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Gaslight Tapes
The Gaslight Café NYC

The Famous 'Gaslight' tapes have traded among collectors since the 60's, and individual songs have been available on various bootleg recordings since the early 70's. The Origins, dates, and performance orders have been obscured over the years. To my knowledge, there is no one bootleg package that contains the complete shows in proper song order. The longtime belief among collectors is that there were two Gaslight recordings. After much thought and investigation, it is now believed that there were actually three performances at the Gaslight. It has also been suggested that the final two shows might have occurred on the same day, or within a day or so of each other. Thanks to the cooperation of the club owners, and the management skills of Dave Van Ronk's wife, Terri Thal; songs from the various venues were professionally recorded on reel tape from a patch of the house PA. This resulted in incredible sound quality that can stand proudly alongside recordings produced by today's digital equipment. The songs from all venues have been combined on various bootleg releases. The performance orders have been all but abandoned. The songs from the July 2nd, 1962 Montreal show at 'The Finjan Club', and  the songs of the second gaslight tape were in wide circulation under the title 'Canadian Party Tape'. With all of this confusion, we have created this section in an attempt to show the proper performances.


The First Gaslight Café tape

The first Dylan recording made at the New York City folk music club called The Gaslight Café is one of the first ever recorded Dylan concerts. It marks the first known recorded concert of Dylan performing an original song. The six songs from the show of September 6, 1961 are know to collectors as 'The First Gaslight tape'.
The performance order is:

Man On The Street
He Was A Friend Of Mine
Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues
Song To Woody
Pretty Polly
Car Car
 
 

The Second & Third Gaslight Café tapes

These are the more widely circulated, and therefore better known Dylan recordings from The Gaslight Café. They have long been considered to have come from one long concert (They contain three times the songs of the 1961 show). Oddly, the date of this concert has never been pinpointed. It is now known that there were actually two separate appearances at the Gaslight in late October of 1962. Dylan was in and out of CBS studio NY during this time recording songs that would be released the following year as his sophomore album. The original songs performed here, however had not yet been recorded in their official release version. This tape is properly referred to as 'The 2nd Gaslight Tape'. Some simply call it the "The Gaslight Tape", and most combine it (out of performance order), with the 3rd tape. This adds to the confusion. The true 'Second Tape' marks the first known recorded concert of Dylan performing the original song 'John Brown'; and the second performance of 'Ballad Of Hollis Brown'. (It was performed a month earlier at the Carnegie Hall Hootenanny).

GASLIGHT #2-
Performance order:
Motherless Children
Handsome Molly
John Brown
Ballad Of Hollis Brown
Kindhearted Woman Blues
See That My Grave is Kept Clean
Ain't No More Cane
Cocaine
Cuckoo Is A Pretty Bird
West Texas

The true 'Third Tape' marks the first known recorded concert of Dylan performing the original song 'Don't Think Twice'  and the second performance of 'Hard Rain'. (It was performed a month earlier at the Carnegie Hall Hootenanny). The dates of the two concerts are still not known for sure, but they were definitely late in the year 1962, and possibly even on the same day.

GASLIGHT #3-
Performance order:
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
Black Cross
No More Auction Block
Rocks And Gravel
Barbara Allen
Moonshiner
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Bob Dylan. ©1963 & 1991.
Studio version released on 'Freewheelin' 1963 & 'Greatest Hits Vol 2' 1971

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music


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Ain't No More Cane
(aka: Go Down Old Hannah)
(Leadbelly)

Based on the most original version
AIN' NO MO' CANE ON DE BRAZIS
From American Ballads and Folk Songs, Lomax
collected from Mexico, Lightnin' and Dave Tippin at Central State
Farm, near Houston

It ain' no mo' cane on de Brazis
Oh...
Done groun' it all in molazzis,
Oh...

Better git yo' overcoat ready,
Well, it's comin' up a norther.

Well, de captain standin' an' lookin' an' cryin',
Well, it's gittin' so col', my row's behin'.

Cap'n doncha do me like you did po' Shine,
Drive dat bully till he went stone-blin'.

Cap'n, cap'n, you mus'be blin',
Keep on holl'in' an' I'm almos' flyin'.

