The Last Of The Mississippi Bluesmen

David "Honeyboy" Edwards died today.

He was the last of the great old Mississippi bluesmen, and you haven't heard the Delta blues played like this, ever. Here he is, in his 90s, still giving it his all:



This is the kind of blues that sits in your belly like a hungry wolfcub, taking bites straight out of your heart. Blues like showers of rain.

Thank you, Mr. Edwards. May your memory and your music live forever.

"Self!" by Deep Cotton

(c) 2006 Rina S. Prussin

Here are the song lyrics to a very terrific song ... song called "Self!" by Deep Cotton ... it's the first song on the compilation for this month's edition of the magazine The Believer ... the Music Issue ...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Getting ridiculous!
I'm getting ridiculous!
Always feel like I'm ...
playing games and I ...
losing all the time
Maybe it's just my mind

Guitar says to me:
Self!
Extra points if you refuse to take your medication.
Self!
Extra points if you're black and dance whiter
... Or if you're white and talk blacker
Self!
_ [unintelligible words] if your own girlfriend thinks you're game
You think she's right

Get right down to the game right now This fool is dying, don't forget it Get right down to the game right now This fool is dying, don't forget it

Who will help me with the mirror?
Who will help me with the beat?

SON, TAKE OUT THE TRASH!
Dad, there are maggots in there
Dad, there's maggots in there

Get right down to the game right now This fool is dying, don't forget it Get right down to the game right now This fool is dying, don't forget it

Dad, there are maggots in there
Dad, there's maggots ...

Get right down to the game right now This fool is dying, don't forget it Get right down to the game right now This fool is dying, don't forget it

Self!
Extra points if your shadow has a [unintelligible words] for a transfer
Self!
Extra points if the lyrics have just stopped making sense.
Self!
Extra points if you wonder where all those grey hairs came from

Raise your hand if dancing is your therapy
Self!
Extra points if you thought this game was going to end differently now
with two children, a house, and an electric car
Raise your hand if you'd like to buy a new body
... Or a little more timing
Self!
Extra points if you do not know how to put your heart back together
Raise your hand if it all sounds like science fiction and
it's just your life
And if you have memories for sale,
see the ushers in the yellow suits
They can help you now

-- Deep Cotton

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I wish I could upload the file!!! It is such a good song ... the beat, their voices, the instruments. The underlying subject is very serious but the music and beat makes it *sound* fun and lighthearted. This song reminds me of The Talking Heads ... that balance of very serious subject matter but sounds fun ... the lyrics ("... stop making sense" are the most obvious ones) and the instruments. If any of you subscribe to The Believer and listen to this song ... let me know what you think -- leave a comment.

Just Saw Patti Smith ...

photographer unknown, found this photo at untossedcoin.wordpress.com/.../

Yes. I just saw Patti Smith tonight. She was at Herbst Theater in San Francisco as part of the Arts and Politics series for City Arts & Lectures.

She was really wonderful. She's touring for her new book Just Kids which is about her and Robert Mapplethorpe when they were young and starting out in New York. She told lots of stories, read from her book, read a poem and dedicated it to Howard Zinn (he died today), and gave a mini 2 song concert. She sounded great! Her voice is still wonderful and powerful.

I'm about a third of the way into her book and enjoying it very much. (Review will happen on this web when I'm done.)

Music: The Amazing Blondel

You might say the denizens of La Casa de Los Gatos are mightily fond of the delicate plucking of stringed instruments. Lutes, sarod, pi-pa, shamisen. We love them all. Combined with the delicate breathing of some dulcet wind instrument, say, a flute, and bringing life to a creation of Renaissance/prog rock, one achieves The Amazing Blondel.

Here in part, Fantasia Lindum:



Swifts and Swains, Leafy Lanes and God Must Doubt. It makes us long to visit Lincolnshire, the land to which this album is an homage. Lindum is the Latin name of the town of Lincoln, set in verdant Lincolnshire, as the video clip shows.

Happy 90th Birthday, Dear Pete Seeger

From the Writer's Almanac ...

It's the birthday of folk singer Pete Seeger, born in New York City (1919). His mother was a violinist and his father was a musicologist. As a teenager, he rebelled against his parents' love of music and decided he wanted to be a painter. But the first time he heard the sound of a banjo at the Folk Song and Dance Festival in Asheville, North Carolina, he fell in love with folk music. He dropped out of Harvard and rode the rails across America in the middle of the Great Depression, picking up folk songs and learning banjo techniques from farmers, workers, and mountaineers. He wrote:

Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone?
Girls have picked them every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Taken husbands every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young men gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone for soldiers every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Covered with flowers every one
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?

