Last week Secretary of Education Betsy Devos had her 163 foot yacht (one of nine boats she and her husband own) unmoored in Ohio, causing the boat to float aimlessly for a short period and sustain a few scratches.
My guess is that considering the disaster that is the republican tax cut for the rich, and the growing chasm in America between rich and poor, it's only a matter of time before untying some billionaire's boat and casting it adrift as a means of protest is going to seem decidedly quaint.
Laugh to keep from crying or cry to keep from laughing?
Mike Pence this weekend defended a Trump Administration decision to ban a CNN reporter (Kaitlan Collins, who had the temerity to ask Trump pointed questions) from a White House press event by saying "But maintaining the decorum that is due at the White House...is an issue that we'll continue to work forward."
Ahem.
Seriously, fucking decorum in the White House? When it's current occupant is the crudest, crassest, most disgusting human being to ever live there? A man who is literally a pig and an embarrassment to an entire nation?
Just one more reason to not believe in God--what kind of God would create such an execrable fellating sycophant and make him Vice President of the most powerful country on earth?
Like many folks, my introduction to The Band came from Martin Scorsese's seminal rockumentary, The Last Waltz. I've watched it as much as I've listened to any album by any artist (helped along by the fact that my youngest son loves it as well and when he was younger he could watch it on an endless loop), and lo, these forty some odd years since I first saw it on HBO when HBO was some newfangled TV oddity, I enjoy it--and The Band--as much as ever. Much like I noted last week with Johnny Cash and other solo artists, there are few bands (The Beatles, The Who, The Replacements, The Jam) whose music I admire as much as The Band's.
In the early 1960's, four Canadians (Rick Danko, Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel, and Robbie Robertson) got together with one American (Levon Helm) and worked around Toronto as the backup musicians for Ronnie Hawkins. Eventually they tired of both Hawkins and playing cover versions and broke away on their own. They became Bob Dylan's backing band for a few albums and tours before becoming The Band in 1969 and setting the critical world on fire. Over the next eight years, The Band would release seven albums (their first two show up on many best of all time lists), tour incessantly, have some decent commercial success (but nothing like some of their peers), and become critical darlings. Tired of touring, Robbie Robertson conceived of The Last Waltz in 1976 as a farewell concert and stepped away from the group. The Band would reunite sans Robertson and resume touring in 1983, eventually releasing three more albums. Sadly, Richard Manuel committed suicide in 1986, and Rick Danko would die in his sleep in 1999 (after many years of hard living), and The Band ceased to exist. Through the years, there was much vitriol aimed at Robertson over songwriting credits (see also, money), so much so that Levon Helm refused to reunite with him at their Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in 1994 (in fairness, some of what Robertson did does sound just a tad hinky). In the end, I think The Band ranks with the Beach Boys as American's greatest rock and roll band (actually they would be the greatest in my estimation), but time has not been as kind to them (at least to your average music fan) as bands such as the Beatles, the Stones, the Who, and the aforementioned Beach Boys. Which is a damn shame--they were really a hell of a group.
Released in 1975 on their Northern Lights--Southern CrossLP, "It Makes No Difference" was never released as a single, so there's no shout out to Billboard magazine this week. Many consider it to be Robertson's magnum songopus (just trying to keep it interesting), and I wouldn't necessarily disagree with that claim, though "Acadian Driftwood" from the same album would stand right alongside it as far as best song he's ever written.
I've noted often here on FNJ that there are few things rock and roll does better than create songs for the brokenhearted (and you only need one broken heart over the course of your lifetime--and how many of us haven't had at least one of those?--to appreciate such songs), and "It Makes No Difference" is a fine addition to the pantheon of songs devoted to a broken heart. The song is also a testament to the greatness that can emerge when there is a confluence of all the musical elements--from Robertson's heartfelt lyrics to the backing vocals of Helm and Manuel, from Robertson's subtle yet mimicking guitar to Hudson's saxophone solo. But truly the wonder of this song is Rick Danko's vocals--Danko captures the heartache of lost love without becoming maudlin and probably delivers the performance of his career.
