A Tale of Two Albums

Otis Blue is really the tale of two albums, one of rocking upbeat soul/pop numbers countered by blues/soul songs offsetting one another in what I would call almost the perfect album. This should come as no surprise to students of soul but may surprise some of the "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay" crowd. This album simultaneously contains a cover that I feel is more powerful than the original and an original that later became famous as a cover (and for many more poignant for many).

A Change is Gonna Come

I know there are those who may be under the impression that Sam Cooke was a little too pop and too little soul. I would refer these ignorant individuals to Live at the Harlem Square Club. This album I feel even outshines James Brown, Live at the Apollo (though since I've always felt Brown was over rated this doesn't account for too much).

Cooke pinned "A Change is Gonna Come" after personal experiences with Civil rights activists and listening to a Bob Dylan song. The final stanza of Cooke's song is cautiously hopeful reflecting the guarded optimism the times really were changing for the better.

There were times when I thought I couldn't last for long, But now I think I'm able to carry on It's been a long, been a long time coming But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will.

Contrast this with the Otis Redding version recorded within two years of the original, in which he radically adapts the final stanza.

There was a time that I thought, Lord this couldn't last very long, somehow I thought I still able, to try to carry on. Its been a long, long, long time coming, but I know a change has gotta come.Its been so long, its been so long, I've lived too long but a change has gotta come,So tired, so tired of standing by myself and standing up alone, but a change has gotta come. You know and I know, that a change is gonna come.

This is a much darker take on Cooke's tune which does not prophesize that a change will come but that it has to. To me this more accurately reflects the outcome of the civil rights movement with its limited objectives and goals. Toward the end Reverend King came to a more overarching vision than that of the original movement. It is ironic that a man whose life was ended due to the fact that he supported an AFSCME strike has led to the likes of Condaleeza Rice and the parody that is the Reverend Al Sharpton.

That is a tragedy. The American Civil Rights movement really was a march for human dignity. It was a march that faltered and at times found its way frustrated by ignorance and hatred. But it did not waver in its commitment to what it knew to be right. Unfortunately that march was never completed. Like so many movements before and since it found that the new world it hoped to birth to be still born. So it settled for diluted reform and the trappings of success.

_______________________________

Otis Blue contained Redding's biggest hit until the post humous release of "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay". While that song has ensured his place in music history it has also helped to obscure what some of us consider to be his true works of art. All three of his covers on this albums (the others being "What a Wonderful World" and "Shake") are excellent. This shows a real growth from a less than stellar "You Send Me" on his earlier "Pain in My Heart" album released early in 1964.

Soul later succumbed to over orchestration as shown by the likes the Marvin Gaye album "What's Going On". There can be no doubt this album attempted to deal with the issues that existed under the waning star of the Civil Rights Movement. Otis Redding's third album demonstrates why that approach was folly. His throaty delivery adds new depth and dimension to classic soul tunes as well as pop standards. Readers are actively encouraged to pick up this album.

Hold the Fort...

Okay so it's been a hectic week. Union meetings, middle/high school/college friends visiting and me being forced to eat tofu and listen to academics wax polemical about the working class struggle. Seriously, the second time I met these people they were calling me their "good friend" and practicing the polite art of conversation while not saying a damn thing. The truth is that I can count my friends one two hands and my good friends on one hand. Incidentally one of them is now staying in Delta via the courtesy of the state. It was well that I had only two beers the whole evening or there might have been trouble.

Continuing quickly on the labor theme established last time I am faced with a personal quandary that I was berating a business rep. about this week. I freely acknowledge that the local wages, benefits, and conditions will most likely improve due the "merger" with Kansas City. Note that despite encompassing more than five states it's still "Kansas City District Council" even though Kansas City has half the population Denver has. My issues are with how Kansas City gets the job done. From my observations it seems to be a mix of old school Teamster's thuggery combined with some back wood colloquialisms. I was initially and remain unreconciled with the new order. Now admittedly the reason that I was reconciled with the old order was because it was a dying breed of non super councils. The irony of course that I was held up this week by the very same business rep. as a model union member.

