I Live On the Recording

I will always live in the groove somewhere between the artist and the song. Whenever you want me, just pull out the recordings and maybe you will find me swimming in the waves of the mix. Lately, I've been doing some hard travelin'. I may be south of the border looking for bail in the Tijuana jail. Later, find me hanging around in some lonesome valley with Tom Dooley. Or I'm just as at home in Margaritaville or Montgomery singing the honky tonk blues. If you dare to disturb the sounds of silence, find me somewhere in an answer that keeps blowin' in the wind with the promise of a change that's gonna come. I face the grim reality in old Dixie as people get ready to endure the last bitter crop of terrible, strange fruit. Or maybe I'll be watching the skyball of lightning at Los Gatos Canyon amid deportees and Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding: tragedy littering the skyways and lost highways. Sometimes I seek shelter from a hard, hard rain as I stumble on the side of twelve misty mountains catching a glimpse of a lady in a long, black veil. Or maybe I'll be down some dark Appalachian hollow where the sun never shines talking with the man of constant sorrow, who just couldn't keep on the sunny side of life but still seeks an unbroken circle of friends in glory land. And I roam and ramble as I follow my footsteps and a voice all around me rings, "This land is your land." Sometimes, I catch a ride on the mystery train to the crossroads to give some sympathy for the devil like a voodoo chile with hellhounds on his trail. Singing the roadhouse blues in country shacks or running from company bulls to share the hot mulligan with tramps and rum dums in the hobo jungles, you can find me there, the king of the road. Then, around the water tank and waiting on the midnight flyer, I'm just movin' on. I'm going where the sun keeps shining thru' the pouring rain, going where the weather suits my clothes. Anytime you need me, take it to the limit to find your satisfaction. Whether you're in the mood for a rainy night in Georgia or sunshine on your shoulders, I'm residing here, so you can sing me back home at will. Just don't forget to turn out the lights in the end when the music is over. Please, Johnny, be good tonight and don't forget to wake up little Susie. There's American pie for breakfast in the soul kitchen of Alice's Restaurant. So, don't let the sun catch you crying. Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight. If you're wondering how blue can you get, set your laser on the crossroads of lonely avenue and the boulevard of broken dreams in lonesome town. I'm usually there getting misty from all the wasted time and shedding a few lonely teardrops in Heartbreak Hotel on the poor side of town. In fact, sometimes I feel just like a whipping post when I fall for her angel eyes and end up being Cathy's clown. But, when the thrill is gone with the last kiss, I find one more thrill somewhere near Blueberry Hill, then begin slowly walking to New Orleans. Just remember I love you when nothing is left but faded photographs, tickets torn in half, and other traces of love. Only the lonely know what you feel tonight in the darkness on the edge of town. But, silence is golden in the midnight hour, and you can feel my respect in the infinite power of love. Thus as, darkness stirs and awakens imagination, only you will answer my prayer as your memory gives me shelter to help me make it through the twilight time. Let the darker side give in as your warm and tender love helps me live the music of the night. Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove as you dance me to the end of love. As the rest of the world seems far away and small, we're slow dancing, swaying to the music. Pretty eyes and pirate smile, you're my ballerina, a tiny dancer in my hand. We skip a light fandango and turn cartwheels across the floor, and I want you to know I believe in your simple song. So, let us move until we drift away upon a cloud of sound on our magic carpet ride. Sister, will you soothe my fevered brow and rock me on the water? Send me to the river where I can dive and cleanse my soul to find that dreams are lies that don't come true, or maybe something worse. Just watching the river run, we slip further and further from things we have done, leaving them one by one. I'm gonna lay my burden on the golden sand down by that riverside and study war no more. I've been born again...I'm a brand new man. Or see me always on your mind. I'm there just standing in the shadows of love on the dark end of some street. That's where we always meet. Through the mirror of the mind, time after time you see reflections of you and me. Maybe I'm an imaginary lover, who always cares because we all need somebody to lean on. But was it just my imagination running away with me? It's so surprising how time slips away. And somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go may lie a reason you were alive but you'll never know. And, meanwhile, you were still thinkin'. But I'll be there playing my song for you within the layers of aluminum, acrylic and plastic -- just waiting for a friend. Right beside the bits and bumps of 0's and 1's on the three-mile trail. Always ready to get back on the road again, I'm your puppet sonic companion. Just me and the tumbling tumbleweeds.

