Lyrically Speaking: For the Turnstiles

  I'm not sure how I ended up with the album "Decade." I think I bought it from a used record store on one of the many excursions into Cambridge as a teen. My friends and I, or even sometimes me on my own, would drive into Harvard Square and spend hours walking the streets from used record store to used record store looking for cool albums or even just checking out the album covers... something today's teens probably don't get to experience. That album cover, with Neil's arms and head sticking out from his guitar case, is one of the classics.

  Sure, I had heard of Neil Young, and knew all his hits: "Hurricane," "Southern Man," etc. And of course had followed him into Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young territory. I think "Rust Never Sleeps" had just come out, which may have propeled me into a search for older, more obscure Neil. The best thing about "Decade" is that it isn't so much a greatest hits album as a look back at a young career, mixing the hits with cool songs that hadn't made the radio.
  When I first heard "For the Turnstiles," which was originally released on the album "On the Beach," it wasn't like anything I had heard before. Neil plucks out a haunting, almost sad bluegrassy melody on banjo and Ben Keith adds nifty Dobro over the pair's harmonizing. Being a big baseball fan, the lyrics "All the bushleague batters/Are left to die on the diamond/In the stands the home crowd scatters/For the turnstiles" really threw me as I tried to figure out what was going on.
  To this day, the sailors, the explorers and the ballplayers kind of haunt me. What is Neil trying to say? Here is one explanation, though I do not know its origin: The song was "inspired by the stadium tour he had just completed with Crosby, Stills & Nash. Mr. Young was clearly disturbed by the fact that big business was starting to take over rock and roll and art was suffering for commerce. The song foretells of the selling out of musicians and the forming of corporate rock."
  OK, I guess if you dig really deeply into the lyrics you can come up with that. I'd also say this is what's missing from Neil's music today... a little subtlety, mystery.
  In the past couple of years there have been some nifty covers of the song: The Be Good Tanyas do a great version on their album, "Hello Love" and Redbird recently released a slowed-down version on their album "Live at Cafe Carpe." Check them out.

For the Turnstiles
All the sailors
with their seasick mamas
Hear the sirens on the shore,
Singin' songs
for pimps with tailors
Who charge ten dollars
at the door.

You can really
learn a lot that way
It will change you
in the middle of the day.
Though your confidence
may be shattered,
It doesn't matter.

All the great explorers
Are now in granite laid,
Under white sheets
for the great unveiling
At the big parade.

You can really
learn a lot that way
It will change you
in the middle of the day.
Though your confidence
may be shattered,
It doesn't matter.

All the bushleague batters
Are left to die
on the diamond.
In the stands
the home crowd scatters
For the turnstiles,
For the turnstiles,
For the turnstiles.

A rare electric version by Neil in 2008

Lyrically Speaking: Charlie Darwin

With a new album, "Smart Flesh," ready to hit the streets on Feb. 22, I figured it would be nice to give some kudos to Low Anthem's surely most popular song from its 2009 album, "Oh My God Charlie Darwin." It's a song that despite how many times you hear it, it still sends chills down your spine.
  The Rhode Island band of Ben Knox Miller, Jeff Prystowsky and Jocie Adams provide some of the most beautiful high harmonies and ethereal moody instrumentation to back lyrics of a world in turmoil. Are they about the past or the present?: "And who could heed the words of Charlie Darwin/The lords of war just profit from decay/And trade their children's promise for the jingle/The way we trade our hard earned time for pay." Adams' sparse bowing of her instrument called a crotales as well as a beautiful clarinet solo adds to ghostly atmosphere of the tune.
  We can't wait to hear what the band has in store on the new album.

