Music – Page 19 – Maverick Philosopher

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Nostalgia and Memory

Let's get things off to a rousing start with

Bob Seger, Old Time Rock and Roll. But does it really soothe the soul, or rather stoke The Fire Down Below? This one goes out to Al 'Grope' Franken. I hereby proffer some friendly avuncular advice to my distaff readers, all three of them: never underestimate the ferocity of that fire. Good men battle it all their lives; bad men give into it.

Moody Blues, Your Wildest Dreams. The best ode to Boomer nostalgia.

Beatles, In My Life

Billie Holliday, The Way You Looked Tonight. An uncommonly long intro. I first heard this old tune in the The Lettermen version in 1961.

Roger McGuinn, Tom Petty, et al., My Back Pages. Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert.

Dionne Warwick, Always Something There to Remind Me

Kinks, Come Dancing

UPDATE (12/3) A reader likes the Holliday selection:

Thank you for posting Billie last night. Nothing that Teddy Wilson did was ever bad, in my view, and often approached greatness. The tp solo at 0:40 is by Irving Randolph, one of the best artists of the 1930s, up there with Bunny Berigan (who his style resembles, and both are based on Armstrong). This is one of four titles recorded in sessions for Brunswick in NY, Oct 1936. Unfortunately his playing never recovered after an illness in 1939, and his work is rare. Here he is with Billie in Who Loves You, from the same sessions. There is also some stellar work by Wilson starting 1:48. Krupa is on drums, in unusually restrained mode.

As for Bunny Berigan, here he is in "I Can't Get Started" from 1937. More from the reader:

And thanks for posting the Berigan! Another creative soul destroyed by the bottle. When asked how he was able to play so well while drunk, he supposedly replied, “I practice drunk.” On one recording, can’t remember which, he actually had to be held up in order to play. But the playing was sublime.

In New York, on the day of the recording, August 7, 1937, Berigan was late, leading several band members to find him drunk in a bar on 147th Avenue. Taking him to Victor Studios, Berigan was so intoxicated his band members had to hold him up so he could sing and play trumpet. By the end of the song, as Berigan hit high E and finished, the band remained quiet; Astonished by Bergian's technical skill in spite of his drunken stupor, several members of his orchestra paid for cuts of the record to keep for themselves.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Can%27t_Get_Started#Bunny_Berigan

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Some ‘Song’ Songs

Mose Allison, The Song is Ended

Punch Bros., Dink's Song

Dave van Ronk, Dink's Song

Arlo Guthrie, Percy's Song

Fairport Convention, Percy's Song

Doors, Alabama Song

Roberta Flack, Killing Me Softly with his Song

Bob Dylan, Song to Woody

Chad and Jeremy, Summer Song

Simon and Garfunkel, 59th Street Bridge Song

Brook Benton, The Boll Weevil Song

Sages of the Ages Against Rap

Music directly imitates the passions or states of the soul . . . when one listens to music that imitates a certain passion, he becomes imbued with the same passion; and if over a long time he habitually listens to music that rouses ignoble passions, his whole character will be shaped to an ignoble form.ⁱ

Aristotle recognized that music communicates emotion, and that immoral music can shape our character for the worse.

More here.

Rap sheets of rappers.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Some ‘Night’ Songs

Them, Here Comes the Night. Still gives me shivers up and down the spine as it did in '65. A blend of the Dionysian and the tender. A similar blend in Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman.

Bob Dylan, "Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you are trying to be so quiet?" Visions of Johanna, live from '66. Marianne Faithfull does a good job with it.

Beatles, The Night Before

Don McLean, Starry, Starry Night

Sam Cooke, Another Saturday Night

The Band, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down

Tom Waits, The Heart of Saturday Night

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Blues Varia

Memphis Minnie, I'm a Bad Luck Woman, 1936.

