Saturday Night at the Oldies: ‘Foolish’ Songs for the Day after April Fool’s Day

I may be a day late and a dollar short, but here for your auditory amusement are some tunes in celebration or bemoanment of human folly the chief instance of which is romantic love.  Who has never been played for a fool by a charming member of the opposite sex?  Old age is the sovereign cure for romantic folly and I sincerely recommend it to the young and foolish.  Take care to get there.

Elvis Presley, A Fool Such as I
Ricky Nelson, Poor Little Fool.  Those "carefree devil eyes" will do it every time. 
Brenda Lee, Fool #1
The Shirelles, Foolish Little Girl
Ricky Nelson, Fools Rush In.  "Fools rush in/Where wise men never go/But wise men never fall in love/So how are they to know?" 
Sam Cooke, Fool's Paradise. Sage advice. 
Elvin Bishop, Fooled Around and Fell in Love
Kingston Trio, Some Fool Made a Soldier of Me
Quicksilver Messenger Service, The Fool
Tony Bennett and Bill Evans, My Foolish Heart
Bill Evans, Foolish Heart
Lesley Gore, She's a Fool
Paul McCartney, The Fool on the Hill

Aretha Franklin, Chain of Fools
Connie Francis, Everybody's Somebody's Fool
Grateful Dead, Ship of Fools
Frank Sinatra, I'm a Fool to Want You 

Holy Saturday Night at the Oldies: Death and Resurrection

Herewith, some definite decouplings of rock and roll from sex and drugs.

Norman Greenbaum, Spirit in the Sky

Johnny Cash, Personal Jesus. This is one powerful song.

Johnny Cash, Redemption

Clapton and Winwood, Presence of the Lord. Why is Clapton such a great guitarist? Not because of his technical virtuosity, his 'chops,' but because he has something to say.

George Harrison, My Sweet Lord

George Harrison, All Things Must Pass. Harrison was the Beatle with depth.

Bob Dylan, See that My Grave is Kept Clean

Joan Baez, Leonard Cohen, Ramblin' Jack Elliot, and Buffy Sainte-Marie, Passing Through

Ludwig Wittgenstein, Culture and Value, p. 45e: "Go on, believe! It does no harm."

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Saturday Night at the Oldies: Days of the Week

Melina Mercouri, Never on Sunday

Mamas and Papas, Monday, Monday

Marianne Faithfull,  Ruby Tuesday.  Moodier than the Stones' original.  She does a great version of Dylan's Visions of Johanna.

Simon and Garfunkel, Wednesday Morning 3 AM

Donovan, Jersey Thursday

Easybeats, Friday on My Mind

Sam Cooke, Another Saturday Night

Saturday night is many a Fool's Paradise.  Take a lesson, muchachos. Mose Allison's version.

Tom Waits, The Ghosts of Saturday Night.  One of the best by this latter-day quasi-Kerouac.

Bonus cut: Jerry Lee Lewis, Lonely Weekend

St. Valentine’s Eve at the Oldies: Love and Murder

We'll start with murder.  David Dalton (Who Is That Man? In Search of the Real Bob Dylan, Hyperion 2012, pp. 28-29, hyperlinks added!):

Most folk songs had grim, murderous content (and subtext). In Pretty Polly a man lures a young girl from her home with the promise of marriage,and then leads the pregnant girl to an already-dug grave and murders her.  In Love Henry a woman poisons her unfaithful lover, observed by an alarmed parrot that she also tries to kill. So it was a bit bizarre that these songs should become part of the sweetened, homogenized new pop music.

[. . .]

The original folk songs were potent, possessed stuff, but the folk trios had figured out how to make this grisly stuff palatable, which only proved that practically anything could be homogenized. Clean-cut guys and girls in crinolines, dressed as if for prom night, sang ancient curse-and-doom tales.  Their songs had sweet little melodies, but as in nursery rhymes, there was a dark gothic undercurrent to them — like Ring Around the Rosies, which happens to be a charming little plague song.