Charlie Darwin
Set the sails I feel the winds a'stirring
Toward the bright horizon set the way
Cast your wreckless dreams upon our Mayflower
Haven from the world and her decay

And who could heed the words of Charlie Darwin
Fighting for a system built to fail
Spooning water from their broken vessels
As far as I can see there is no land

Oh my god, the water's all around us
Oh my god, it's all around

And who could heed the words of Charlie Darwin
The lords of war just profit from decay
And trade their children's promise for the jingle
The way we trade our hard earned time for pay

Oh my god, the water's cold and shapeless
Oh my god, it's all around
Oh my god, life is cold and formless
Oh my god, it's all around

Lyrically Speaking: April the 14th, Part 1

Pity us poor Gillian Welch fans!  We keep tapping our toes, checking our watches, paging through our calendars waiting for the next album to drop. I mean, she's got plenty of time to help her partner David Rawlings put out a nifty album, fly 'cross country to Portland to sing back-up on nearly every song on the new Decemberists album... But she can't piece together enough songs over the past, whatever, seven years for her own new album? We've even heard some of the new songs -- "Throw Me a Rope," "Knuckleball Catcher" -- and we love them. So please, Gillian...
  In the meantime, here's an old song of hers I love.
  Off of the still-amazing "Time (The Revelator)" album, from 2001, "April the 14th, Part 1" is part history lesson, part story of a band on the run.
  Gillian details what she terms "Ruination Day," April 14th, a day in history that includes the Lincoln assassination (1865), the sinking of the Titanic (1912) and "Black Sunday," one of the worst Dust Bowl storms in Oklahoma (1935).
  Over haunting minor-chord acoustic guitars, the first lines of the song set the tone: "When the iceberg hit/Oh they must have known/God moves on the water/Like Casey Jones."
  Gillian sings about an anonymous young band playing a nowheresville Idaho festival presumably on that same grave April Day: "They looked sick and stoned/And strangely dressed/No one showed/From the local press."
  Is she comparing the band's experience to the date's other tragic events? The lyrics do read like a disaster: "And the girl passed out/In the backseat trash/There were no way they'd make/Even a half a tank of gas."
  The bleakness of the lyrics, sung in Gillian's aching yet beautiful voice meld beautifully with her strummed chords and Rawlings haunting plucked notes.
  A second part to the song, "Ruination Day, Part 2" is a two-minute, 37-second epilogue repeating the same disaster themes and bringing the whole thing to a close, counting down the miles, like counting down the years: "That's the day.../The day that is ruination day./They were one/They were two/They were three/They were four/They were five hundred miles from their home..."


April the 14th, Part 1
When the iceberg hit,
Oh they must have known,
God moves on the water
Like Casey Jones.

So I walked downtown
On my telephone,
And took a lazy turn
Through the redeye zone.

It was a five-band bill,
A two-dollar show.
I saw the van out in front
From Idaho,

And the girl passed out
In the backseat trash.
There were no way they'd make
Even a half a tank of gas.

They looked sick and stoned
And strangely dressed.
No one showed
From the local press.

But I watched them walk
Through the bottom land,
And I wished that I played
In a rock & roll band.

Hey, hey,
It was the fourteenth day of April.

Well they closed it down,
With the sails in rags.
And I swept up the fags
And the local mags.

I threw the plastic cups
In the plastic bags,
And the cooks cleaned the kitchen
With the staggers and the jags.

Ruination day,
And the sky was red.
I went back to work,
And back to bed.

And the iceberg broke,
And the Okies fled,
And the Great Emancipator
Took a bullet in the back of the head...

Lyrically Speaking: For No One

   It almost feels like cheating to pick a Beatles song for this feature.  I mean, just because everyone knows every note, every lyric by heart -- does that mean I shouldn't be able to share my thoughts? I say no.
  Yes, I could have pretty much picked any song from their epic discography, but "For No One," off of arguably the best Beatles album ever, "Revolver," is an amazing song.
  What gets me the is the depths of the heartache in each stanza: "She wakes up/ she makes up/ she takes her time and doesn't feel she has to hurry/ she no longer needs you." The horrible emptiness of a guy whose lover has psychologically left him.
  And the chorus -- "And in her eyes you see nothing/ no sign of love behind the tears cried for no one/ A love that should have lasted years" -- is broken-hearted poetry.
  The music too is sparse and sad, just Paul and Ringo on this cut. Paul reportedly plays a clavichord (a medieval stringed keyboard), as well as piano and bass. A French horn takes the solo, adding to the mood.
  From Wikipedia: McCartney recalls writing "For No One" in the bathroom of a ski resort in the Swiss Alps while on holiday with his then girlfriend Jane Asher. He said, "I suspect it was about another argument." (To read the whole entry, click HERE)
  For some reason, when I think of the Beatles and how they broke up in 1969, this song always comes to mind...