Lizzie Douglas (June 3, 1897 – August 6, 1973), known as Memphis Minnie, was a blues guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter whose recording career lasted from the 1920s to the 1950s. [. . .] She presented herself to the public as being feminine and ladylike, wearing expensive dresses and jewelry, but she was aggressive when she needed to be and was not shy when it came to fighting.^[26] According to the blues musician Johnny Shines, "Any men fool with her she'd go for them right away. She didn't take no foolishness off them. Guitar, pocket knife, pistol, anything she get her hand on she'd use it".^[4] (Wikipedia)

Tommy McClennan, Whisky-Headed Woman, 1939. Here is what Canned Heat make of it.

Robert Petway, Catfish Blues, 1941. An influential blues classic. Little is known of the man.

Elmore James, Dust My Broom

Elmore James, It Hurts Me Too

Robert Johnson, Sweet Home Chicago

Buddy Guy, Eric Clapton, et al., Sweet Home Chicago. Looks like a Stratocaster festival. Only Johnny Winter is not playing a Strat.

Slim Harpo, Baby, Scratch My Back

Slim Harpo, Mohair Sam

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Midnight and Moonlight

J. J. Cale, After Midnight

Thelonious Monk, 'Round Midnight

Jack Kerouac, Old Angel Midnight

Brother Dege, Old Angel Midnight

Allman Bros., Midnight Rider

Rolling Stones, Midnight Rambler

B. B. King, et al., Midnight Hour

Maria Muldaur, Midnight at the Oasis (This one goes out to Mary Korzen and the Boston Spring of '74)

Patsy Cline, Walkin' After Midnight

Joey Powers, Midnight Mary. A one-hit wonder.

Kenny Ball, Midnight in Moscow One of many memorable instrumentals from the early '60s.

Rolling Stones, Moonlight Mile

Doors, Moonlight Drive

Anne Murray, Shadows in the Moonlight (This one goes out to K. P. and the Summer of '79)

Ludwig van Beethoven, Moonlight Sonata. A part of it anyway with scenes from the great Coen Bros. film, "The Man Who Wasn't There."

Addendum:

A reader comments:

If you are to include Beethoven, It would be perverse to omit Schumann’s Mondnacht (moonlit night), set to a poem by Eichendorff, supposedly the favourite poem of the Germans, when they are not invading other countries. “The image of death is tenderly and touchingly portrayed as the soul quietly returning home”. The progression at 2:23 is sublime.

Unusual version by Barbra Streisand here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcGtMEiVx_Y

Es war, als hätt' der Himmel,

Die Erde still geküßt,

Daß sie im Blütenschimmer

Von ihm nur träumen müßt.

Die Luft ging durch die Felder,

Die Ähren wogten sacht,

Es rauschten leis die Wälder,

So sternklar war die Nacht.

Und meine Seele spannte

Weit ihre Flügel aus,

Flog durch die stillen Lande,

Als flöge sie nach Haus.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Kerouac Goes Home in October

Jack Kerouac quit the mortal coil 48 years ago today, securing his release from the samsaric wheel of the quivering meat conception, and the granting of his wish:

The wheel of the quivering meat conception . . . . . . I wish I was free of that slaving meat wheel and safe in heaven dead. (Mexico City Blues, 1959, 211th Chorus).

The Last Interview, 12 October 1969. "I'm not a beatnik. I'm a Catholic." "I just sneak into church now, at dusk, at vespers. But yeah, as you get older you get more . . . genealogical."

As much of a screw-up and sinner as he was, as irresponsible, self-indulgent, and self-destructive, Kerouac was a deeply religious man. He went through a Buddhist phase, but at the end he came home to Catholicism.

"Everybody goes home in October." (On the Road, Part I, Ch. 14, Para 1) Here's the whole paragraph:

At dawn my bus was zooming across the Arizona desert — Indio, Blythe, Salome (where she danced); the great dry stretches leading to Mexican mountains in the south. Then we swung north to the Arizona mountains, Flagstaff, clifftowns. I had a book with me I stole from a Hollywood stall, "Le Grand Meaulnes" by Alain-Fournier, but I preferred reading the American landscape as we went along. Every bump, rise, and stretch in it mystified my longing. In inky night we crossed New Mexico; at gray dawn it was Dalhart, Texas; in the bleak Sunday afternoon we rode through one Oklahoma flat-town after another; at nightfall it was Kansas. The bus roared on. I was going home in October. Everybody goes home in October.