The most famous of these folk songs was the 1958 hit Tom Dooley, a track off a Kingston Trio album which set off the second folk revival [the first was in the early '40s with groups like the Weavers] and was Dylan's initial inspiration for getting involved in folk music.  [I prefer Doc Watson's version.] And it was the very success of the syrupy folk trios that inspired Dylan's future manager to assemble one himself: Peter, Paul and Mary.  They would make Dylan, the prophet of the folk protest movement, a star and lead to consequences that even he did not foresee.  Their version of Blowin' in the Wind would become so successful that it would sound the death knell for the folk protest movement.  Ultimately there would be more than sixty versions of it, "all performing the same function," as Michael Gray says, of "anesthetizing Dylan's message."

Be that as it may, it is a great song, one of the anthems of the Civil Rights movement.  Its power in no small measure is due to the allusiveness of its lyrics which deliver the protest message without tying it to particular events.  It's topical without being topical and marks a difference between Dylan, and say, Phil Ochs.

And now for some love songs.

Gloria Lynne, I Wish You Love.  A great version from 1964.  Lynne died at 83 in 2013.  Here's what Marlene Dietrich does with it.

Ketty Lester, Love Letters.  Another great old tune in a 1962 version.  The best to my taste.

Three for my wife.  An old Sam Cooke number, a lovely Shirelles tune, and my favorite from the Seekers.

Addenda:

1. Keith Burgess-Jackson quotes Jamie Glazov on the hatred of Islamists and leftists for St. Valentine's Day.  Another very interesting similarity between these two totalitarian movements.  Recalling past inamorata of a Saturday night while listening to sentimental songs  — is this not the height of bourgeois self-indulgence when you should be plotting ways to blow up the infidel or bring down capitalism?  But we who defend the private life against totalitarian scum must be careful not to retreat too far into the private life.  A certain amount of activism and engagement is necessary to keep the totalitarians in check.

2. On Thomas Merton: “All the love and all the death in me are at the moment wound up in Joan Baez’s ‘Silver Dagger,’” the man wrote to his lady love in 1966. “I can’t get it out of my head, day or night. I am obsessed with it. My whole being is saturated with it. The song is myself — and yourself for me, in a way.”

Don't sing love songs, you'll wake my mother
She's sleeping here right by my side
And in her right hand a silver dagger,
She says that I can't be your bride.

All men are false, says my mother,
They'll tell you wicked, lovin' lies.
The very next evening, they'll court another,
Leave you alone to pine and sigh.

My daddy is a handsome devil
He's got a chain five miles long,
And on every link a heart does dangle
Of another maid he's loved and wronged.

Go court another tender maiden,
And hope that she will be your wife,
For I've been warned, and I've decided
To sleep alone all of my life.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: The Perils of Pleasure on the Lost Highway

Oscar Wilde, De Profundis:

The gods had given me almost everything. But I let myself be lured into long spells of senseless and sensual ease. I amused myself with being a FLANEUR, a dandy, a man of fashion. I surrounded myself with the smaller natures and the meaner minds. I became the spendthrift of my own genius, and to waste an eternal youth gave me a curious joy. Tired of being on the heights, I deliberately went to the depths in the search for new sensation. What the paradox was to me in the sphere of thought, perversity became to me in the sphere of passion. Desire, at the end, was a malady, or a madness, or both. I grew careless of the lives of others. I took pleasure where it pleased me, and passed on. I forgot that every little action of the common day makes or unmakes character, and that therefore what one has done in the secret chamber one has some day to cry aloud on the housetop. I ceased to be lord over myself. I was no longer the captain of my soul, and did not know it. I allowed pleasure to dominate me. I ended in horrible disgrace. There is only one thing for me now, absolute humility.


Compare the words Plato puts in the mouth of Socrates in the Phaedo:

. . . every pleasure and pain has a kind of nail, and nails and pins her [the soul] to the body, and gives her a bodily nature, making her think that whatever the body says is true. (tr. F. J. Church St. 83)

Oscar WildeFrom Oscar Wilde to Plato to Hank Williams here channeled hauntingly through Kurt Nilsen and Willie Nelson:

I'm a rollin' stone all alone and lost
For a life of sin I have paid the cost
When I pass by all the people say
Just another guy on the lost highway

Just a deck of cards and a jug of wine
And a woman's lies make a life like mine
On the day we met, I went astray
I started rollin' down that lost highway

I was just a lad, nearly 22
Neither good nor bad, just a kid like you
And now I'm lost, too late to pray
Lord I paid the cost, on the lost highway

Now boys don't start your ramblin' 'round
On this road of sin are you sorrow bound
Take my advice or you'll curse the day.
You started rollin' down that lost highway.

