom Line during one of her showcases.

Part of the reason she is so admired in the biz is because she goes out of her way to promote other musicians. She casually drops names in the book, not as in “look who I’ve worked with,” but more “you should check out…” including the likes of Richard Shindell (search out his “Are You Happy Now”), fellow Van Ronk student David Massengill (whose releases I’ve reviewed), and so many others. Always on the search for new people, Christine is genuinely happy to get a community going, which she explains in the book how it is done so the reader can do the same.

[The version of the book I read was a pre-release, that did not contain the Appendix or photos, so I will bemusedly leave this space blank until I see a copy.]



This autobiography is an easy and fun read, and it is easy to recommended it to anyone who loves stories of the beginning of one’s career, road stories (including a large focus on Canada and Australia), a somewhat how-to, and as a source of new music worth listening to by other artists.

Yes, I’ve never met Christine Lavin, but she makes me feel comfortable and comforted, with her easy manner on stage, and in both song and voice, sung and written. My partner read the book, and though she is less familiar with Christine’s work, she thoroughly enjoyed the book as well, finding the cheerful and hopeful tone in the face of both luck and adversity, enjoyable and hopeful.

Ode to a Mixed Tape – Traditional Folk, 2001

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

This tape was one I made as a traditional folk sampler. Rather than using the top-10 Peter Paul & Mary, Kingston Trio, (New) Christy Minstrels kind of thing (and I don’t believe I own any [N]CM), I went for the songs. Traditional folk music is largely based on a history of orality (unlike, say, classical or opera, which are literary), so the content is more fluid as it was passed down through time. That is why there is more than one version of many of the songs on the first side, to show different versions of essentially the same tune. The songs I chose range from early Madrigals through Americana and, of course, Woody (albeit indirectly). As always, I have tried to find videos where available, but folk music is not highly sought in a YouTube world. Even the images of the covers were hard to come by on many. Hopefully that will change. Some of the bands below are kind of obscure, most of them I bought in used stores from the Sally Ann (Salvation Army to you uninitiated), to used furniture stores, to garage sales. I will take my music as passed down, as well.

SIDE ONE

Smith Sisters – Sunnyside
These two songs are off the Bluebird album (all three of their releases are named in relation to aviary), on Flying Fish Records in 1984, which I picked up at Tower for $0.99. This song was most notably done earlier by the Carter Family way back when, though it had a resurgence after it appeared on the soundtrack of O! Brother Where Art Thou?. This version, which ends the album, is suitably cheerful, with Debi Smith’s yodel-style vocals focused and strong, yet playful, with sister Megan keeping up harmony as usual (i.e., very well). Their sound is a bit chirpy, so the album titles make sense. It’s a very warm version of the song.
Smith Sisters – Leatherwing Bat
This is a classic song, covered by just about everyone from the early ‘60s folk movement, such as PP&M. It takes different birds (there’s that association again), and uses them to look at relationships, such as infidelity, courtship, etc., to explain things such as the color of the birds. What’s interesting to me is that in this ‘80s retelling, they subtly adapt some of the wording, such as changing the meaning of bow from bow-and-arrow to hair ribbons. The original song is a little bitter, and they make it a bit more, er, modern.

Allen-Ward Trio – Leather Winged Bat
I picked up this 1965 self-titled album for $1.00 during the late ‘80s, at a used furniture store in Ontario. There is a sticker on the cover (on the plastic wrap) that says, “The #1 Folk Act From Canada.” As far as I know, this is their own release, which is a shame because they are amazingly good. Along with some originals (such as the truly beautiful “I Need a Friend,” hauntingly sung by Lynn Ward, supported by her brother Robin and Craig Allen). In their version of “LWB,” it starts off with a Celtic guitar lift that transforms into the flow of the melody of the song. They do the more classic version, filled with luscious three-part harmony.
Allen-Ward Trio – The Cuckoo
This is another traditional song that was widely covered during the ‘60s. It was totally rewritten in the ‘80s by NYC’s Washington Squares who use the chorus of “On the fourth day of July” and turn it into a U.S. political statement, rather than the original British one about poverty and the desire for beauty: “Oh the cuckoo is a pretty bird / And I wish she were mine / I would never give her water / I would only give her wine.” What’s interesting about the A-WT version is they do it a capella, relying only on three-part harmonies. They sound great together.
Allen-Ward Trio – No More Auction Block
Robin Ward takes the lead vocals in this (with Lynn and Craig backing up) powerful spiritual. Many times when a white group does spirituals, it has a sense of disingenuousness, but not here. Robin has a mournful tone that works with both passion and prayerful of freedom. I’ve heard other versions of this song, but this one remains my favorite.
Check out: thewhitsuntidesingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-favorite-folk-album-of-all-time.html