For No One
Your day breaks,
your mind aches,
you find that all her words of kindness linger on
when she no longer needs you.

She wakes up,
she makes up,
she takes her time and doesn't feel she has to hurry;
she no longer needs you.

And in her eyes you see nothing,
no sign of love behind the tears cried for no one.
A love that should have lasted years.

You want her
you need her,
and yet you don't believe her when she says her love is dead;
you think she needs you.

And in her eyes you see nothing,
no sign of love behind the tears cried for no one.
A love that should have lasted years.

You stay home,
she goes out,
she says that long ago she knew someone but now he's gone;
she doesn't need him.

Your day breaks,
your mind aches,
there will be times when all the things she said will fill your head;
you won't forget her.

And in her eyes you see nothing,
no sign of love behind the tears cried for no one.
A love that should have lasted years

Lyrically Speaking: Drunken Angel

Blaze Foley

   Some songs just grab you the moment you hear them. That's how I came to "Drunken Angel," one of Lucinda Williams' best songs. The tune, off her famously popular 1998 album "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road," is a tribute to Texas folk-blues singer Blaze Foley.  I had never heard of Foley before this song. Apparently he was some sort of Texas legend, and friend of another tragic folk hero, Townes Van Zandt. While Van Zandt's life and death is well-documented, Foley pretty much lived in obscurity and was shot dead in 1989 trying to help a friend defend himself.

  The greatness of this song is in the detail of Lucinda's lyrics. She captured the devotion of his fans and the self-destructiveness of his personality. Each stanza builds him up and knocks him down:  "Followers would cling to you/ Hang around just to meet you/ Some threw roses at your feet/ And watch you pass out on the street/ Drunken Angel."
   Her lyric "Some kind of savior singing the blues/ A derelict in your duct tape shoes," perfectly captures this antihero, who according to Wikipedia "had a love affair with duct tape. Initially he placed duct tape on the tips of his cowboy boots to mock the "Urban Cowboy" crazed folks with their silver tipped cowboy boots. This love of duct tape grew until he'd made a suit out of duct tape that he used to walk around in. At his funeral, his casket was coated with duct tape by his friends." (Click HERE to read the whole entry on Blaze Foley).
   Of course, Lucinda's sort-of slurred/sneered Texas accent and the added 12-string guitar sound completes the song.
  I never tire hearing it. I just don't know how you beat this line: "Blood spilled out from the hole in your heart/ Over the strings of your guitar/ The worn down places in the wood/ That once made you feel so good."

Drunken Angel
Sun came up it was another day
And the sun went down you were blown away
Why'd you let go of your guitar
Why'd you ever let it go that far
Drunken Angel

Could've held on to that long smooth neck
Let your hand remember every fret
Fingers touching each shiny string
But you let go of everything
Drunken Angel

Drunken Angel
You're on the other side
Drunken Angel
You're on the other side

Followers would cling to you
Hang around just to meet you
Some threw roses at your feet
And watch you pass out on the street
Drunken Angel

Feed you and pay off all your debts
Kiss your brow taste your sweat
Write about your soul your guts
Criticize you and wish you luck
Drunken Angel

Drunken Angel
You're on the other side
Drunken Angel
You're on the other side

Some kind of savior singing the blues
A derelict in your duct tape shoes
Your orphan clothes and your long dark hair
Looking like you didn't care
Drunken Angel

Blood spilled out from the hole in your heart
Over the strings of your guitar
The worn down places in the wood
That once made you feel so good
Druken Angel

Drunken Angel
You're on the other side
Drunken Angel
You're on the other side

Sun came up it was another day
And the sun went down you were blown away
Why'd you let go of your guitar
Why'd you ever let it go that far
Drunken Angel

Lucinda Williams performing "Drunken Angel"


Blaze Foley performing "Oval Room"