Tom Petty version.

The Byrds, Life in Prison

Warren Zevon, Carmelita

Nina Simone, House of the Rising Sun

Doc Watson, Tom Dooley.  The Kingston Trio's 'collegiate folk'  version from 1958.

Merle Haggard, The Fugitive

Marty Robbins, Devil Woman

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Songs Suggestive of Chess

Bob Dylan, Queen Jane Approximately

Bob Seger, Night Moves

Jerry Lee Lewis, You Win Again

Beatles, I'm a Loser

Bob Dylan, Only a Pawn in Their Game

Frank Sinatra, The Tender Trap

Los Bravos, Black is Black

Jefferson Airplane, White Rabbit

When the men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving low.
Go ask Alice
I think she'll know.
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead,
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's "off with her head!"
Remember what the dormouse said:
"Feed your head. Feed your head. Feed your head"

Beatles, When I'm 64

Stanley Brothers, Rank Strangers

Megadeth, Endgame.  This one goes out to Dale Tuggy who likes this stuff.

Tommy Edwards, It's All in the Game

Yes, Your Move

. . . Make the white queen run so fast she hasn't got time
to make you a wife

'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and
it's news is captured for the queen to use
Move me on to any black square
Use me anytime you want
Just remember that the goal
Is for us all to capture all we want, anywhere

Don't surround yourself with yourself
Move on back two squares
Send an instant karma to me
Initial it with loving care
Don't surround yourself

'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and
it's news is captured for the queen to use . . .

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Jimmy Elledge and Some Other One-Hit Wonders

Jimmy Elledge, Funny How Time Slips Away.  Born January 8, 1943 in Nashville, Elledge died June 10, 2012 after complications following a stroke.  The song, written by Willie Nelson, made the #22 slot on Billboard Hot 100 in 1961, and sold over one million copies. Elledge never had another hit. As a YouTube commenter pointed out, that does sound like Floyd Cramer tickling the ivories.  A great song.  I always thought it was a female singing.

Rosie and the Originals, Angel Baby, 1960.  Perfect for cruising Whittier Boulevard in your '57 Chevy on a Saturday Night.

Claudine Clark, Party Lights, 1962

Contours, Do You Love Me? 1962

Norma Tanega, Walkin' My Cat Named 'Dog,' 1966.   A forgotten oldie if ever there was one.  If you remember this bit of vintage vinyl, one of the strangest songs of the '60s, I'll buy you a beer or a cat named 'dog.' One.

Bruce Channel, Hey! Baby, 1962

Barbara George, I Know, 1962

And now a couple more forgotten one-hit wonders who get almost no play on the oldies stations which is exactly why you need Uncle Wild Bill's Saturday Night at the Oldies:

Bob Luman, Let's Think About Livin'  Trivia question: The song contains references to three contemporary songs.  Name them.  And how quaint the reference to the fellow with the switch-blade knife.

Larry Finnegan, Dear One, 1962 

David Bowie?  Who's he?

UPDATE 1/17:  Dave B. tells me that I owe his wife Ronda a beer:

Yeah she remembered that song from the opening riff.
What a waste of a nice Gibson SG…

You are quite right, Dave: the girl is flailing at a Gibson SG standard.  Clapton, a.k.a 'God,' played them before switching over to Fender Strats.  I wanted an SG back around '67 or '68 but they were too much in demand.  So I 'settled' for  a Gibson ES 335TD.  But then I did the dumbest thing I ever did a few years later.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Ildefonso Fraga Ozuna and Baldemar Garza Huerta

Ildefonso Fraga Ozuna is better known as Sunny Ozuna of Sunny and the Sunglows fame.  Their big hit was Talk to Me that made the #11 spot on the Billboard Hot 100  in October, 1963.  It is a cover of Little Willie John's effort of the same name from 1958.

The Sunglows became the Sunliners and came out with Just a Dream.

Baldemar Garza Huerta, also a Tejano, is better known as Freddy Fender.

