A look at some of the more remarkable items found during 40 years of collecting all manner of recordings. For information on saving these files, see the top box on the right.
Today's post is a continuation of last week's celebration of St. Valentine's Day, which of course is tomorrow. And here to look at the holiday from an unusual, rarely considered angle, is Rodd Keith, in his Film City/Rod Rogers days. Showing up on yellow vinyl, as seen above and below, "If Cupid Went on Strike" is a midtempo number, with some interesting Chamberlin voicing choices and lyrics which use the word "bitsy" four or five times, which is four or five times too much. Hopefully, the cruddy condition of this record doesn't impact your enjoyment:
The flip side "Can't You Spare Another Kiss", features another nice Chamberlin track (with a brief "clarinet" duet, at one point), and lyrics which also fit nicely into the Valentine's Day. One mildly interesting thing about this record is that while "Cupid" is credited to Rod Rogers and the Swinging Strings, "Another Kiss" is credited to "Rod Rogers with the Swinging Strings". Maybe "odd" is a better word for that observation than "interesting"...
The recent travelogue we've been on will be put on hold for at least the next two weeks, while I offer up my annual tribute to St. Valentine's Day. And what lucky young person wouldn't feel lightheaded and start to faint at the thought of being serenaded by Sterling's own smooth singing Norm Burns?
Here's Norm, with a tender waltz sung to his one-and-only, "My Lovely, Lovely Valentine". It seems very likely that Ruth Ekey wrote this song as a tribute to her husband (or husband-to-be), and I do wonder when I see such a name on a lyric, what the song-poet thought when she heard a male voice singing her song. Ah, well, hopefully Ruth and her beloved were captivated by Norm's dulcet tones.
As is sometimes the case when I offer up a seasonally appropriate song as the feature, the real winner is on the flip. In this case, I suspect that almost anyone reading and listening today will agree that "Democracy" is the more memorable of the two tunes on this 45.
I'm not saying "better", because I'm not that's the right adjective. "Weirder" certainly applies, as do several other words, including "unusually lengthy for a song-poem" - it's four minutes long! Rather than give a greatest-hits review of this unique set of lyrics and performance, I think I'll just let you enjoy it, enjoy it, enjoy it yourself. The more I hear this one, the more I think it might have been compilation worthy.
For my money, the best singer ever recorded, and that I've ever heard anywhere. No one comes close. His voice was the purest expression of joy, or sadness, or anger, or righteous indignation, or whatever else was called for. In addition, his singing was a natural extension of his speaking voice, unadorned by any embellishment, misguided training or showboating, and that's exactly the sort of singing we don't have enough of today. His voice is pure emotion, expressed directly. His voice is the sound of America. His voice is the sound of life being lived well.
And not only that, Pete was without question in my mind, the most important American musician of the 20th century. I'm not saying that based solely on his songwriting or performances - I wouldn't try to support that statement. What I mean is: looking at any prominent musician of the century, and the totality of what each of them did, in all areas, musical or otherwise, again, no one comes close. He was one of the most important Americans of the century, period.
My main intent here is to share some of my favorite Pete Seeger tracks, and I'm going to start that right here, with a sidebar a few songs down. For the most part, I'm not going to focus on the most famous songs Pete is associated with - those can be found in myriad places - but instead will feature the lesser-known songs that he recorded that resonate the most with me, with a few exceptions in chronological order. I suspect I own close to, if not more than 95% of the recordings that Pete released, either in their original formats or re-releases. These are my favorites.
Before starting that chronological ride, I want to start with the recording I consider not only Pete Seeger's finest moment, but one of the two or three greatest single tracks ever recorded. This is one of those perfect records that I could listen to multiple times a day without getting tired of it. It's found on an album recorded at the Weavers' reunion concerts at Carnegie Hall in 1963, but aside from some key instrumental backing from other members of the group (the double bass in particular is essential here), this is all Pete's show, or rather, Pete Seeger with an choir-by-audience numbering in the thousands.
Listen to how simply Pete suggests they sing with him, going into the second chorus, and how, by the end of the song, it's a towering massed vocal singing with him. It helps that Tom Paxton's "Ramblin' Boy" is an incomparable song, but the magic here is what Pete does with it, with his singularly wonderful voice and with the audience.
