Monday, January 06, 2025

1960s, Dylan, folk music & me ...


I haven't even seen the A Complete Unknown Dylan-goes-electric movie yet, but Facebook discussions around it and conversations online with 1960s music scene survivors have really sent me down a week-long memory search and musical rabbit hole. 

For one of those conversations, I  assembled this still life photograph. I couldn't believe that (purchased new, when $1.95 was a non-trivial sum for a high school kid) the 1963 M. Witmark and Sons portfolio of songs from Dylan's second album came with *piano* arrangements, with little chord diagrams for guitar players. I also have the similar volume for his third album.

 Guitarists reading this will be charmed to learn that book gave the guitar chords for playing "Blowin' in the Wind" in the key of E-flat -- without a capo. "Girl of the North Country" was in A-flat. ( I still have never mastered the D-flat chord fingering it suggested, although the E flat 7th fingering has come in handy, pushed up a half step.) In any case, these were not keys I could play or sing in, so the book was a fine education in chord transposition. 

However, "With God on Our Side" was presented in the key of C, and I see pencil notes indicating that 16-year-old me was figuring out the harmonica solo! Unfortunately, or fortunately, my voice couldn't hit the high note in that one, which may be why I backed off on the idea of singing it in a 1964 or 5 "hootenanny" at my (Catholic) high school. Or maybe I was just chicken. I did sing Jesse Fuller's San Francisco Bay Blues with the guitar and the harmonica, and the MC introduced me saying I sounded "something like Bob Dylan, but that's not a bad thing." Actually, I don't think he had never heard me sing or play; he was just judging by the hardware.

Thanks to Jeannie Brand-Derienzo, another Facebook friend, for sending me that mint copy of her dad's instruction book, which was where I started learning to play the guitar. I think I traded away my original copy, and my first guitar, for my first banjo -- while I was still in high school. I still have an LP of Oscar Brand singing historical satirical songs like, "A dollar ain't a dollar anymore," which I ought to refresh my memory of. (I'm using a blogger app on a Samsung phone to post this, and can't figure out how to embed a YouTube copy of the song, but I can at least link to it. Great sing along chorus, feel free to join in while you read the rest of this.)


The banjo hung on the wall for a dozen years before I took learning it seriously. And then I acquired my first mandolin at Pinewoods Camp, Inc. where I went to take banjo lessons from Paul Brown! I think that was 1978. He played more fiddle in the next class I took with him, which was in 2015 at the Augusta Heritage Workshops in Elkins, West Virginia. (We had a lot of catching up to do come including two journalism careers, his with NPR, mine with newspapers and magazines.)

 I emphasized Paul in the Facebook post that this longer note is partly copied and pasted from, because he and I have a lot of mutual Facebook friends. And his banjo class really was great, but folksong classes with older singers I admired, my first Appalachian clogging class, and meeting lots of new dance partners were also part of the motivation for going to Pinewoods. 

Dance partners, especially. Come to think of it, "You'll love it; it's like Club Med in the woods," was a friend's motivating line that did not appear in the Country Dance and Song Society brochures. CDSS was and is a great dance and music community, and I did try commuting from Hartford to New York on Amtrak for most of a year to keep seeing someone I met at Pinewoods, but the music pulled me in another direction -- grad school in anthropology and ethnomusicology, which I had already started at the rate of a course a semester.. 

I'd been at the Hartford Courant for 11 years, and it was year the paper was sold to a chain, so I cashed in my employee stock and finished off my studies with a research trip to Ireland. To learn some jigs and reels, and a company John Prine songs in the pub, I carried along that mandolin I'd bought at Pinewoods from a great guitar player named John Pearse. It was an old Martin with a broken side he had repaired while working for the Martin guitar company. (He left to found his own company, making guitar strings among other things until his death. I still use the strings with his picture on the package. I kept that mandolin for 40 years before selling it to a friend who still plays it on stage and at jam sessions here in Southwestern Virginia. 

Unlike Dylan, I did not take to songwriting or get very good at singing or entertaining audiences, or ever get to play on stage at the Newport Folk Festival.  But, ironically, after I stumbled back into journalism, I did wind up on stage at Newport once, in the early 1990s. I was there taking pictures of my favorite harmony-singing trio, The Roches, trying to find a photo angle that would put enough  Newport harbor boats in the background to convince the editor of Soundings, a boating magazine, to put the picture on the cover, along with my article about "boats and music." Her reply, "Nope, boats have to be in the foreground on the cover." 

