|
Post by littlebobby on May 1, 2024 12:38:56 GMT
Robert Johnson's Love In Vain is an extraordinary piece of work. His vocal delivery is part early jazz singers and part soul singer. This does almost work as poetry, but it really comes to life with Robert's beautiful vocal delivery. So simple and perfect. I followed her to the station, with a suitcase in my hand And I followed her to the station, with a suitcase in my hand Well, it's hard to tell, it's hard to tell, when all your love's in vain All my love's in vain When the train rolled up to the station, I looked her in the eye When the train rolled up to the station, and I looked her in the eye Well, I was lonesome, I felt so lonesome, and I could not help but cry All my love's in vain When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind Well, the blue light was my blues, and the red light was my mind All my love's in vain Hoo-hoo, ooh, Willie Mae Oh oh hey, hoo, Willie Mae Hoo-hoo, ooh, eeh, oh woe All my love's in vain Shine On Michael I could go on about this for hours but to keep it brief I think he was a beautiful poet. I think the references to the devil and hellhounds on his trail were analogy for the tragedy that dogged him his adult life, perhaps depression and alcoholism too and influenced by the cultural zeitgeist where you went to church or you played the blues and the blues was the devils music. Genius of a man.
|
|
|
Post by Michael Messer on May 1, 2024 13:00:35 GMT
Robert Johnson's Love In Vain is an extraordinary piece of work. His vocal delivery is part early jazz singers and part soul singer. This does almost work as poetry, but it really comes to life with Robert's beautiful vocal delivery. So simple and perfect. I followed her to the station, with a suitcase in my hand And I followed her to the station, with a suitcase in my hand Well, it's hard to tell, it's hard to tell, when all your love's in vain All my love's in vain When the train rolled up to the station, I looked her in the eye When the train rolled up to the station, and I looked her in the eye Well, I was lonesome, I felt so lonesome, and I could not help but cry All my love's in vain When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind Well, the blue light was my blues, and the red light was my mind All my love's in vain Hoo-hoo, ooh, Willie Mae Oh oh hey, hoo, Willie Mae Hoo-hoo, ooh, eeh, oh woe All my love's in vain Shine On Michael I could go on about this for hours but to keep it brief I think he was a beautiful poet. I think the references to the devil and hellhounds on his trail were analogy for the tragedy that dogged him his adult life, perhaps depression and alcoholism too and influenced by the cultural zeitgeist where you went to church or you played the blues and the blues was the devils music. Genius of a man. I have listened to and studied Robert Johnson's music on and off for most, if not all of my adult life, and while I agree about RJ's musical genius because he took it to a place that was unique to him. Every verse in every song, both lyrically and even moreso musically, is like its own movement or self-contained part of the complete piece. I also absolutely love his lyrics and he was an amazing creator of songs, BUT..... like all folk music writers of those times he lifted ideas and complete lines from previous songs. Hellhound On My Trail, as an example as you referenced it, was as far as I know first used in a blues recording 'Devil Blues' in 1927 by Sylvester Weaver, he said... .Hellhounds start to chase me I was a running fool, My ankles caught on fire couldn't keep my puppies cool. A few years on in the early 30s the actual phrase Hellhounds On My Trail appeared in Howlin' Wolf Blues by Funny Papa Smith. For me, the masterpiece of this song's lyrics in the opening line .... I've got to keep moving, blues falling down like hail ....I also really like this line ... I can tell the wind is rising, the leaves trembling on the tree ...that is extraordinary and very beautiful and I like to believe that Robert came up with those lines. Shine On Michael
|
|
|
Post by archtopeddy on May 1, 2024 13:43:41 GMT
Great lines here in Robert Johnson's Love In Vain, especially about the blue light and red light.
When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind When the train, it left the station, with two lights on behind Well, the blue light was my blues, and the red light was my mind All my love's in vain
Interesting how often the good songs are about travelling and that often means trains.
The RJ lines reminds me of what Hendrix might do like in I Hear My Train Comin'
Gonna leave this town, yeah Gonna leave this town Gonna make a whole lotta money I'm gonna buy this town, I'm gonna buy this town An' put it all in my shoe... Might even give a piece to you
|
|
|
Post by archtopeddy on May 1, 2024 14:14:10 GMT
Sometimes it's not so much about clever lyrics but just plain good story telling -- and the blues is a great vehicle for this. The Elmore James version of It Hurts Me Too, reminded me of this.