Lyric Sheet: "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..."
"Of course, if you're one of the 54 Percent--the Americans who actively oppose Trump--there is a good chance of electing a radically new House of Representatives for 2019 that will act decisively if special counsel Robert Mueller's probe provides enough evidence for impeachment. But Republican senators and the 41 Percent won't stand for Trump's ultimate removal, and I'm not sure anyone is ready for the new brand of civil war that would be created by all of this." (Emphasis mine)
I have been seeing this theme more and more of late, and it has me completely flabbergasted.
If we are not willing to fight for what's right--despite threats from pretend "Americans"--then what is the point of fighting at all? I'm not some deranged revolutionary--while my end is a lot nearer than my beginning, I have a wife and three children who have many years left yet to live. And I want to see them enjoy all the ones they have. But if we're going to cower in the face of bullying then we all might as well mosey on down to the racist, misogynistic, homophobic, and treasonous trough and take a big bite.
Because America as we know it will officially be fucking done.
While Steny Hoyer was giving a fervent speech on protecting our votes as Congress was debating an amendment to allot more money for cybersecurity for our upcoming midterm elections, republican traitors sat on their hands, so, so happy to let Russia take over our country, while the true American patriots, the Democratic Party, cheered and chanted "USA! USA! USA!" This is truly a fight for the soul of our country, and Democats are proving again and again that they are up to the challenge of ensuring we remain the United States of America and not the United States of Putin's Puppets.
Thanks to republicans, the amendment did not pass, but as I watched the Dems chanting I couldn't help but think, "Who's your daddy now, motherfuckers?"
For the both of you paying close attention, I'm a little behind in FNJ posts--Roger Miller, which I posted Sunday should have been the Friday before last, and this week's should have been last Friday's. Sometimes, believe it or not, life does not quite work out the way we intend it to....
Trying to pick a favorite Johnny Cash song, for me, is a little like trying to pick the most beautiful star in the sky (a little exaggeration but not much--Cash wrote over 1000 songs in his lifetime). So much beauty, so many to choose.
Johnny Cash is another in a long line of music performers whose bio is just a bit too crowded for a one paragraph description. Suffice it to say that Cash is beyond a legend. I'd be hard pressed to name too many solo artists (Springsteen, Petty, Mellencamp, maybe a handful of others) whose work I admire as much as his--and I'm not much of a Country Music fan. Cash sold over 90 million records in his lifetime, has so many album and single releases that Wikipedia had a discography section for each (never seen that before in all my years of half-assed research), had his own TV show, won four Grammy Awards, and toured non-stop for the better part of forty years. Cash was not without his demons--he had lifelong drug addiction problems (amphetamines), and despite his oft stated love for second wife June Carter Cash, was also quite the womanizer. He is the only Country Music artist to be enshrined in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a performer (the others were inducted as influences), and is the only music performer to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Country Music Hall of Fame, and the Gospel Music Hall of Fame. He's also in the Songwriters Hall of Fame. When Cash passed away in 2003 (just four months after June Carter Cash had passed) from complications from diabetes, he'd come a long way from the poor Tennessee sharecropper's son he'd grown up as.
Fun Fact #1: Johnny Cash was born as J.R. Cash--just initials, no first name. He changed it to John R. Cash when he joined the service because the military--prickly fuckers that they are--had rules against anyone being called by just initials.
Originally released in 1955 on his debut album, With His Hot and Blue Guitar(and quite the debut album title there, too), "Folsom Prison Blues" would go on to reach #3 (with a bullet!) on the Country Singles Chart, and #17 (also with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100. Just to show how truly great the song is, Cash released it again as a single in 1968, this time the live version from his seminal LP At Folsom Prison, and it went to #1 (once more with a bullet!) on the Country Singles Chart, and #32 (yet again with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100. The song also was listed at #51 on Rolling Stone's list of the 100 Greatest Country Songs of All Time.