©1961 (Renewed) Fall River Music Inc
All Rights Reserved.

James Brown and Pete Seeger

Today are the birthdays of James Brown and Pete Seeger. Now, what in the hell do they have in common? Besides music? I guess wanting to change the world. You can say that about the Godfather of Soul ... the King of Funk ... the ex-Hardest Working Man in Show Business. He got side-tracked more than Pete Seeger ... but he was wanting to change the world for sure: "Say it Loud -- I'm Black and I'm Proud."


So, I"ve got two songs here by both men. "Doin' it to Death" has been one of my favorites my whole life. I was in a music appreciation club with co-workers for many years and we once made up a Top Ten list of songs -- "Doin' it to Death" was one of my top tens. The rhythm and beat and melody is so fantastic!!! It is so very impossible to stay seated during this song.

James Brown, may he rest in peace ...


Doin’ it to death - James Brown

Hit it! How you feelin' brother? (Feelin' good!)
You're feelin' good
You play so much bone, brother
How you feelin', man? (I feel alright!)
I won't call your name
I don't want no people to know you're in here
How you feelin', fellas? (Alright!)
Now jam! Sure gettin' down
We're gonna have a funk good time...
We gotta take you higher
Huh! Alright!
We gotta take you higher, huh!
Brothers! Now I want everybody to blow
About two choruses
And then I'm gonna wave you in
I wanna get the fella
With the little horn over there
Fred's gonna take us higher, take us higher
Fred, Fred, Fred!
You know what, when I hear a groove
Like this groove, oh!
I say, I got to get higher
Yeah baby, yeah, yeah
Look a'here
When someone's got a groove like this
You know, you know, no!
I need to grit, gotta grit
Gonna eat, gotta eat
Need to grit, gotta grit, no breath
You know, brothers
I'm gettin' ready to wave y'all in
You know what
I feel so down, I need to get down
In order for me to get down
I got to get in D.
In order for me to get down, I got to get in D.
Need to get in D., dog for D.
Down D., funky D., shakin' D.,down D.
Oh! Huh! Ha ha!
Get on down!
Look a'here, look at that
What we gotta do
Gotta have a funk good time...
Oh, yeah
I didn't know you were singin', Fred
Don't moan so much
Buddy, don't moan so much
We gotta take you higher
Wait a minute!
Know who you say that was over there
(Man, you're lookin' better)
(I know I've seen him somewhere)
Is that Maceo?

*****

In my teenage years, I madly loved this song -- "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?" -- and couldn't understand how our leaders, if they listened carefully to this song, could lead us into war. Hitler is a challenge to many many pacifists and he and other evil bullies of that ilk are why I cannot truly call myself a pacifist. I would have joined the services in WWII. If someone seriously attacks one of my friends or families, I would fight to kill. But there's a H-U-G-E difference between that and going to war for all the greedy reasons the U.S. and other countries have gone to war.

Pete Seeger was a pacifist before WWII and it sounds like he debated a lot with his friends about what to do about Hitler. He joined the Navy in 1941. He was trained as an airplane mechanic but was reassigned to entertain troops.

The song is a bit heterosexist but I can overlook it. Years of 12 step programs: "Take what you like and leave the rest."


Pete Seeger is turning 89 today.



Where Have All the Flowers Gone - Pete Seeger

Where have all the flowers gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the flowers gone,
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone,
Young girls picked them every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn

Where have all the young girls gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the young girls gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the young girls gone,
gone to young men every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn

Where have all the young men gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the young men gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the young men gone,
gone to soldiers every one,
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn

Where have all the soldiers gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the soldiers gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the soldiers gone,
Gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn

Where have all the graveyards gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the graveyards gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the graveyards gone,
Gone to flowers every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn


To the young men and women all over the world who find themselves fighting in a war: we bless you, want you to return to us, and pray for you. I just wish you weren't there.

Music: Qawwali

While tootling around Kyle's place this morning, we took note of his comment that some in the media apparently had difficulty pronouncing Barack Obama's first name (we won't even go into the shenanigans they've perpetrated with his last name), and were reminded of how infuriated we become when we hear one of our very favourite musicians distorted thus:

Noose Rat Fatty Early Cohen

on stations which really ought to emply people who know better. Peoples, this is not some unknown dude bellowing his heart out in a cornfield (wheatfield?) somewhere. He is a master of Qawwali music (well, was. We were utterly heartbroken when he died) who has performed at the Royal Albert, fer cryin' out, we ourselves saw him at the Masonic Auditorium and at the Greek Theater (and there was barely room to fart, not to mention the shamelessness of various men, boys, girls, and women dancing in the aisles and swarming the stage. It's a good thing the South Asian community tends to dress formally in cumbersome clothing for affairs such as this, or underwear would've been flying in all directions (no doubt pissing off the Mighty Khan something terrible - he wasn't even happy about the customary showering with money).

