Blues Challenge

[trixiefirecracker]

Trixxxxerrrrrrrrrrrs!!!! *Chompity Chomp*
(don't forget yer blues name biyatch)

(look lauren trixers is here!)

I need a Blues name?????

Ummmm....ummmmm......hellllppppppp!

I get to be Angies biyatch??? Cooooelll!

 

[Angeline]

I get to be Angies biyatch??? Cooooelll!

You mean you're not?

And read the instructions on the first post to figure out how to get your name (of course you know what vulgar expression *I* think should be part of your name, but I know you won't do it, lol).

 

[trixiefirecracker]

You mean you're not?

And read the instructions on the first post to figure out how to get your name (of course you know what vulgar expression *I* think should be part of your name, but I know you won't do it, lol).

Ok....

Conjunctivitus Banana Big Mama Trixie Nixon......!!!! Heh heh heh!!

And of course I'm your biyatch woman!

 

[Angeline]

Kevin Young

writes blues poetry and he's the real thing. Like his predecessors Gwendolyn Brooks or Amiri Bakara, Young does not so much write blues lyrics, as he does poems that are informed by the essence of blues. Here's an example.

She got some saint
standing at the gate

keeping the crowds away.
I would get down

on knees, or pay
to build a stain-glass mission

if that would get me in -
I'd slave

& scrub & sing
in Sunday best till I was clean

as a broke-leg dog -

I'd save & spring
for a whole new church wing

if that would let me see
my Lady of Fog

& the Forty
Sorrows again -

(from "Jelly Roll")

There are more poems from his new book Jelly Roll: A Blues at Poetry Daily. He's very good. There's also a very good interview with him here, where he talks about blues and American culture.

If you're into the blues, this is interesting stuff.

 

[denis hale]

Two Quarters Short of a Load

For Angeline,

that celebrated, inimitable queen
of the coney island washing machine

a little more

Rory!


"Laundromat" by Rory Gallagher


What do you think of that?
I'm sleeping down at the laundromat,

If you should pass by,
Be sure to drop right in.
Well I don't have no clothes to clean,
To put inside the machine,
It was the craziest place,
I have ever been.

Come 'round and meet my friends,
They'll be there with me,
With me to the end,
With me to the end,
With me to the end.

They say I told you so,
Maybe bad times come and go,
If you don't know that right now,
But then you'll never know.

Well I don't have no clothes to clean,
To put inside the machine,
It's the craziest place,
I have ever been.

Come 'round and meet my friends
They'll be there with me,
With me to the end,
With me to the end,
With me to the end.

They say I told you so,
But baby bad times come and go,
If you don't know that right now,
But then you'll never know.

What do you think of that,
I'm on the street like an old stray cat,

If you should look for me,
You'd know exactly where to go.

Come 'round and meet my friends
They'll be there with me,

With me to the end,
With me to the end,
With me to the end.



Lawd lawd have mercy
one more spin cycle gonna
kill me girl make it stop now
with twirl that sexy sexy

nasty twirl!


ps that's me at the end, not Rory,
even though we are kindred souls,
god rest his...

 

[The_Fool]

Re: Broke Down Air Conditioner Blues

I really don't know how this one is going to go.
But the theme is simple.
The narrator can't sleep because the air conditioner is broken down.
And as a result of the air conditioner being broken.
He stays up all night because the heat is killing him.
As a result of his insomnia.
He finds out that his baby has been stepping out on him.
And kills both her and her lover.
And he is goes the the elctric chair not really upset about killing them.
Because that no good woman of his simply got what she deserved.
But he is pissed off about having to spend eternity in Hell.
Which has no air conditioning.

Any assistance will be appreciated....

I was thinking about starting it with a line like this...

I couldn't even wake up this morning...
Because that Mississippi heat baked me alive...