But the article and a few pictures did run inside the magazine, and living in a waterfront town briefly landed me and that old mandolin in a sea chantey singing group (Cliff Haslam & the Jovial Crew) that did play at the Mystic Sea Music Festival once before I went off to grad school again... which in a  roundabout way brought me here to Southwestern Virginia, retired from teaching journalism, and playing old time music at jam sessions and dances.

No wonder my house and brain are so cluttered with instruments and the musical memories sampled in that photograph. By the way, only the Burl Ives book and the 1940ish Kay mandolin in that picture were acquired "second-hand," but it is all secondhand music, full of memories and history, and that's what I like about it.


Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Tiple and mandolin, together at last

I don't think I''ve stumbled on these recordings earlier in my searches for players of the 10-string Martin-style tiple... The Georgia Melody Boys of the 1920s (also identified as the Golden Melody Boys at Discogs and one of the links below, a case of using different names for different record labels, perhaps) are fairly new to me, but I'm glad that 78 RPM record collectors have preserved some of their recordings.. and even put them on youtube.

Goin' to have 'lasses in the morning (an Old Dan Tucker variation?):
https://youtu.be/-yaSvXgBCoE?si=JLCAaZC60UjeUted

When the Goldenrod is Blooming Once Again:

Discogs identifies the singers and players as Phil Featherstone on mandolin and sometimes harmonica, and Dempsey Jones on tiple, and as writer of their two-part dialog, "Uncle Abner and Elmer at the Rehearsal." 

I hope to find less scratchy transcriptions somewhere, but from what I can tell listening to these, the duet neatly illustrates my feelings about the two instruments... that the mandolin is better suited to melody playing while the Tiple works best as a rhythm-chord instrument, given its doubled and tripled strings and ukulele tuning. 

(Played at the same fret, the three lowest pitched double and triple-string courses make a major chord, the three highest pitched make a minor chord. Sliding those positions up or down the neck can be very satisfying.)

Since a ukulele playing friend of mine is learning the mandolin, and I have mandolins, ukes and a Tiple, maybe we can work up such a duet. 

Reminder to self: Put new strings on the tiple!  When the steel string bronze windings wear out, leaving little gaps, those nice sliding chords you hear on this recording slice through the calluses on my favorite left hand fingertips and can leave behind little splinters of bronze wire. Ouch!

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

Almost 1,374 hours in the kitchen making "Smiles" and other great music

Some wonderful songs here, including "Teddy Bears' Picnic," "I Told Them All About You," "Smiles" and more...  This is last night's episode, Number 1374 of Craig Ventresco and Meredith Axelrod's YouTube and Facebook streamed "KitchenCast," an almost-nightly live event that began when the pandemic cut into their local gigs in 2020.  Posting this episode here will help me share it, find it again, and -- as a bonus -- remind myself how to embed a YouTube video in Blogger, which I haven't been using very often recently. More examples and some extras from my Department of Compulsive Research below!  


Just to see if I've got that embedding technique down, here's a one-song YouTube post from Meredith and Craig, from before the start of their pandemic streaming show four and a half years ago, "The Cubanola Glide," which I like because the town I live in has old Cubanola Cigar advertising painted on the walls of a couple of downtown buildings. I also like Meredith's ukulele playing, and the fact that they make eye contact with each other more than they do when they are watching Facebook and YouTube comment streams like they do in the live Kitchen Cast.

If you'd like to sing along, I found the sheet music a while ago. It looks like Meredith and Craig are playing in the ukulele and guitar friendly keys of G and C, while the original (piano) sheet music has the verses in Bb and the chorus in Eb.




By the way, they are both right-handed, but their Facebook stream and occasional YouTube clips appear with the image reversed. This "Just Another Day Wasted Away" clip not only shows that phenomenon, it also has some lovely harmonizing and "voice trumpet" or "blue blowing" by Meredith.  





