| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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2. Prewar Blues, aka, Honey, Where You Been So Long?, is an archives of blues recordings stretching from the 1920s to today. Includes tons of out-of-print rarities, as well as almost every version of St. James Infirmary Blues and Stagger Lee (although, sadly, not all of the Stagger Lee links work). You have to hear Lonnie Johnson's Death Valley Is Only Halfway to My House. |
i've heard many versions of "st. james...", but i was finally inspired to learn to play it on guitar when i heard 86 year old doc watson perform it live. when i'm in a hospital dying, that's one of the songs i want to play. |
Do you know "Death Valley is Only Halfway to My House"? There's a repeating guitar phrase in there that's really pretty. I don't know if others would agree that it's the saddest blues song ever, as that website claims (Ida Cox's "Coffin Blues" is pretty dang sad, as is Ma Rainey's "Sweet Rough Man," for different reasons), but it's a good one. If there's a Heaven when I die, I'll sing like Ma Rainey. |
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i've heard a lonnie johnson version of "death valley" but i can't remember the guitar riff. |
I'll have to look for "A Handful of Laurel." See if you can dig up Lonnie Johnson, um, so to speak. I'll see if I can get a hold of my mother, hum the riff for her, and have her tell me what notes they are. There are a few intervals within it that strike my naive ear as unusual in a blues riff. |
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Okay, this might not be right on pitch, but the riff goes something like (always descending down the scale with one exception): a g f e c b flat a f (same f as before) f (one octave lower) (strumming f major, with some ornamentation) The first note is a quarter note (2 beats) and the rest are eighth notes (1 beat) until that last F (hold it). It's played pretty fast, too. It's that E in there that sounds so interesting -- you'd expect a D. |
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But ... I haven't heard "mixolydian" or "minor pentatonic with a flat 7 and added flat 5th" since my mummie died in 1966. She was 42, a pianist who sat as a little kid on the bench with ella fitzgerald and louie Armstrong (though neither at the same time, andi only heard her stories of these things) at my great uncle's club Libatore's in Elmira NY long before either ella or LA became known as greats. I unfortunately do not have the music gene. It was only after she died that i took seriously to the piano. Now, nothing. you two rock. thanks for jogging a really old memory. |
Droopy jogged my old memory, too -- I remember learning about mixolydian (and ionic and doric, etc.) modes when I was I'm fixated on Lonnie Johnson's rebellious E. Did he know he was breaking tradition? Did he do it on purpose? Did he just think it sounded cool? Did others hear him and get inspired? |
I think the theory classes and the practical application (we collectively revised scores and wrote music and arranged stuff for the band, most of which had to be rescued by the teacher), prepared me to read Godel Escher Bach the eternal golden braid on (?) what would the topic be?? and later Hofsetter's and dennet's Mind's Eye on artificial intelligence. All of it was a mystery to me. My mother could play piano organ and just about everything: she was by day an elementary school music teacher, and by night the director of high school musicals. Imagine a bunch of high school kids doing the Nutcracker in Appalachia in the 50"s. She was pretty amazing. |
actually, i don't think lonnie johnson was necessarily breaking a tradition. i don't think there was a set-in-stone blues tradition when lonnie first started playing. according to his bio he was from new orleans and lived there during the golden age of jazz. he played with armstrong, bessie smith, and duke ellington. he apparently pioneered the role of the single-note solo guitar in jazz and he was probably the one who influenced all of the later blues greats. |
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Droopy, when we both have acquired an album (or its equivalent), we should arrange to listen to it at the same time. :) I've been reading today about Stagolee (Stagger Lee, Stack-o-lee, etc.), who was a real person (I did not know this). Lee Shelton killed Billy Lyons during a fight over a hat with a .44 on Morgan St. in St. Louis in 1895. (Very interestingly, although Old Lee's name changes so often across the 200+ versions of this song, these facts often appear accurately in many of the versions I checked out. Even Nick Cave, who added some heavy homoerotic tension between Lee and Billy in his song, got Billy's name part right and gives Stagger Lee a .45 [close enough].) In the 1930s(?), Shelton's house was the only building on his block that hadn't been razed, and new owners bought it and turned into a music club, without knowing the house's history. |
I've traded a lot of gold, but managed to keep the silly ring. Dunno. |
i have a recording of jelly roll morton doing a blues song where, at the end, mentions stagger lee and what i always thought was billy lyman. i'll have to look into that. |
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tequila shots on way. vows tequila shots to bar tequila shots tequila shots some weird american food margaritas. moonit falls down excellent. but seriously, I am thinking of the red rock canyon; rather than elvis. |
Is there a date yet? |