One o' dese mornin's an' it won' be long,
You gonna call me an'I'll be gone.

Ninety-nine years so jumpin' long'
To be here rollin' an' cain' go home.

Ef I had a sentence like ninety-nine years
All de dogs on de Brazis won' keep me here.

I b'lieve I'll go to de Brazis line,
Ef I leave you here' gonna think I's flyin'.

B'lieve I'll do like ol' Riley,
Ol' Riley walked de Brazis.

Well, de dog-sergeant got worried an' couldn' go,
Ol' Rattler went to howlin' 'cause de tracks too ol'.

Oughta come on de river in nineteen-O-fo',
You could fin' a dead man on every turn row.
Oughta come on de river in nineteen an' ten,
Dey was drivin' de women jes' like de men.

Wake up, dead man, an' help me drive my row,
Wake up, dead man, an' help me drive my row.

Some in de buildin' an' some on de farm,
Some in de graveyard, some goin' home.

I looked at my Ol' Hannah' an' she's turnin'red,
I looked at my podner an' he's almos'dead.

Wake up, lifetime, hold up yo' head,
Well, you may get a pardon an' you may drop dead.

Well, I wonder what's de matter, somepin' mus' be wrong
We're stil I here rollin, Shorty George done gone.

Go down, Ol' Hannah, doncha rise no mo',
Ef you rise any mo' bring judgment day.

Ain't No More Cane
transcriber unknown
(As performed at the Gaslight)

Ant no more cane on th' Brazos
Oh... Oh... Oh... Oh...
They done grounded it all up to molazzis,
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m...

Shoulda' been on the river in 19 an' 10
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m...
They was drivin' th' women jus' like men
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m...

Shoulda' been on the river in 19 five
Oh... Oh... Oh...
Find yourself lucky to be alive
Oh... Oh... Oh...

Go down, Ol' Hannah, doncha rise no mor',
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m...
Doncha rise 'till judgment day.
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m...

Ant no more cane on tha Brazos
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m...
They done ground it all up to molazzis,
M-m-m-m... M m-m-m... M-m-m... M-m-m


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Ballad Of Hollis Brown
(Dylan. ©1963, 1991)
Studio version released on 'The Times...' 1964

The performance version is the same as the
copyright version below except for one extra verse

Hollis Brown
He lived on the outside of town
Hollis Brown
He lived on the outside of town
With his wife and five children
And his cabin fallin' down

You looked for work and money
And you walked a rugged mile
You looked for work and money
And you walked a rugged mile
Your children are so hungry
That they don't know how to smile

Your baby's eyes look crazy
They're a-tuggin' at your sleeve
Your baby's eyes look crazy
They're a-tuggin' at your sleeve
You walk the floor and wonder why
With every breath you breathe

[Extra verse from Gaslight performance]:
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
They's bedbugs on yer baby's bed
They's tsetses on yer wife
They's bedbugs on yer baby's bed
They's tsetses on yer wife
Gangrene snuck in your side
It's a-cuttin' you like a knife

The rats have got your flour
Bad blood it got your mare
The rats have got your flour
Bad blood it got your mare
If there's anyone that knows
Is there anyone that cares?

You prayed to the Lord above
Oh please send you a friend
You prayed to the Lord above
Oh please send you a friend
Your empty pockets tell yuh
That you ain't a-got no friend

Your babies are crying louder
It's pounding on your brain
Your babies are crying louder now
It's pounding on your brain
Your wife's screams are stabbin' you
Like the dirty drivin' rain

Your grass it is turning brown
There's no water in your well
Your grass is turning brown
There's no water in your well
You spent your last lone dollar
On seven shotgun shells

Way out in the wilderness
A cold coyote calls
Way out in the wilderness
A cold coyote calls
Your eyes fix on the shotgun
That's hangin' on the wall

Your brain is a-bleedin'
And your legs can't seem to stand
Your brain is a-bleedin'
And your legs can't seem to stand
Your eyes fix on the shotgun
That you're holdin' in your hand

There's seven breezes a-blowin'
All around the cabin door
There's seven breezes a-blowin'
All around the cabin door
Seven shots ring out
Like the ocean's pounding roar

There's seven people dead
On a South Dakota farm
There's seven people dead
On a South Dakota farm
Somewhere in the distance
There's seven new people born

Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music


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Barbara Allen
(Traditional)

In a diary dated January 2, 1665, Samuel Pepys speaks of the singing of "Barbara Allen." The English and Scottish both claim the original ballad in different versions, and both versions were brought over to the US by the earliest settlers. Since then there have been countless variations (around 100 are found in Virginia alone). The version here is the English one. The tune is traditional.