Here's another good story by Albert Collins.
"My Mind Is Trying To Leave Me"
I went to breakfast this mo'nin, down to the corner bar I thought I heard my baby call my name, an' it came from so far I started runnin' an' answerin', like a crazy fool would do Aha, ya' see, my woman gone away an' left me An' now my mind is tryin' to leave me too
Now my friend stepped out the bar An' stopped me an' offered me a drink I went in an' had a double An' I began to think about my baby Aha, like a crazy fool would do You see, my woman gone away an' left me
An' now my mind is tryin' to leave me too
Oh!
Ha-ah, I went into the barber shop an' ordered ham an' eggs An' each barber gave me fifty cent They thought I was tryin' to beg An' I started cryin' like a baby (like a baby, ha) Like any fool would do You see my woman gone away an' left me An' now my mind is tryin' to leave me too
|
|
|
Post by littlebobby on May 1, 2024 14:34:21 GMT
Sometimes it's not so much about clever lyrics but just plain good story telling -- and the blues is a great vehicle for this. The Elmore James version of It Hurts Me Too, reminded me of this. Here's another good story by Albert Collins. "My Mind Is Trying To Leave Me" I went to breakfast this mo'nin, down to the corner bar I thought I heard my baby call my name, an' it came from so far I started runnin' an' answerin', like a crazy fool would do Aha, ya' see, my woman gone away an' left me An' now my mind is tryin' to leave me too Now my friend stepped out the bar An' stopped me an' offered me a drink I went in an' had a double An' I began to think about my baby Aha, like a crazy fool would do You see, my woman gone away an' left me An' now my mind is tryin' to leave me too Oh! Ha-ah, I went into the barber shop an' ordered ham an' eggs An' each barber gave me fifty cent They thought I was tryin' to beg An' I started cryin' like a baby (like a baby, ha) Like any fool would do You see my woman gone away an' left me An' now my mind is tryin' to leave me too I’d contend that Charlie Parr is one of the finest storytellers working now. Jesus is a hobo on a fast freight outta Denver, huddled up under a twin stack his back against the rain. He’s hoping to make the west coast his food is running low. He’s been traveling on these roads for 2000 years or more. Yr gonna need me, yr gonna need me But can you find me, where you look Yr gonna need me, yr gonna need me You can’t always see the truth Jesus is a hobo in a jungle near LA, where nobody really knows him even if they know his face. They’ll stare into his eyes a disciple from the past but the moment’s gone and lost in the engine’s long low whine. Jesus is a hobo he never left us here, caught a fast one from Calvary and he’s been riding ever since. Yr gonna need me, yr gonna need me But can you find me, where you look Yr gonna need me, yr gonna need me You can’t always see the truth Jesus is a hobo riding south outta St. Paul seeing a cathedral through the snowflakes and bracing against the cold. When he gets down to Rock Island maybe there he’ll let ‘em know that underneath his coveralls he wears a purple robe. Yr gonna need me, yr gonna need me But can you find me, where you look Yr gonna need me, yr gonna need me You can’t always see the truth
|
|
|
Post by littlebobby on May 1, 2024 14:48:17 GMT
I could go on about this for hours but to keep it brief I think he was a beautiful poet. I think the references to the devil and hellhounds on his trail were analogy for the tragedy that dogged him his adult life, perhaps depression and alcoholism too and influenced by the cultural zeitgeist where you went to church or you played the blues and the blues was the devils music. Genius of a man. I have listened to and studied Robert Johnson's music on and off for most, if not all of my adult life, and while I agree about RJ's musical genius because he took it to a place that was unique to him. Every verse in every song, both lyrically and even moreso musically, is like its own movement or self-contained part of the complete piece. I also absolutely love his lyrics and he was an amazing creator of songs, BUT..... like all folk music writers of those times he lifted ideas and complete lines from previous songs. Hellhound On My Trail, as an example as you referenced it, was as far as I know first used in a blues recording 'Devil Blues' in 1927 by Sylvester Weaver, he said... .Hellhounds start to chase me I was a running fool, My ankles caught on fire couldn't keep my puppies cool. A few years on in the early 30s the actual phrase Hellhounds On My Trail appeared in Howlin' Wolf Blues by Funny Papa Smith. For me, the masterpiece of this song's lyrics in the opening line .... I've got to keep moving, blues falling down like hail ....I also really like this line ... I can tell the wind is rising, the leaves trembling on the tree ...that is extraordinary and very beautiful and I like to believe that Robert came up with those lines. Shine On Michael I hear you about the lyrics being shared. It was almost like a library when you hear how similar some of the words were and I bow to your knowledge about RJ taking from other artists, but knowing the bits of history of his life that are around those devil / hellhound references take on a different kind of poignancy for me. Its all subjective and I didn’t interpret them that way until I learned more about his life but it gives them a different vibe now.