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I thought it went: He will eat your chicken He will eat your pie He will eat your wife out on the sly And you know, that would make sense. A nice parallel structure, there. I approve. But today I noticed that "eat your" in the first two lines is pronounced "eacher", while the third line doesn't have that "CH" sound. So she's actually singing: He will eat your chicken He will eat your pie He will lead your wife out on the sly What a let down. |
sometime in the past, i remember posting the lyrics to bessie smith's "gimme a pigfoot (and a bottle of beer)". (bessie and minnie were contemporaries.) i included a line that comes at the end of the song: "slay me 'cause i'm full of gin". no less of a personage than nelly accused me of "bowdlerizing bessie" - implying it should obviously be "lay me". i said that i've listened to it countless times, and that the version i have clearly has bessie saying sssssssslay me! it made me think: did the phrase "lay", meaning have sex, even exist in the 30s? the same with "eat" to mean cunnilingus. i have a book of old tijuana bibles from the 30s to the 50s; it includes a glossary of terms used. "eat dick" appears, but not the other way around. in fact, one commentary on an early comic says that there was a distaste for that sort of thing even in porn - cunnilingus wasn't "for real men". besides, one of the great things about those early jazz/blues was the double-entendre. i once went to a show at jubilee theater (black repertory theater of fort worth) were there was a show about a blues/jazz singer whose name escapes me (because possibly i've had a few too many and also i'm too lazy to try to dig up her cd in my cabinet). the point is: during the show, i was singled out for a version of "handy man" - a wonderful double-entendre song that was sung directly to me. it was great. |
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while there, i remembered spider's and my agreement up there. unfortunately, sumter was fresh out of lonnie johnson. he promised to track some down for me. sadly, i could probably do a better job myself online; and cheaper, too, because he sells his stuff at sometimes 3 times what you'd pay on amazon. i bought a 2 CD set of early lightnin' hopkins and a pigmeat markham album. sumter liked my choices. then i bought some martini fixins and went home. i'm enjoying my purchases, auditory and potable, right now. |
learned from the movies. never heard of the tomato sauce injunction. was not too impressed with Bourbon Street last time there. listening to the bugs crawling across the floor in the silence of the morning, warm and plentiful. |
I told him, "No no no. You do not just wing Dead Hour Soup. You have to plan. Look at you, you can't bake bread off the top of your head, and you will need a list of all the meats that go into the stew." A small old man -- who may or may not have been our grandfather -- gave us a lump of dough and told us to bake it in a brown paper bag which had an opening of 17" in circumference. Then I went to a drawer that was full of meat files: thin slices of a hundred kinds of meat stored flat in clear plastic bags. I was flipping through, and there was roast beef, salami, speck (this German meat they eat in Italy...and Germany, I presume), [something I don't remember], and Sheriff of Nottingham. I was surprised by the Sheriff of Nottingham, so I pulled out the file to look at it more closely. It was a pale color, like turkey, and I thought, "Is this....human flesh?" I wasn't horrified, just curious. Then it occurred to me that this was just another kind of roast beef, a special kind, and it even started to look more roast beef; it was turning a darker brown as I held it up to the light. Then the dream shifted. A lot of things happened that I won't bother to record here. My brother was once again a little boy, and I could hear my parents talking about him in another room. My father was saying he had given up trying to discipline him...he had washed his hands. Then the dream shifted again and my brother and I were in the backseat of a car on a very snowy night. My father was outside and somehow contrived to send the car spinning down the long driveway -- he did this because he thought it would be fun for us. I quickly became terrified that we were going to crash into something, and I tried to scramble into the driver's seat so I could hit the breaks. The dream shifted again and my brother and I were riding a tractor past a small park in the city. It was more an empty field of grass than a typical park, surrounded on all sides by a stone wall, and about an acre in size. Suddenly there was a buffalo and a woolly mammoth fighting in front of us in the park. I knew we were witnessing something mystical, like these two animals represented something (maybe the spirits of two ages clashing), but I was confused by how fake the animals' fur looked, like the fur of stuffed animals. My brother, who was now a small black boy, gave me a book of essays I had written about these animals (which I had written under the pen name O'Grady), and he told me this would explain everything. Then I woke up. What the hell. |
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speck is the shin meat off of legs of beef or possibly pigs, I forget, but I think it is beef; smalz (?) is horrid: the bacon bits embedded in grease stuff. Speck is very expensive here, sliced wafer thin, over rated I think. The last I had was over $35 per pound... have you ever baked bread in a brown paper bag? |
