Pete Seeger’s unlikely late-career resurgence continues with Live in ‘65, Appleseed Recordings’ latest contribution to the folk icon’s vast catalog. Culled from a performance at Pittsburgh’s Carnegie Music Hall, these previously unreleased recordings capture Seeger in his post-blacklist prime, leading a loudly appreciative audience through a 31-song set of standards, covers, and originals, including “Oh Susanna,” “Turn! Turn! Turn!” “This Little Light of Mine,” “Greensleeves,” and “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.”
The fidelity, as you might imagine, is a little suspect; though the tapes were cleaned up using the Plangent Process (recently used to tremendous effect on Woody Guthrie’s The Live Wire), they’re still more than 40 years old — and getting a pristine live recording out of Seeger was a tricky proposition anyway, because he had a tendency to move around the stage, and cared more about getting the crowd to sing along than putting himself squarely in the mix. The result is an album that sometimes sounds like it’s been swaddled in cotton, but believe it or not, that doesn’t make Live in ‘65 any less entertaining — in fact, I think it adds to its charm: Seeger sounds so loose and carefree here that the imperfections make perfect sense. (more…)
To be honest, I had my doubts about Day Two of Folk Festival 50. First of all, I was still tired from the day one. Next, it appeared that the lineup wasn’t quite as strong as it was on Saturday, and yet it was hard to deny that there were some compelling artists scheduled. The weather was also a bit iffy, with rain and thunderstorms predicted for the afternoon.
Josh Ritter was the first performer on the Fort Stage on Sunday, and he was one of the prime reasons that I was at the festival. I’m a big fan of the Idaho songwriter, and his set did not disappoint. He appeared with his full band, and they sounded great on songs like “Right Moves,” and “Real Long Distance” from Josh’s most recent album, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, and on the title track from his 2003 album Hello Starling. The real standout however, was one that Josh played solo, the beautiful and powerful anti-war song “Girl In the War.” He dedicated “Another New World” to Pete Seeger and Joan Baez. Not only is Josh a wonderful songwriter and performer, he comes across as a completely genuine guy, and the early audience at Fort Adams was very appreciative. (more…)
The word “legend” is sorely abused and overused by music journalists, just as the word “genius” is. I am as guilty as anyone else, but I have an excuse ready to go. The older you get, the more legends your life seems to take on. People who were just great musicians when you were younger take on a sepia-tinged status with the fog of time. Now that I’ve said that, I have to ask a more or less rhetorical question: how does a writer avoid using the word “legend” when he attends an event at which there are performances by Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Guy Clark, Arlo Guthrie, and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott? Legends all, no matter what era you came up in.
They called it Folk Festival 50 this year, but the event was a celebration of the of the birth of the Newport Folk Festival. It’s a long, twisted story, but a few months ago there was a real possibility that the great event would not live to see its 50th birthday. Then the man who started the whole thing in the first place, George Wein (who also established the Newport Jazz Festival in 1954), stepped in to make sure that his baby had life. Wein had sold the rights a few years back, and the subsequent owners had failed to meet some of their obligations. As a result, Wein returned, but he still hasn’t won the right to use the name that he honored for so many years. Hopefully that will change soon, and next year it will become the Newport Folk Festival again.
You may have heard of Newport, R.I., or even paid a visit. It is one of America’s playgrounds, famous for its great mansions, and as the home for sailing’s America’s Cup for many years. The city sits on a peninsula, surrounded by Narragansett Bay, and Rhode Island Sound. There are beautiful water views in every direction, and the city takes full advantage of its location. On the northern end of the peninsula sits Fort Adams. The Fort was established on July 4, 1799, and has been home to the festival since it was revived after a 15 year absence in 1985. (more…)
About a month ago, while I was working on my Soundtrack Saturday post about Shag: The Movie, I tweeted that I never got sick of hearing Lloyd Price’s version of the blues folk song “Stagger Lee,” which is what Annabeth Gish and Scott Coffey’s characters dance to during the shag dancing contest at the end of the movie. In fact, I think I listened to it about 20 times just in the few hours it took me to write that post. The first time I’d ever heard any version of “Stagger Lee” was while watching Shag, and every time I hear Price sing it, I think of that scene and just want to put on my shaggin’ shoes and go to town. (Okay, so I don’t really know how to shag, but whatever.)