"Pretty girls make graves." (Dharma Bums)

Jack Kerouac, Desolation Angels (G. P. Putnam 1965), p. 48:

Outside it's October night in Manhattan and on the waterfront wholesale markets there are barrels with fires left burning in them by the longshoremen where I stop and warm my hands and take a nip two nips from the bottle and hear the bvoom of ships in the channel and I look up and there, the same stars as over Lowell, October, old melancholy October, tender and loving and sad, and it will all tie up eventually into a perfect posy of love I think and I shall present it to Tathagata, my Lord, to God, saying "Lord Thou didst exult — and praise be You for showing me how You did it — Lord now I'm ready for more — And this time I won't whine — This time I'll keep my mind clear on the fact that it is Thy Empty Forms."

. . . This world, the palpable thought of God . . . [ellipsis in original]

Alela Diane, We Are Nothing

Jack Kerouac, Tristessa (written 1955-56, first published in 1960), p. 59:

Since beginningless time and into the never-ending future, men have loved women without telling them, and the Lord has loved them without telling, and the void is not the void because there's nothing to be empty of.

Jay Farrar and Ben Gibbard, California Zephyr

10,000 Maniacs, Hey Jack Kerouac

Tom Waits, Jack Kerouac on the Road

Aztec Two-Step, The Persecution and Restoration of Dean Moriarty

Some readings:

Jack Kerouac, Mexico City Blues, 228th Chorus

Jack Kerouac, Safe in Heaven, Dead. Good sound quality. "I wish I was free of that slaving meat wheel, safe in heaven, dead."

Jack Kerouac, Charlie Parker. "Charlie, Parker, lay the bane off me, and everybody."

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Tom Petty (1950-2017)

When the '60s ended my musical interests shifted to jazz and classical, so my acquaintance with rock from the '70s on is pretty spotty. But I sat up and took notice when, in the late '80s, Petty teamed up with his elders Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison, George Harrison and Jeff Lynne to form the supergroup, The Traveling Wilburys. With Petty's death, Dylan and Lynne are the sole remaining Wilburys.

And as we all approach The End of the Line, the Traveling Wilburys have some words of wisdom:

Maybe somewhere down the road a ways
You'll think of me and wonder where I am these days
Maybe somewhere down the road when someone plays
Purple Haze

[. . .]

Well it's all right, even if you're old and gray
Well it's all right, you still have something to say
Well it's all right, remember to live and let live
Well it's all right, best you can do is forgive.

Free Fallin'

I Won't Back Down

Johnny Cash has a great version

Handle with Care

Charlie Parker

A tribute to Charlie Parker by Jack Kerouac and Steve Allen. Hyper-romanticism and cool jazz.

Charlie Parker looked like Buddha. Charlie Parker . . . was called the perfect musician and his expression on his face was as calm beautiful and profound as the image of the Buddha represented in the East the lidded eyes the expression that says: all is well.

This was what Charlie Parker said when he played: all is well. You had the feeling of early-in-the-morning like a hermit's joy or like the perfect cry of some wild gang at a jam session Wail! Whap! Charlie burst his lungs to reach the speed of what the speedsters wanted and what they wanted was his eternal slowdown. A great musician and a great creator of forms . . . .

. . . Charlie Parker whistling them on to the brink of eternity with his Irish St. Patrick Patootlestick. And like the holy mists we blop and we plop in the waters of slaughter and white meat and die one after one in Time. And how sweet a story it is

. . . Charlie Parker forgive me. Forgive me for not answering your eyes. For not having made an indication of that which you can devise. Charlie Parker pray for me. Pray for me and everybody.