Meanwhile, for old-song fans, here are the "Second Hand Songs" pages for the tunes I've mentioned above:



Thursday, October 31, 2024

20 years on Virginia's Crooked Road, plus a contra dance

Cardinal News Oct 31 2024
 In a rare blogging crossover, it seemed appropriate to write in my other blog today about the Cardinal News article tracing the history of The Crooked Road, Virginia's Heritage Music Trail, and put a link to that "Other Journalism" blog here. That item turned into a personal collection of links and memories about Virginia newspaper websites, the Internet Archive, and a sneaky self-serving plug for a performance by "Bring the Feet," at the November 9 Floyd Contra Dance

In its opening photo, look for my mandolin waiting on my chair, at the right. I'm in the background, wearing a tan "Dittyville" cap and holding a cup of coffee, talking to Bring the Feet's hammered dulcimer and keyboard virtuoso, Randy Marchany, in a plaid shirt, bottle of orange soda in hand. 

We met at either that same Floyd Country Store jam or maybe its warm-weather counterpart, the Blacksburg Market Square Oldtime Jam, where I recognized him a dozen years ago from his previous band, "No Strings Attached."

More recently, when a Floyd fiddler was putting together a band for the (post-Covid) revived Floyd dance, she asked if I knew anything about New England contra dance music. I admitted to 30 years of dancing and a few occasions of sitting-in with legendary caller Ralph Sweet in Connecticut. More importantly, I tipped her off to Randy's "No Strings" past, and he mentioned that No Strings' bass player was also available. So a band was born... for at least one dance a year. (Actually, this is our fourth for  2024!)  

I just realized that the other blog post, while mentioning that Cardinal News reporter Ralph Berrier Jr. is an old-time and bluegrass fiddler, failed to mention his band, The Java Brothers, or his book about the bluegrass music careers of his grandfather and great-uncle, "If Trouble Don't Kill Me." Here's a YouTube copy of a Java Brothers concert ...





Thursday, August 29, 2024

Wildwood Flowering in 2024

 I just saw a comment on the 1928 recording of Wildwood Flower by the Carter Family that set me off researching so much that I have to share the results here to justify the time I spent in "SecondHandSongs.com" "Discogs.com" and "YouTube.com" -- all amazing resources!

The commenter who got my attention said they always thought the song was from the 1960s. (It's actually from the 1860s, as someone pointed out in the same discussion.)

My (expanded) reply:

It definitely "came back" in the early 1960s!

The New Lost City Ramblers and Maybelle Carter did it at a Newport Folk Festival, Flatt & Scruggs did it at Carnegie Hall, the Stanley Brothers and a dozen others (even Duane Eddy's twangy electric guitar!) recorded it, and almost every high school and college student learning to play "folk guitar" struggled with Maybelle's "Carter scratch" bass-and-chord thumb-pick guitar style.

(Search YouTube for her 1961 Grand Ol' Opry live video with closeups.)

Some learned the tune with different lyrics -- Woody Guthrie's c.1942 song, "The Sinking of the Reuben James," about the first U.S. ship sunk in World War II. The song was brought back c. 1960 in thousands of concerts and coffee house singalongs by Pete Seeger, the Kingston Trio and more.

And then there was the pot-farming parody, "Wildwood Weed"... Even the NLCR did that one in concert, minus Maybelle! (But with a cute reference by Mike Seeger to his brother Pete.) Author credits for the parody apparently belong to Texas songwriter and radio host Don Bowman around 1964. Fascinating that YouTube has all of these versions.

I'll put a couple of YouTube videos here if the computer doesn't crash, then get on with my day...


Tuesday, July 09, 2024

Old-time debates about old-time music. What's that?

I mentioned to one of my journalism classes 15 or so years ago that on the weekends I played "old-time" music. A student responded, "You mean, like, Sinatra?" 
No, I said, I meant, like Mike Seeger and perhaps his older half-brother Pete, and the older folks from North Carolina, Virginia and West Virginia that they learned from. 
Artist's rendition of old mandolin player with long beard, orange cap and 80-year-old mandolin