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[edit] Curing Like prosciutto and other hams, speck is made from the hind leg of the pig, but, unlike other prosciutti, speck is boned before curing. A leg of pork is deboned and divided into large sections called "baffe", and then cured in salt and various spice combination which may include garlic, bay leaves, juniper berries, nutmeg and other spices, and then rested for a period of several weeks. After this the smoking process begins. Speck is cold-smoked slowly and intermittently for two or three hours a day for a period of roughly a week using woods such as beech at temperatures that never exceed 20°C (68°F). The speck is then matured for five months. [edit] Uses Speck is ubiquitous in the local cuisine of the province of Bolzano-Bozen, and is also found in the Austrian, Czech, Dutch, Croatian, German, Italian and Slovak cuisines. Like other salumi, speck is often served in paper thin slices which, like prosciutto, can be draped over sugary fruits like melon, pears and figs. Tissue-thin slices of speck can also be served with horseradish, pickles and dark rye bread studded with raisins and nuts, a more Austrian-influenced presentation. Typically appearing in pastas, in risotto, on pizzas, and alongside hearty whole-grain breads, speck can also be seen in the company of shellfish, sometimes wrapped around scallops or rolled about breadsticks and served with lobster salad. Speck can be cut into thick strips and added to pasta sauces or any dish beginning with a soffritto of olive oil and chopped vegetables. In dishes like risotto, the extremely strong flavour of speck can usually be cut with light flavours such as parsley, lemon, mint, etc. In salads, speck pairs well with apples, sprouts, mushrooms, and hearts of celery. Speck can easily replace bacon or as a smoky alternative to Pancetta. The differences between speck and bacon include different time lengths of smoking, the technique of curing it, and the fact that speck cures for a longer period of time than bacon does. [edit] References "Speck – Smoked Prosciutto" (in English). Mario Batali. 2006. http://www.mariobatali.com/ingredients_speck.cfm. Retrieved on 2007-12-16. ^ Lebensmittelnet.at - Gailtaler Speck (accessed 09/Jan/2008) ^ Austria Tourist Info - Tirol(German) (accessed 09/Jan/2008) I have too much to do and too much time on my hands. |
i'd eat that. with beer. they said that there was nothing wrong with raskolnikov that beer and horseradish couldn't cure. i like it better when spider has erotic dreams if i could play one lightnin' hopkins song for spider, it would be "morning blues". if i could play one lightnin' hopkins song for danny boy, it would be "tell it like it is (whiskey blues)". |
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what kind of music do you like, dr. pepper? i'm just curious. |
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i've been listening to gangsta rap lately. and i too *love* deviled eggs. it's not about chivalry it's about dope lyrics and delivery |
i've been listening to pigmeat markham lately. sweet papa pigmeat, with the river jordan at my hips, and all the women is just run up to be baptized! |
I've been listening to Robyn... one left one right that's how I organize them you know I fill my cups no need to supersize them |
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i'd call it a bean salad. |
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We should be trading mutually guilty looks. |
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Yep, I've heard his work with Ms. Campbell. I'm not that crazy about it, because I don't really go for female singers with high wispy voices, so she kind of puts me off. I do enjoy me some "Resurrection Song." Him, though. God. His voice is, like...you know on "Circle the Fringes," after three minutes of Greg Dulli screeching (God bless him), you hear that deep deep growl, "There's a way about her..." ? Aw, MAN. I always grin when I hear that part. He's just...*sigh* Dave is the one who inspired me to acquaint myself with Mark Lanegan in the first place, lo, these many years ago. Tell him I thank him. :) |
i have to admit the song is very fucking catchy. at the same time kid rock is kinda of a douche. it reminds of when vanilla ice tried to turn to rock. or did i just dream that about 'niller ice? sometimes i cant tell. |
as a person who knew (mostly about) him long before he was famous and went off the grad school and then suddenly was hearing him on the radio, i would agree that he is kind of a douche. at the moment i think that is much better than being a giant douche or flat out evil. in fact there is something wankery sweet about him, lord help me. |
the woman had a song that never made past the rehearsal room. its was a sort of a alt-country/rap about wanting to party with kid rock down in topanga canyon (a semi-famous area of los angeles known for its very hippie-ish, commune-like vibe. think late 70s, hot tubs, filled with former hippies turned swingers high on blow and reunite) |
when I was a young girl I used to seek pleasure when I was a young girl I used to drink ale right out of the ale house and into the jail house right out of the bar room and down to my grave the rest of the song of the lyrics are lifted straight out of laredo/st. jame's. |
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I sing St. James Hospital in the shower every day. It was early one morning I passed St. James Hospital, It was early one morning, morning month of May. I looked through the window and I spied a dear cowboy, Wrapped in white linen, he was cold as the clay. He said, "Come, dear mother, come and seat yourself nigh me. Come, dear father, come and sing me one song. For my knee bones are aching and my poor heart is breaking. I know I'm a poor cowboy and I know I've done wrong." "I want sixteen young gamblers, papa, to carry my coffin, I want sixteen young whore gals for to sing me my song. Tell 'em bring long a bunch of those sweet-smelling roses So they can't smell me as they drive me on." "It was once in the saddle, papa, I used to go dashing, All in my young days when I used to be gay. Down round that old church-house with them handsome young ladies, Them girls oughtta carry me, follow me to my grave." It was early one morning I passed St. James Hospital, Lord, it was early one morning, morning month of May. I looked through the window and I spied a dear cowboy, And he was wrapped in white linen, he was colder than clay. (The tune is really pretty.) |