Lyrically Speaking: Mission in the Rain

  "Mission in the Rain" is my favorite Jerry-penned Grateful Dead song...
  That's how I was going to start this Lyrically Speaking entry. But I could just hear in my head Deadheads everywhere grumbling and huffing and puffing, and decided just to get the disclaimer* out of the way, right up top, to help ease their worried minds.
  So here it is:
   *"Mission" technically is not a Grateful Dead song, since it was recorded (on the album "Reflections") and mostly performed as Jerry's solo project the Jerry Garcia Band. And, technically, Garcia didn't write the lyrics -- they were penned by Robert Hunter, Garcia's songwriting partner.
So anyways, "Mission in the Rain" is my favorite Jerry-penned Grateful Dead song.
  I love the imagery -- a guy walking through a deserted part of the city at midnight thinking about his life and the choices he has made: "Ten years ago, I walked this street my dreams were riding tall/ Tonight I would be thankful Lord, for any dream at all/ Some folks would be happy just to have one dream come true/ But everything you gather is just more that you can lose." Wonderful.
  Though Hunter wrote the lyrics, Garcia has been quoted as saying, "it's autobiographical, though I didn't write it." Very Grateful Dead-esque. He actually sings the tune like he's lived it. You really feel the guy's pain, and yet the comfort he gets from his surroundings: "There’s some satisfaction in the San Francisco rain/No matter what comes down the Mission always looks the same."
  Hunter says he wrote the tune about his time that he lived in the Mission District in San Francisco in the '60s. The area apparently came alive with hookers and other creatures of the night after dark. (For more on the history of the song, click HERE).
  As stated in the disclaimer, the Dead only performed this song for a brief period, and I'm not sure why. All I know is that when it comes on my iPod, I turn it up real loud and sing every word -- with feeling.

Mission in the Rain
I turn and walk away then I come ‘round again
It looks as though tomorrow I’ll do pretty much the same.

I must turn down your offer but I’d like to ask a break
You know I’m ready to give everything for anything I take.

Someone called my name you know I turned around to see
It was midnight in the Mission and the bells were not for me.

Come again, walking along in the Mission in the rain,
Come again, walking along in the Mission in the rain,

Ten years ago, I walked this street my dreams were riding tall
Tonight I would be thankful Lord, for any dream at all.

Some folks would be happy just to have one dream come true
But everything you gather is just more that you can lose.

Come again, walking along in the Mission in the rain,
Come again, walking along in the Mission in the rain,

All the things I planned to do I only did half way
Tomorrow will be Sunday born of rainy Saturday.

There’s some satisfaction in the San Francisco rain
No matter what comes down the Mission always looks the same.

Come again, walking along in the Mission in the rain.

Jerry Garcia Band - 11/11/93

Lyrically Speaking: 2002

  A song's lyrics don't have to be overly poetic to be great. In fact, for me a story song, in which we can empathize with someone's situation or one that places us in a situation past or present, can be just as moving as one that delves deeply into artistic verbiage or clever wordplay. (The worst is one that is cliche, where we can guess the lyrics before the singer ever sings them.)
  Bob Schneider is probably known more as a singer or performer than as a songwriter, though I think he is quite good in that capacity. He has a kind of dual musical personality: He's got a raunchy, rockin', rappin' side and he's got an acoustic-based singer-songwriter side. He's an expert at balancing the two sides (though they don't necessarily mix on the same album).
  His song "2002," from his fantastic album "Lonelyland," deserves some recognition. It's him and an acoustic guitar and some really matter-of-fact, down-in-the-dumps lyrics of a guy who is missing is old girlfriend. He admits he's done some things wrong in his personal life, really is trying to get his life together but realizes it's pretty fruitless.
  The song is written as a letter to this woman telling her how his life has gone since their breakup. Sounds depressing? Yeah, well as he sings, "Doubt things are ever gonna get much better/It seems like life's one big whatever anyway."
  If you are not tearing up or feeling bad for the dude by the end of the song you have no heart.