Now it's time to step back a further 17 years or so from 1963. Next up is a song recorded for a tiny label in the mid-1940's, at around age 25, along with several of his lefty compatriots. "Listen, Mr. Bilbo" is, most directly, an indictment of a truly awful human being, Theodore Bilbo, who was concurrently a member of the U.S. Senate and of the Ku Klux Klan. But if you overlook the specific reference in the title, and adjust the lyrics to include what some today's consider to be "scary foreigners", this song could just as well be used as an indictment of xenophobia in general, and of any number of today's politicians. The energy and emotion on this record are just unbeatable.
The history of the Weavers, which Pete formed with three like-minded musicians, is well known to many, and easy to find for those who aren't aware of them. Suffice it to say that they became hugely popular in 1950, but by 1953 had broken up after becoming pariahs thanks to the witch-hunts of the McCarthy era. At the end of 1955, they regrouped and appeared in concert at Carnegie Hall. From that concert come the three incomparable performances below.
First, this musical trip "Around the World". I love the energy of this performance, the good spirits, and of course, the Weavers' magic vocals:
Then, one of the most gorgeous melodies I've ever heard, that of an Indonesian lullaby, "Suliram", made even more lovely by the Weavers trademark and unique harmonic blend. When Pete takes the lead vocal part way through, his voice is tender, sweet and intoxicatingly beautiful. If you have a chance, look up the translation to these words into English - they make me tear up every time.
And perhaps the most popular melody that Pete ever brought to the US, that of "Wimoweh", heard here in a fairly accurate (vocally, anyway) recreation of the original 1939 South African 78. The vocal blend in the section from 1:04 to 1:19 is just stop-me-in-my-tracks gorgeous.
The Weavers returned to recording after that concert, with Pete remaining a part of the group for about two years, until he quit in disgust after the other three voted to sign on to sing a cigarette commercial (which ended up never being used, anyway). During that time, they made some wonderful studio and concert recordings. This is a favorite, a duet between Pete and Ronnie Gilbert on "The Wild Goose Grasses", with more of those amazing harmonies on the choruses:
While making periodic recordings and concert appearances with the Weavers, Pete recorded extensively on his own, both in the studio and in live performance. Folkways Records released dozens of Seeger albums during the '50's and early '60's, sometimes more than a half-dozen a year. From one of those albums, here's one of my favorite of Pete's overtly political records, a union shouter, recorded with a chorus of friends, including a young Mary Travers, "We Shall Not Be Moved":
Many of the remaining live tracks, below, display the thing about about seeing Pete Seeger in concert that many fans loved the most - his ability to get a crowd of people singing together, often in three part harmony, and his near insistence that those in attendance give it a try. At best, this resulted in soul-affirming moments of beauty, and even breathtakingly gorgeous choral sounds. The track I posted at the top, "Ramblin' Boy" is a wonderful example of Pete's voice with a audience full of singers, but there are many other great recordings of this type, as well.
The following track, "Deep Blue Sea", is the first track on the first Pete Seeger solo album I bought. The recording quality is relatively poor, but the performance shines through, including a great and unusual exhortation from the singer, a dejected "I hardly hear ya", which works wonders at getting the reluctant to start singing:
At some point in the 1950's, Folkways Records released a multi-artist boxed set of "Songs of the Civil War". From that set come two songs which each contain one of my favorite Seeger vocals. First, this rousing version of "John Brown's Body":
And this gorgeous, achingly touching rendition of "Tenting Tonight":
A sidebar here.
It is worth noting - no, it is required to note here - that, while almost all of what I've shared so far was being recorded - indeed, while Pete made at least five albums with the Weavers, and perhaps three dozen albums for Folkways, including hundreds of tracks, he was, the entire time, facing the wrath of the U.S. Government, including what seemed likely to be a likely prison term, essentially for refusing to reveal his private thoughts.
Indeed, the most significant moment of his life I can revisit is what happened when he appeared before the House Un-American Activities Committee, to answer charges that he was a communist, among other things.
Many others had cowardly turned over names of friends and former friends to the committee, while even more had reasonably taken the fifth, which had imperiled if not ended their careers. Pete took a riskier, and flat out ballsier step, one I don't believe anyone else took - he essentially pleaded the First Amendment, telling the panel that, as an American, he had the right to believe whatever he wanted to, and in addition, was entitled to be free from the need to be compelled to reveal those thoughts in such a situation as he was then in. Basically, he told the committee that, under the constitution, his beliefs were none of their business. In 1950's America, those were daring things to say. Read his entire testimony here - it is bracing.