Ramblers Three – Charlottetown Is Burning Down
Don’t know what the hell I did with this record, but I can’t seem to find it on my shelf, nor much info on the net. Oh, well. The Ramblers Three are definitely in the mode of the Kingston Trio (there were a lot of them). This version of “Charlottetown” is a bit vanilla, but has some interesting harmonies. It’s a nicely-done sing-a-long chorus of a kiss-off to Liza-Jane.
Ramblers Three – Oh, Let Me Fly
In a similarly straightforward way, they cover this spiritual. It’s smooth and solid harmony in, again, Kingston Trio mode. It’s pretty rich even in its classic way.

Brown & Dana – Oh, Let Me Fly
These songs come from Garrett Brown and Al Dana’s album, It Was a Very Good Year,” on MGM in 1963. Their version of this spiritual is, as Joe Goldberg says in the liner notes, “One minute and 37 seconds of pure swing!” It does too. The arrangement is very upbeat and a totally different rhythm than the Ramblers Three, with a bop beat rather than a smooth folkie.
Brown & Dana – Sinner Man
This is another standard, but I have to say this is among my fave versions. The background laugh during the “Satan said Sinner man, come right in,” is a perfect touch. Songs that are rounds like this have a tendency to be a bit too circular and wearying (e.g., just about anyone’s version of “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”), but this one remains interesting all the way through, even on repeated listening. There is an excitement level that comes through in the rhythmic strum and emotion they put behind it.

Steeleye Span – Cold, Haily, Rainy Night
Here are three cuts come from their 1971 Big Tree record, Please to See the King (their second release). As when I saw Steeleye Span play at the Bottom Line in NYC during the ‘80s, they have an interesting mix of olde English sound with electric instruments, giving these songs a cold, static-electricity feel that is sharp as a needle, an aural version of a metallic taste in the mouth; and yet, it works. Back in the Renaissance period, soldiers were sort of like rock stars, and were just as fickle. Here is a story of an innkeeper’s daughter who makes the mistake of “opening up her window,” and what becomes of it.
Steeleye Span – Jigs: Bryan O’Lynn/ The Hag with the Money
An instrumental mix of two different jigs with that same blue electric feel to them, this song is a fine mixture of the old and the new. Its use of sharp and flat notes with the electric guitar makes it sound as jolly as it does ominous.
Steeleye Span – The King
This song was reportedly (on their liner notes) sung by itinerants who brought a dead wren door to door just past Christmas, and asked for money to see “the king.” Because it’s done a capella, it has more of a madrigal (and nasal) tone that is more traditional than most of the other SS electrified material. It’s a beautiful piece (as is their electric stuff, as well).




Pete Seeger – Deportee
This cut is from Pete Seeger Sings Woody Guthrie, a 1967 Folkways release. It’s amusing to me how Pete has spent so much of his life singing the songs of Woody Guthrie, and now people are singing songs of and about him (e.g., Harry Chapin’s “Old Folkie”). Pete’s probably not long for this world, considering his age, but his music will last a lot longer. Even in this case where he sings one of Woody’s power songs, when people cover it, they do Pete doing Woody, rather than just Woody (though it should be noted that Woody penned the words, and Martin Hoffman wrote the tune). This song is based on a true event of a plane going down in Los Gatos Canyon where everyone was killed, but the news reports just referred to the people on the plane as deportees, not even bothering to publish the names. The song is long and simple, with Pete on vocal and banjo, but it is very powerful. While Pete should not be forgotten for his amazing music (even the minor point of changing “We Will Overcome” to “We Shall Overcome,” making the song so much stronger), he was a good interpreter of other’s songs as well. I was fortunate to see him play a couple of times in large settings, including singing with Arlo Guthrie and Bob Dylan in 1973 at the Friends of Chile Concert at the Felt Forum (which became the Theater at MSG) in NYC; I also got to stand next to him – he’s freakin’ tall, man – a couple of years ago in Central Park during a Toshi Regon soundcheck. There are lots of videos of this song on the ‘Net, just none of Pete doing it.