2002
The year is two thousand & two
I'm doing exactly what I wanted to
And baby I don't even think about you anymore

Just thought I’d drop you a line
And let you know I was doing fine
Cause baby it's been a long long time
Since you walked out my door

It took me some time I must confess
For a while there I was feeling less than my best
Had to get out of town so I headed out west
Ended up in Seattle

I thought I’d start a brand new band
Thought I might call it Lonelyland
Things got a little out of hand
Ended up hooked on heroin

So I ended up moving back over to Germany
Living with the folks baggin' groceries
But the time I had was mostly free
Spent most of it drinking

I got myself in a jam or two
Guess it's what I had to do
But late at night I’d still think of you
Felt like I was drowning

'Til I met this girl at a discotheque
She was a dancer, baby, but not what you'd expect
She taught ballet and she was half-Czech half Chinese

But after she decided not to have the baby
Said she might move back to the mainland maybe
By then I didn't really care I was half drunk, half crazy

I got arrested but never convicted
My parents eventually had me evicted
Tried your number it had been disconnected
Guess I should’ve known

I heard you got married and you moved away
I called your folks but where they would not say
Said it's probably better that way so I just let it be

I moved back to Austin 'bout a year ago
Drive a schoolbus I don't drink no more
I go out every once in a while and see a show but mostly I just watch TV

So I don't know where I’m gonna send this letter
Doubt things are ever gonna get much better
It seems like life's one big whatever anyway

I just thought I’d drop you a line
Lie and say I was doing fine
'Cause baby it's been a long long time
Since you walked out my door

Here's a short explanation of the song from Schneider in an interview with Andy Holloway in the online magazine 5 on Sunday in 2009 (to read the whole interview, click HERE) :
Andy: Your song ‘2002’ is one of the most sincere and genuine offerings about tri­als and tribulations I have ever heard from a musician. Can you explain the time period that caused you to write this song?
Bob: I wrote the song in 1998 after a bad breakup and I was sitting in a room in Denver. I knew that I’d be feeling better in six months or a year and I was daydreaming about having some kind of remote control that I could fast-forward through the next few hard months of heartbreak. Any­way, I ended up writing the song in an hour or two and now people think that it’s autobiographical when in fact, it was what I imagined the next few years would be like at the time.

Bob Schneider on Austin City Limits:

Lyrically Speaking: Trouble

Little Feat is one of those bands that, in my opinion, doesn't get enough credit. Sure, they may not have really broken new ground, but they were solid -- both lyrically and in band musicianship. They sort of fit very comfortably between Allman-esque Southern rock, New Orleans boogie, funk, jazz and Grateful Dead-like jam band. Many of today's jam bands take stock in different musical influences the way Feat did. Lowell George, his life cut way too short, was a great lyricist and musician. His songs -- "Dixie Chicken," "Willin'," "Fat Man in the Bathtub," etc. -- are classics. The band of George, Bill Payne, Paul Barerre,  Fred Tackett, Kenny Gradney, Richie Hayward, and Sam Clayton were a juggernaut of sound and counted Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris, and Bonnie Raitt as FOB (friends of the band).
The song "Trouble," from 1972's "Sailin' Shoes," may not be their most famous, but is truly my favorite. It's certainly one of their most quiet tunes, sparse. It clocks in at a mere 2 minutes and 19 seconds.  But the lyrics offer up a guy who is totally overstressed and a reminder to just remain calm, take it easy and everything will be all right. I love this line, it calms me: "Well I'll write a letter, and I'll send it away

And put all the trouble in it you had today."

  Inara George, Lowell's daughter, covered the tune on a 2008 Little Feat tribute album called "Join the Band." I read an interview somewhere that though Lowell George died when she was only 5, her mother used to sing her this song at bedtime. Totally cool.