At any rate, here he is an early clip (not very good, but hey).



His incomparable stylings, his talent in blending jazz and classical Hindustani music with the traditional qawwali form, and (largely, though not always) managing to avoid the vulgarity of typical filmi music &mdash where to find another like him? Rightly labeled "Ustadji." Although I just want to say that the young guy's voice makes me want to strangle him. Here, for your listening pleasure, Yeh Jo Halka Halka.

We're off to find his entire treasure of a collection on the iPod (best fucking investment we ever made, being able to listen to The Mighty Khan all damn day while still running around).

Aside: Microsoft Word kept trying to tell us the word we wanted was "muskrat." It's one of those things that leaves you awfully tempted to take the next bus to Redmond just for the pleasure of strangling those blithering idiots.

B.A.D. Stroll Through Blogtopia

Well, fuck me blind, as we say back in the old country. (No, really, we do, although not around ThePoliticalCat's parental units who, being of a different generation and a rather prudish persuasion, would have a fit.)

Rotus over at Clarkspicks blogrolled us, so we wandered over to see what we could, and who's his featured artist today but Ali Farka Toure. Eeeyah!

Ali Farka Toure is, like, one of our fave musicians, and when you listen to the rockin' clip Rotus posted, you'll see why. Toure tips a hat to John Lee Hooker (another musician that we fuckin' love) as one of his influences.

Dis da kine music that makes ThePoliticalCat wish we were NOT gimps, cause dammit, we want to DANCE to this. Check out the audience. They're feelin' the call too.

R.I.P. Ike Turner

He had many faults, but what he contributed to Rock 'n Roll can never be denied.

The Guardian has his obit.

AFAICT, the U.S. media are too busy getting their undies in a humongogantic wad over whether Hucksterbee really dissed Romney's weirdo cult or Obama really snorted coke, unlike our worthless drydrunk ex-coke addict of a current Dear Leader, who these days is positively looking gin-blossomed as well as zonked out of his mind on *some*thing. Probly stole the glassy-eyed wifey's Xanax prescrip.


At any rate, Ike Turner is dead and gone. Free at last.

Peace for John Lennon

Reuters photo

On Tuesday this week, Yoko Ono unveiled a monument to honor her beloved, John Lennon. And urged the world once again to give peace a chance.

A few years ago she had an exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco and I went to it. I loved it. I love her sense of humor and intelligence. I loved watching the fly movie ... a fly walks all over a nude woman's body to the soundtrack of Yoko making her weird screechy noises. I was the only one who watched it all the way through. You can catch it here. The film really is bizarre but for some reason it caught me. It's this strange mixture of sensual and humorous. I have a refrigerator magnet that is a still from this movie ... the fly exploring the woman's nipple. My kids' reactions to the magnet: "Eeeewwww!!"

I also have a magnet:

WAR IS OVER


If you want it

This slogan was on many billboards all over the world ... a project in the 70's of Yoko and John's.

Anyway the monument is this tower of light constructed on Videy island near Reykjavik's harbor (the Icelandic capital). They lit it yesterday because it would have been ... get this ... John's 67th birthday.

Pause while I catch me breath. I'm feeling old. 67 for Christ's sake.

It will stay lit until Dec 8 ... which is the anniversary of John's death.

Sean was there as was Ringo and George Harrison's widow Olivia.

"We're all here for Johnny's birthday and the big light," Starr said. "I love the light."

The tower is a beam of light, radiating from a wishing well bearing the words "imagine peace" in 24 languages. The plan is for it to be lit each year between his birthday, Oct. 9, and the anniversary of his death on Dec. 8.

Yoko chose Iceland because it was a very eco-friendly country that relied on geothermal energy. So, the light too will be lit by geothermal energy. Cool, eh? The woman's always thinkin'.

Screw you, you "she-broke-up-the-Beatles" assholes. Get a life.

Hope you've been resting, Janis

It was on this day--October 4-- in 1970 that Janis Joplin died.

I had just seen her in an outdoor concert in Boston a couple of weeks before.

Sigh.

In peace, hopefully, Janis.

This is our new Culture blog

Ms. Manitoba, FoTPC, and I have decided to create a new space to host some of our interests. ThePoliticalCat (http://www.kalimao.blogspot.com) will remain devoted to our political interests, and will include regular posts on environmental news, the war in Iraq, the war in Afghanistan, human rights, workers' rights, women's rights, labor issues, and the like. This blog will be the home to posts on books, film, music, and art. Watch this space!