Dipping a Toe in The Gulf of Americana

 

I started this blog over two weeks ago and then managed to lose it all (fat finger syndrome), so re-started it, As with almost everything I do, it soon took on a different, and much longer, meandering path. It may be continued, although I think I've covered the main players in my Americana. (I might add more later).

Although no one in my family has ever played a musical instrument (I did try to play piano for a month, or so) I was brought up with music. I can’t remember how young I was when my mother taught me the words to ‘This Land is Your Land’, words that established my general political views well before I was 10! It was several years before I made the connection with Woodie Guthrie, who wrote the song.

I don’t intend to cover all the musical influences in my youth – I think I’ll write another post on The Everly Brothers, Adam Faith and the late 50’s/very early 60’s, if I can remember enough. Here I want to focus on a genre that has become important with age.

Through an elder brother, the arrival of Bob Dylan’s first LP in ’62 introduced me to a raw American folk to replace the more commercialised folk in his collection of The Kingston Trio, the Weavers, and Peter, Paul and Mary. The Clancy Brothers with Tommy Maken in their Aran sweaters, seemed to sum up the influence of commercialism; I have since revisited them all with more wisdom. But Dylan - talk about “blowing the bloody doors off”! The music, together with an introduction to ‘alternative’ literature*, hit me as strongly as testosterone did. I saw the world ‘differently’ and probably became a pain in the butt for my parents for some years, whose ‘liberal’ views appeared to come through a relaxed wealth rather than conviction.

* I had moved from Dracula to Camus and Genet. 

Then a couple of years later, there were The Stones and the blues-orientated rock, which was my preference, although I had time enough for the ‘Liverpool Sound’ and soon afterwards I met Pauline, with whom I did buy Beatles LPs.

Blues Influence and Change of Direction 

Back to the influence of Dylan and Guthrie: I started picking up bits and pieces of American music, from ‘Cisco Houston, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot through to the blues of Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. I even traced back to Blind Lemon Jefferson and  Robert Johnson’s Cross Road Blues as well as Champion Jack Dupree, all of which cemented an interest in blues, rather than rock. At that time the UK music scene was exploding, but again that isn’t what this piece is about, so I’m even zipping past John Mayall.

From the late ‘60s rock and pop music became a widespread cultural force throughout the world. With our move to Germany in early ’77, the music we were exposed to was mainly that supplied by American Forces Network (AFN). I did get to some interesting gigs in the UK just before we left and on returns, but again, they’re for another time.

By the time we returned to the UK, pop music had gone somewhere that didn’t interest me (there may be the odd exception) and I was using the Britannia Music Club to find out more about classical music – it was a wonderland, and I’ve never looked back! 

Actions Speaking Louder Than Words

Then there’s a memory gap – these were tumultuous years of house buying, moving, of deaths in the family, jobs found, and jobs lost and a new career being forged. So, I’m not sure where the influence came from, but the old interests started to return, and Americana appeared … I recall being familiar enough with Cajun music that I was stomping to it in a Glasgow pub in ’93.

In ’94 I bought ‘The Pearl’ by Phil Cunningham and Aly Bain who we saw sometime at the Gulbenkian, Canterbury (a theatre that also provided us with an evening of Stephan Grappelli). I have to admit that despite Phil Cunningham’s ability, I never could really get on with his style of accordion playing, it is just too mellifluous, but the connection with Aly Bain was important as in 1995, The Transatlantic Sessions started, and the door was opened to wider Americana.

The people featured below, except for Iris DeMent, are all dead, before their time. 

Iris DeMent 

From The Transatlantic Sessions I took Iris DeMent, a singer with a unique voice, to heart. ‘Our Town’ closed the final series of ‘Northern Exposure’ and, even more powerfully, she sang the Carter Burwell song at the end of the Coen Brothers excellent version of ‘True Grit’. Singing quite a lot of gospel, she can test my atheist patience but ‘When My Mornin’ Comes Around’ has an extremely powerful sentiment for me, and ‘Easy’s Getting’ Harder Every Day’ is very evocative of a poor woman’s existence in the Midwest.

Iris DeMent, John Prine and Nanci Griffith 

A lighter side of Iris DeMent is here with the John Prine - 'In Spite Of Ourselves'. John Prine was regarded highly for his song writing and 'Paradise' from his first album (1971!) harks back to the style of Woody. He also sang about Vietnam vets ...'Sam Stone'. Among his songs is one sung with Nanci Griffith - 'Speed of The Sound of Loneliness'. I knew of Nanci from Transatlantic Sessions and was lucky enough to see her in 2012 (she was a little croaky, she had been having treatment for thyroid cancer). She wrote lovingly of the smell of a Woolworth’s Store when visiting London!

Nanci Griffith, Townes Van Zandt, Kate Wolf

 It was looking at the writers of songs that increased my contact with Americana. ‘The Cowboy’s Lament’ was slightly different. Featured on Nanci’s album 'Other Voices, Other Rooms' it had Don Edwards yodelling and following his name, I took a little trip into cowboy music (but not ‘Home On The Range’ which seems to run counter to ‘This Land is Your Land’, especially in John Lomax’s ’red man’ version). Another writer on Nanci's album was Townes Van Zandt and 'Tecumseh Valley' stood out. Townes was a very talented songwriter, who lived a troubled existence. One of his best known songs is 'Pancho and Lefty' but 'Nothin'' seems to sum up an inner melancholy. Another writer I discovered through Nanci Griffith was Kate Wolf - here 'Across The Great Divide' sung by Nanci and Emylou Harris. Kate Wolf wrote some great songs. One, perhaps bookending John Prine's 'Paradise' is 'Old Jerome'.

Remembrance 

There are two songs of Kate's that have special meaning for me. They date from when I was caring for Barbara. The more poignant, which came on purely at random while I was driving home from her funeral was 'Shadow of a Life'. It was and remains my farewell to Barbara.

The last concert I saw with Pauline was Sharon Shannon at Colchester, so here's Sharon playing with John Prine and Mary Staunton singing one of John's songs 'Love, Love, Love' - my burn scars proudly define me.

(Apologies to anyone mad enough to read this for any grammar, link errors etc. they'll be corrected later, but I have dresses to pack!)