Much like Roger Miller's "King of the Road," sparse would be an apt description of "Folsom Prison Blues." It really says something when an artist can make so much of so little--there are only two guitars, a bass, and Cash's vocals throughout the song. In it, Cash tells the tell of a man sent to prison for life because he shot a man "just to watch him die" (Cash said he wrote that line to make the character as despicable as possible, but be that as it may, it's hard not to feel a bit of empathy for him), and how sad he is to hear the train blowing its whistle as it goes by because he knows he'll never be on it. Cash wrote this song when he was in his early twenties, and the maturity he shows in his songwriting is remarkable--as I noted he makes us empathize with a despicable man, and still takes just two minutes and fifty-six seconds to make us feel his sorrow with nary a misplaced word or phrase. When he toured, Cash would always open his shows with the words, "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash" and immediately proceed into "Folsom Prison Blues"--and it says a lot about the man and the tune that a song he wrote when he was a very young man still had the power to move him and his fans so many years down the road. In the end, that's why I chose this one--it's Cash's signature song and his most endearing and enduring.
Fun Fact #2: While trying not to turn this post into a novel...Cash had no drummer for the recording. So you might ask, where did the drum like sounds in the background originate? Oddly enough, they were created by placing a dollar bill between the strings of a guitar and strumming the muted strings in rhythm. Even in music, necessity proves to be the mother of invention...
Lyric Sheet: "I hear the train a comin'/It's rolling round the bend/And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when..."
There will be countless hours devoted tomorrow in the media to dissecting Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin's meeting in Helsinki, but it can be easily encapsulated with one simple word.
An odd (yet completely uninteresting) tidbit about this week's tune is that it shares with last week's tune (Liz Phair's "Perfect World") a minor distinction--it is one of only a handful of tunes that I taught myself to play on guitar by ear. I know--fascinating, my God.
Roger Miller grew up a shy boy in Erick, Oklahoma, and despite his lack of discipline and wild ways, managed to carve out a hell of a career. He was one of the most successful country songwriters of the 1950's, before embarking on a solo recording career in 1958. He failed to have any early success, and in 1963 accepted $1600 from Smash Records in return for recording sixteen songs, which he hoped to use as seed money to go to Hollywood and try to become an actor. Fate had other plans, and his first album for Smash yielded the hit "Dang Me" which became his first #1 Country single and led to his winning 5 Grammy Awards in 1964. The next year he released another album, had another #1 Country single with this week's tune, and collected six more Grammy Awards. While Miller would never again have quite the same level of success, he would release a number of songs that hit the Country charts. In the early eighties Miller stepped away from the music industry for a few years but came back when he was asked to write a score for a Broadway musical based on Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It took him a couple of years, but the result was Big River, which earned a Tony for best musical, and a Tony for Miller himself for best score. Over the course of his career, Miller released 20 albums, had three #1 hits, had four other #1 hits recorded by other artists, and won 11 Grammys. Sadly, Miller, a lifelong smoker, succumbed to lung cancer in 1996 at the all too young of an age of 56.
Released in 1965 on his The Return of Roger MillerLP, "King of the Road" would top the Country charts (as noted above), and reach #4 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100. The song is considered by some to be the greatest country song ever written (which is somewhat odd as the song somewhat defies classification), and while I wouldn't necessarily say it was my choice, it certainly deserves consideration.
William Shakespeare famously wrote in Hamlet that brevity is the soul of wit, and in "King of the Road" Roger Miller takes that bit of writing advice to heart. Clocking in at just two minutes and thirty seconds, Miller weaves the tale of a happy hobo and his wanderings with nary a wasted word and just a little whimsy. Even the music is sparse--a bass, an acoustic guitar, and--an FNJ first--some dandy finger snapping. Miller sings with a jaunty swagger that brings his happy hobo to life. Many other songs of this nature end up being little more than novelty songs, but with his finely crafted lyrics and joyous performance, Miller has given us an enduring classic.
