Archive for the 'Mountain/southern us' Category



The Butcher’s Boy


h1 Tuesday, May 1st, 2007

The Butcher’s Boy
Buell Kazee recorded this on January 16, 1928 in New York City. The original recording was included on Harry Smith’s “Anthology of American Folk Music” Originally released in 1952 on a six LP set and again in 1997 on a six CD set. The “Harry Smith Anthology” was the cornerstone of the folk revival of the 50s and 60s. I didn’t own a copy but learned many of these songs second hand at places like the Gaslight in Greenwich Village. “The Butcher’s Boy” is another of the sad ending songs popular in Appalachian love ballads. I love the G modal banjo tuning on this.
Lyrics:
BUTCHER’S BOY

She went upstairs to make her bed
And not one word to her mother said

Her mother she went upstairs too
Saying, “Daughter, oh daughter, what troubles you?”

“Oh mother, oh mother, I cannot tell
That butcher’s boy I love so well

He courted me my life away
And now at home he will not stay”

“There is a place in London town
Where that butcher’s boy goes and sits down

He takes that strange girl on his knee
And tells to her what he won’t tell me”

Her father he came up from work
Saying, “Where is my daughter, she seems so hurt”

He went upstairs to give her hope
And found her hanging from a rope

He took his knife and cut her down
And in her bosom these words were found

“Go dig my grave both wide and deep
Place a marble slab at my head and feet

And over my coffin, place a snow white dove
To warn the world that I died of love

On Top Of Old Smokey


h1 Friday, July 1st, 2005

Smokey2.jpg

I remember lying on the floor in front of the big brown cathedral radio at my grandmother's house, listening to The Weavers sing 'On Top of Old Smokey.' It was on the 'Hit Parade' back then, just as popular as Coldplay, Weezer or Black Eyed Peas are today. It's still a great song. I recorded it with my new 7-string Martin, a 5-string banjo and bass, with a few Rickenbacker 12-string licks at the end.
Lyrics:
[D] On top of old [G] Smokey
All covered with [D] snow
I lost my true [A] lover
For courting too [D] slow

Courting 's a pleasure
And parting is a grief
But a false hearted lover
Is worst than a thief

For a thief he will rob you
And take what you have
But a false hearted lover
Will lead you to your grave

The grave will decay you
And turn you to dust
One girl in a thousand
That a poor boy can trust

For they'll hug and they'll kiss you
And tell you more lies
That the crossties on a railroad
Or the stars in th sky

So come all you young fellows
Take a warning from me
Never place your affection
On a green growing tree

For the leaves they will wither
And the roots will decay
And a false hearted lover
Will soon fade away

On top of old Smokey
All covered with snow
I lost my true lover
For courting too slow

So Early In The Spring


h1 Sunday, May 1st, 2005

early_spring.jpg

This is a sea chantey that got distilled, and transformed into a love ballad in the Appalachian Mountains. The origin is Scottish, but the lyrical style is obviously from the Southern United States. Many settlers to the New World brought their music with them, only to have it subtly changed over time.

Another example of this phenomenon is Jean Ritchie's song 'Nottamun Town,' which only survived by being brought to North America. When, as a Fulbright Scholar she visited Nottingham, England to research the roots of the song, it had completely disappeared in its original form.

Appalachian Traditional Music, A Short History:

http://www.mustrad.org.uk/articles/appalach.htm

Lyrics:
SO EARLY IN THE SPRING

[A] It being early in the spring
I went on board to serve my [E] king
[A] Leaving my dearest [F#m] dear behind
She [E] oftimes swore her heart was[F#m] mine

As I lay smiling in her arms
I thought I held ten thousand charms
With embraces kind and a kiss so sweet
Saying We'll be married when next we meet

As I was sailing on the sea
I took a kind opportunity
Of writing letters to my dear
But scarce one word from her did hear

As I was walking up London Street
I shoved a letter from under my feet
Straight lines being wrote without any blot
Saying seldom seen is soon forgot

I went up to her father's hall
And for my dearest dear did call
She's married, sir, she's better for life
For she has become a rich man's wife

If the girl is married, whom I adore
I'm sure I'll stay on land no more.
Straight lines being wrote without any blot
Saying seldom seen is soon forgot