Seeing my tweet about my love for Mr. Price’s “Stagger Lee,” the lovely Jeff Giles asked if I’d ever heard the version by Chris Whitley & Jeff Lang. I replied that I hadn’t, and within the hour an MP3 was waiting in my in-box. After listening to it and telling Jeff how much I liked it, a discussion about some of the other versions of the song began, ultimately leading to the idea of this feature, which I hope continues with the thoughts of members of the talented Popdose staff on other oft-covered songs.
Now, much has been written about the Stagger Lee story and even about the many versions of the song; I’m certainly not going to try and rehash everything for you here. Instead I’d encourage you to read this and this, and if that’s not enough Stagger Lee history for you, there’s always Wikipedia. Rather, what I wanted to talk about here is what I love about the song and its many renditions.
Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel gave the world something that has never been fully recognized, I think. Now, I enjoy folk music and several of its most recognizable proponents, but I cannot deny the inherent sanctimony of a lot of Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan’s most famous tunes. Sure, these were protest songs, and the subjective “us versus them” attitude was an obvious tack, but over time, some of these songs lost luster. Some lost it because of modern cynicism: “Yes, you’re outraged over this Tower of Babel. Where were you when it was being built? Is singing about it all you can do now?” Others lost it because of an overbearing quaintness, hymns to Ralph Waldo Emerson that smacked of being so out of touch, they might as well be alien transmissions.
So when Simon & Garfunkel burst on the scene, they freed up the voice and acoustic guitar from the tyranny of the right-minded (or the left, thinking politically). Their songs could be political, but they could also be nonsensical, traditional, and deep in their hearts they were always pop stars like their heroes the Everly Brothers; when they approached thorny material, Paul Simon did so as a writer, Art Garfunkel as a choir singer. When the duo was matched with a crack staff of Columbia’s studio musicians, the mass psychosis that plagued Dylan’s efforts in going electric didn’t affect the pair. Their saving grace was not simplicity but subtlety.
This all comes through on Live 1969, a collection of recordings from a tour concurrent with their finishing Bridge Over Troubled Water that year. They were on the verge of an acrimonious breakup that would result in years of sniping, famously documented in a “reunion” on the first season of Saturday Night Live in 1975. Fortunately, that subsurface nastiness is nowhere to be found here. Instead, the focus is hard set on the songs of two voices and often one guitar. You couldn’t get more traditional folk than that. And when they are backed up by other musicians, it’s never superfluous. The clearest example is when Garfunkel takes the stage, backed only by piano, to perform “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” Just as poignant is “The Sound of Silence,” the song originally intended for the stark folk treatment, then later filled in with studio musicians to produce the rock tune we recognize today. In it’s rawest, live incarnation, nothing is lost because it was always there from the start. When Simon palm-mutes the strings and thumps out a beat while moving toward the end section, it becomes as epic as anything they’ve ever done. (more…)
He’s happily existed on the outskirts of the pop culture landscape for the last few decades, but Pete Seeger’s influence is still deeply felt — and his music still resonates. Jim Brown’s excellent 2007 documentary, now reaching DVD for the first time, offers a wonderfully comprehensive overview of Seeger’s long career without sacrificing focus or momentum; even without prior knowledge of Seeger’s recorded output, anyone with a soul should find The Power of Song instantly absorbing.