A Facebook discussion earlier this month has sent me down a compulsive-research rabbit hole to a Wikipedia page about "Old-Time Music," which by one of its definitions I still play every Sunday afternoon and Wednesday evening at southwest Virginia jam sessions, and which -- by other definitions -- has fascinated me since I bought my first Pete Seeger and New Lost City Ramblers albums during the 1960s "folk music revival" (Or "The Great Folk Music Scare," as Utah Phillips or someone else called it.)
The 20-year-old Wikipedia page has had numerous editorial additions and changes over the years, but its most prominent feature when I got there were a few prominent "citation needed" notices and a somewhat random use of Wikipedia's "references" feature.
My own "primary sources" for learning about "folk music" were big library books, but the phrases "old-time" or "old-timey" music in the 1960s and '70s came to me mostly from LP records and their liner notes, so I've added some of those as references on the Wikipedia page, as well as more recent books I've at least browsed through. A fine CD box-set that came out a few years ago made it very clear that New York's "Friends of Old-Time Music" or "FOTM" used that name as a broad umbrella for "authentic" or "traditional" folk music concerts and records, to avoid confusion with the commercialized singer-songwriter and "interpreter" artists being marketed under the "folk music" banner in the 1960s. The New Yorkers who ran FOTM, unlike the 1920s record companies that used the phrase "old time music," included black guitar players like Mississippi John Hurt under the heading, and older bluegrass bands that had roots in older fiddle and singing styles and perhaps less influence from Nashville record producers ideas of commercial country music. French Canadian and Louisiana Cajun fiddlers also appeared in "old-time" concerts.
Nowadays, "old-time music" is more specifically a fiddle-contest and music convention category to distinguish pre-bluegrass fiddle-and-banjo playing styles in Appalachia, the Ozarks and elsewhere. And today some young players are eager to point out the segregation-area exclusion of black fiddlers and banjo players from early 20th century "old time" records, and so have been reclaiming recognition for the black performance styles that influenced white players, as well as the black origins of the banjo -- an instrument with African antecedents that fell into white hands in the early 19th century and became an international fad after white-impersonators in black makeup created the "Minstrel Show," leading music-instrument factories to mass-produce banjos, and variations on the instrument found roles in Dixieland, Ragtime and Jazz bands, even crossing the Atlantic into Irish music on tenor banjos and British pop-songs accompanied by banjo-ukuleles.  Both the banjo and old-time fiddle have separate Wikipedia pages, by the way. I'm staying away from those.
Back to "old-time music"; those early U.S. record companies had separate "race" labels and catalogs, which presented black blues and gospel performers, but the producers appear to have left the old folksongs and fiddle tunes to whites, along with most 20th century banjo playing, all featured under headings including "hillbilly," "mountain music" and "old-time" and "country"... industry distinctions that got even more complicated with the later recording categories "country and Western)," "folk music," "rhythm and blues" and "rock 'n' roll." But that's another story.

The whole Wikipedia old-time-music page seemed to assume the definition of that phrase was written in stone somewhere, but so far I haven't turned over the right rock. The page was -- and still is -- weak on citations. Its history section gave a lot of weight to a 2021 website article from the state of Washington, about as far as you can get from Appalachia, but this music has been getting around for a couple of centuries or more, and the article itself seems quite good, even mentioning a few promising book titles. It's available online for free here: 
 
If you save the Wikipedia "page" as a PDF file, which I've finally done, it is 13 pages long. (The banjo page is 22; the old-time fiddle page is 9 more.) I've added a few more "old-time" references at various points, but I'm hoping others with both knowledge and a compulsive attitude toward footnotes and coding Wikipedia citation styles will also come to the page's rescue. For now, I've worked more than a half-dozen sources into sections of the page, but my citation style is an inconsistent mess, which I blame on Web cutting-and-pasting while just using a smartphone part of the time... 
Pasting them into this Blogger editing system will probably create another formatting mess, because I haven't used Blogger much in years, and won't have much time today to come back and clean things up after I hit "Publish." 

But here they are: 

Tuesday, July 02, 2024

John Prine & Steve Goodman

Another Bob S, from the 3rd Street Coffee House in Roanoke, just proposed the idea of naming a section of street there for John Prine.  I don't know much about Roanoke, and I've never made it to that coffee house, even though it's only an hour or so away, but the street-naming campaign it sounds like a fine idea...

I didn't get to John's last concert there in November, 2019. I forget why. And I forget whether I apologized for missing the show when I ran into him a month later at a guitar shop in Nashville. 

But we did talk about the first time I saw him forty-some years earlier, and the pictures I took of him and Leon Redbone that day. John died of covid a few months later, before I could get back to Nashville to give him one of those pictures. 

Meanwhile, if Chicago hasn't already done it, that City should name a bunch of places after the great singers and songwriters it has produced... They could start with two intersecting streets so folks can gather at the corner of Prine & Goodman ... Maybe put a diamond shaped park there, and make the opposite corner of the intersection of Sam Stone & Flag Decal. 

And Chicago should have a footstep trail named for Steve, leading from Wrigley Field, where he watched the Cubs play, to Union Station, where he boarded the City of New Orleans.

Maybe it already does.