And for this, facing the charges brought, he could have faced a decade in prison - he was actually found guilty and sentenced, although the ten counts of one year each were to be served concurrently - and was under the threat of this sentence for nearly half a decade. It's a good thing he didn't have to serve this term in prison, but a shame that the case was thrown out on a technicality, as it might have been (had it been decided correctly) a nice precedent to prevent or halt similar Congressional abuses in the future.
But all of that was going on while Pete toured the country, spreading the word that through music can come peace and brotherhood, and, not coincidentally, being the key figure in the flowering of the folk revival of that era in the process.
And now, back to the countdown.
In the early 1960's, Pete Seeger was signed to Columbia Records, and he remained there for a decade. Buried in the middle of an otherwise typically vocal album from early in that tenure, was one of the loveliest pieces of guitar music I've ever heard. I spent years trying to learn to play even a fumbling version of this twelve-string masterpiece, "Living in the Country":
Pete's most famous non-Weavers album is undoubtedly the one recorded at Carnegie Hall in 1963. The entire album could be highlighted here, but this is one of my favorite moments, a song sung with a group of young "Freedom Singers", and capturing various political issues of the moment, "If You Miss Me At the Back of the Bus":
Around the same time as that recording, a performance at the Newport Folk Festival was captured, and this song from the concert was released. To me, it is among the prime examples of Pete's ability to lead a crowd in group harmony - as he first encourages them to sing, then goes over each part, then, realizing it should be in a higher key, moves his capo before launching into an inspired rendition of "Oh, Mary, Don't You Weep". The spoken opening is a great demonstration of how Pete's singing voice was just an extension of his way of speaking, and the moments here in which he sings a single high note over the harmonizing audience... well, that's something he often did, and it was always an amazing sound, rarely better than it is here.
As the battles of the '60's were fading into history, and the Vietnam War was winding down, Pete released his final album for Columbia. This track was little noticed at the time (indeed, as was the entire album), and it's very telling to realize how much stronger the reaction might have been if Pete had released his bouncy little tribute to the wisdom of Ho Chi Minh in 1968, rather than in 1973. As it is, "Uncle Ho" still contains a lesson which the US (as well as other governments) still refuses to learn, "If a Man Will Stand for His Own Land, He's Got the Strength of Ten".
In 1980, Pete released a full concert on a three record set, a concert and album package meant to demonstrate the art of leading the singalong. This is Pete's greatest album by a wide margin, and it reaches its zenith on the following song, where Pete turns an auditorium full of strangers into a full throated choir, singing in many-part harmony, until Pete is simply accompanying them on his guitar. The last few moments of "Run Come See the Sun" are perhaps the most sublime in Pete's entire catalog, despite barely even featuring his wonderful voice. If the sound of this track doesn't move you, then I'm not sure you and I have the same definition of "music".
Around 1984, Pete joined forces with Ronnie Gilbert, Arlo Guthrie and Holly Near, formed their first initials into the group name HARP, and played a few shows under that name. From the ensuing album comes another sweet singalong. The key moment here comes near the end - and I won't spoil the surprise - after Pete observes that once you've really learned the song, the song's almost over, he makes a more touching comment. Here's "Somos El Barco":
To my mind, no collection of Pete Seeger tracks would be complete without one of his performances of "Abiyoyo". Taking a traditional African song as its start, Pete built around this tune a story of how a boy who only wanted to sing was banished from his land, until that far off land was threatened by an ogre, at which point the boy and his father triumphed over the ogre with music and a little magic. Replace the boy with Pete himself, and the ogre with the witch-hunting McCarthyites and HUAC, and what you have in essence is Pete's own story. This is the version of the story that my kids always preferred, from a performance in the early 1990's, when Pete had perfected the story and told it with just the right amounts of scariness, tenseness and, later, joy:
And finally, moving back to 1974, here's my second favorite Seeger track, a performance with his great friend Fred Hellerman on the folk standard "Banks of Marble". The track here, with banjo, guitar and piano, goes into a rolling rhythm, as their voices harmonize as in the old days, and they sing a song which is, sadly, yet to lose its meaning - it is as relevant today as when it was written, about 65 years ago. To quote a well known Seeger song: "when will we ever learn?".
Well, not quite finally. I'd like to pay my own vocal tribute to Pete. Of all the songs I learned from Pete, this is the one I have sung the most often. It's not one of his own songs - it's called "Way Out There", and it was written by Bob Nolan of the Sons of the Pioneers, and I learned it from an album Pete did with Arlo Guthrie. This spur of the moment performance is from 1990, and features my great pal Stu and me. After some initial silly comments heard at the start, we get right into the song, and aside from a few lyrical flubs, I think it's a rather nice performance.
