Week 9: Leadbelly

There was a lot of information for this week in terms of reading and in terms of listening and video. However, all of this information gave me a deeper look into Leadbelly's life and how Lomax fit into that life. One part of the reading that stuck out to me was Alan's introduction into the song collecting line of work that his father was in. He realized that by collecting these songs, he wasn't just a folk song collector, but he was a messenger for the masses. He helped these tenant farmers (a great visual that was offered in Chapter 2: Road Scholars) communicate to the broader world. They were not longer the unheard majority, but they now had a voice. In this spirit, Alan didn't stop when he hit barriers. When he couldn't get into the first prison he wanted to visit to find songsters, he tried again and again. He wrote letters beforehand to guarantee prison entry, instead of being shut down when he got to the gate.

Huddie Ledbetter was described as the King of the 12 String; the name Leadbelly came from his life of toughness, his confidence, pride and intelligence. Just like Mississippi John Hurt, he learned instruments as a child. Similarly, he worked on farms and in the industry, doing odd jobs and performing here and there. However, Leadbelly wanted to get paroled to work for Lomax; Lomax was hesitant to take on a challenge such as Leadbelly, and he didn't have the means to help Leadbelly get out of jail.

The one part I didn't like about Leadbelly's story was how he was described in the media. They called him the "Murderous Minstrel" and he was skilled with the "knife and guitar." I did not appreciate these descriptions because it highlighted his past rather than what he was doing at the time. Sure, those headlines serve as a more hard-hitting story, but it sells Leadbelly short. People focus on the fact that he was a violent man, that he committed crimes, but that is not why people are fascinated by him -- they should be focusing more on his craft than the fact that he had been in jail. I suppose these are opinions of the modern time; Leadbelly seemed to be pleased by all the headlines.

Lyrics:

Yonder comes Miss Rosie. How in the world do you know?
Well, I know her by the apron and the dress she wore.
Umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand,
Well, I'm callin' that Captain, "Turn a-loose my man."

Let the Midnight Special shine her light on me.
Oh let the Midnight Special shine her ever-lovin' light on me.

When you gets up in the morning, when that big bell ring.
You go marching to the table, you meet the same old thing.
Knife and fork are on the table, ain't nothing in my pan.
And if you say a thing about it, you have a trouble with the man.

Let the Midnight Special shine her light on me.
Oh let the Midnight Special shine her ever-lovin' light on me.

If you ever go to Houston, boy, you better walk right,
And you better not squabble and you better not fight.
Benson Crocker will arrest you, Jimmy Boone will take you down.
You can bet your bottom dollar that you're penitentary bound.

Let the Midnight Special shine her light on me.
Oh let the Midnight Special shine her ever-lovin' light on me.

Well, jumping Little Judy, she was a mighty fine girl.
She brought jumping to this whole round world.
Well, she brought it in the morning just a while before day.
Well, she brought me the news that my wife was dead.
That started me to grieving, whooping, hollering, and crying.
And I began to worry about my very long time.

Let the Midnight Special shine her light on me.
Oh let the Midnight Special shine her ever-lovin' light on me.

For this week's project, I decided on Midnight Special. I believe the song refers to a passenger train. This passenger train is a symbol of the hope for escape -- when a train passes by, it may spark the thought of it as a way to go home. In the song, every day is the same: everything is in the same place, same routine, no food in the pan. But he can't complain about it, or there would be consequences. It's a life of following the rules, where the law stares a man down to be on his best behavior. I liked the reference to Jumping (little) Judy in the song -- how she gave sad news; she is also an "evil" character in Leadbelly's "Jumpin' Judy," where she treats him bad as well.

I enjoy the lyric "Let the Midnight Special shine her light on me/Oh let the Midnight Special shine her ever-lovin' light on me." It suggests an imagery of a train passing by. That light is consistently there; reliable at a certain time -- "ever-lovin'" light, particularly. Light is also a symbol of hope, the future, something good. Light gives brightness to the dark, hope in a sad place.

Week 8: Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music

I found this week's reading very interesting -- reading the summaries about each song's lyrics was the most entertaining of the read. My favorite one is probably "Gaudy woman lures child from playfellows; stabs him as victim dictates message to parents" because it is so bizarre. It's such a strange idea when condensed into short clauses, but it probably holds a heavier emotion or message when listening to the entirety of the song. Another one that caught my attention was "Father finds daughter's body with note attached when railroad boy mistreats her." Again, it is so strange, but this one in particular sounds like the beginning of a crime or revenge-driven film. This plays well into a ballad; telling a story through music.
Many of the songs address the sins of women and suggest their tragic deaths, many of which were not their fault, but they were mistreated by their significant other. Most, if not all, of the songs have sad outcomes: losing life, farm, crops, love, jobs; with themes of regret or deception. I thought it quite strange that there are songs about unemployment, deaths of presidents and politics. Nowadays, there aren't songs like these -- so reading even the summaries about these songs was strange.