In Scarlet town where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin'
Made every youth cry Well-a-day,
Her name was Barb'ra Allen.

All in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swellin'
Young Willie Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barb'ra Allen.

He sent his man unto her then
To the town where he was dwellin'
You must come to my master, dear,
If your name be be Barb'ra Allen.

So slowly, slowly she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when there she came:
"Young man, I think you're dying!"

He turned his face unto the wall
And death was drawing nigh him.
Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Bar'bra Allen

As she was walking o'er the fields,
She heard the death bell knellin',
And ev'ry stroke did seem to say,
Unworthy Barb'ra Allen.

When he was dead and laid in grave,
Her heart was struck with sorrow.
"Oh mother, mother, make my bed
For I shall die tomorrow."

And on her deathbed she lay,
She begged to be buried by him,
And sore repented of the day
That she did e'er deny him.

"Farewell," she said, "ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in,
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barb'ra Allen."

Barbara Allen
(As performed at Gaslight)

In Charlotte town, not far from here,
There was a fair maid dwellin.'
Had a name was known both far and near,
An' her name was Barb'ry Allen.
'Twas in the merry month of May,
Green buds they were swellin',
Poor William on his death-bed lay,
For the love of Barb'ry Allen.

He sent his man down to town
To the place that she was dwellin'
Sayin', "Master bids your company,
If your name is Barb'ry Allen."

Oh slowly, slowly she got up
To the place where he was lyin',
And when she pulled the curtain back,
Said, "Young man, I b'lieve you're dying!"

"Oh yes, oh yes, I'm very sick
And I shall never get better
Unless I have the love of one,
The love of Bar'bry Allen."

"Don't you remember not long ago,
The day down in the tavern?
You toasted all the ladies there,
But you slighted Barb'ry Allen."

"Oh yes, oh yes, I remember well
That day down in the tavern.
I toasted all the ladies there,
But I gave my heart to Barb'ry Allen."

She looked to the East, she looked to the West,
She saw his pale corpse a-comin',
Cryin', "Put him down and leave him there
So I might gaze upon him."

The more she gazed, the more she mourned,
Until she burst out cryin';
Sayin', "I beg you come and take him away,
For my heart now too is dyin'!"

"Oh, father, father, come dig my grave,
Dig it wide an' narrow.
Poor William died for me today;
I'll die for him tomorrow."

They buried him in the old churchyard,
They buried her beside him,
And from his heart grew a red, red rose,
And from her heart a briar.

They grew, they grew so awful high
Till they could grow no higher,
An' 'twas there they tied a lover's knot,
The red rose and the briar.

In Charlotte town, not far from here,
There was a maid a-dwellin.'
Had a name was known both far and near,
An' her name was Barb'ry Allen.


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Black Cross
by Joseph S. Newman
(Dylan's version of this Joseph S. Newman poem was inspired by Lord Buckley)

"Black Cross" was published in 1948 by Joseph S. Newman in a collection of poems entitled It Could Be Verse. The poet was Paul Newman's uncle (Not his grandfather as claimed by Lord Buckley). He ran a sporting goods store in Cleveland, and wrote and published as a poet and as a local journalist. His collection included an appreciative introduction by the critic Louis Untermeyer, so it was hardly unrecognized in its time, though it is hard to find today.

Lord Buckley probably met Newman at some time. He recorded two of the other poems in his collection, "Jehova and Finnegan" and "Leviathan" as well as one, "Shah's Embroidered Pants," that does not appear in the book. Below you will find both the published version, and the poem as Buckley recorded it... though the differences are minor. The Dylan version, while keeping the story line intact, completly loses the rhyme and meter of the poem.
 

