Friday, Feb. 9, 2018 KSFR, Santa Fe, NM Webcasting! 10 p.m. to midnight Fridays Mountain Time Host: Steve Terrell 101.1 FM
Email me during the show! terrel(at)ksfr.org
Here's my playlist :
OPENING THEME: Buckaroo by Buck Owens
Trouble by Sam Outlaw
I've Endured by Stump Tail Dolly
Mama's Got the Catfish Blues by Tom T. Hall
Four Years of Chances by Margo Price
Gin and Juice by The Gourds
Out in the Smokehouse Takin' a Bath by Leroy Pullins
Pretty Polly by The Dead Brothers
Little Sadie by The Sadies
Sing a Worried Song by Legendary Shack Shakers
Starlings, Ky /Rain and Snow by J.D.Wilkes
Something's Goin' On by Jessica Lee Wilkes
Trucks Tractors and Trains by The Dirt Daubers
Invisible Hand by Legendary Shack Shakers
Parting Words by Sarah Shook & The Disarmers
I Love My Truck by Glenn Campbell
The Mermaid Song by Jim Kweskin
Buy My Snake Oil by Jello Biafra & Mojo Nixon
Snake Oil by Steve Earle
The Snakes Crawl at Night by Charley Pride
Man Overboard by Libbi Bosworth with Toni Price
Single Girl Again by Oh Lazarus
Pay Day by Laino & Broken Seeds
I Know Your Name by Dad Horse Experience
Looks Like I Killed Again by Slackeye Slim
Soul Mercenary Blues by Blues Against Youth &The Restless Livers Collective
Springtime of Life by Zane Campbell
The Hard Way by Turnpike Troubadours
E.T. Bass at Last Finds the Woman of His Dreams by Jim White
Cold Trail Blues by Peter Case CLOSING THEME: Comin' Down by The Meat Puppets
Want to keep this hoedown going after I sign off at midnight? Check out The Big Enchilada Podcast Hillbilly Episode Archive where there are hours of shows where I play music like you hear on the SF Opry.
A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican Feb. 9 , 2018
I’ve got a few things in common with J.D. Wilkes. For one, he lives in Paducah, Kentucky. My grandfather was born and raised in Kuttawa, Kentucky, a small town near Paducah. (My grandfather pronounced it “Ka-TOY.”) Another thing — Wilkes has been honored by his state as a “Kentucky Colonel.” Similarly, I’m a colonel aide-de-camp, that distinction having been bestowed upon me by former New Mexico Gov. David F. Cargo and former Lt. Gov. Walter Bradley. So we both know the pressures and responsibilities that such an office demands. We both were present at a Legendary Shack Shakers and Dirt Daubers show at the old Santa Fe Brewing Company in June 2012. (He was on stage. I was in the audience.)
But most important, both Wilkes and I are fans of American folk songs, blues, bluegrass, Gypsy jazz and swamp rock. (He plays it a lot better than I do. I do better in the audience.)
Wilkes’ love for this music and his ability to make it sound fresh, fun, and vital, is obvious in his new solo album Fire Dream, which will be officially released next week. This comes just a scant few months after the Shack Shakers’ most recent album, After You’ve Gone, which I’ll get to later.
Fire Dream, which was co-produced by Jimbo Mathus, is more eclectic than either the Shakers or The Dirt Daubers, a more country/bluegrass-based group that also featured Wilkes’ ex-wife Jessica.
A lot of the songs should sound familiar. There are at least a couple of tunes here — “Hoboes Are My Heroes” and “Bible, Candle and a Skull” — that Wilkes recorded before with the Shack Shakers. “Hoboes” was my favorite song from the Shakers’ 2010 album AgriDustrial. While both versions feature Wilkes’ banjo, the slower new version also has a dreamy violin and clarinet. The new take on “Bible, Candle and a Skull,” which first appeared on Pandelerium (2006), is also a departure from the more rocked-out original. On the solo record, Wilkes’ vocals are deep into the mix while a ghostly, tinkling piano and clarinet play an otherworldly tango.
Also here are a couple of venerated classics of rural America songs — a fine old outlaw ballad called “Wild Bill Jones” (first recorded by a woman named Eva Davis in 1924 but undoubtedly much older) and “Rain and Snow,” which I first heard as “Cold, Rain and Snow,” on The Grateful Dead’s first album but actually goes back at least to 1917, when it was collected in North Carolina by folklorists Olive Dame Campbell and Cecil Sharp in their compilation English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians. “Well I married me a wife, she’s been trouble all my life/Left me out in the cold, rain and snow.”