|
|
|
Post by mitchfit on May 1, 2024 22:36:51 GMT
go away one day and this thread has tripled in size-whew.
re: tomgiemza's "Murder Most Foul" posting. below see different ways of getting the same the point across.
here in the US, the federal government ordered the federal government to release ALL documents about same in back in 2021.
at the rate allowed to "protect intelligence gathering sources/methods" with redacting/censoring where/how info became known from 60 years ago, the process could take up to 20 years to complete...
Traffic--
CSN--
below from back in the 1970's. i wrote it but the message NEVER made any music in my soul. anyone who wants to pick the ball up and run with it-do so with my blessings. i haven't for a half century...
THE BROTHERS K
the best planned accidental event it happened just the other day in his lincoln just like Lincoln the last act of that play across the stage the curtain went 'till the jester did an encore in L.A.
and the brass on the hill in the grass lies there still
at the scene of the accident morality-the only witness hid in the array of the crowd all drawn there by death's scent and wonders how it ever got this way
the spent casing kinda rare on the ground was left there
"sir hand" a pawn-a pawn is thus sent from the wizard of "oz walled" in to hide control from day as these words don't say what they meant they really mean nothing 'cause the cast got away
and the case went unseen can you face what i mean?
mitchfit
PS- bonzo if you read this--sent you a PM with destructions for loading videos.
|
|
|
Post by mitchfit on May 1, 2024 22:57:26 GMT
too agree with archtopeddy about Hendrix having great songwriting skills. below a tune about our possible future when the air gets to funky to breath anymore. classify as prophetic science fiction: it would take my poor typing hours for this. please see: www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/jimihendrix/1983amermanishouldturntobe.html mitchfit PS made a posting here about same lyrics, including original hand written beginning of song from his daughter. can't find it. long story made short--i think where: Forever Forever is written got changed to "for air, for air" many moons later when final recording was done. YMMV.
|
|
|
Post by mitchfit on May 2, 2024 2:19:01 GMT
many hours later he thought-
if you can about double the speed on your computer, phonograph or tape deck 3rd Stone [earth] becomes a pretty cool science fiction story also. dunno how on computer but have seen it done.
mitchfit
|
|
|
Post by mitchfit on May 2, 2024 2:33:02 GMT
a few minutes later, he wondered how Jimi wrote lyrics at double speed???
mitchfit
|
|
|
Post by archtopeddy on May 2, 2024 3:55:38 GMT
Great story telling lyrics. And the blues.
Son House -- Death Letter Blues.
'Nuff said.
|
|
|
Post by twang1 on May 2, 2024 8:44:30 GMT
Reading the lyrics of Masters Of War made me remember THEY CALL IT DEMOCRACY by BRUCE COCKBURN:
Padded with power here they come International loan sharks backed by the guns Of market hungry military profiteers Whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared With the blood of the poor
Who rob life of its quality Who render rage a necessity By turning countries into labour camps Modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom
Sinister cynical instrument Who makes the gun into a sacrament -- The only response to the deification Of tyranny by so-called "developed" nations' Idolatry of ideology
North South East West Kill the best and buy the rest It's just spend a buck to make a buck You don't really give a flying f**k About the people in misery
IMF dirty MF Takes away everything it can get Always making certain that there's one thing left Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt
See the paid-off local bottom feeders Passing themselves off as leaders Kiss the ladies shake hands with the fellows Open for business like a cheap bordello
And they call it democracy And they call it democracy And they call it democracy And they call it democracy
See the loaded eyes of the children too Trying to make the best of it the way kids do One day you're going to rise from your habitual feast To find yourself staring down the throat of the beast They call the revolution
IMF dirty MF Takes away everything it can get Always making certain that there's one thing left Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt
|
|
|
Post by mitchfit on May 2, 2024 19:07:02 GMT
^^^^ will be checking into Mr. Cockburn based on your lyric posting alone. very insightful author.
a woman i knew in the past with a master's degree in history once told me that the historical records are only half of the story unless combined with a knowledge of the economic situation of that time period.