Of course, even if you don’t know you’ve heard Seeger’s stuff, you probably have; his voluminous catalog includes a wide array of standards, both those he’s popularized and those he’s written (the latter category includes “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”, “If I Had a Hammer,” and “Turn! Turn! Turn!”). He’s one of the most beloved living folksingers in the world — which must be particularly sweet for Seeger, seeing as how he was blacklisted for nearly 20 years after having the guts to stand up to Joe McCarthy at the HUAC hearings — and censored by CBS for daring to perform “Waist Deep in the Big Muddy” on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. Yes, America, long before there was such a thing as a Dixie Chick, suits in boardrooms were terrified of a man with a banjo.
The Power of Song makes its case for Seeger with a stack of archival footage, some from Seeger’s own collection, and a series of interviews with artists he’s inspired, including Dylan, Springsteen, Peter, Paul & Mary, Bonnie Raitt, Arlo Guthrie, Joan Baez, and — of course — Natalie Maines. But Brown is careful to avoid didacticism; the movie is as inspirational and entertaining as it is informative, anchored throughout by appearances from Seeger himself, filmed as he wanders the grounds of the upstate New York property he purchased in 1949, where he and his wife of 65 years still reside. (more…)
Ah, the fourth quarter. It isn’t as much of an event as it used to be, but even as the music industry crumbles to dust before our very eyes, artists and labels continue to focus on the last few months of the year for the biggest glut of high-profile releases on the calendar, and 2008 is no exception.
Rather than punishing your eyes with a comprehensive fall music preview, or soliciting input from everyone on the staff, I decided to put together a list of the titles I’m either looking forward to (Lindsey Buckingham, Brian Wilson), need to hear to satisfy some dark, unexplained urge (Gym Class Heroes, Queen), or simply find interesting for some reason (Todd Rundgren, AC/DC). If you’ve been waiting for someone to tell you how to spend the “music” portion of your discretionary income for the next few months, look no further — without further ado, here’s my list of 21 fall releases to watch for.
In which one of country’s most freewheeling (read: consistently interesting) songwriters hooks up with Yep Roc for a song cycle that, if the press kit is to be trusted, is “about women.” You can be certain the songs do more than just live up to that simple billing, especially with titles like “The Rise and Fall of Intelligent Design” — and as an added bonus, our pal Joe Henry was behind the boards (and does a duet with Crowell on one track, “I’ve Done All That I Can”). What, you don’t like country? Yeah, me neither. But I’m buying this. (more…)
Pete Seeger’s unlikely late-career resurgence continues with Live in ‘65, Appleseed Recordings’ latest contribution to the folk icon’s vast catalog. Culled from a performance at Pittsburgh’s Carnegie Music Hall, these previously unreleased recordings capture Seeger in his post-blacklist prime, leading a loudly appreciative audience through a 31-song set of standards, covers, and originals, including “Oh Susanna,” “Turn! Turn! Turn!” “This Little Light of Mine,” “Greensleeves,” and “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.”
To be honest, I had my doubts about Day Two of Folk Festival 50. First of all, I was still tired from the day one. Next, it appeared that the lineup wasn’t quite as strong as it was on Saturday, and yet it was hard to deny that there were some compelling artists scheduled. The weather was also a bit iffy, with rain and thunderstorms predicted for the afternoon.
The word “legend” is sorely abused and overused by music journalists, just as the word “genius” is. I am as guilty as anyone else, but I have an excuse ready to go. The older you get, the more legends your life seems to take on. People who were just great musicians when you were younger take on a sepia-tinged status with the fog of time. Now that I’ve said that, I have to ask a more or less rhetorical question: how does a writer avoid using the word “legend” when he attends an event at which there are performances by Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Guy Clark, Arlo Guthrie, and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott? Legends all, no matter what era you came up in.
About a month ago, while I was working on my Soundtrack Saturday post about 
Paul Simon and 
, a collection of recordings from a tour concurrent with their finishing 
that year. They were on the verge of an acrimonious breakup that would result in years of sniping, famously documented in a “reunion” on the first season of 
Pete Seeger: The Power of Song