Sweet Honey in the Rock – Deportee
Ah, Sweet Honey in the Rock. They are magical on record and even more so live, and I’ve seen them four times (at Queens College, twice at Carnegie Hall, and their annual February children’s concert in the school across the street from Irving Plaza). Mostly a capella (with some minor instrumentation such as shakers), these women based in Washington, DC, have one of the deepest harmonies you are ever likely to hear. Their version of this song, from 1985’s, The Other Side, released on Flying Fish, is sung at almost a whisper, with a cry out here and there, but is still full of power. These use the echo to just the right level to make it haunting. Just gorgeous.

Len & Judy – The Land of Odin
This song is arguably “traditional,” and comes across as sort of psychedelic folk. Off the Folk Songs / Sweet & Bittersweet album on Prestige in 1965 (bought it for $1.00 at the same time as the Allen-Ward Trio, above), it discusses an island in the sky 10,000 miles high that is 10,000 miles long by 10,000 miles wide. Yeah, it’s kinda off-kilter. Siblings Len and Judy Novy have a sweet harmony, but this song has since become a bit tiresome for me. When I made this tape, I knew I was going to give a copy of it to someone of Norwegian heritage, and had just enough room at the end to add this one. Now I wish I had put a different song on, because L&J are fine, it’s the song that’s kind of lost its appeal to me.

SIDE TWO


Most of the songs on this side, with two exceptions, are either from two live compilations, Folk Era’s Live Sampler on Folk Era in 1988 (from earlier recordings), and Greatest Folksingers of the ‘Sixties a comp made “from the Vanguard folk catalogue” and “highlights of the Newport Folk Festivals” (got it at a Sally Ann for $7.99). This latter collection is from 1987 on Vanguard Records. The notation FE and GF will state from which it originates.

Northeast Winds – Martin Greigh
An Irish group from New England, the NEW is a foursome that has a really nice traditional sound, and lush harmonies. This is clearly shown in the song (pronounced “Martin Gray”), about a sailing family whose matriarch leaves to live inland, and the father, at some point, just takes off in the ship and doesn’t return (“Four boats in the harbor / Where’s the Martin Greigh / She was due to fetch the cutty lights / By 3 o’clock today / No sail on the horizon / No vessel by the cay…” I fell in love with song (and this version) the first time I heard it, especially on the penultimate chorus where they sing it a capella, thick with their Irish lilt (think the Beach Boys’ “Sloop John B”). [FE]

Judy Collins / Theodore Bikel – Greenland Whale Fisheries
There are two different versions of this song; one is where the captain of the ship is sorrowful for losing some of the crew, and the other where he is sadder about losing the whale than his men. This one falls to the latter, as Theodore Bikel, who does the harmony to Collin’s straightforward singing, states in one of his solo moments, “O the losing of these gallant men / It grieves my heart so / but the losing of this great sperm whale / It grieves me 10 times more.” Still, it’s a great, blustery, sad whaling song that has been covered umpteen times, but this live at the Newport version remains my fave one (the video is the same cut). [GF]


Figgy Duff – Yankee Clipper
For those who don’t know, as they apparently do not have a wide knowledge base, Figgy Duff is a folk band from New Foundland who, for a while (before the death of its founder), had an lush Celtic sound, as so many great groups from the Maritimes do (e.g., the Rankin Family). I first heard Figgy Duff on the CBC while driving to Ontario, and was blown away by them. I given the then-recently released Weather Out the Storm (nominated for a Juno award) in 1989 as a present. This cut is actually a medley of the song mixed with some jigs between stanzas. The core of the song is a married woman’s fling with the captain of said ship, and its implications. Definitely upbeat melody and the jigs are worked in quite smoothly.

Ian & Sylvia – You Were on My Mind
This Canadian duo had a few hits, most notably this and “Four Strong Winds,” though most Yanks know the We Five version (link to the video is below), which was on pop radio. This is more country than folk, I guess, but it’s a great song in the tradition. Ian went on to greater country fame as a solo, but they still perform together occasionally. I got this off their two-volume greatest hits package that is wonderful from beginning to end. It’s understandable why they are considered a national treasure up north.

