Son House Does "John The Revelator"

This is pure gold, in sepia.

Down in the Valley (Week One)

I walked about all week long with song stuck in my head, singing it under my breath in the daytime and high over it at night. Gosh this song is unreal — it sounds so eerie, unearthly. Like it may be eaten by mountains or the singer may be gobbled by mountains, full of despair in a valley.

For some strange reason, I really wanted to draw a specific image I had in my mind; a man, tall, gaunt, lone with a big pack hanging with pots and pans and handkerchiefs that would clack as he walked. He has no face, no eyes and no tears, but he does have big blue boots, worn, from which blue paint leaks. Every step he takes leaves a mark.

I just heard Mississippi John Hurt's "You got to walk that lonesome valley" for the first time and while the melody and mood don't quite fit, the idea that "there's nobody here can walk it for him"fits just right. Sidenote: he's always wearing the same plaid shirt. What a man.

I couldn't draw this — goodness knows I tried. I just haven't got hands that can draw what's so clear in my mind. It's almost nightmarishly frustrating, but there you go. It didn't help that I was terribly intimidated by all the stunning art the rest of the class has created — I just feel I couldn't encapsulate the feeling I felt if I couldn't capture the picture in my head.

So I wrote a poem. I'm not quite sure I do the song justice, but there it is. I'm still working on scanning everything I create, but I'll have a scanned copy of it posted soon and transcribe it below once it's up.

Leadbelly's version is absolutely great, particularly because he was in jail himself and so he really made the song his own. He emphasized the jailhouse aspects of the song over the romantic aspects. It's stellar, but I guess I should say that I really identify Down in the Valley (at least the "traditional" version) with a woman's voice. I looked through some renditions of it and somehow this, suburban as it is, seemed to fit best:



I also found a song by a modern folk band called "Down in the Valley" that has no direct similarities to the original folk song, but is rather nice. There are some themes of incarceration and love which still stand:

Plus Rien Ne M'Etonne

Tiken Jah Fakoly

Ils ont partagé le monde, plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne

Si tu me laisses la Tchétchénie
Moi je te laisse l'Arménie
Si tu me laisse l'Afghanistan
Moi je te laisses le Pakistan
Si tu ne quittes pas Haïti
Moi je tembarque pour Bangui
Si tu maides à bombarder l'Irak
Moi je tarrange le Kurdistan

Ils ont partagé le monde, plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne

Si tu me laisses l'uranium
Moi je te laisse l'aluminium
Si tu me laisse tes gisements,
Moi je taides à chasser les Talibans
Si tu me donnes beaucoup de blé
Moi je fais la guerre à tes côtés
Si tu me laisses extraire ton or
Moi je taides à mettre le général dehors

Ils ont partagé le monde, plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne

Ils ont partagé Africa, sans nous consulter
Il sétonnent que nous soyons désunis
Une partie de l'empire Maldingue
Se trouva chez les Wollofs
Une partie de l'empire Mossi
Se trouva dans le Ghana.
Une partie de l'empire Soussou
Se trouva dans l'empire Maldingue
Une partie de l'empire Maldingue
Se trouva chez les Mossi
Ils ont partagé Africa, sans nous consulter
Sans nous demander
Sans nous aviser

Ils ont partagé le monde, plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne
Plus rien ne métonne 

Yes, Please

"After a rain in New York all the dogs that got caught in the rain, somehow the water washed away their whole trail and they can't get back home so about 4 in the morning you see all these stranded dogs on the street and they're looking like - won't you help me get back home, sir, please - excuse me sir - can you help me find my way back home - all makes and models, the short ones, the black ones, the tall ones, the expensive ones, the long ones, the disturbed ones, they all want to get home."
- Tom Waits


So, all I have to say is that I would totally marry Tom Waits.  His voice is like . . . a blackboard that someone threw a thousand glass whiskey bottles at until it was rougher than even an ocean would think possible.  Kind of like that.  There's something at once literary and wino-ish about him, a guy wearing a beautiful winter coat with its collar turned up shuffling through a rat-ridden alleyway at 3 am.  Kind of like that.  Like Bob Dylan, he's a white guy who knows how to make the blues his own.  Except he's aged a little more gracefully, if you can call his hatted-hunch-shuffle "grace".  Hell, you can.  Hell, I do.  Just like that.



Look at that cigarette.  And that pure glee!  And the hat, we can't forget the hat, because: 

84 out of 100 women prefer men who wear hats.  From an old subway car at the New York Transit Museum.   Yes, I am THAT obsessed with public transportation.  Actually, the museum is pretty awesome.  But I'm too sleepy to talk about it now.  I'm going to let Tom Waits sing me slow to sleep.  

I Miss The 90's

Poe, performing Trigger Happy Jack (Drive By A Go-Go)