Listen to the blackbird sadly sing For you, for me Look at all the pointless suffering Humanity
I am dreaming of a garden And I see the midnight flight Of a blackbird, through my vision To the light To the light
She is standing in the doorway With the love light in her eye And she beckons me to journey Through the night Through the night
Listen to the blackbird sadly sing For you, for me Look at all the pointless suffering Humanity
To the people, who are naked As they breathe in amber haze Wandering endlessly narcotic Through the maze Through the maze
To the leaders, who are timeless As they flaunt their warlike ways Flying endlessly o'er the wasteland Seeking praise Seeking praise
Listen to the blackbird sadly sing For you, for me Look at all the pointless suffering Humanity
mitchfit
|
|
|
Post by mitchfit on May 3, 2024 3:59:55 GMT
ancient songs along the same lines as above?
this thread started with an old poem that had potential to become a song. the below is an excerpt from poetry that is guestimated to be about 13,000 years old, the Mahabarata. it is said to have been a big hit back then in the Indus Valley Region.
THE IRON THUNDERBOLT
A single projectile charged with all the power of the Universe. An incandescent column of smoke and flame as bright as one thousand suns rose in all its splendour An iron thunderbolt, a gigantic messenger of death Which reduced to ashes the entire race of the Vrishnis and the Andhakas The corpses were so burned as to be unrecognizable The hair and nails fell out; pottery broke without apparent cause The birds turned white After a few hours all foodstuffs were infected To escape from this fire, the soldiers threw themselves in streams To wash themselves and their equipment
Dr. Robert Oppenheimer seemed to feel the ancient poem was still relevant even in the 1940s when he quoted from it saying, "Now I am become death, destroyer of worlds".
YET ANOTHER ANCIENT POEM
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
mitchfit
|
|
|
Post by archtopeddy on May 3, 2024 5:26:32 GMT
I loved the way Hendrix wrote from a sci-fi perspective. With his alternate, "what-if", perspective, he was like the Phillip K. Dick of rock and roll. It's also eerie how often his songs hint at his early demise from the world as though he was a soul only visiting the planet. "If I don't see you in this world, I'll see you in the next -- so don't be late." This all combined with a sarcastic, ironic, and thought-provoking sense lf humor.
But this thread is about lyrics -- so let me suggest two JH songs, both from the same LP "Axis Bold As Love." First sci-fi, the second poetic "what-if"
Sci fi: Up from the skies
I just want to talk to you I won't do you no harm I just want to know about your different lives On this here people farm I heard some of you got your families Living in cages, tall and cold And some just stay there and, dust away Past the age of old
Is this true? Please let me talk to you
I just want to know about The rooms behind your minds Do I see a vacuum there Or am I going blind? Or is it just the remains from vibrations And echoes long ago Things like "Love the World" And "Let your fancy Flow"
Is this true? Please let me talk to you Let me talk to you
I have lived here before, the days of ice And of course this is why I'm so concerned And I come back to find the stars misplaced And the smell of a world that has burned A smell of the world that has burned
(Yeah well, maybe Maybe it's just a change of climate I can dig it I can dig it baby, I just want to see)
So where do I purchase my ticket? I would just like to have a ringside seat I want to know about the new Mother Earth I want to hear and see everything I want to hear and see everything I want to hear and see everything
"What-If" and poetic: Castles Made of Sand
Down the street you can hear her scream "You're a disgrace" As she slams the door in his drunken face And now he stands outside And all the neighbors start to gossip and drool He cries "Oh girl, you must be mad What happened to the sweet love you and me had?" Against the door he leans and starts a scene And his tears fall and burn the garden green
And so castles made of sand Fall in the sea eventually
A little Indian brave who before he was ten Played war games in the woods with his Indian friends And he built a dream that when he grew up He would be a fearless warrior, Indian Chief Many moons passed, and more the dream grew strong Until tomorrow he would sing his first war song And fight his first battle But something went wrong Surprise attack killed him in his sleep that night
And so castles made of sand Melts into the sea eventually
There was a young girl whose heart was a frown 'Cause she was crippled for life and she couldn't speak a sound And she wished and prayed she could stop living So she decided to die She drew her wheelchair to the edge of the shore And to her legs she smiled, "You won't hurt me no more" But then a sight she'd never seen made her jump and say "Look, a golden winged ship is passing my way" And it really didn't have to stop It just kept on going
And so castles made of sand Slips into the sea eventually
|
|