Bonus: The We Five version: www.youtube.com/watch?v=29uNvGHsRlc

Odetta – John Henry
The late Odetta was a strong woman who sang of freedom, and was the forerunner of so many powerful women of color. I had the fortune to see her play at the Calgary Folk Festival a decade or so back, and even at that stage, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her version of the John Henry tall tale of man-vs.-machine is, as far as I’m concerned, the definitive one. She whoops at the right moments (when “John Henry whoops the steel on down”). This song, under her tutelage, builds to a climax of JH’s death of exhaustion by making the audience feel that drain, as she chugs the song with a steam engine rhythm. [GF]

Bob Gibson & Hamilton Camp – Well, Well, Well
Both are well-known folkies from the ‘60s, with Camp having a big hit in his native Canada with a cover of Dylan’s “Girl From the North County”; he was also a sit-com actor during the ‘70s, usually playing bizarre boyfriends (The Marry Tyler Moore Show in the famous “Toulouse Lautrec is my favorite artist” episode), or deranged bosses or dads of dates; you’d know him if you saw him. What I like especially about their coverage of this spiritual, other than (but including) the way their voices blend together so well, well, well, is that they sing it heartfelt, rather than trying to show how cool they are being white singing a spiritual. They have a Joe and Eddy kind of appeal to them. [GF]


Staple Singers – I Wish I Had Answered
The Staple Singers were definitely known for their gospel recordings, such as “I’ll Take You There” and the uplifiting “Respect Yourself.” This live song is solid R&B gospel at its finest, with hands clapping, and a cry for redemption. The song’s protagonist has an ever increasing fever through the song, and is now realizing, as his end is nigh, that he wished he had answered the Lord’s call sooner. What’s also great about the song is that some of the Staples get solos, such as Mavis, and show their gifts. It’s a fun song, with a message. [GF]

Flatt & Scruggs – Salty Dog Blues
Yeah, they were known for doing a little theme that starts off, “Lemme tell you all a story ‘bout a man named Jed…” However, the songs I like them for are “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” and this one. Bluegrass central, F&S knew not only how pick ‘em, they knew how to pick ‘em. Almost an answer to Mama Thornton’s “Hound Dog,” from the man’s perspective, but as a total rave-up. The clip below is short, but it sounds just like the recording on the CD. [GF]


The Weavers – Erie Canal
This is arguably the best known recording of the tape. It has that great tongue-twister line (sung by Pete), “We mighta gotten floundered on a chunk o’ Lackawanna coal.” The lyrics were pretty salty for the time, including drinking, hoisting of panties up the flagpole (“as a sig-a-n’l of distress”), and general partying on the boat (hence the almost floundering). Even after all these years, it still has a memorable, catchy chorus. [GF]


Clancy Brothers – Sweet Thames Flow Softly
A lovely ballad by those Irish lads, the Clancy Brothers, who in this case join with Robbie O’Connell, as opposed to Tommy Makem. It is a wistful remembrance of the girl the singer loves as they stood by the Thames River, with the lilt of the evening meeting the lilt of the brogue. Sort of an Irish version of “Sunday Will Never Be the Same,” I guess. If I had more room on the tape, I would have added the live versions of “Finnegan’s Wake” and their powerful “Risin’ of the Moon” from this CD. [FE]

Northeast Winds – Leaving of Liverpool
This is similar to “Sweet Thames,” but a bit more upbeat, as the singer / sailor is about to sail off to places unknown (“Tis not the leavin’ of Liverpool that grieves me / But my darlin’ when I think of thee”). NEW may have been from New England, but they had the Irish sound down so perfect (hardly surprising considering the large Irish population in that town). This is just a beautiful song full of expectant desire. [FE]

Northeast Winds – The Orange and the Green
I know the Irish Rovers are more famous for this song, but (a) I don’t have theirs, and (b) I really like this live version. For those who don’t know it, the song is about a man who grew up with a Catholic father and a Protestant mother (“And it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen / My father he was Orange and me mother she was Green”). It’s a funny, tragic-sorta, upbeat tune about difference in the culture clash. [FE]

Tommy Makem – The Whistling Gypsy
Tommy Makem made a notch in the folk idiom in the U.S. with this number. It’s a jolly, loving song about a father who chases his daughter who has run off with what he believes to be a Gypsy, but is in for a surprise. The song’s catchy “La-de-do La-de-do-da-day / La-de-do La-de-day-hee” chorus stays in the brain well past the song being done. The video is not the same version as the recording, but it is the correct artist from the right period of time, so there, deal with it. Don’t get me (non)-Irish up!