Trouble
You yelled hey when your car wouldn't start
So you got real nervous and started to eat your heart out
Now you're so fat your shoes don't fit on your feat
You got trouble
And it's tailor made
Well mama lay your head down in the shade

'Cause your eyes are tired, and your feat are too
And you wish the world was as tired as you, whoa
Well I'll write a letter, and I'll send it away
And put all the trouble in it you had today

Oh your telephone ring and you went "oh ho"
You forgot about this, and you forgot about that
'Cause you got to get back to what you doing
Goodbye, click that, so and so
You're an island and on your own

You yelled hey when the stove blew up
Upset? why yes
And the footprints on your ceiling, they're almost gone
And you're wondering why?
Well mama lay your head down, don't you cry


From 2009:


And this classic from 1977:

Lyrically Speaking: It Makes No Difference

  Earlier this morning when I was contemplating doing another Lyrically Speaking, "It Makes No Difference," by the Band popped into my head because of the sheer pain in the lost love of the words. When a song makes you feel something deeply -- pain, happiness, etc. -- you've got greatness.
  By sheer chance, today also just happens to be the 11-year anniversary of the death of Band bassist Rick Danko. While Rick didn't write the song (that would be Robbie Robertson, probably one of the most underappreciated American songwriters), he did sing it. His mournful voice, which he often stretched into registers I didn't think possible, perfectly projects the deep, deep loss of the lyrics. So RIP, Rick. We miss you.
  As for the lyrics, Robertson came up with some beauties. First of all, this song isn't written in standard verse, verse, chorus, bridge, verse. It sounds instead like it was written as if the person was just rambling through his sorrows, tears rolling down his cheeks. My favorite line: "Since you've gone it's a losing battle/Stampeding cattle/They rattle the walls." Stampeding cattle? Wow. This guy is really bad off!! And this line, another killer: "Well, I love you so much/It's all I can do/Just to keep myself from telling you/That I never felt so alone before." Yikes.
  Robertson is known for his story-songs -- "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down," "Get Up Jake," "Up on Cripple Creek" -- songs that sort of transport you to another place and time. But for me, this song just eats me up. "It Makes No Difference" is originally found on 1975's "Northern Lights - Southern Cross," but may be best heard in the Band's farewell concert "The Last Waltz" (see video below).
  Oh, one more note: If you like the Lyrically Speaking entries, you can easily find them by going to the Labels pulldown menu to the right, and look for "lyrically speaking."


It Makes No Difference
It makes no diff'rence where I turn
I can't get over you and the flame still burns
It makes no diff'rence, night or day
The shadow never seems to fade away

And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

Now there's no love
As true as the love
That dies untold
But the clouds never hung so low before

It makes no diff'rence how far I go
Like a scar the hurt will always show
It makes no diff'rence who I meet
They're just a face in the crowd
On a dead-end street
And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

These old love letters
Well, I just can't keep
'Cause like the gambler says
Read 'em and weep
And the dawn don't rescue me no more

Without your love I'm nothing at all
Like an empty hall it's a lonely fall
Since you've gone it's a losing battle
Stampeding cattle
They rattle the walls

And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

Well, I love you so much
It's all I can do
Just to keep myself from telling you
That I never felt so alone before

From "The Last Waltz"

Lyrically Speaking: Casimir Pulaski Day

  In a few days, I'll be publishing and posting my Favorites of 2010 issue of Modern Acoustic magazine, but until then I thought I'd offer up another in the series Lyrically Speaking, song lyrics that, to me, go beyond just words to a song.

  Sufjan Stevens is an odd cat. In concert he wears butterfly wings; early on, he wanted to make one album for each of the 50 states, etc. He has actually abandoned the idea (the states thing, not the wings!). But before he did, he released an album called Illinois, in which all the songs had some connection to the state. It's a pretty great album, with cuts -- many with long titles (like "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is out to Get Us!") -- that run the gamut from instrumental snippets to songs with sincere, heartfelt stories, all backed by his odd orchestra-like band. A song called "John Wayne Gacy Jr." tells the story of the '70s serial killer from Chicago and how we all have that instinct deep inside of us.
  As for our favorite song on the album, "Casimir Pulaski Day," is about a girlfriend who is diagnosed with cancer and passes away, presumably on Casimir Pulaski Day, a state holiday in Illinois. The lyrics are heartbreaking, as he remembers memories of their relationship and the pain of his loss: "Tuesday night at the bible study/We lift our hands and pray over your body/But nothing ever happens."
  The best lyrics are ones that move you, takes you into the author's world. When the music fits that mood, you have a great song. This is one.