Tom Waits fans might hear some similarities between Wilkes and Waits in some of the tunes here. Their voices aren’t similar at all, but both are fond of Gypsy violins and Eastern European stomps. The song “Fire Dream” has serious echoes of Waits’ “Cemetery Polka.” And try to listen to “Moonbottle” without thinking of “Jockey Full of Bourbon,” I dare you!
Meanwhile, “Down in the Hidey Hole” has traces of metal and (might that be?) reggae. And “Starlings, Ky” might be described as lo-fi bluegrass, though the fiddle solo sounds suspiciously Cajun.
Fire Dream stands well on its own, but playing it side by side with the recent Legendary Shack Shakers record gives you a fuller glimpse of Wilkes’ artistry. As Shakers fans have come to expect, After You’ve Gone is a rocking, bluesy assault with some rockabilly overtones. This album comes closer in sound and raw spirit to roots-punk pioneers The Gun Club than past Shack Shakers efforts.
Though the music is more upbeat than Fire Dream, much of the subject matter, sparked by Wilkes’ divorce, is the personal, confessional kind of material that you might expect on a solo album.
There is something classic about break-up albums. Think Marvin Gaye’s stunning Here My Dear or Willie Nelson’s Phases and Stages or Shoot Out the Lights by Richard and Linda Thompson. Lots of the song titles here can be heard as Wilkes raging at his pain. In fact, the first words you hear on the opening track “Curse of the Cajun Queen,” are “Well, I feel so bad.”
The sax-augmented “War Whoop (Chief Paduke’s Revenge)” is pure anger. In the title song, Wilkes states his case clearly: “This place just ain’t the same/And I’m calling out your name/Just an empty echo/After you’ve gone.” And the hyped-up “Get Out of My Brain” shows just how hard a haunted psyche can rock. “You’re welcome to my heart, but stay out of my brain,” Wilkes pleads.
One of the most interesting cuts here is a cover song — a Bo Diddley-on-diet-pills version of a hillbilly classic, “Single Boy.” Usually this is done as “Single Girl” with a female singer. That’s how The Maddox Brothers and Rose recorded it back in the ’40s. And that’s how The Dirt Daubers recorded it with Jessica Wilkes singing just a few years ago. I’m not sure whether this is Wilkes thumbing his nose at his ex, or if it’s a private joke between them. Or what.
A little more subtle is the final song, “Invisible Hand,” in which Wilkes sings a pretty melody backed by what sounds like a player piano. And that melody seems hauntingly familiar. It took me a minute or two, but I realized that the melody is dangerously close to “Trucks, Tractors and Trains,” another Dirt Daubers song that Jessica sang. The Daubers did it upbeat in a jaunty bluegrass style. But the After You’ve Gone version is slow and sad.
Fire Dream shows a man still standing, made stronger by his musical roots. After You’ve Gone shows the storm he has endured.
* Los Lobos returns to Santa Fe Friday night, Feb. 9,with a 7:30 p.m. concert at Santa Fe Community Convention Center. The show is a benefit for the Española Valley Humane Society, which gets 100 percent of the proceeds. Tickets are $35 in advance; $40 at the door; and $100 (which includes a meet-and-greet with the band). Get tickets at holdmyticket.com.
Video Time
Let's start with the official video for Wilkes' "Walk Between the Raindrops"
Here's a live recording of "Wild Bill Jones"
The Legendary Shack Shakers "Curse of the Cajun Queen"
Yesterday was the birthday of Moran Lee Boggs, better known as Dock Boggs, was botn in Norton Virginia on Feb. 7, 1898.
Yesterday also was the anniversary of the death of Dock Boggs. He died in 1971 in Needmore, Virginia, about four miles from Norton.
Oh Death! You sure know how to ruin a birthday party.
Of all the early hillbilly singers, the banjo-picking Boggs was spookiest. His thin, terse tenor seemed to embody hard times and hard living.
Here's what Greil Marcus, on a 1994 road trip through Virginia coal country, had to say about the man called Dock:
Dock Boggs was born in Norton in 1898. For most of his life he worked the coal mines in the area, save for time as a moonshiner in the ’20s and as a professional musician between 1927 and 1929, when he recorded twelve sides for the Brunswick and Lonesome Ace labels. In 1963, at the height of the folk-music revival, he was rediscovered, right where he’d always been, and went on to record three albums and play festivals and concerts around the country. He died in Norton in 1971. He was—as Thomas Hart Benton had recognized from the first, pressing Boggs’s version of the old ballad “Pretty Polly” on anyone who would listen to it—possessed of one of the most distinctive and uncanny voices the American language has ever produced. On Boggs’s 1927 “Country Blues” a wastrel faces ordinary, everyday doom. The banjo, which as a white man Boggs plays like a blues guitar, presses a queer sort of fatalism: fate in a hurry. At the close (“When I am dead and buried/My pale face turned to the sun”—Boggs worms you into the old, common lines until you sense the strange racial transformation they hint at), the singing rises and falls, jumps and plummets in a rush, as if to say, Get it over with. In 1963 Boggs recorded “Oh Death”—“Won’t you spare me over for another year?”—and you can imagine Death’s reply, which would have been as fitting thirty-six years before. Sure thing, man, what the hell. It’s no skin off my back. You sound like you’re already dead.
