Mike

The New Lost City Ramblers

40 Years of Concert Recordings

Rounder 821 610 481-2

John Cohen (vocals, mandolin, guitar, kazoo, banjo, banjo-guitar, triangle), Mike Seeger (vocals, fiddle, mandolin, banjo-mandolin, banjo, autoharp, mouth harp, jaw harp), Tom Paley (vocals, guitar, banjo, kazoo), Tracy Schwartz (vocals, fiddle, guitar, button accordion)

Soldier’s Joy /Down in the Willow Garden/Brown’s Ferry Blues /Too Tight Rag /Little Birdie/Darling Corey /The Democratic Donkey (is In His Stall Again) /Poor Ellen Smith/On Some Foggy Mountain Top/Cackling Hen/The Battleship Maine/Worried Man Blues/The Unquiet Grave/Lady of Carlisle/Groundhog/Orange Blossom Special/East Virginia Blues/Country Blues/Little Maggie/The Little Girl and the Dreadful Snake/Keep Movin’/Fortune/She Tickles Me/The Arkansas Traveler/Saddle Up the Grey/Sally Goodin’/The Old Bell Cow/It’s Hard to Leave You, Sweet Love/Dark Holler Blues/Locks and Bolts/Wildwood Weed/Milk ‘Em in the Evening Blues/Madeline/Sourwood Mountain/Black Bottom Strut/Jordan Is a Hard Road to Travel/The Old Man at the Mill/Tom Sherman’s Bar Room/Turkey in the Straw (intro.)/Turkey in the Straw/Old Joe Clark/Rabbit Chase/Poor Old Dirt Farmer/Tennessee Blues/Gonna Lay Down My Old Guitar/I’ve Always Been a Rambler/Baltimore Fire/Three Men Went A-Hunting

“Reagents for Organic Synthesis” by Louis and Mary Feiser is a twenty-volume work found in the personal libraries of most practicing Organic chemists. Unlike a textbook or an encyclopedia, it is an essential reference, a compendium of past and present knowledge of the field as perceived by two eminent scientists. Simultaneously instructive and inspirational, it provides a portal to the universal corpus of chemical knowledge known as “the literature”. By analogy, the personal libraries of old-time music enthusiasts should include the two CD set “The New Lost City Ramblers: Forty Years of Concert Performances”.

The history of the NLCR is well known to readers of the OTH. Notable accomplishments include re-introducing urban mid-20^th century American society to its rural cultural antecedents and sowing the seeds that blossomed into a still vibrant subculture. Perhaps more importantly, along with Bascom Lamar Lunsford and Pete Seeger, they collectively and individually defined the role of a practicing vernacular musician-folklorist who operates outside of academia. The NLCRs’ deflation of academic ethno-musicological pomposity with excruciating puns, controlled silliness, and sparkling, authentic old-time musicianship motivated a multi-generational urban audience to personalize and re-invigorate traditional rural culture. Although the NLCRs’ penetration into mainstream consciousness was minimal at most, the band and its audience influenced the nature of mainstream culture with a very distinct stage whisper. But most importantly, the NLCR were and remain one hot little band, as evidenced by this outstanding collection.

This recording is a generous forty-eight cut retrospective of the Ramblers’ live performance career, ranging from a radio dub of “Soldier’s Joy” recorded in 1958 to “retrograss” experiments with Bill Monroe’s “Tennessee Blues” recorded in 1999. NLCR archivist Mike Seeger provided most of the material, which was assembled into the present collection by Jon Pankake in collaboration with the Ramblers. The intent was to create a program that conveyed the unique, joyous feel of a NLCR concert as well as to make available alternate takes and new live material. The entire breadth of the NLCR repertoire is covered. Examples of classic string band re-creations, solo ballad singing, Cajun music, jug-band blues, re-interpretation of material from cornerstone performers of traditional music such as Dock Boggs, early commercial country music, and newly-composed songs in traditional styles are spiced with trademark near-surrealistic humor concerning the travails of rural life in and around the imaginary hamlet of New Lost City. Most of the selections are intensely vocal-driven. The raw energy of the earlier live performances is captured and enhanced by the primitive recording techniques. Occasional ensemble raggedness contributes to the feeling of immediacy and excitement. The differences in musical approach shown by the original ensemble that included Mr Paley and the current line-up that includes Mr Schwartz are clearly discernible. The maturation of the Ramblers as a musical unit and the growth of their interpretative powers are fascinating to witness. Sixteen tracks are previously unreleased. A veritable treasure-trove is presented!