This blog has struggled with trying to juggle personal/political/cultural posts. I have many drafts that have never been finished and left to collect cyber dust. Many of my posts are fairly amatuerish in nature, then again, so am I. I would like to tackle some of the issues raised by Pete Baker and Fintan O'Toole over on Slugger as a personal follow up on one of my earlier posts. Hopefully I'll be able to get to it this weekend, but fishing and tiling my parents house will have to come first.

Okay, talk to you all this weekend, hopefully.

I Washed My Face In The Morning Dew

Last week laying out an access panel in the governor's ceiling I was thinking about Malcolm's post awhile ago. I was also caught up in thinking about SS's post which I quoted in my last post. This kind of thing is nothing new to me. When I used to work nights on the highway I would infuriate the boom truck driver by getting lost in thought while we were hanging signs at the intersections (but he was an asshole so it was okay). It's odd that though regardless of whether I blog these thoughts they are still in my head (which is actually why I blog, to get them out). I was trying to explain to my grandma after I got posted on Slugger what it was all about. Her reply was to shake her head, wave her hands at and to tell me, "you think too much" (though she's right on that one).

The point being that while I'm extremely difficult to satisfy on one level (just ask my political director) I'm very easy to make happy. Such happiness was achieved this weekend after a visit to the future in-laws in Cripple Creek. A cold Budweiser in the can and a decent cigar go along way to making me a content man. Throw in my fiance, a nice fire and the natural beauty that is Colorado to do the rest. We all know that many song writers have written about the majestic beauty in the state here and here, not to mention songs of a more regional variety.

At times it is tempting to let it go at that but this weekend I was reminded of the absolutely astonishing and humbling beauty that is Colorado. After a thunderstorm I went out on the back porch to finish my beer and smoke my after dinner cigar. While standing under the awning I was near enough to the bird feeder to be able to reach and touch (had I had the urge to) the numerous humming birds that were fighting over who would get to feed at that particular bird feeder. I vacillated between staring at them and gazing at nothing in particular in the green aspen grove surrounding the house while enjoying the scent of a fresh rain.

Today as I drove back through town on the way home I was reminded of why "Misanthropy" is the leading word of this blog. It is not necessarily an H.L. Mencken misanthropy, but a latter day Joseph Roth misanthropy.

Recently a post over at Cedar Lounge brought me back to my roots so to speak. I was originally and will continue to be a labor man. So as I drove through Cripple Creek with that post fresh in my head it saddened me to see that casinos lined the streets and that the biggest event that weekend was the county fair (ie a 4H booster). Not that I have anything in particular against 4H, but anyone who has spent any amount of time shovelling bovine shit by the truck full will be necessarily wary of any kind of agrarian organization.

Actually what had set this train of thought off was a dinner for my aunt when we finally brought her pictures from my European trip in December/January (which actually gave me the title of this blog). One of the pictures was of the quotes on the James Larkin statue.

And Tyranny trampled them in Dublin's gutter

Until Jim Larkin came along and cried

The call of Freedom and the call of Pride

And Slavery crept to its hands and knees

And Nineteen Thirteen cheered from out the utter

Degradation of their miseries.

Now my aunt is not what I would call a pro-union person. This is because at the phone company (where my whole family worked) a union official told her she made too much money for a woman. At which point she moved virulently to the other end of the labor spectrum. Though after reading the quotes she was, never the less moved. I too was moved because truer words were never spoken. I remain firm in my belief that the cause of labor is the hope of humanity. This is in spite of today's unions and numerous "Labor" parties that exist throughout the world.

For us there must be more than Project Labor Agreements, wages, benefits and a good ole boy club to which we can join. There must be an over arching movement that seeks to raise the bar for humanity that we may all enjoy the fruits of liberty and freedom and dignity. Not in some shallow sense about donning a uniform and going over seas, but in our own homes and communities, where we have sunk our roots. This is cliche but true. This is the cause of labor, the elevation of men from expendable machines and cost codes into fully formed beings capable of not only seizing their destiny but of shaping the course of history through their determination not to be bought off or intimidated in their quest for a more just humanity. I'm ranting I know, but this is what motivates me to pay unions dues, not my wages or benefits (which suck thank you very much).

Well it's late and 4:00am will come all too shortly. For anyone more interested in the roots of my mania, I recommend as a starting point this piece as well as these various books. Again as a starting point.