Here's Dock's "Country Blues":
Here's "Oh Death," recorded in the 1960s when Boggs was getting older. It's starker, far less melodic, and, true to Marcus, more dead than the Ralph Stanley that everyone knows from O, Brother Where Art Thou?
Marcus also talked about another song Boggs sung, the ancient murder ballad "Pretty Polly," which he recorded in 1927.:
... in its English versions Polly’s pregnancy is part of the story. In Boggs’s version there is ... no mention of it — but there is something more, or anyway something else. The evil in his singing, a psychotic momentum that goes beyond any plain need to do-this-to-achieve-that, overwhelms the song’s musicological history. As Boggs sings, the event is happening for the first time and the last.
Hear the evil in his singing here:
One of Boggs' best known songs is "Sugar Baby." But it's not very sweet. It sounds like it's coming from a guy who truly hates his wife. The song has a similar line as one in "Pay Day," a Mississippi John Hurt song, also from the late 1920s. But when Hurt sings, "I've done all I can do and can't get along with you/ Gonna take you to your mama pay day," he sounds sweet, if sad. But when Boggs sings, "I'll send it to your mama next payday," a listener just hopes the woman does make it back to her mama. And when he sings, , "I'll rock the cradle when you gone," you hope he doesn't murder the baby too.
If this music is just too intense for you, calm your nerves with a good stiff belt of rub alacohol. Bottoms up and happy belated birthday, Dock!
So what do you do with all the fake news that's spewing forth on social media these days? Well if you're David Byrne, you make a movie with it.
That's what Byrne did back in 1986, while still a member of The Talking Heads. He took a bunch of twisted tabloid tales of the day and made them come to life in a little town in the middle of nowhere called Virgil, Texas.
Aided by his band, and a handful of other musicians -- including Pops Staples and Tito Larriva -- and actors including John Goodman, Spalding Gray, Swoosie Kurtz, Annie McEnroe and Santa Fe's own Jo Harvey Allen -- Byrne's True Stories was, in my book, the most under-rated movie of the '80s. It was a commercial flop, but it's one that I keep going back to, each one uncovering a new secret I'd missed before.
There is no real plot here, just wonderment. ... This movie does what some painters try to do: It recasts ordinary images into strange new shapes. There is hardly a moment in "True Stories" that doesn't seem everyday to anyone who has grown up in Middle America, and not a moment that doesn't seem haunted with secrets, evasions, loneliness, depravity or hidden joy - sometimes all at once.
Byrne's Polaroids of Virgil become an accumulative portrait that hints at unease in the heartland. ... When Byrne shows us that glowing neon stage out in that eerie emptiness, or The Invisible Hospital of St. John the Baptist, a great voodoo altar to love, ... he also fixes in our minds a view of the country he is unwilling to see vanish.
Here are some of the songs and scnes that made True Stories the wonder it is:
In this scene, featuring John Ingle, Byrne foresaw the rise of Alex Jones -- if Jones were backed by good music. Contemplate the "Puzzling Evidence."
In that scene the choir's keyboard player was none other than Tito Larriva from the influential Chicano punk-rock band The Plugz (and later Cruzados and Tito & Tarantula) Here is Tito's big solo spot in True Stories, a song called "Radiohead," featuring Tejano music titan Steve Jordan on accordion. I heard a rumor that some overrated band in the '90s named themselves for this song.
Pops Staples, known for his gospel and soul music with The Staples singers, appeared as a voodoo priest to invoke the trickster god Legba in this scene.
John Goodman, as the lovelorn bachelor Louis "The Bear" was the star of True Stories. He wrote a little song that, with the help of Papa Legba, won the heart of his true love. (And he's not a bad country singer!) What good is freedom? God laughs at people like us.
One of the most memorable citizens of Virgil, Texas was a lady known only as "The Lying Woman." She was portrayed by Jo Harvey Allen (wife of artist/musician Terry Allen) (This looks like a dead YouTube link, but it's not. Go ahead and click.)
"I wrote 'Billie Jean.' And half of Elvis' songs."