Since the previously released tracks (some appearing on the 1978 Flying Fish 2-LP set, "20 Years: Concert Performances") may be familiar to OTH readers, this reviewer chooses to highlight some of the newly released material. A performance recorded at Symphony Space (NYC) in 1995 (“Turkey in the Straw”, “Old Joe Clark”, “Rabbit Chase”, “Poor Old Dirt Farmer”, “Gonna Lay Down My Old Guitar”, “I’ve Always Been a Rambler”, “Three Men Went A-Hunting”) is one of the gems of the collection. The Ramblers are at the apex of their powers as interpreters of traditional music. Mike Seeger demonstrates how the lowly jaw harp can be used to deliver a virtuoso performance of “Turkey in the Straw” with a tongue-knotting patter-song vocal alternating seamlessly with the jaw harp’s metallic boinnnng. “Poor Old Dirt Farmer”, composed and performed by Tracy Schwartz, is a stark lament accompanied by an ominously droning DDAD-tuned fiddle. The song is indistinguishable from traditional material, and the presentation is a testament to Mr Schwartz’s uncanny skill at assimilating diverse traditional musical genres. Two interesting performances come from a 1972 concert at NYU. The Uncle Dave Macon chestnut “Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel” is given a supercharged full-band reading that threatens to flatten the audience, not unlike the aggressive approach taken by post-modern old-time bands such as the Old Crow Medicine Show. Tom Ashley’s “The Old Man at the Mill” receives a deep, mysterious reading, as belies the enigmatic nature of the text. An unusual selection was unearthed from a 1963 performance at Knox College (IL): “Orange Blossom Special” is given a good time, non fiddle-indulgent “train blues” treatment, complete with a running commentary on the Doppler effect. OTH readers who truly hate OBS should give this a listen! Outstanding among the previously-issued material is the side-splitting, rapid-fire “Arkansas Traveler” routine, which should take its place in the pantheon of word-play inhabited by Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s On First?”

Many of the recordings were not made on professional equipment, and a progression of sound quality from earlier to later performances is evident. This in no way interferes with the enjoyment of this release. A carefully annotated booklet is included containing full source, personnel, and recording details for each cut. Striking band portraits and an illuminating essay by veteran folk music commentator Jon Pankake round out the packaging. Also included are an extensive bibliography, filmography, and discography of Messrs Cohen, Paley, Seeger, and Schwartz, as well as references to important documentary musical collections produced by them. “40 Years of Concert Recordings” is, in this reviewer’s opinion, marvelously entertaining and absolutely essential listening for anyone interested in traditional American music. I cannot recommend it more highly.

Steve Senderoff

Beer, Humanity, and other Universal Considerations

Recently, a woman was mauled by a 200 pound chimpanzee. She was, and still is very close to death, and probably nothing more can be done for her. The chimpanzee was a lifelong pet of an acquaintance of the victim. It was raised as a human child in a misguided attempt to produce a non-human surrogate for companionship. Even though the owner and the chimpanzee bathed and ate together, the chimpanzee's genetically encoded instincts remained intact. The animal did not respond well to Xanax. He tore the victim's face off. Apparently, she had changed her hairstyle.

The animal's behavior is perfectly explainable. But it is not explainable to people who tend to anthropomorphise and "own" non-domesticated animals. Domesticated animals that have been integrated into human society are the result of countless generations of selection for physical and behavioral traits. If they weren't, my cat will probably bite my head off when I ask him not to sit on my computer keyboard. This unfortunate incident, which resulted unnecessarily in the maiming of a human and the death of a chimpanzee, proves my arguments concerning the corrosive effects of Disney movies upon American society.

How do we define "human"? Is it the ability to engage in meaningless violence? I am not sure I share the opinion that the violence exhibited by the chimpanzee is analogous to human violence. I am sure the chimpanzee thought he had a good reason to rip a woman's face off, unlike our former president's cynical perpetration of violence upon the Iraqi people. Is it the ability to use tools? Chimpanzees have been observed to use tools. Is it the ability to create natural language? I do not think we know enough about the details of animal communication to make a determination either way. Is it the ability to create formal language? I do not (thankfully) know of any animal-developed programming languages or technical jargon such as the word "chemoselective", which is a neologism that truly stinks to the ear. Is it the ability to create and manipulate religion? Certainly, my cat's ritual behavior appears to be a religious mimetic. The above "human" characteristics give an equivocal measure of humanity at best.

I believe the human species can be unequivocally and accurately defined by its unique ability (among all other species) to produce beer. Indeed, the intentional combination of a carbohydrate source, water, yeast, and flavorings in the presence of a container meant for storage of the resulting product is an exclusively human endeavor.

Da Financial "Industry"

It seems that JP MorganChase made some highly leveraged investment products (derivatives) available for purchase to institutional investors. Below is an excerpt from the corresponding story appearing today in the New York Times.