I grew up in Texas long enough ago that not many houses had Central Air. I still remember water coolers and only having window unit air conditioners. I remember just standing in in front of the window unit, the cold air almost freezing my face. I also remember being so restless at night because of the heat. Kicking all the covers on the floor, trying to find a cool spot on the bottom sheet. I remember waiting till I was so tired I could hardly stand it, then flipping the pillow to the "cool" side so I could get to sleep. Also remember standing in front of the refrigerator, sucking up the cool air. And getting my ass kicked for doing it too. Anyway, came up with these lines. Feel free to use, change or ignore.


Slave to the chill,
Slave to the breeze.

Night so quiet, can't get to sleep
Miss that grinding and groaning and moaning a/c.
Covers on the floor
can't stand it no more.

 

[Beatles5]

Blues Name

Hey Angeline!

Since Beatles5 sucks as a blues name...What do you think about Tallman?

 

[Beatles5]

The_Fool

Thank you for your advice.

I'm going towork on it this weekend.
And will definetly keep those lines in mind.

 

[Angeline]

Tallman!

Hey Angeline!

Since Beatles5 sucks as a blues name...What do you think about Tallman?

I think Tallman is just fine and will place this name on the blues poet list for perpetuity or however long this thread lasts, whichever comes first, .

I'll tell you though, I love most music--there's very little I truely dislike--and I am a major (and I mean *major*) Beatles fan. Major as in I can quote whole scenes from A Hard Day's Night. Look:

I now declare this bridge open. (John)
She looks more like him than I do. (More John)
A book! A bloomin book. (Paul's grandfather)
Dead grotty. (George)

And Help! Here's my favorite:

MIT wanted me you know. They wanted me to rule the world. (Victor Spinetti as the mad scientist)

Major as in I can quote just about any Beatles song (maybe not Revolution Number 9),

What can I say. They're sentimental favorites. But then I also like Laura Nyro, Segovia, Laurie Anderson, and the Schmenge Brothers.

Regards,
Angeline (who is even weirder and more eclectic than most can imagine. lol.)

 

[Beatles5]

Name

The Beatles were a great band....no doubt about that but they were to pop to be associated with The Blues. So my blues name is Tallman. But don't put me on the list yet because I don't deserve that honor until I finish my first one. Suicide Blues isn't really done yet. And Broke Down Air Conditioner Blues has a long way to go.

 

[Beatles5]

Lauren Hynde

You can start one though with something like:

Didn't wake up this morning,
Because I never went to bed.
These worried life blues,
Just got so deep inside my head!

And just go on about what kept you up all night!

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Re: Tallman!

What can I say. They're sentimental favorites. But then I also like Laura Nyro, Segovia, Laurie Anderson, and the Schmenge Brothers.

The Schmenge Brothers!

Who can forget the tuba solo in the Farewell Concert version of "Cabbage Rolls & Coffee" when, one by one, the Happy Wanderers put down their instruments and walked offstage? Pure gooseflesh. Or fat. One of the two.


By the way, has anyone noticed the excellent studio orchestra in the "Prime Time Glick Show", fronted by Adrian Van Voorhees? The instrumentation varies from night to night but alwasy includes Adrien on the harp (the big kind. The Angels kind, not the harmonica kind). Then there'll be maybe a bazouki player, a woman playing the trombone, a concertina, maybe a glockenspiel, banjo, a sackbut, string bass and maybe a viola de gamba or two. Check them out. Adrian rocks.


---dr.M.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Sorry.

I guess I had the echo chamber on.


---dr.M.

 

[Angeline]

Schmenges Redux

The Schmenge Brothers!

Who can forget the tuba solo in the Farewell Concert version of "Cabbage Rolls & Coffee" when, one by one, the Happy Wanderers put down their instruments and walked offstage? Pure gooseflesh. Or fat. One of the two.

Yes doc, it was schmaltz at its greasy finest, but you know there was one man who in one performance gave Yosh and Stan a run for their cabbage rolls. That of course was:

Sid Dithers
as The Jazz Singer (Remember?)