Sunday, Feb. 4, 2018 KSFR, Santa Fe, NM Webcasting! 10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time Host: Steve Terrell 101.1 FM
Email me during the show! terrel(at)ksfr.org
Here's my playlist :
OPENING THEME: Let It Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres
Good Morning Judge by Wynonie Harris
We're So Ugly by Hornet Leg
This Dog is the King of Losers by Bee Bee Sea
Close to Me by The Cynics
Blue Ether by The Loons
Wimp by Jean Caffeine
Black Eyes by Boss Hog
Pictures of Lily by Hickoids
Flesh Eating Parasite by Pocket FishRMen
You'll Bring Me Flowers by The Darts
Surrender My Heart by Pussycat & The Dirty Johnsons
Don't Look Down by Lovestruck
Sunshine Don't Make the Sun by Barrence Whitfield & The Savages
It's a Lie by King Khan
Mysterioso Blues by Harvey McLaughlin
You Keep Me Hangin' On by Vanilla Fudge
Saved by Lavern Baker
Manny's Bones / Walking Song by Los Lobos
Red Hot by Sam the Sham & The Pharoahs
Dick's Automotive by Rugburns
Late Night by Dinola
Stand by Your Ghoul by The Cavemen
1932 Berlin by Kult
Hell by The Bonevilles
Job 17: 11-17 by Johnny Dowd
Ride Cyclo by Yol Aularong
Gravy for My Mashed Potatoes by Dee Dee Sharp
I'm Not Satisfied by The Fall
In My Tenement by Jackie Shane
Lay Me Low by Nick Cave CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis
Friday, Feb. 2, 2018 KSFR, Santa Fe, NM Webcasting! 10 p.m. to midnight Fridays Mountain Time Host: Steve Terrell 101.1 FM
Email me during the show! terrel(at)ksfr.org
Here's my playlist :
OPENING THEME: Buckaroo by Buck Owens
I Got Mine by Tommy Collins
A Little Pain by Margo Price
Twelve Gates by Joe West
Heartache in Hell by Sarah Shook & The Disarmers
Texarkana Baby by Jason Ringenberg
Dirty Water by Salty Pajamas
Stranger by Houston Barks
Trying to Get to You by Tex Rubinowitz & Bob Newscaster
The Wreck of the Old 97 by Jim Kweskin
Dyin' Crapshooter Blues by David Bromberg
Hippies and Cowboys by Cody Jinks
Banded Clovis by Tyler Childers
Big Iron by Mike Ness
Up on the Hill Where They Do the Boogie by John Hartford
My Rough and Rowdy Ways by Dad Horse Experience
Black Lady Blues by Paul Burch
You Mean Too Much to Me by Big Sandy & The Fly-Rite Boys
A Day Late and a Darlin' Short by Clay Blaker
I Ain't Gonna Hang Around by Southern Culture on the Skids
Long White Line by Sturgill Simpson
Walk Between the Raindrops by J.D. Wilkes
Get Off My Land by Ramblin' Deano
One Good Gal by Charlie Feathers
A Woman Lives for Love by Wanda Jackson
Misty Blue by Wilma Burgess
Left to Right by Kitty Wells
Seein' Double by Nikki Lane
Drunkard's Prayer by Chris Stapleton
When I Get a Little Money by Chris Hillman
Howard Hughes' Blues by Laura Cantrell
This Old Road by Kris Kristofferson
I'll Think of Something by Hank Williams, Jr.
Darkness on the Face of the Earth by Willie Nelson
I Catch Myself Crying by Roger Miller CLOSING THEME: Comin' Down by The Meat Puppets
Want to keep this hoedown going after I sign off at midnight? Check out The Big Enchilada Podcast Hillbilly Episode Archive where there are hours of shows where I play music like you hear on the SF Opry.
Let's start with the immortal Queen of Gospel, Mahalia Jackson singing the anthem -- "We Shall Overcome."
This performance is said to be from "the late '60s" and might be from a European concert. It appears to be part of some kind of documentary. The actual songs ends right before the 4 minute mark. the last couple of minutes consist of biographical narrative.
Here is some actual Civil Rights history. It's The Freedom Singers (from the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee) singing "We Shall Not Be Moved" at the 1963 March on Washington.
The song is Sam Cooke's "A Change Gonna Come." The video is a scene from Spike Lee's Malcolm X(1992).
Bluesman J.B. Lenoir was known for writing topical songs from the day's headlines. "Down in Mississippi" probably is his most haunting.
Mavis Staples back in 2007 released an entire album of Civil Rights songs. Here's the title tack, "Eyes on the Prize."
I'm fortunate to have been able to see Odetta play live at a Thirsty Ear Festival a few years before she died. I believe she ended her set with this song.
I'll end this with Nina Simone. Titling this song "Mississippi Goddam" probably ensured it would never get any radio airplay to speak of back in 1964. But let's not kid ourselves -- if if she'd called it "Mississippi Gosh Darn" the lyrics are so direct and Simone's anger so palpable, commercial radio still would have been scared to touch it.