Casimir Pulaski Day
Golden rod and the 4-H stone
The things I brought you
When I found out you had cancer of the bone

Your father cried on the telephone
And he drove his car to the Navy yard
Just to prove that he was sorry

In the morning through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading

Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications you could do without
When I kissed you on the mouth

Tuesday night at the bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens

I remember at Michael's house
In the living room when you kissed my neck
And I almost touched your blouse

In the morning at the top of the stairs
When your father found out what we did that night
And you told me you were scared

Oh the glory when you ran outside
With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied
And you told me not to follow you

Sunday night when I cleaned the house
I find the card where you wrote it out
With the pictures of your mother

On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing

Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window

Oh the glory when he took our place
But he took my shoulders and he shook my face
And he takes and he takes and he takes

A video of Casimir Pulaski Day

Lyrically Speaking: Burgundy Shoes

  To me, Patty Griffin is a vastly underappreciated singer and songwriter in popular music. Maybe the word popular is the problem. She is far outside the realm of the fans of Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and even to a majority of those who love, say, Bruce Springsteen. But those who know her and have really listened to her songs love her voice, one that can deliver beauty or a growl as needed. She was my first voice crush and continues to be to this day. Her album "Impossible Dream" is one of my top 5 albums of all time... yes, all time. Patty's lyrics capture the desperate, the needy, the redemptive. Love is usually just out of reach but not too far that hope is extinguished.

  One of my favorite songs is "Burgundy Shoes," from the album "Children Running Through." It's a tune she says was written after she was challenged by a friend to write a happy song. It captures a pleasurable memory of a bus trip with her mother when she was a young child, growing up in Maine. I just love the childlike details she captures in her description of that ride: "The bus driver smiles, a dime and a nickel/We climb on our seats, the vinyl is cold/"Michelle ma belle,"a song that you loved then/You hold my hand and sing to yourself."

"Burgundy Shoes"
We wait for the bus that's going to Bangor
In my plaid dress and burgundy shoes
In your red lipstick and lilac kerchief
You're the most pretty lady in the world
Sun

The bus driver smiles, a dime and a nickel
We climb on our seats, the vinyl is cold
"Michelle ma belle", a song that you loved then
You hold my hand and sing to yourself
Sun

The leaves are green and new like a baby
Tulips are red, now I don't miss the snow
It's the first day I don't wear my big boots
You hold my hand, I've got burgundy shoes
Sun

Lyrically speaking: Lantern

  Last week, I posted lyrics of Joni Mitchell's "Furry Sings the Blues," basically because I really dig the song. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought that it might be cool to ocasionally posted lyrics to songs and say a few words about why they rock my world. To be truthful, I'm not a huge lyric guy. Don't get me wrong, I love when a song makes sense, when an artist truly is inspired and puts words to things I could not dream of doing. But usually, it's the music that hits me first, then the lyrics. I will say that if the lyrics are crap, cliched or boring, forget it -- the song doesn't get much play by me.
 So here goes, my second in an occasional series of lyrics that kill me.

  Trying to pick one Josh Ritter tune to highlight the lyrics is like eating one potato chip. Near impossible. In fact, at the end of last year I declared his "Thin Blue Flame" as the song of the decade (still believe it so) and posted the lyrics because they are so brilliant.
  Anyway, here are the lyrics to his song "Lantern," off his newest album "So Runs the World Away."
Even without the music, this song reads like poetry.
  I mean, who else out there is writing lyrics like this: "Where the thistles eat the thorns/and the roses have no chance/and it ain't no wonder that the babies come out crying in advance/and the children look for shelter in the hollow of some lonesome cheek."
 The whole song is filled with brilliant, literate, and even profound insights into one man's need for love and understanding.