The original reads as follows:
Black Cross
Joseph S. Newman

Hezekiah Jones of Hogback County
Lived on a hill in a weather-beaten hovel
And all that he owned was a two-acre plot
And a bed and some books and a hoe and a shovel.

Hezekiah, black as the soil he was hoeing,
Worked pretty hard to make ends meet;
Raised what he ate, with a few cents over
To buy corn likker that he drank down neat,

And a few cents more that he put in the cupboard
Against what he called "de rainy season,"
But he never got to save more'n two or three dollars
Till he gave it away for this or that reason.

The white folks around knew old Hezekiah...
"Harmless enough, but the way I figger
He better lay off'n them goddam books,
'Cause readin' ain't good fer an ignorant nigger."

Reverend Green, of the white man's church,
Finally got around to "comin' ovah
To talk with you-all about the Pearly Kingdom
An' to save yo' soul fer the Lawd Jehovah!"

"D'ya b'lieve in the Lawd?" asked the white man's preacher.
Hezekiah puckered his frosty brow,
"Well I can't say 'yes,' so I ain't gonna say it,
Caze I ain't SEEN de Lawd....nowhere....no-how."

"D'ya b'lieve in Heaven?" asked the white man's preacher,
"Where you go, if you're good, fer yer last rewa'hd?"
"Ah'm good," said Hezikiah, "good as Ah'm able,
But Ah don't expect nothin' from Heaven OR the Lawd."

"D'ya b'lieve in the Church?" asked the white man's preacher.
Hezekiah said, "Well de Church is divided;
Ef they can't agree, than Ah cain't neither...
Ah'm like them....Ah ain't decided."

"You don't b'lieve nothin'," roared the white man's preacher.
"Oh yes Ah does," said old Hezikiah,
"Ah b'lieve that a man's beholden to his heighbash
Widout de hope of Heaven or de fear o' hell's fiah."

There's a lot of good ways for a man to be wicked...
They hung Hezikiah as high as a pidgeon,
And the nice folks around said, "He had it comin'
'Cause the son-of-a-bitch didn't have no religion!"

Lord Buckley's version:

It's a beautiful thing.

It was written by Paul Newman's beloved grandfather, in Cleveland,
a Cleveland poet. It's "Black Cross."

There was Old Hezekiah Jones, of Hogback County.
He lived on a hill in a weatherbeaten hovel.
And all that he owned was a two-acre plot
with a bed and some books and a hoe and a shovel.

Old Hezekiah, black as the soil he was hoeing,
Worked pretty hard to make both ends meet.
Raised what he ate, with a few cents over
To buy corn likker that he drank down neat,

And a few cents more that he put in the cupboard
Against what he called "de rainy season,"
But he never got to save more'n two or three dollars
Till he gave it away for this or that reason.

The white folks around knew old Hezekiah...
"Harmless enough, but the way I figger
He better lay off'n them goddam books,
'Cause readin' ain't good fer an ignorant nigger."

Reverend Green, of the white man's church,
Finally got around to "comin' ovah
To talk with you-all about the Pearly Kingdom
An' to save yo' soul fer the Lawd Jehovah!"

"D'ya b'lieve in the Lawd?" asked the white man's preacher.
Hezekiah puckered his frosty brow,
"Well I can't say 'yes,' so I ain't gonna say it,
Caze I ain't SEEN de Lawd....nowhere....no-how."

"D'ya b'lieve in Heaven?" asked the whiteman's preacher,
"Where you go, if you're good, fer yer last rewa'hd?"
"Ah'm good," said Hezikiah, "good as Ah'm able,
But Ah don't expect nothin' from Heaven OR the Lawd."

"D'ya b'lieve in the Church?" asked the white man's preacher.
Hezekiah said, "Well de Church is divided;
Ef they can't agree, than Ah cain't neither...
Ah'm like them....Ah ain't decided."

"You don't b'lieve nothin'," roared the white man's preacher.
"Oh yes Ah does," said old Hezikiah,
"Ah b'lieve that a man's beholden to his neighbahs
Widout de hope of Heaven or de fear o' hell's fiah."