So come young lads take a warn from me
If in love you'll ever be
For love is patient,love is kind,
Just never leave your love behind

It being early in the spring
I went on board to serve my king
Leaving my dearest dear behind
She oftimes swore her heart was mine

New words and new music by Roger McGuinn (C) 2005 McGuinn Music (BMI)

Follow The Drinking Gourd


h1 Tuesday, March 1st, 2005

gourd.gif

Special thanks to Nedra Talley Ross (of the Ronettes) for background vocals.

http://www.history-of-rock.com/ronettes.htm

FOLLOW THE DRINKING GOURD DECODED

[A] Follow the [Em] drinking gourd!
[A] Follow the [Em] drinking gourd.
For the [G] old man is [D] waiting to [C] carry you to [D] freedom
[Em] Follow the [D] drinking [Em] gourd.

The old man in this chorus was Peg Leg Joe, a sailor-turned-carpenter who had lost part of his right leg in an accident at sea. Joe wintered in the South doing odd jobs, from plantation to plantation. When he wasn't working he taught the slaves this song containing a secret escape route to freedom in the North.

The Drinking Gourd is not a gourd, but the Big Dipper with its two pointer stars (Dubhe and Merak) that visually lead to the North Star.
By following the North Star the slaves were able to consistently navigate northward.

When the sun comes back and the first quail calls,
Follow the drinking gourd,
For the old man is waiting to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd.

Each year when the quails migrated south, the slaves were told to begin their journey northward, which entailed crossing the unnavigable Ohio River. It was too swift and wide to cross, except in winter, when it was frozen and slaves could walk to the other shore on the ice.

The riverbank makes a very good road,
The dead trees will show you the way,
Left foot, peg foot traveling on,
Following the drinking gourd.

Peg Leg Joe marked one bank of the Tombigbee River in Mississippi with his easily identifiable footprints. By following them and the dead trees along the riverbank, the slaves could have a safe journey free from plantation owner's hounds.

The river ends between two hills,
Follow the drinking gourd,
There's another river on the other side,
Follow the drinking gourd.

When the Tombigbee ended, the slaves were told to continue northward, over the hills, to the Tennessee River where the Underground Railroad would help them.

Lyrics:
FOLLOW THE DRINKING GOURD

[Em] When the sun goes back and the [C] first quail calls
[Em] Follow the [D] drinking [Em] gourd
[Em] The old man is a-waitin' for to [C] carry you to freedom
[Em] Follow the [D] drinking [Em] gourd

[A] Follow the [Em] drinking gourd!
[A] Follow the [Em] drinking gourd.
For the [G] old man is [D] waiting to [C] carry you to [D] freedom
[Em] Follow the [D] drinking [Em] gourd.

The river bed makes a mighty fine road,
Dead trees to show you the way
And it's left foot, peg foot, traveling on
Follow the drinking gourd

CHORUS

The river ends between two hills
Follow the drinking gourd
There's another river on the other side
Follow the drinking gourd

CHORUS

I thought I heard the angels say
Follow the drinking gourd
The stars in the heavens gonna show you the way
Follow the drinking gourd

CHORUS

Cindy


h1 Sunday, January 2nd, 2005

Cindy.jpg

This is one of the great American folk songs that I learned at the Old Town School of Folk Music in Chicago. I love playing banjo on this song, which according to John Lomax is originally from North Carolina. Cindy is a widely known frolic tune, appearing in many folk music collections and even old elementary school songbooks.
Lyrics:
CINDY

[C] You ought to see my Cindy
She lives away down [G] south
[C] She's so sweet the [F] honeybees
[C] Swarm [G] around her [C] mouth.

cho: Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
Get along [C] home.
Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
I'll [C] marry [G] you some [C] day. (I'm a-gonna leave you now)

Wish I was an apple
Hangin on a tree
An' every time that Cindy passed
She'd take a bite o' me

cho: Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
Get along [C] home.
Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
I'll [C] marry [G] you some [C] day. (I'm a-gonna leave you now)

She took me to the parlor
She cooled me with her fan
She said I was the prettiest thing
In the shape of mortal man

cho: Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
Get along [C] home.
Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
I'll [C] marry [G] you some [C] day. (I'm a-gonna leave you now)

