A 357. snub nose, a 45. peacemaker & a Tyroler Hut
and another because I love this guy
I was going to try to do a straight chronology of some of my favorites when I realized that it is simply quite impossible. Well probably not impossible, but beyond me at the moment and certainly it would tax the patience of even the most devoted followers of this blog. Because we come to the question of getting down what I like, what I was raised with, and what is considered country music orthodoxy. All three of those things weigh heavily on my mind as they are so closely aligned. So we proceed full well acknowledging that we'll leave some excellent artists out of the equation. Take these as acts of omission, not comission please.
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My dad always liked this song
For a long time I didn't believe that anything new could be quality. All the good country had already been performed and all that was left Christian rock with cowboy hats owned by lawyers.For the longest time I didn't believe that there was any new country worth listening to. I was wrong, there is. I suppose part of the problem is the fragmentation of the industry. As Malcolm once noted even George Strait is now labelled "commercial country". I wouldn't disagree, but I've got some respect for George, even if I wouldn't dream of buying anything from him. For starters there's country, bluegrass, old-timey, gospel and traditional. Deciding which fits into which can be troubling at the best of times. Let alone in the age of retro and alt. sub genres. So leaving aside confusing titles which no one but record store clerks and internet junkies care about I consider anything that I consider good, as plain and simple "country"
So while I'm finally warming up to the idea that not everything that comes out is pure crap (although 99% of shit out of Nashville is) I'm still mainly moved by the old standards. And I was thinking about that this weekend when the family was sitting around the table for lunch and my Dad was eating green onions and listening to the aforementioned Mule Skinner Blues. He then relayed to us how that took him back to his youth in rural Kansas where his grandfather had a big swinging chair and a onion patch where they would spend summer evenings swinging, eating green onions and listening to the music. And I suppose that's what country is to me as well.
Music and memory hold a special place in my heart and I think about them both fairly often. Iris Dement did a great song called Mama's Opry which tackles the exact same thing. The enabling has been disabled, but the link is well worth checking out. Music and memory aren't always positive things, but powerful never the less. Guy Clark wrote a song about his grandmother's boyfriend who showed him the way of the world in rural Texas during his boyhood/early manhood. Jerry Jeff Walker (who wrote Mr. Bojangles) later had a minor hit with it. Guy is the first man singing, Jerry Jeff is the guy with the cowboy hat.
My father was always reflective about this song. When asked why, he answered that as a young man he used to have to drive his father around to the bars in LoDo (an old ghetto now gentrified beyond belief). One of the bars he used to take his his dad to was called "The Green Frog Cafe". Far from being "one of the heroes of this country" the song reminds my dad of his father's alcoholism.
Though this is simplistic of course as my grandfather was "one of the heroes of this country" for his service in the Second World War, serving with distinction with the United States Marine Corps throughout the Pacific campaign. He never talked about his time in the Corps to his children. After his death a one of his comrades filled my father in on some things and my dad overheard a conversation once between my grandfather and the aforementioned member of his unit who survived the war with him. Their unit suffered 98% casualties from the beginning of the war, meaning that my grandfather and his friend were the sole surviving members of the original unit with the rest of the unit being made up of replacements. He had been in training to become a Baptist minister before the war, but found himself unable to continue after. He was a combat engineer during the war, demoted twice for fighting. It was left to him and his units to clear and seal the caves with flame throwers and dynamite (amongst many other tasks, because as we all know, "Every Marine is a rifleman first"). Forty years before vegetarianism came into fashion my grandfather refused to eat meat because he couldn't stop himself from wretching at the smell of searing flesh. Imagine how well that went over in Garden City, Kansas (Seriously, read Omnivores Dilemma as it's the only time you'll ever read about Garden City, Kansas in popular print).
And that is country music in a nutshell. Stories within stories. What I just related was one story amongst three generations of the same family that gives a deeper meaning to one good song.
One story leads to another as two albums that were formative during my youth were Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's Stars and Stripes Forever, and Willie Nelson Super Hits. SSF was the first album I heard Mr. Bojangles off of and learned what it was to be a "cosmic cowboy"
Upon reflection the only reason that the "This Weekend I'll be Listening To..." has gained any traction is that it has been a constant and allowed the readership to form a larger picture of WBS's preferences and tastes. Because as Oliver Sacks has shown, each person is different when it comes to what floats one's boat when it comes to music. For me that's country music. Not just the classic kind, though that's how I was raised and it remains the bar by which I new country. I'm a Johnny Cash man myself, my brother is a Waylon man, my father's more of a Roy Acuff kind of guy (who loves the fact that I have Bill Monroe doing Mule Skinner Blues on my iPod) and my mom can't stand any of it. My wife tolerates it and my kid loves it when I sing him Ed Bruce (or at least I think so).
We start with Jimmy.
We start with Jimmy.
and another because I love this guy
I was going to try to do a straight chronology of some of my favorites when I realized that it is simply quite impossible. Well probably not impossible, but beyond me at the moment and certainly it would tax the patience of even the most devoted followers of this blog. Because we come to the question of getting down what I like, what I was raised with, and what is considered country music orthodoxy. All three of those things weigh heavily on my mind as they are so closely aligned. So we proceed full well acknowledging that we'll leave some excellent artists out of the equation. Take these as acts of omission, not comission please.