There's a lot of good ways for a man to be wicked...
They hung Hezikiah as high as a pidgeon,
And the nice folks around said, "He had it comin'
'Cause the son-of-a-bitch didn't have no religion!"

Dylan's Gaslight version:
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
© 2002 Craig Pinkerton Bobsboots.com
It's interesting to note that the original writing was done as poetry, with the second and fourth lines rhyming.
Lord Buckley's version remained faithful. In a move quite uncharacteristic of Dylan, he takes quite a few
liberties, and presents Black Cross as a narrative. Completely dismissing the pattern, he uses no rhyme until the final verse.
Dylan forgets the verse that first alerts the listener that Hezekiah is black, and confuses the small amount of money that the man is able to store away for the Rainy Season when he couldn't plant; with books. That would have done him little good when he was hungry. One of the final lines, There's a lot of good ways for a man to be wicked... is powerful, and profound. But it was meant as a statement against the holier-than-thou lynch mob. Dylan blows the line by making it the preacher's quote. Most likely, Dylan had heard the poem a time or two, the story line captivated him, and he was anxious to repeat it without giving it quite enough thought.

This is the story o' Hezekiah Jones.
Hezekiah Jones lived in a place in Arkansas.
An' he never had too much, 'cept he had some land.
An' he had a couple hogs, and things like that.

'never had much money, but 'e,
Spent what he didn't make as fast as he made it.
So it never really mattered,
That he had much money.

But, in the cupboard there...
He kept in the cupboard...
Kept in the cupboard books.
He called, uh, the books his "Rainy Season".

White folks around th' county there talked about Hezekiah... They... said
"Uh, well-l-l-l... well ol' Hezekiah, he's... he's harmless enough.
but the way I see it he, uh, better put down them goddam books,
Readin' ain't no good fer an ignorant nigger."

One day the, uh, white man's preacher
Came 'round... knockin' on doors.
Knockin' on all the doors in the county.
'e knocked on Hezekiah's door.

'e sez "Hezekiah, you b'lieve in the Lord?"
Hezekiah sez "Well-l-l, I don't know,
I never really seen the Lord...
I can't say as I do".

'e sez "Hezekiah, you b'lieve in the church?"
Hezekiah sez "Well the church is divided ain't they?, a'they..
They can't make up their minds, I, wa' I'm just like them.
I can't make up mine neither".

'e sez "Hezekiah, D'ya b'lieve that if a man is good,
Heaven is his last reward?".
Hezekiah sez "I'm good.
Good as my neighbor".

"You don't b'lieve in nothin'!," said the white man's preacher.
"You don't b'lieve in nothin'!" "Oh yes I do!" sez.. Hezikiah,
"I believe... that a man, should be, indebted to his neighbor.
Not for the reward of a Heaven, or of a fear o' hell fire".

"But you don't understand!"
said the white man's preacher.
"There's a lot of good ways
For a man to be wicked..."

An' they hung Hezikiah... as high as a pidgeon.
White folks around there said
"Well-l-l... He had it comin'...
'Cause the son-of-a-bitch never had no religion!"


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Car Car
(aka: Riding In My Car)
(Woody Guthrie)
Dave Van Ronk plays guitar and hums the harmony part

Car Car
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed)

[Off mic] "I can't do that other one on tape"
"This is Dave Van Ronk... He's an ex-blues singer"

[Dylan and Van Ronk harmonize on a noise by humming
while blowing air over thier lips to imitate an old car engine.
Bob hums the lower part, and Dave does the higher harmony part]

They do this while humming an entire verse of the song.
This harmonized humming will be refered to as the "{chorus}".
There are also times when this same noise is used in place
of words in the song. In this case, "{hum}" will be used for each
syllable formed by this noise.

{Chorus}

Take me a-ridin' in a car car
Take you a ride in a car car
Take you for a ride, I'll take you for a ride
Lord, I'm goin for a ride in the car.

{Chorus}

Click-clack open the door, boys
Click-clack open the door, girls
Front door, back door boys and girls
We're goin' for a ride in the car.