 

[wyattt]

Rotten Old Stinkin' Dog Blues

Ain't nothin on this Highway cept' a Rotten Old Stinkin' Dog,
Said Ain't Nothin' on this Highway Baby cept this Rotten old Stinkin' dog,
But he'll travel on to find you through that bitter rain and fog.

Left me lying baby in my house you're up and gone,
Ohhhh you left me lyin' baby in my house you're up and gone.
But I'll find you someday woman my search continues on and on.

Gimme some of that cryin' guitar blues boy.........


You told me that you love me how could you leave me in such pain ?
Said you told me that you loved me woman how could you leave me in such pain ?
But the road you have me travelin on it has me slowly goin insane.

If i'm never gonna find you I pray the lord will strike me down,
If I'm never ever gonna find you baby, i pray the lord will strike me down.
Just leave a rose upon my shallow grave whenever you pass through this town.

Oh she just a killin' me boys.......

Just Lay me down to rest sweet children the time is written in my eye,
Ohhhhhh just lay me down to my rest sweet childern the time is written cross my eyes.......
You know I'll love me just one woman all through the days of paradise.

Amen Brothers.

 

[wyattt]

Emotional Suicide

Somedays the world seems happy, Somedays it's dead and gone,
Somedays the world is happy baby, Somedays it's dead and gone.
But when tomorrow comes a knockin' woman, my train is leavin' it won't be long.

I sat round here for ages, hoping you'd give me some time,
See I sat round here for ages woman, hopin' you'd give me some time.
But I'm better off just travelin baby, if I remember I'll drop a dime.

I can tell you about heartache, and all the times you did me wrong,
Yes i can tell you about heartaches child, and all the times you did me wrong.
But if it wasn't for you now girl, there'd be no reason to sing my song.

Sometimes I still feel love, but not for you just for myself,
Sometimes i still feel love my baby, but not for you just for myself.
My love for you growed old and died, collecting dust up on that shelf.

Look at the empty bed now baby, look at the pillow and start to cry,
Look at the empty bed now baby, look at my pillow and start to cry.
Falling in love with you woman, it was emotional Suicide.........

 

[Beatles5]

Talking About The Blues

I saw Tracy Chapman do an incredible version of "House of The Rising Sun" the other day at The Beacon Theatre! It was incredible...

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Re: Kevin Young

writes blues poetry and he's the real thing. Like his predecessors Gwendolyn Brooks or Amiri Bakara, Young does not so much write blues lyrics, as he does poems that are informed by the essence of blues. Here's an example.

She got some saint
standing at the gate

keeping the crowds away.
I would get down

on knees, or pay
to build a stain-glass mission

if that would get me in -
I'd slave

& scrub & sing
in Sunday best till I was clean

as a broke-leg dog -

I'd save & spring
for a whole new church wing

if that would let me see
my Lady of Fog

& the Forty
Sorrows again -

(from "Jelly Roll")

There are more poems from his new book Jelly Roll: A Blues at Poetry Daily. He's very good. There's also a very good interview with him here, where he talks about blues and American culture.

If you're into the blues, this is interesting stuff.

Okay now, Angeline, it's bone picking time. I'be stood by and watched my beloved blues ridiculed and teased by a bunch of mega-middle class white kids for far too long, mainly because I was kind of enjoying it too, but if you're going to lampoon something, and least aim your poon in the right direction. I'm afraid the next step here is going to involve burnt cork, and then it's but a small step to dancin' on the levee and watermelon jokes.

Okay, I'm a party pooper. And really, I'm not complaining about stereotyping. I know that this is affectionate teasing and that doesn't bother me. What bothers me is people having so little knowledge of blues that they can't even tease it properly. It's like thinking that by sprinkling in a bunch of "thees" and "thous" to any sort of more or less blank verse you've produced a parody of Shakespeare. You're missing the whole point of what makes blues blues and not just whining or protest poetry.

A good blues lyric has the same delicacy and muscle as Haiku, in my opinion, but gets none of the respect. Plus it has to have the wit of a riddle and has to walk a fine edge between laugter and despair. It ain't easy.