____________________________________________
My dad always liked this song
For a long time I didn't believe that anything new could be quality. All the good country had already been performed and all that was left Christian rock with cowboy hats owned by lawyers.For the longest time I didn't believe that there was any new country worth listening to. I was wrong, there is. I suppose part of the problem is the fragmentation of the industry. As Malcolm once noted even George Strait is now labelled "commercial country". I wouldn't disagree, but I've got some respect for George, even if I wouldn't dream of buying anything from him. For starters there's country, bluegrass, old-timey, gospel and traditional. Deciding which fits into which can be troubling at the best of times. Let alone in the age of retro and alt. sub genres. So leaving aside confusing titles which no one but record store clerks and internet junkies care about I consider anything that I consider good, as plain and simple "country"
Of course it was Johnny Cash who showed me that wasn't the case after he signed with American recordings and produced multiple albums that I loved. Certainly the one most poweful songs was "Hurt" which to be honest, knocked me off of my feet and is one of the rare times I'll give a cover a higher rating than the original.
So while I'm finally warming up to the idea that not everything that comes out is pure crap (although 99% of shit out of Nashville is) I'm still mainly moved by the old standards. And I was thinking about that this weekend when the family was sitting around the table for lunch and my Dad was eating green onions and listening to the aforementioned Mule Skinner Blues. He then relayed to us how that took him back to his youth in rural Kansas where his grandfather had a big swinging chair and a onion patch where they would spend summer evenings swinging, eating green onions and listening to the music. And I suppose that's what country is to me as well.
Music and memory hold a special place in my heart and I think about them both fairly often. Iris Dement did a great song called Mama's Opry which tackles the exact same thing. The enabling has been disabled, but the link is well worth checking out. Music and memory aren't always positive things, but powerful never the less. Guy Clark wrote a song about his grandmother's boyfriend who showed him the way of the world in rural Texas during his boyhood/early manhood. Jerry Jeff Walker (who wrote Mr. Bojangles) later had a minor hit with it. Guy is the first man singing, Jerry Jeff is the guy with the cowboy hat.
My father was always reflective about this song. When asked why, he answered that as a young man he used to have to drive his father around to the bars in LoDo (an old ghetto now gentrified beyond belief). One of the bars he used to take his his dad to was called "The Green Frog Cafe". Far from being "one of the heroes of this country" the song reminds my dad of his father's alcoholism.
Though this is simplistic of course as my grandfather was "one of the heroes of this country" for his service in the Second World War, serving with distinction with the United States Marine Corps throughout the Pacific campaign. He never talked about his time in the Corps to his children. After his death a one of his comrades filled my father in on some things and my dad overheard a conversation once between my grandfather and the aforementioned member of his unit who survived the war with him. Their unit suffered 98% casualties from the beginning of the war, meaning that my grandfather and his friend were the sole surviving members of the original unit with the rest of the unit being made up of replacements. He had been in training to become a Baptist minister before the war, but found himself unable to continue after. He was a combat engineer during the war, demoted twice for fighting. It was left to him and his units to clear and seal the caves with flame throwers and dynamite (amongst many other tasks, because as we all know, "Every Marine is a rifleman first"). Forty years before vegetarianism came into fashion my grandfather refused to eat meat because he couldn't stop himself from wretching at the smell of searing flesh. Imagine how well that went over in Garden City, Kansas (Seriously, read Omnivores Dilemma as it's the only time you'll ever read about Garden City, Kansas in popular print).
And that is country music in a nutshell. Stories within stories. What I just related was one story amongst three generations of the same family that gives a deeper meaning to one good song.
One story leads to another as two albums that were formative during my youth were Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's Stars and Stripes Forever, and Willie Nelson Super Hits. SSF was the first album I heard Mr. Bojangles off of and learned what it was to be a "cosmic cowboy"
And though I've mentioned being a little gonzo before I thought illuminating it a bit would help. To help us with is a very gonzo country singer, Ray Wylie Hubbard who wrote L.A. Freeway and Up Against the Wall Redneck Mother amongst others (he has a new album out) to explain the origins of Up Against the Wall Redneck Mother and a performance from the seventies which differ significantly from the latter performances where one might misconstrue the roles.
And of course we all know to thank Bob Wills for the horn section.
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Next up, talking 'bout my generation.
PS
Now please nobody comment on the fact that I left out Hank Williams, Willie Nelson, Merle, Don Williams etc. Because trust me they haven't been forgotton and that's leaving out the singing cowboy tradition of Roy Rogers and Gene Autrey. Just saying his thing is long enough as it is...Though obviously feel free to throw in your country favortites.
PS
Okay I just had to throw a few more in here. What dan I say other than I love watching these tunes.
This is a badly recorded cover but I feel that it somehow adds to the gravity of the song.
"the richer got richer and the poor got poorer and to me it didn't seem right" amen brother
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