And here's my prized possession - a photographic memento of one of the two times I got to have a conversation with Pete, in this case in the late 1990's, following a folk festival fundraiser which had gone on about four hours (hence the glazed look in my eyes...).
Thanks, Pete, for the myriad ways that you colored our lives, made it a more beautiful, musical world, help open our eyes to so many things, and worked to make America and the world a better place. And in a more personal note, I simply can't imagine how my life would have been different, although I know it would have been for the much worse, had I not come to find you, your music, and your life story. Thanks.
Our trip to locations around the world continues today with a delightful trip to Italy with our one-man-band friend who for a time was known as "The Real Pros". I've no doubt that, when this conglomeration is mentioned, most song-poem collectors think of the glory days of the MSR crew, who, on their days off from MSR, took over the anonymous role of Cinema's "Real Pros" by about 1973.
But as I've said before, I'm much partial to the nameless man who's work is featured on the earliest Cinema sides. He sounds a bit like Gene Marshall at times (and, as friends have noted, he sometimes sounds like your humble blogger my own self), and he's usually accompanied solely by one of those all-in-one keyboards which were so common 40 years ago (although not, as you'll hear, on this record, where there is a guitarist present).
This record also has the distinction of having the lowest label number of any Cinema release yet documented, even lower than this truly atrocious release.
All that is sort of besides the point, but I guess I like to type. The real news is that this record, "Fun in Napoli", is a truly enjoyable little ditty, with corny but good natured lyrics, sung in a stereotypical accent which might be obnoxious, were the entire enterprise not so fun and lighthearted. With Lou Monte, I tend to find this sort of thing unlistenable, but the lo-fi and low-tech nature of this record makes it irresistible to me.
The flip side of this record is called "The Magic of a Song", and while I can heartily agree that there is magic in many, many songs, including the one I just featured before this paragraph, I find none of that magic, or even interest, in this record, behind a minor bit of enjoyment in some of the guitar playing. Ah, well - it's probably asking too much to routinely find two songs to enjoy on one song-poem record.
Actually, one of the more interesting things about this record is the production credit, a rarity in itself on a song-poem record, but especially here, in that each side lists "the author" as a co-producer. A similar credit appears on that other early Cinema release I linked, above. That seems unlikely to begin with, but since the two songs were written by two different song-poets, it seems virtually impossible. I'm also intrigued by the credit to "Action Music" publishers, and wonder if that doesn't indicate a previously unknown link to the Fable/Film City family of labels, which had a subsidiary called "Action Records".
All of that speculation interests me considerably more than does "The Magic of a Song", but here it is, anyway:
Well, we all had fun last week doing the polka in Arizona, but now it's time to go to a region where polka is something of a local religion - Wisconsin. And here's our friend Rodd Keith/Rod Rogers, along with his pals in the Swinging Strings (as the folks at Film City termed Rodd's five nimble, talented fingers on this recording), in a peppy request, "Whisk Me Off to Wisconsin".
This has everything I look for in a one man band Chamberlin vocal - an upbeat tempo, some interesting choices for voicings on that keyboard - especially the organ-esque fills, the choral 'ooh's' and the string section on the brief instrumental break. The handling of the key change near the end reminds me of a similar turn around in an all time favorite of mine "Go Daddy Go". See if you don't agree!
In comparison to "Whisk Me", or even if heard on its own, the flip side "Peace of Mind", is a turgid piece of music, with Rodd at his slimiest and smarmiest. I could do without this record entirely - it seems to go on too long, even at barely over 90 seconds.
As promised last week, I'm planning to take a tour around the country via song-poems, and that trip continues today! If I mentioned American cities and areas which come to mind when you think of Polkas, one would likely think of Chicago, Milwaukee, or all of Wisconsin, or perhaps the entire upper midwest.
However, one place not likely to come immediately to mind is the home of today's polka. See below:
Yes, Arizona. And yes, it's our friends Cara Stewart and Lee Hudson, along with the Polka-Cats (as well as an uncredited assist from Jeff Lawrence), with a delightful pair of polkas, perhaps the best song-poem record I've shared here in many weeks - or at least the equal of "I Liked the Old Year" from a month or so again.
Today's record comes to us via Lee Hudson's song-poem factory, but the tracks were leased out to the tiny Lectron label of Detriot, MI (another place I don't really associate with polkas). Lectron seems to have been the house label for the various song-poets named on this record - all three of them show up as the writers on another known Lectron record.