Leadbelly once said, “When you lie down at night, turning from side to side, and you can’t be satisfied o' way you do, Old Man Blues got you.” I Got the Blues Bent under heavy ducking sacks in the broiling, demon sun, Ebony shapes haunted the soft white-capped fields of the Mississippi Delta. Rootless and orphaned, the human commodities pined for lost love and family And wailed field hollars in beautiful, haunting rhythmic undertones of eternal hope. "Trouble in my mind, I am blue, but I won't be blue always, Sun, you gotta shine, in my backdoor some day, I may be blue but I won't be blue always, Sun, you gotta shine, in my backdoor some day." The twin Blue Devils of melancholy and sadness haunted eight bars, then twelve, Aided in their progression with bent blue notes and crushing slides And melodic falls at the turnaround in sixteen bar minor keys Or shuffles of swung eighth note vocals of "dow, da dow, da dow, da." Loose narratives in rhythm spoke of harsh realities, white bosses and hard times. W.C. Handy found the Devils in St. Louis while Robert Johnson sold his soul at the crossroads. Charlie Patton, Blind Willie Johnson, Mamie Smith, and Lead Belly-- all possessed the Blues. The Devils stormed the Mississippi Delta south to New Orleans, west to Memphis, and north to Chicago. The Blues remain with the low and downtrodden. They echo the pain and struggle of their troubled hosts Just as their souls expel the sad and melancholy spirits Like the displaced slaves of the old master's killing fields. "Into each life must come some trouble, must come some rain Only through adversity will you ever know your true strength When hard times come we fight the battles we find no one else could win Remember what the old blues doctor said, Trouble don't last always." -Arthur Flowers, New Delhi, January 2009

Nasty '60's?

Most always, it's very hard for the older generation to accept lyrical changes in popular music. In fact, some people blame violent, sexual, drug-laced song lyrics for many ills in society. A study of the history of banned lyrics does provide some interesting insight into this perception of blame.

Since the 1960's have been perceived by many as the height of America's political unrest and careless, Hippy-like freedom of expression, I chose to find some '60's songs and artists that were banned for various reasons. My thanks to Eric Nuzum, author of Harper's Parental Advisory:

Music Censorship in America (2001) for the examples of music and behavior once considered distasteful.

Here is a list from the 1960's:

1960 Radio stations refuse to play Ray Peterson's "Tell Laura I Love Her," calling it the "Death Disk."

1961 The Blazers' surf hit "Beaver Patrol" was banned from California airwaves due to its "indecent" title.

1962 New York Bishop Burke forbids Catholic students from dancing to Chubby Checker's "The Twist."

1963 The FBI begins collecting data on folk singers like Phil Ochs.

1964 Indiana Governor Welsh attempts to ban the Kingsmen "Louie, Louie," but the FCC finds its lyrics indecipherable.

1965 The Barry McGuire song "Eve of Destruction" is pulled from stores and radio because it could promote suicidal feelings amongst teens.

1966 Police attempt to shut down a James Brown concert, alleging his dancing is obscene.

1967 The Ed Sullivan Show requests that Jim Morrison change lyrics to "Light My Fire" to alter "Girl we couldn't get much higher" to a more innocuous phrase.

1968 Sponsors threaten to pull support after a television program shows interracial "touching" in a duet between Petula Clark and Harry Belafonte.

1969 Top refuses to play "The Ballad of John and Yoko" because the lyrics contain references to Christ and crucifixion.

1970 The Movement to Restore Democracy calls for banning of rock music to end the spread of Socialism in America.

These examples of censorship provide some interesting historical perspective. How many, if any, of these samples would be prohibited today? I certainly believe none would. Does this suggest that readers should examine their present stances on popular music? The answer may depend on how many so-called "shocking" behaviors become the norms of a tomorrow fifty years in the future.

Society appeals to change for important advancement. As much as many older people hate to admit that they judge a younger society by dated standards, a certain degree of truth must exist in this view. As people become more tolerant of others and as injustices are exposed, both old and young must agree to alter those things that have hindered positive change.

Music is often at the forefront while driving the initial surge for alteration. To be left in its wake can be a disturbing experience yet a healthy lesson learned. Here's hoping that enough good will emanate to uplift those who may conceive themselves to be drowning in the polluted waters of the music industry.