Crying Time

Cielito Lindo

La Paloma

Vaya con Dios

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Christmas Tunes

BoulevardierMerry Christmas everybody.  Pour yourself a drink, and enjoy.  Me, I'm nursing a Boulevardier.  It's a Negroni with cojones: swap out the gin for bourbon.  One ounce bourbon, one ounce sweet vermouth, one ounce Campari, straight up or on the rocks, with a twist of orange.  A serious libation.  The vermouth rosso contests the harshness of the bourbon, but then the Italian joins the fight on the side of the bourbon.  Or you  can think of it as a Manhattan wherein the Campari substitutes for the angostura bitters.  That there are people who don't like Campari shows that there is no hope for humanity.

Cheech and Chong, Santa Claus and His Old Lady
Canned Heat, Christmas Boogie

Leon Redbone and Dr. John, Frosty the Snowman
Beach Boys, Little St. Nick.  A rarely heard alternate version.

Ronettes, Sleigh Ride
Elvis Presley, Blue Christmas

Jeff Dunham, Jingle Bombs by Achmed the Terrorist.  TRIGGER WARNING! Not for the p.c.-whipped.

Porky Pig, Blue Christmas
Charles Brown, Please Come Home for Christmas

Wanda Jackson and the Continentals, Merry Christmas Baby
Chuck Berry, Run Rudolph Run

Eric Clapton, Cryin' Christmas Tears
Judy Collins, Silver Bells

Ry Cooder, Christmas in Southgate.  Don't miss this one if you are a Los Angeleno.  Great video.
Bob Dylan, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Who could possibly follow Dylan's growl except

Tom Waits, Silent Night.  Give it a chance. 

A surprising number of Christmas songs were written by Jews.  

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Politically Incorrect Tunes

No day without political incorrectness! And no night either.

But I suppose I should issue a TRIGGER WARNING to the 'safe space' girly-girls and pajama boys.  Do not click on any of these links!  I am not responsible  for your psychic meltdown.

Ray Stevens, Ahab the ArabHere is the original from 1962.  In the lyrics there are references to two hits from the same era, Chubby Checker's The Twist (1960) and Lonnie Donegan's British skiffle number  Does Your Chewing Gum Lose its Flavor?  On second thought, the reference is to Checker's Le't's Twist Again Like We Did Last Summer (1960).

Larry Verne, Mr. Custer (1960). "What am I doin' here?"

And now a trio of feminist anthems. Marcie Blaine, Bobby's Girl.  "And if I was Bobby's girl, what a faithful, thankful girl I'd be."  Carol Deene, Johnny Get Angry.   Joanie Sommers did it first.  "I want a cave man!"  Nice kazoo work.  k. d. lang's parody.  Little Peggy March, I Will Follow Him.  "From now until forever."

Meanwhile the guys were bragging of having a girl in every port of call.  Dion, The Wanderer (1961). Ricky Nelson, Travelin' Man. (1961)

Addendum:  I forgot to link to two Ray Stevens numbers that are sure to rankle the sorry sensibilities of  our liberal pals: Come to the USA, God Save Arizona.  If you are a liberal shithead do not click on these links!  But if  if you have any sense you will enjoy them.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Loneliness

There are so many songs under this rubric.  Here are some of the less sentimental and schmaltzy.

Love, Alone Again Or.  Yet another proof that in American popular music, no decade beats the '60s.

Simon and Garfunkel, The Boxer

Tom Waits, Better Off Without a Wife

Beatles, Eleanor Rigby

Harry Nilsson, One

It's not easy avoiding the sentimental.  But what, exactly, is wrong with sentiment?  Let's not pursue it.  To hell with Adorno.  It's Saturday night.  Time to feel, not think.

Floyd Cramer, Last Date

Linda Ronstadt, Faithless Love.  J. D. Souther wrote it.

John Fogerty, You're the Reason.  A crossover hit for Bobby Edwards in 1961.

I almost forgot the great Don Gibson

Sea of a Heartbreak

Oh Lonesome Me

Sweet Dreams.  Patsy Cline's version.  And while we have Patsy cued up:

She's Got You

Retreating from the sentimental to the surreal, another indisputable proof of the vast pop-music superiority of the '60s:

Bob Dylan, Visions of Johanna.  Marianne Faithfull's effort.  