Angeline, I know they said this guy above is "informed" by the blues, but really, I don't see it, not in his imagery, not in his tone, not nowhere. And Gwendolyn Brooks? Well, I don't know. Maybe she has, but blues is not what I think of when I think of her. It seems to me like the only similarity I see in the poem quoted above and the blues is a sense of discontent, but, hell "Blowin' In The Wind" has a sense of discontent too, and I don't know if anyone would claim that it was informed by the blues.

I don't want to make too much of an issue about this, and I really don't mean to spoil the party. It's just that I love the form, the music and the lyrics, and it's so easy to treat the whole genre as if it's a bunch of guys with medical conditions pre-fixed to their names howling about their women done gone. Just remember that Robert Johnson went down to the crossroads and sold his soul to the devil in exchange for the ability to play the blues for ten years.

Okay. I'll shut up now. Just had to vent.

---dr.M.

 

[Angeline]

Maybe it's semantics...

I don't want to make too much of an issue about this, and I really don't mean to spoil the party. It's just that I love the form, the music and the lyrics, and it's so easy to treat the whole genre as if it's a bunch of guys with medical conditions pre-fixed to their names howling about their women done gone. Just remember that Robert Johnson went down to the crossroads and sold his soul to the devil in exchange for the ability to play the blues for ten years.

Doc, it is affectionate teasing that--at least in my case--comes from a genuine love and respect for both the music and the culture (but I think you know that). I get your point all too well, and don't think the thought hasn't occurred to me that we've danced a mite close to the stereotype line. I've tried to stay honest to the source in this thread by introducing the blues in its many forms--and bearing in mind that blues is *not* just the birthright of the delta men--but their urban cousins like Little Walter, Jimmy Rushing, and Big Joe Turner, their sisters like Alberta Hunter and Sippie Wallace, and so on. Nor is blues limited to six strings--who is more legit than the great Langston Hughes, father of the Harlem Rennaisance or Gwendolyn Brooks, the first African American poet to win a Pulitzer Prize? Kevin Young, a great new African American poet, writes in this same tradition. Do these writers have less legitimate reason to draw on this aspect of their own culture in their art? Of course not. It's a matter of perspective to me, though maybe not to you. Are these folks singing traditional delta blues? No. Does that make their versions somehow less authentic? Not to me. And maybe part of my way to ensure that this thread doesn't slip into burnt cork and watermelon jokes is to drag these folks (and whomever else I find) in here to remind readers and potential posters that this is really about respect for the art and the culture that birthed it.

 

[Floater]

Re: The Deepest Blues

If we're gonna talk about the real blues, my vote would have to go to a song that doesn't even have words - Blind Willie Johnson's Dark Was The Night - Cold Was The Ground. The vocal is just a wordless moaning that still brings shivers to my spine. Recorded in 1927, and widely available.

Yes
Yes
Yes
Yes
Yes

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Re: Re: The Deepest Blues

If we're gonna talk about the real blues, my vote would have to go to a song that doesn't even have words - Blind Willie Johnson's Dark Was The Night - Cold Was The Ground. The vocal is just a wordless moaning that still brings shivers to my spine. Recorded in 1927, and widely available.

Yes
Yes
Yes
Yes
Yes

yeah. There comes a point in some of those older recordings where it is just so raw and primal that it is really painful to listen to. Like watching someone undergoing surgery without anesthetic.

It makes me wonder if that isn't what the power of the blues (and art?) is all about: providing a filter through which we can watch all this pain while staying out of it ourselves.

If the blues didn't have structure then it would be nothing more than screaming and wailing: like Yoko Ono at her bone-gnawing worst. Having to filter it through some structure kind of tames it and makes it bearable. I think that's why laconic wit is so important in blues as well: it takes the edge off the pain. It turns it into something maybe not sweet, but at least digestible.


---dr.M.

 

[The_Fool]

This thread needs a bump...