Now Cindy got religion,
She had it once before
When she heered my old banjo
She's the first one on the floor.

cho: Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
Get along [C] home.
Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
I'll [C] marry [G] you some [C] day. (I'm a-gonna leave you now)

Now Cindy got religion,
She wheeled round and round
She got so full of glory
That she knocked the preacher down

cho: Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
Get along [C] home.
Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
I'll [C] marry [G] you some [C] day. (I'm a-gonna leave you now)

[C] You ought to see my Cindy
She lives away down [G] south
[C] She's so sweet that [F] honeybees
[C] Swarm [G] around her [C] mouth.

cho: Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
Get along [C] home.
Get along [F] home, Cindy Cindy
I'll [C] marry [G] you some [C] day. (X2)

Some additional verses:

Cindy in the summertime
Cindy in the fall
If I can't have Cindy all the time
Have no one at all.

Cindy is a pretty girl
Cindy is a peach;
Threw her arms around my neck
Hung on like a leach.

Cindy got religion,
Tell you what she done:
Walked up to the minister
Chawed her chewin' gum.

Cindy got religion,
She had it once before
When she heered my old banjo
She's the first one on the floor.

Cindy got religion
She really went to town;
Got so full of glory, Lord,
Shook her stockin's down.

If I had a pretty gal
I'd put her on a shelf;
Ev'ry time she smiled at me,
I'd jump right up myself.

Cindy had one blue eye
She also had one brown
One eye looked in the country
The other one looked in town

Wish I had a needle and thread
Wish that I could sew
I'd sew that gal to my coat tails
And down the road we'd go

alt chorus:
Git along home, Cindy
Git along home to stay
Git along home, Cindy
One more night 'n' day

alt cho: It's kiss me, gal
Kiss me once again.
Oh, it's kiss me, gal
All night long.

Ezekiel Saw A Wheel


h1 Thursday, April 1st, 2004

EZ_Wheel.gif

Image Credit: http://www.untiedmusic.com/ezekiel/

This is a spiritual I learned many years ago at the Old Town School of Folk Music in Chicago. It refers to a part of the Old Testament where Ezekiel sees a vision of concentric wheels floating in space. They have many properties attributed to flying saucers. It makes one wonder whether people who claim to see flying saucers are seeing into a spiritual dimension. There are many mysteries.

I have recorded this song in the new genre Pho-Kop to coincide with the April 1, 2004 release of my new CD 'Limited Edition' where Pho-Kop first appears in the song 'Shady Grove.'

Trad., Arr. R. McGuinn / McGuinn Music (BMI) 2004

Lyrics:
[G] Ezekiel saw a wheel, way up in the middle of the air

Ezekiel saw a wheel way in the [D] middle of the [G] air

Little wheel run by faith, big wheel run by the grace of God

Ezekiel saw a wheel way in the [D] middle of the [G] air

Shenandoah


h1 Tuesday, September 2nd, 2003

Shenandoah.jpg

This was a sea chantey, used with the windlass, and the capstan.The lead man would sing the first and third lines of each verse and the crew would sing on the second and fourth lines, as they did their work, with winches for loading cargo, raising sails, pulling up anchors, and other jobs on deck.

Some believe the song originated among the early American river men, or Canadian voyageurs. Others believe it was a land song before it went to sea. Most agree that it incorporates both Irish and African-American elements.

Shenandoah was tremendously popular both on land and sea and was known by countless names, including: Shennydore, The Wide Missouri, The Wild Mizzourye, The World Of Misery-Solid Fas (a West Indian rowing shanty that may be older than other versions), The Oceanida, and Rolling River.

Two verses of the song were published in an article by W. J. Alden in Harper's Magazine (1882). A version of Solid Fa's was collected by R. Abrams in England in 1909. The shanty is said to date at least to the 1820s.

Shenandoah was an Indian chief living on the Missouri River.

Thanks to Lesley Nelson for this information. http://www.contemplator.com/folk.html

Lyrics:
[E] Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter
[A] Way-aye, you rolling [E] river
I'll [C#m] take her 'cross yon rolling [E] water
[E] A way – we're bound away
'cross the [B7] wide [E] Missouri!