Josh Ritter, "Lantern"

Be the light of my lantern, the light of my lantern, be the light
be the light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight
be the light of my lantern, light of my lantern, be the light
I need light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight

It's a hungry world out there -- even the wind'll take a bite,
and I can feel the world circling, sniffing around me in the night
and the lost sheep grow teeth, forsake the lambs and lie with the lions

And the living is desperate, precarious and mean,
and getting by is so hard that even the rocks are picked clean
and the bones of small contention are the only food the hungry find

I'll need light from my lantern, light from my lantern tonight
light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight

Where the thistles eat the thorns, and the roses have no chance,
and it ain't no wonder that the babies come out crying in advance
and the children look for shelter in the hollow of some lonesome cheek

And the sky's so cold and clear the stars might stick you where you stand
and you're only glad it's dark cause you might see the Master's hand
you might cast around forever and never find the piece you seek.

I'll need light from my lantern, light from my lantern tonight.
Be the light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight

For every cry in the night, somebody says Have faith,
be content inside your questions -- minotaurs inside a maze.
Tell me what's the point of light that you have to strike a match to find?

So throw away those lamentations -- we both know them all too well;
if there's a book of jubiliations, we'll have to write it for ourselves,
so come and lie beside me, Darling, and let's write it while we've still got time

So if you've got a light, hold it high for me
I need it bad tonight, hold it high for me
'cause I'm face to face, hold it high for me
in a lonesome place, hold it high for me

With all the hurt that I've done, hold it high for me
that can't be undone, hold it high for me
light and guide me through, hold it high for me
I'll do the same for you, and hold it high for me

I'll hold it high for you 'cause I know you've got
'hold it high for you, your own valley to walk
I'll hold it high for you though it's dark as death
I'll hold it high for you and then gets darker yet

I'll hold it high for you though your past seems lost
I'll hold it high for you through the thieves and rocks
I'll hold it high for you, I'll keep you safe from harm
I'll hold it high for you, until you're back in my arms

Be the light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight
be the light of my lantern, the light of my lantern tonight
be the light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight
be the light of my lantern, light of my lantern tonight

This video is from Tarrytown, N.Y., where the crowd surprised Josh and the boys with glow sticks during the song. Check out the expressions on Zack's face and the fact that Josh had to basically stop and restart the opening lyrics because of the surprise. Classic.

Lyrically speaking: Furry Sings the Blues

Furry Lewis (from the Falstaff beer site)

This has always been one of my favorite songs by Joni Mitchell. The song written about bluesman Furry Lewis is amazing and the lyrics just brings him and Beale Street in Memphis alive.

Furry Sings the Blues from the album Hejira

Old Beale Street is coming down
Sweeties' Snack Bar, boarded up now
And Egles The Tailor and the Shine Boy's gone
Faded out with ragtime blues
Handy's cast in bronze
And he's standing in a little park
With a trumpet in his hand
Like he's listening back to the good old bands
And the click of high heeled shoes
Old Furry sings the blues
Propped up in his bed
With his dentures and his leg removed
And Ginny's there
For her kindness and Furry's beer
She's the old man's angel overseer

Pawn shops glitter like gold tooth caps
In the grey decay
They chew the last few dollars off
Old Beale Street's carcass
Carrion and mercy
Blue and silver sparkling drums
Cheap guitars, eye shades and guns
Aimed at the hot blood of being no one
Down and out in Memphis Tennessee
Old Furry sings the blues
You bring him smoke and drink and he'll play for you
lt's mostly muttering now and sideshow spiel
But there was one song he played
I could really feel

There's a double bill murder at the New Daisy
The old girl's silent across the street
She's silent - waiting for the wrecker's beat
Silent - staring ar her stolen name
Diamond boys and satin dolls
Bourbon laughter- ghosts - history falls
To parking lots and shopping malls
As they tear down old Beale Street
Old Furry sings the blues
He points a bony finger at you and
"I don't like you"
Everybody laughs as if it's the old man's standard joke
But it's true
We're only welcome for our drink and smoke

W.C. Handy I'm rich and I'm fay
And I'm not familiar with what you played
But I get such strong impressions of your hey day
Looking up and down old Beale Street
Ghosts of the darktown society
Come right out of the bricks at me
Like it's a Saturday night
They're in their finery
Dancing it up and making deals
Furry sings the blues
Why should I expect that old guy to give it to me true
Fallen to hard luck
And time and other thieves
While our limo is shining on his shanty street
Old Furry sings the blues

From the Shadows & Light tour in 1979