In the Nirvanas of your brain where you hide indulgent and huge no longer Charlie Parker but the secret unsayable Name that carries with it merit not-to-be-measured from here to up down east or west.

Charlie Parker lay the bane off me – – and everybody.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: September Songs

But first an old Marvelettes tune to mark the passing of Hugh Hefner. But how can you listen to just one Marvelettes number?

Beechwood 45789.

Don't Mess with Bill

Please Mr. Postman

…………………..

September ends. A transitional month leading from hot August to glorious October, Kerouac month in the MavPhil 'liturgy.'

Dinah Washington, September in the Rain

Rod Stewart, Maggie May. "Wake up Maggie, I think I got something to say to you/It's late September and I really should be back at school."

Carole King, It Might as Well Rain Until September

Frank Sinatra, September of My Years

George Shearing, September in the Rain

Walter Huston, September Song

UPDATE (10/1)

This from a London reader:

Thanks for linking to the George Shearing ‘September’. I had forgotten he grew up in London (in Battersea, just down the road from me). I love the Bird-like flights on the piano. Indeed I think he wrote ‘Lullaby of Birdland’. Another Londoner is Helen Shapiro who does a great version of ‘It might as well rain until September’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=De0_zZ7qQDA. Great alto voice, never made it in the US as far as I know. There is a strange account of her conversion to Christianity here.

I was first hipped to Shearing by Kerouac who referred to him in On the Road. I too love the'Bird'-like flights on the piano. The allusion is to Charley 'Bird' Parker, also beloved of Kerouac. (Kerouac month hereabouts starts today.) Helen Shapiro is new to me, thanks. She does a great job with the Carole King composition. Believe it or not, King's version is a demo. That's one hell of a demo. A YouTuber points out that Shapiro was not part of the 1964 'British Invasion.' I wonder why.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: ‘Daddy’ Songs

Marty Robbins, That Silver-Haired Daddy of Mine. While we have old Marty cued up, let's enjoy his signature number, El Paso.

Joan Baez, Daddy, You've Been on My Mind

Shep and the Limelites, Daddy's Home, 1961

The Rivingtons, Papa Oom Mow Mow

Louis Armstrong, I'm a Dong Dong Daddy (from Dumas)

Emmylou Harris, To Daddy

Hank Williams, I'm a Long Gone Daddy

Jim Reeves, Padre of Old San Antone

Paul Simon, Father and Daughter

Hank Williams, My Son Calls Another Man 'Daddy'

Bo Diddley, Diddley Daddy

Eric Clapton, My Father's Eyes

Musical Plagiarism?

Beverly Maher and Gordon Jenkins, Crescent City Blues. Does this 1953 tune remind you of something? How about Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues? 1955 version. Live San Quentin 1969 version.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: The Forgotten and Underplayed

Betty Everett, You're No Good, 1963. More soulful than the 1975 Linda Ronstadt version.

The Ikettes, I'm Blue, 1962.

Lee Dorsey, Ya Ya, 1961. Simplicity itself. Three chords. I-IV-V progression. No bridge.

Paul Anka, A Steel Guitar and a Glass of Wine, 1962.

Carole King, Crying in the Rain, 1963. The earnest girl-feeling of young Carole makes it better than the Everly Bros.' more polished and better executed version.

Don Gibson, Sea of a Heartbreak. A crossover hit from 1961. It's a crime for the oldies stations to ignore this great song.

Ketty Lester, Love Letters, 1961. Gets some play, but not enough.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Water High, Wide, Dirty, Troubled, and Moody

In Dispatch from Houston, our friend Patrick Kurp of Anecdotal Evidence reports:

Power out. Car flooded. Books dry.

So all is well. But I don't reckon Dean Martin will be returning to Houston for a spell even if he could, he being dead and all.

Not to make light of the suffering of those sorely afflicted. Pray, send benevolent thoughts, fork over some serious money for relief efforts, but don't blog about it. Your charitable contribution, that is.