The Chief disdained the trader's dollars,
Way-aye, you rolling river
My daughter you shall never follow
A way – we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

For seven years I courted Sally,
Way-aye, you rolling river
For seven more I longed to have her
A way – we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

She said she would not be my lover
Way-aye, you rolling river
Because I was a tarry sailor
A way – we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

At last there came a Yankee skipper
Way-aye, you rolling river
He winked his eye, and he tipped his flipper
A way – we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

He sold the Chief that fire-water
Way-aye, you rolling river
And 'cross the river he stole his daughter
A way – we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter
Way-aye, you rolling river
I'll take her 'cross yon rolling water
A way – we're bound away
'cross the wide Missour

He's Got The Whole World In His Hands


h1 Wednesday, July 2nd, 2003

In these troubled times it's reassuring to know that, He's Got The Whole World In His Hands.
Lyrics:
He's got the [G] whole world in His hands

He's got the [D7} whole world in His hands

He's got the [G] whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world [D7] in His [G] hands

He's got the wind and the rain in His hands

He's got the wind and the rain in His hands

He's got the wind and the rain in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the Little Bitty Baby in His hands

He's got the Little Bitty Baby in His hands

He's got the Little Bitty Baby in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got you and me brother in His hands

He's got you and me sister in His hands

He's got you and me brother in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the earth and the sky in His hands

He's got the earth and the sky in His hands

He's got the earth and the sky in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the young and the old in His hands

He's got the young and the old in His hands

He's got the young and the old in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the rich and poor in His hands

He's got the rich and poor in His hands

He's got the rich and poor in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got everybody in His hands

He's got everybody in His hands

He's got everybody in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got the whole world in His hands

12 Gates To The City


h1 Thursday, May 1st, 2003

This is an old southern spiritual, inspired by the Bible's Revelation chapter 21.

Revelation 21 – King James Version ( Public Domain)

Lyrics:
[Em] Oh, what a beautiful city.
[B7] Oh, what a beautiful city
[Em] Oh, what a beautiful city
[Em] Twelve gates to the city, [B7] – [[Em] Hallelujah

Three gates in the east,
Three gates in the west,
Three gates in the north
Three gates in the south
[Em] Twelve gates to the city, [B7] – [[Em] Hallelujah

Who are those children dressed in red?
There's twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah
Must be the children that Moses led
There's twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah

My Jesus done just what He said
There's twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah
He healed the sick and He raised the dead.
There's twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah

Pretty Saro


h1 Saturday, March 1st, 2003

Saro.jpg

This song was collected in the Asheville area of North Carolina and the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia around 1930 by Dorothy Scarborough. She included it in her book 'A Song Catcher in Southern Mountains, American Folk Songs of British Ancestry.' This is an excerpt from her text:

'Mrs. Stikeleather also sang it (Pretty Saro) into my dictaphone and contributed it to this collection. She told me that while the date 'eighteen forty-nine' is used in some of the versions of the song, 'seventeen forty-nine' is more probably correct, as that year witnessed considerable immigration to North Carolina from Ireland, and Scotland, and this old English song was no doubt adapted to its new setting at that time.' Scarborough later says that the use of the phrase 'free-holder' indicates the song is of British origin.

Lyrics:
[A] When I first come to this [E] country in [A] seventeen-forty-nine,

I saw many fair [E] lovers, but never saw [E] mine.

I looked all [A] around me, and found I was [E] alone.

Me a poor [D] stranger, and a long way from [E] home.

Down in some lonesome valley, down in some lonesome place,

Where the wild birds do whistle their notes to increase,

I think of pretty Saro whose waist is so neat

And I know of no better pastime than to be with my sweet.

My love she won't have me, so I understand

She wants a free-holder, who owns house and land.

I cannot maintain her with silver and gold,

Nor buy all the fine things that a big house can hold.

I wish I was a poet and could write a fine hand.

I would send my love a letter that she could understand.

And I'd send it by a messenger where the waters do flow.

And think of pretty Saro wherever I go.

When I first come to this country in seventeen-forty-nine,

I saw many fair lovers, but never saw mine.

I looked all around me, and found I was alone.

Me a poor stranger, and a long way from home.