First, as mentioned, it's off to Arizona, for the Arizona Polka. This is a lovely little record, with a lilting melody, sweet violins, a bouncy rhythm, a neat instrumental break and thoroughly appropriate polka lyrics. There are even some nice backing vocals from the aformentioned Jeff Reynolds, including some well placed "yippees" and the like.
As much as I enjoy that record - and really, really do, I like the flip side, The Whirleybird Polka, quite a bit more. I adore this arrangement, and the detail put into it. As much as it resembles "The Arizona Polka", there are little touches here that put this one over the top, particularly Jeff and Cara in the backing vocals offering verbal encourgement here and there ("'Til You're Full of Pep"), and "yee-haws" in other places.
Perhaps it because the backing vocals remind me of the vocal comments offered up by Jeff Lawrence in between a few lines within the backing track of Doc Nut, one of my favorite song-poems ever. And of course, Cara Stewart is near incomparable among the vocalists of the song-poem world - this record features a typically sexy, upbeat, sweet and sly vocal. She's one of the mysteries of the song-poem world, and I sure wish I knew who and where she is/was.
Can you believe it's been five years ago this week that I began this project - the years have flown by, helped along at times by the accidental or surprising wonderfulness found in certain song poems, and perhaps dragged out by some of the lesser material I've shared, at other times!
Thanks to everyone who reads these postings, listens to/shares these tracks and/or offers up comments. It's been a great opportunity to share the wealth of my 17 years and counting of song-poem collecting (and, when the spirit moves me, to offer up something else from my 40 or so years of collecting records! Again, THANKS!
I find that it's been three full months since I featured a Gene Marshall record, certainly the longest that I've gone between postings featuring that golden throat majesty. And here's one which by rights (i.e. the quality of the lyrics) should be just another ho-hum song-poem release - and I wouldn't be surprised if some find it to be just that. But I think it rises a bit above the material, thanks to another stellar vocal performance by Gene, and, especially, a really engaging backing track by the Preview house band.
If you can get past the goopy backing singers at the start, you'll hear a nice, soulful track under Gene's strong reading of the lyrics to "I Had a Dream". The drummer, in particular, makes this track for me - in fact, I've often wondered who provided the frequently excellent drumming on these late '60's/early '70's Preview sides. The guitarist is also doing some really nice things, and I appreciate the piano fills here and there, too. All in all, a much nicer record than it could have been, due to the superior talents of everyone involved.
On the flip side, we have the rather bland stylings of Fred Flagg. Mr.Flagg turns up on a dozen or more Preview waxings, all of which appear to be from between 1968 and 1971, initially billed as Freddie, then Fred. "My Own Home State" has precious little to recommend it (is the statement that "I've Been Everywhere" really justified by listing about a half-dozen midwestern and southern states one has visited?).
But this record does remind me of ALL of the other songs about states and cities which are found on the song-poem 45's in my collection, and I think maybe I'll make a point of doing a song-poem travelogue (as long as the material is interesting), over the next several weeks.
As the year comes to an end - the fifth year of this project - I wanted to squeeze one more posting in. No time for typing, got a party to host, just wanted to offer up a decent Rodd Keith offering, with the ironic title of "Lucky Guy" - based on the lyric, the protagonist thinks that's far from an accurate description for his life situation. Have a listen.
A far more pedestrian entry is found on the flip side, in the song "My Sweet Michelle". Sorry about the increasingly cruddy sound quality as this one goes on...
What U.S. company's name is more synonymous with Christmas than Hallmark? With their ornaments, commercials, decorations, TV specials, etc. etc., they could be called The Christmas People. I'll leave it to each of you to decide how good or bad a thing that is.
In honor of the Hallmark people, for Christmas Eve, here is their near-namesake company, The Halmark Records label, and two Christ-tastic offerings. On one side, heard below, you can hear about "The Christmas Message", in a typically stultifying arrangement and performance. Interestingly, just this month I received an MP3 in e-mail, of another Halmark number, titled "A Christmas Dream", set to the same backing track, and featuring what sounds like the same singer. This one, if anything, is even worse than "Christmas Dream", although it's a close race.
If you're still awake, you can reward yourself with the wonders of "The Bible Message". Not content to stop the proceedings, with a spoken word passage (as they so often did), this vocal performance contained on this "song" features nothing but narration, a sort of "God's Greatest Hits", tripping lightly through a series of generic summing ups bible stories, focusing primarily on the story of Jesus.