Bob Dylan, High Water. This is a late-career Dylan gem from Love and Theft (2001). A tribute to Charley Patton. Demonstrates Dylan's mastery of the arcana of Americana. Our greatest and deepest singer-songwriter.

My favorite verse:

Well, George Lewis told the Englishman, the Italian and the Jew
You can't open up your mind, boys, to every conceivable point of view
They got Charles Darwin trapped out there on Highway 5
Judge says to the High Sheriff, "I want them dead or alive"
Either one, I don't care, high water everywhere.

Nosiree, Bob, you can't open up your mind to every conceivable point of view, especially when it's not dark yet, but getting there.

Charley Patton, High Water Everywhere. Nice slide show.

The Band, Up on Cripple Creek

Jimi Hendrix, May This Be Love. I had forgotten the wonderful guitar solo.

Karla Bonoff, The Water is Wide. I listened to a lot of Bonoff in the early '80s. She does a great job with this traditional song.

Bill Monroe and Doc Watson, Banks of the Ohio. Joan Baez's version from an obscure 1959 album, Folksingers 'Round Harvard Square.

Similar theme though not water-related: Doc Watson, Tom Dooley. Doc and family in a BBC clip.

Standells, Dirty Water. Boston and the River Charles. My mecca in the '70s, the Athens of America, the Hub of the Universe, etc. A great town to be young in. But when it comes time to own property and pay taxes, then a right-thinking man high tails it for the West.

Simon and Garfunkel, Bridge Over Troubled Water. A beautiful song.

Henry Mancini, Moon River. This was Jack Kerouac's favorite song. Ellis Amburn, Subterranean Kerouac (St. Martin's 1998), p. 324:

One night he [Kerouac, during a 1962 visit to Lowell, Mass.] left a bar called Chuck's with Huck Finneral, a reedy, behatted eccentric who carried a business card that read: "Professional killer . . . virgins fixed . . . orgies organized, dinosaurs neutered, contracts & leases broken." Huck's philosophy of life was: "Better a wise madness than a foolish sanity." They drove to a friend's house in Merrimack, New Hampshire, and on the way, Jack sang "Moon River," calling it his favorite song. Composed by Henry Mancini and Johnny Mercer, "Moon River" was the theme song of the popular Audrey Hepburn movie Breakfast at Tiffany's. Sobbed by a harmonica, later swelling with strings and chorus, the plaintive tune's gentle but epic-like lyrics describe a dreamer and roamer not unlike Kerouac.

Indeed they do. A restless dreamer, a lonesome traveller, a dharma seeker, a desolation angel passing through this vale of mist, a drifter on the river of samsara hoping one day to cross to the Far Shore. Here is another version of the tune with some beautiful images.

Doc Watson, Moody River. A moodier version than the Pat Boone hit which was based on the Chase Webster effort.

Clever YouTube comment: "It might be a little early in the day for an Am7." But this here's Saturday night and I'm working on my second wine spodiodi. Chords minor and melancholy go good 'long about now.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Help

Before we get under way, a song in celebration of President Trump's pardon of Sheriff Joe Arpaio of Maricopa County, Arizona. A stinging rebuke to Obama & Co. and their contempt for the rule of law.

Bobby Fuller Five, I Fought the Law and the Law Won

………………………..

Canned Heat, Help Me. Help me consolate my weary mind. I love that 'consolate.'

Johnny Cash, Help Me.

Beach Boys, Help Me, Rhonda

Hank Williams, I Can't Help it If I'm Still in Love with You. Linda Ronstadt's version is wonderful, but does it get the length of the great Patsy Cline's?

Ringo Starr, With a Little Help from My Friends

Elvis Presley, Can't Help Falling in Love

Highwaymen, Help Me Make it Through the Night

Joni Mitchell, Help Me

Hank Locklin, Please Help Me, I'm Falling

Here is Skeeter Davis' answer to Hank.