Saturday Night at the Oldies: ‘Bill’ Songs

Jeff Hodges of Gypsy Scholar requests some tunes featuring the name 'Bill.'  Pickins are slim, so I'll broaden that out to include 'Willy,' 'Will,' 'Billy,' and William.  

Marvelettes, Don't Mess with Bill

Laura Nyro, Wedding Bell Blues.  "B-i-l-l, I love you so, I always will . . . ."

Crystals, Da Do Ron Ron.  "I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still/Somebody told me that his name was Bill . . . ."

Lonely Heartstring Band, Ramblin', Gamblin' Willy

Dylan wrote it (or adapted it, or co-opted it, or borrowed it, or stole it).

Clancy Bros. version with intro & context by Liam Clancy.  Includes Dylan's haunting "Restless Farewell" and the backstory to it as well.  A must see/hear for the true folk aficionado.

Woody Guthrie, Philadelphia Lawyer. "Wild Bill was a gun-totin' cowhand . . . ."

Bonnie Owens' and Merle Haggard's version

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Youth, Fast Cars, and Death

JamesWe are coming up on the 60th anniversary of the death of James Dean.  When the young  Dean crashed his low slung silver Porsche Spyder on a lonely California highway on September 30, 1955, he catapulted a couple of unknowns into the national spotlight.  One of them was Ernie Tripke, one of two California Highway Patrol officers who arrived at the scene.  He died  in 2010 at the age of 88.   But what ever happened to Donald Turnupseed, the driver who turned in front of the speeding Dean, having failed to see him coming?  His story is here. In exfoliation of the theme that "speed kills" I present the following for your listening pleasure:

Jan and Dean, Deadman's Curve (1964).  But it is not just boys who are drawn to speed, little old ladies have been known to put the pedal to the metal.  Case in point: The Little Old Lady From Pasadena.

Johnny Bond, Hot Rod Lincoln (1960)

James Dean, Public Service Announcement

James Dean, The 'Chicken' Scene

Beach Boys, Don't Worry Baby

Ike Turner/Jackie Brenston, Rocket 88 (1951).  The first R & R song?  With footage of Bettie Page.  'Footage' indeed.

Billy Joel, Only the Good Die Young

James_dean_died_here

Public Service Announcement.

Slow down, speed kills.  You'll die soon enough.   And stop tail-gating.  And turn off that bloody cell phone.  Or I kill you.

Like Aaachmed the Terrorist.  Trigger warning!  Not for liberals. 

 

 

 

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Go Carly!

Carly Fiorina is beginning to look good to me, politically speaking.  Let's see what we can scrounge up on the Carly/Carla/Carl/Karl/Karla theme.

Carly Simon, You're So Vain.  Good video. This one goes out to Donald Trump.  I like Trump and his cojones (metaphorically speaking), but a lack of gravitas condemns him.  Reagan had the right blend of cojones and gravitas:  "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!"

Ray Barretto, El Watusi (an old '60s number featured in Carlito's Way).  Don't ask me what it means.

Carl Wilson, I Can Hear Music

Karla Bonoff, When you Walk in the Room.  The old Jackie De Shannon tune from '64.  While we have Jackie cued up: Put a Little Love in Your Heart.

Carlos Santana, Black Magic Woman

Another reason to like Fiorina:

 

“I graduated from Stanford with a degree in medieval history and philosophy — there is life after a medieval history and philosophy degree,” she said happily.​ After graduation, Fiorina said, she was “completely unemployable” so she tried out law school.

 

“I was an obedient, goody two-shoes middle child,” she said of that decision, explaining that her parents wanted her to go. “Hated law school. Quit law school after one semester. And now my resume reads, ‘Medieval history and philosophy. Law school dropout.” Fiorina then went to work as a secretary. Six months in, two of her male colleagues saw her potential and asked if she wanted to learn the business.

 

“And still, in 2014, there is no other country on the face of the earth where a young woman can start out as a secretary and become CEO of the largest technology company,” she said.

 

This is where the politics comes in. “I’m a conservative because I think our policies unlock potential in people and I have seen too many lives and too many livelihoods sacrificed at the altar of liberal ideology and it happens all the time,” she said. Fiorina talked about the evils of bureaucracies and the virtues of entrepreneurship, education, jobs and freedom.