Fifty Miles of Elbow Room
By Rev. F.W. McGee
Lots of room for you and me on the other side.
Starts and ends with a chorus. Congregational style singing; voices overpower the piano, violin and clapping; lyrics hard to understand from the main duet; layered and free singing.

Fishing Blues
By Henry Thomas
Can catch more fish than you; going fishing.
Solo singer; features some type of woodwind instrument; quick upbeat tempo.
Discography: Texas Worried Blues: Completed Recorded Works 1927-1929

Spike Driver Blues
By Mississippi John Hurt
John Henry was a steel driver; he's gone.
Light guitar; ends abruptly.
Discography: Avalon Blues: The Complete 1928 OKeh Recordings

Project 7: Louis Collins

Lyrics:

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,
To see her son Louis leavin' home
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,
To see her son Louis leavin' home
The angels laid him away
Oh, Bob shot once and Louis shot too,
Shot poor Collins, shot him through and through
The angels laid him away

Oh, kind friends, oh, ain't it hard?
To see poor Louis in a new graveyard
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

Oh, when they heard that Louis was dead
All the people they dressed in red
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,
To see her son Louis leavin' home
The angels laid him away
The angels laid him away,
They laid him six feet under the clay
The angels laid him away

This song is very interesting -- I enjoyed the lyrics. Mrs. Collins stood by idly, weeping and moaning, as her own son was leavin' home when the angels laid him away. There was nothing she could do but watch. The way the song is sung and the fact that the angels "laid him away," as opposed to buried him or took him, emphasizes a slow progression of events. It sounds peaceful because no one really protests the facts; things just happen and people can't fight it.
I kind of see myself as Mrs. Collins, in some strange way. I used my art this week as a sort of release for my frustrations and I am happy with what came out of it. Not sure if I completely love the text, so I left it in a temporary manner.

I quite enjoyed Jas Olbrecht's biography on Mississippi John Hurt. It painted him in a very bright light -- he came from humble beginnings, working on the farm and helping his mother in a small town of under 100 people. He worked very hard on his own family farm, and also offered his services on neighboring farms. I had just learned about the WPA in another class, so it is interesting to see the overlap between that class and this class. It was interesting that Jas mentioned that Hurt's music is a souvenir of his childhood. It is an interesting idea -- that we never forget our childhood; in those formative years, we learn so much about ourselves and the people around us shape who we become. John Hurt grew up in a rural area, helping people, starting from the ground up and earning his way to the top. He was also described as "perfect" and "Christ-like"; somehow I believe that is related to his childhood experiences, helping others and perfecting his craft when he had time.

Project 6: Down By the Salley Gardens

Lyrics:

Oh down by the Salley Gardens, my love and I did meet.
She passed the Salley Gardens, with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish, with her I did not agree.

In a field down by the river, my love and I did stand
An on my leaning shoulder, she placed her snow-white hand.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish, and now I am full of tears.

Oh down by the Salley Gardens, my love and I did meet.
She passed the Salley Gardens, with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish, with her I did not agree.


I find it very interesting that this ballad, like all other folk songs, traveled by mouth and therefore deviated from the original source. The original source is William Butler Yeats' poem with the same title. However, upon further research, I found that Yeats had based his writings on what he remembered from another song that an old lady sang in a village. Yeats had originally named his poem: "An Old Song Re-Sung." But this begs the question of where that old lady got it from -- had she written it? Or had she learned it from her father, friend, just by chance? This got me thinking about if ideas are ever really new -- when ideas come to us, inspiration for that had probably come from something else. There must be a source, but how do we know exactly what that source is? In today's world, especially, we are already surrounded by so many types of media, technologies, sounds and sights; how do we know if an idea is truly ours? Our "new" ideas are a combination of what we already know and our current worldview, facts and pre-existing ideas lightly filtered through our own minds. Intellectual property and intellectual copyright is very hard to pinpoint and justify, if it can be pinpointed at all.

I appreciated that the reading (Mike Yates on Cecil Sharp) created a sort of a timeline or diary, if you will; I found it much easier to understand the course of events. It is very impressive that Cecil took on such a big project, almost by himself, getting sponsorships, getting sick, yet still continuing on his mission. Just the passion behind that is monumental, but his contribution to American music is even greater. One of the lines that caught my attention was: "the cult of singing traditional songs is far more alive than it is in England." In today's context, cult immediately brings up cult films and cult TV shows with strong fan bases and followings. Cult is a strong word, but also fitting for the tight group of musicians from the Appalachians who preserved these traditional songs. I also thought the age gap between the English versus American singers was interesting -- in England, the singers were elderly, while American singers could have been as young as 15. Perhaps this was one of the reasons that the tradition was more "alive" in America.