Lyric Sheet: "I know every engineer on every train/All the children and all of their names/Every handout in every town/And every lock that ain't locked when no one's around..."
Amid the dystopia in which we are now living thanks to Donald Trump and his republican minions, it's easy to forget that those of us on the left have been fighting the evil on the right for a long time...and probably will be for as long as most of us may live.
Today is Woody Guthrie Day, a tribute to the man who fought the good fight for social justice and a fair economic system for all of us long before most of us were born. It's also a hopeful reminder of how far we have come, and though we still have far to go, that the promised land will be more than just a promise.
"This Land Is Your Land" is the greatest song ever written about America and an ode to both the beauty and the ugliness that resides herein. As I've already featured Guthrie's version, I'd like to feature his heir apparent, Bruce Springsteen, and his powerful version (which I had the good fortune of seeing live, though not on the night of the one featured below).
Enjoy while you, too, keep fighting the good fight:
Now that Ohio Rep. Jim Jordan has joined Donald Trump, Roy Moore, and Denny Hastert in sharing the stain of pedophilia, maybe it's time to start asking exactly how it is that the republican party became the party of family values?
Because from here, it's starting to look like G.O.P. should be an acronym for Grand Old Perverts....
Back in the day when I was taking guitar lessons, I used to get scolded for letting my fingers slide along the strings as I switched chords because it would make the strings squeak--imagine my surprise when listening to this week's tune (also back in the day) that one time Indie It Girl Liz Phair had the same flaw in her technique....
Liz Phair burst onto the music scene in 1993 with the release of her seminal debut LP, Exile in Guyville (an all time emaycee fave, ranked #327 on Rolling Stone's list of the "500 Greatest Albums of All Time"), and while she never quite lived up to the early potential many saw in her, still has had (and continues to have) a very respectable career in the music industry. During the mid 2000's Phair took a new direction in her career and went from Indie It Girl to Pop Diva--which went over like a fart in church (in fairness, not all Phair's fault as it was kind of an "or else" directive from her label--but in fairness to those who decried Phair's decision what I've heard of her pop tunes was pretty weak), but it didn't bring her any more commercial success than before. Today she still tours and makes most of her income by writing music for television shows, which beats the hell out of selling groceries. Still, over the course of her career Phair has sold some three million records, released 6 albums, had one top forty single, and received a Grammy nomination. Many would say, myself included, that that's a phairly good run....
Released on her WhitechocolatespaceeggLP in 1998, "Perfect World" was not released as a single (though it would have made a hell of a good one), so there's no need for mentions of the Billboard Hot 100. The album was the highest charting of Phair's career, peaking at #35 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard 200.
Fun Fact: For those wondering, Whitechocolatespaceegg would be what Phair thought her newborn son looked like....
"Perfect World" is another one of those songs that I began Friday Night Jukebox for--a chance to highlight little known album gems (not that there's anything wrong with well known gems). Clocking in at two minutes and fifteen seconds, "Perfect World" is a spare portrait of a woman looking into what she perceives to be the "pretty life" of a man she's desiring and wishing in a perfect world that she would be what she is not (if that makes any sense?). Anyway, the song features a couple of acoustic guitars and some violins, one of the best vocals of Phair's career (Phair often sings in a lilting monotone--oxymoron alert!--but she actually sings a credible ballad here), and one of the best lines written in the history of pop music (see below). All in all, Phair does with "Perfect World" what many a great artist before her has done: make the complex seem so much more simple than it really is.
Lyric Sheet: "No need for Lucifer to fall if he'd learn to keep his mouth shut...."
The average American gets paid just enough so he doesn't quit his job, and works just hard enough so he doesn't get fired.
"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross." Source unknown
Uncle emaycee Wants You For the Coming Class War! Enlist today....
Capitalism: Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you can exploit his labor, become filthy rich, and keep the poor bastard living paycheck to paycheck for the rest of his life.