I'm going to annotate it as though I am having a conversation with my grandfather. Grandpa Harry was one of the most lovable members of my family. Interestingly, he controlled the laundry rackets in Brooklyn, Queens, and Manhattan with an iron fist from the 1920s until his "retirement" in the late 1950s. Let us just leave it at that, and see what Grandpa Harry would have to say:

From New York Times:
Leveraged notes issued by big banks like JPMorgan Chase (Stevie, never trust a bank unless they are, how do I say this, like us.) and Nomura became conduits through which fresh money flowed from institutional investors' hands into the Fairfield Sentry and the euro-based Fairfield Sigma funds, both run by the Fairfield Greenwich Group — and, in turn, into Mr. Madoff’s hands. (Stevie, Mark my words, this guy sounds like a shyster... He's getting laundered money.) The arrangement worked like this: Investors put up cash to buy the notes from the bank. In return, the bank promised to pay them up to three times the future earnings of the Fairfield funds (Stevie, this is too good to be true. When I loan money, the vig about 50%.) When the notes matured in five years, assuming the funds did well, these investors would get more than if they had invested in the funds directly. The bank collected just under 2 percent in fees, investors said. (Stevie, those Morgan guys must have their hands wet, too. How else could they hedge their bets?) And because the bank had to hedge its entire risk, it put up to three times the face amount of the notes into the Fairfield funds. (I told you, Stevie, and I bet you they will dump their position and not tell the other guys when things get meshugge!) Thus, Fairfield Greenwich got more cash to manage than it otherwise would have, increasing its own fee income. (Stevie, that's called a sweetheart deal!) To reward note-holders for making that possible, Fairfield paid them a so-called rebate of a fifth to a third of a percentage point a year. (Stevie, that's called a kickback!) ...Stevie, did they take your money? Well, don't worry, Grandpa Harry will set everything straight! I'll be back in about an hour.

If the legal investment world operates like that, I wonder what Grandpa Harry did to set everything right in this imaginary discourse. I'm glad I wasn't there.

Teachers

Most of my teachers were forgettable at best, and obstacles at worst. The exceptions were a high school English teacher who taught me to write, a speech therapist who taught me to speak, a chemist/research director who taught me to think, and a number of musicians who taught me everything else.

Here's a great teacher. An appreciation by David N. Adamson, BW ‘73, a fellow student.

ALAN P. SQUIRE

Alan Squire first entered the third floor clarinet studio of the Baldwin-Wallace Conservatory of Music in 1950 as Professor of Clarinet. A student of the legendary Daniel Bonade, he would remain in this position for the next 43 years, retiring in 1993.

Alan taught all the clarinet majors, the clarinet method classes and area high school students who shared his love for the instrument. He performed with the BW Faculty Woodwind Quintet, The Ohio Chamber Orchestra, the Blossom Festival Band, and the Lakewood Hometown Band, being as adept as a performer as he was a teacher. He also conducted the BW Concert Band and taught Music History when the need arose as well as directed BW’s Clarinet Choir, a true joy for him.

In the 1950’s the legendary conductor George Szell drove to BW seeking a new principal clarinetist for the Cleveland Orchestra. Mr. Szell knocked on Alan Squire’s studio door and asked him to fulfill this need with no audition. Alan declined the maestro’s offer as teaching was his first love and, in his own unique way added, “I have nothing to prove to anyone”. If this sounds a little arrogant, you have to have known Alan for he was the epitome of self-confidence and is it arrogance when one is factual?

There were numerous pictures of bands and orchestras on the walls of the Alan’s studio, showing him sitting principal clarinet in every one! One of his students noted this and asked him, “Did you always sit first?” He replied with his customary ‘self-confidence’, “since the day I was born”!

As rich as his professional life was, his personal life was unfortunately marked with tragedy. His son was killed in the 1970’s and during the last years of his life, his daughter died followed by his wife, Mary. He soldiered onward; often performing at his church in Missouri, “sharing his musical gift so unselfishly” noted a church member who represented his adopted family during his final years.

Alan Squire was a unique teacher, a gifted musician and a person of high intellect. His legacy is assured for his talent and personality impacted all who heard him play and/or benefited from his teaching. There are over 1000 students who occupied his studio and they now perpetuate his spirit and love of the clarinet and music. Perhaps some of us even pass on a “lauba, lauba, lauba” or “cha, cha chi” as we vocalize a musical passage for a student. Ok, probably not, but we remember hearing such from Alan and if only we could hear him utter those syllables one more time…..

Thank you Dr. Squire. We miss you.

The Hollow Men

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Images: Frances Reisman and Hubble Space
Music: Vincent Persichetti

Me and the Devil

"Weeping Willow" (trad.)
Jesse Black, gtr & voc

My alter ego.