Come mama come papa sit you beside me Come mama come papa and pity my case My poor head is aching my heart it is breaking My body salivated and I'm bound to die Go send for the preacher to come and pray for me Go send for the doctor to heal up my wounds My poor head is aching my heart it is breaking My body salivated and hell is my home I want three young ladies to bear up my coffin I want three young ladies to take me along I want them to carry a bunch of wild roses To put on my body as I pass along One morning one morning in may One morning one morning in may I spy this young lady all clad in white linen All clad in white linen cold as the clay the verses that don't appear in the version you know are similar to ones in the version i know: doc watson's rendition at the '63 newport folk festival. i like to break out my guitar and play "st. james infirmary." a little while ago i worked out an arrangement of "buddy can you spare a dime?" it might come in handy in the future. |
it's not because i shouldn't it's not because i wouldn't lord knows it's not because i couldn't i'm just the laziest girl in town apparently there's a version by someone named lisa ekdahl where she just won't put out to her "beau named jim." |
"Brother Can You Spare a Dime?" is part of my shower- and dishes-time poverty medley. This also includes "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out," "I Can't Give You Anything But Love," and "King for a Day." You can watch a familiar fowl sing the last one here (1:13-1:43). |
if i could be said to have a poverty medley, it would be "brother...", "nobody knows you..." and maybe "cigarettes whiskey and wild wild women." |
http://i40.tinypic.com/5b4peh.jpg I wonder if those are all variations of the same song... |
i prefer to play st. james infirmary - jazz/blues in a minor key - on guitar. but i wasn't ashamed to tweak the lyrics for my own selfish needs. i also made up an entire verse and a few variants on the chorus for "nobody knows you..." just 'cause i wanted to. |
When my mother was dying, I asked her if she wanted me to sing to her. A friend of hers was trying to sleep in the other room and I felt too self-conscious to sing where she could hear me, so I just hummed a few songs softly to my mother. One of the songs I hummed was "St. James Hospital," because it has a pretty tune. The version I know is close to this one. |
on my "Essential Doc Watson". I went to a Doc Watson concert a few years ago and he did a bluesier version of it. He was 86 years old and introduced the song by saying "I've been playing this song for years and years and every time I play it it still makes me cry." He had me pretty choked up by the end. I played "St. James" on my ukulele a lot when I was in the hospital recently. I'm up for synchronized Lonnie Johnson. I think I have the technology now. |
If you are not free at that time, just name the rain date. |
did buy a Lonnie Johnson album. I remember asking an actual blues guitarist to find one for me a few years ago. Don't know why I never got it. I've been listening to more jazz, lately. Let me work on it. I don't know what I'm doing tomorrow. |
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you two need to get a room. i've been wanting to say that for a decade. |
SORABJIFEST 2012 |
Here's what you do, Droop -- hook your computer up to some speakers and click on this link. One hundred (100) Lonnie Johnson songs will play for you, easy as pie. |
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"Too Late to Cry", "Another Night to Cry", and "Blues in G". I don't know where the "Another Night..." clip came from, but he was introduced by Sonny Boy Williamson. I gotta see if there are more clips from that show. |
2012? |
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the store I work in. I doubt I go with it. I'm at work right now, on my new iPad. I have a feral cats story, but it takes too long to type on this thing. Jeez. And maybe I should work. |
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shop. I showed her how I could make videos of the shop (commercials, basically), and she was really enthusiastic. Who knows. |
i love love love sonny boy williamson. always have. but this is the first time i've heard his version of "i'm a lonely man". on youtube. fuck. |
Anyway. I listened to Lonnie Johnson when I was making cookies on Christmas and I don't know all the names of the songs I listened to, but I thought it was pretty cool that that wayward note in the riff in "Death Valley Is Halfway to my Home" shows up in a number of his songs. He must loved that sound. It shows up in "Bitin' Fleas Blues" and "Away Down in the Alley Blues" and some others. I like "Haunted House" too. That's how I feel. |
La, I arrive on the 6th of March. 65 sleeps to go!!! I am so hyper, I logged into my frequent flyer account and can see my actual flights that I'm booked on sitting there. I have been selling off all the wedding china and have a bit more money than I expected so thats a relief! Plus it looks as though I have a bit of a bonus coming my way from work too which all ads to the fun money. |
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