All in all, the ideal music for the opening of presents, whether your tradition starts as the sun goes down tonight, or as the sun comes up tomorrow.
As we ramp up to Christmas, here's another song for the season. This is an early Sterling Records release, early enough that Lew Tobin was still taking primary credit for the performance, above the singer (this is record #318 - by the mid 300's, he had discontinued this practice). But the focus really should be on my main man, Norm Burns (or, as credited here, Norman Burns).
I wish I could report that this record, "The Toy Shop Mouse", was the sort that could have found its way into the hearts of millions, if only given the chance, and competed for time on Christmas radio stations, mall programming, and perhaps even TV viewers to its animated special. But it's not that sort. It's fairly tedious. The story is told in minute detail, over nearly five minutes, building up to a punchline that was no doubt supposed to be heartwarming, but actually just captures a mice-related annoyance.
Still, it is Christmassy, takes place in Santa's workshop, and concludes with Santa's ride on Christmas Eve, AND Norm sings it, so it can't be all bad!
This record came to me in a sleeve with an inscription from the song-poet, one which curiously is mostly about how to make sure the record plays without skipping (a problem I didn't actually find I had to deal with, with this record:
The flip side of the record also features Lew and Norman, in a story of prospecting "Way Out in Arizona". The melody hews dangerously close to "This Land is Your Land" at times, which I guess is not wholly inappropriate, given the focus on one part of that Land. I generally love the reverb on these Sterling records anyway, and I really like the way that the reverb here makes the drumbeat echo so much as to sound like a chugging train.
On the other hand, a close listen to the lyrics will demonstrate that there is no story here - the writer introduces us to a prospector, then, for the rest of the lyric, tells us how great Arizona is, and how much he'd like to be there.
Just when time pressures looked to keep me from having the time to record, improve the sound as necessary and scan, from out of the ether of the internet (or perhaps it's a series of tubes - I've heard that's what it is), came an wonderful two sided hit produced by our friends at Film City. Since this was offered up by a correspondent, and is not from my collection, I don't have label scans, but I think the material itself will prove its worth.
And I'll leave it to each of you to determine if you deem this a song-poem. As it is sung by a child, and written by another person with the same last name, it seems likely that this was written by the singer's parent, or at least a family member, and then produced by the fine folks at Film City, in what seems to have been one of their last releases (#4091, in a series that is not known to have run beyond #4200, to my knowledge).
So was it a song-poem in the sense that someone at Film City wrote the music, or is it not so much, in that perhaps they only arranged the backing for a song which was already fully written? There's really no way to tell, I suppose.
Both sides are quite well done, but while one song is better suited for today (being a Christmas song), I'm going to lead to the one I much prefer, which would be a better fit in two weeks, given that it's a look back at a year which is about to end.
The singer is Beth-Anne Haves, accompanied, of course, by the Film City Orchestra (aka The Chamberlin, very likely operated by Rodd Keith). I really enjoy "I Liked the Old Year", both because I enjoy hearing untrained, naturally on-key kids singing as much as just about anything in the world, and also because the lyric is inspired. While a few of the lines sound nothing like anything a kid would say ("it gave me time to grow"), far more of them sound to me not only like a kid's thoughts, but exactly how a kid might phrase them. And on top of all that is the wonderful Chamberlin arrangement, featuring a variety of voicings, all of which fit the song perfectly:
The flip side, "Oh Dear Santa Claus", is bittersweet, and more than a bit maudlin, but still most excellent in arrangement and performance. Last Christmas was great, but daddy's has left the family in the time since, and all she wants is for him to return. Again, the wizardry on the Chamberlin stands out here.
This is another one of those weeks when time is exceptionally short around our place, so I'm not going to go into any great detail about today's offering. Suffice it to say that it is not a song-poem release, but a demo on the Globe label, sent to the customer, most likely to encourage her to pay for the full band treatment.
Here we have Sammy Marshall unplugged, with just a piano and a tasty little 90 second song-poem-ette nugget, titled "Lost My Independence":
Here is the flip side, by one of the co-writers of the a-side, but with none of the clever lyrics or jaunty sound of "Independence". This rather morose number is titled "Sometimes I Wonder":
I'm the father of two amazing young adults, married to the most wonderful woman in the world, and I work in the mental health field. I play several instruments and record my own music. I'm a long time record collector, hoarder of unusual, rare or unique recorded sound, musical, spoken word or other, and am glad to have found this outlet to share some of my favorite parts of it with others.