{Chorus}

Ships in the sky go sailin' by
Dogs and the kitty-cat walk on by
ships 'n' the skies an' the bowlin'-bo
well, were alon' for a ride in-a car

{Chorus}

Engine that goes {hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}
Engine that goes {hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}
{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}
{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}
 

An' I'm a-gonna send you home again
I'm a-gonna send you home again
Sim-a-sum {hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}
{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}{hum}

I'm a-gonna let you blow the horn
I'm a-gonna let you blow the horn
"A-ooooga!" "ooooga!" "ooooga!"
Oh OOOGA [chukel] awrigh' ridin in the car.

{Chorus}

I'm a-gonna take me a ride in a car car
Take you a ride in a car car
Take you a ride, I'll take you for a ride
I'm goin' for a ride in a car

{Chorus}
[In this chours, Dylan hums the first and last lines; and plays harp over Dave on the 2nd & 3rd line]

{Chorus}
In the final chorus, Bob and Dave 'trade off' with Dylan playing solo harp on the 1st & 3rd line,
and Van Ronk does solo humming on the 2nd and final line
 
 


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Cocaine Blues
(Luke Jordan)
The following note on Luke Jordan is from a review of the Global Village CD - VIRGINIA TRADITIONS: Western Piedmont Blues. "Any fan of the pre-war blues will be familiar with Luke Jordan and his constant pursuit of cocaine. His two tracks were cut in 1929 and are followed by a hiatus that lasts until James Lowry cut his three offerings at a radio station in 1953.

(Dylan performs the Reverend Gary Davis' arrangement of this song)

Here is the original Jordan version:

Every time me and my baby go uptown,
Police come and they knock me down.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Yeah, baby, come here quick,
This old cocaine 'bout to make me sick.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Yonder come my baby, dressed in red,
She's got a shotgun, says she's gonna kill me dead.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Early one mornin', half past four,
Cocaine knockin' at my door.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

You take Mary, I'll take Sue,
Ain't no difference 'twixt the two.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Yeah, baby, come here quick,
This old cocaine 'bout to make me sick.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Started down Beall Street and I'm turnin' up Main,
Lookin' for a gal that sells cocaine.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Well, I reached into my pocket, grabbed my poke,
Note in my pocket said, ""No more coke.""
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Cocaine's for horses, not for men,
They tell me it'll kill me, but they won't say when.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Yeah, baby, come here quick,
This old cocaine 'bout to make me sick.
Cocaine run all 'round my brain.

Cocaine
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed at Gaslight)

Yonder come my baby all dressed in red,
Maybe I'm better off dead.
Cocaine r'all around my brain.

Hey baby, woncha' come here quick,
This old cocaine is makin' me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.

Yonder come my baby all dressed in white,
Hey baby, gonna stay all night
Cocaine all around my brain.

Hey mama, woncha' come here quick,
This old cocaine is makin' me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.

Yonder come my baby all dressed in blue,
Hey, baby wacha' gonna do?
Cocaine all around my brain.

Hey baby, woncha' come here quick,
This old cocaine is makin' me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.

M-m-m-m   M-m-m-m-m  M-m-m-m
M-m-m-m-m

Well I looked down 10th, an' turned up Main,
Lookin' for a guy they call cocaine.
Cocaine all around my brain

Then I walked down 10th street, turned down Beall
Lookin' for a guy they call Lucille
Cocaine all around my brain

Yonder come my baby all dressed in white,
Hey baby, gonna stay all night
Cocaine all around my brain.

Hey baby, woncha' come here quick,
This old cocaine is makin' me sick.
Cocaine all around my brain.

[The following is mumbeled incoherently]

M-m-m ga'jus a frien' outta' my hand
goddamn I gotta room on my head
Cocaine all 'roun' m'  [chuckle]  'rain.

I, Oh...
It ba' wen' it pons' eh


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Cuckoo She's A Pretty Bird
Recorded by Edna Ritchie, Jean Ritchie, Joan Baez, etc
tune from Sharp, English Folk Songs

The cuckoo she's a pretty bird
She sings as she flies
She brings us glad tidings
And tells us no lies

She sucks all sweet flowers
To make her voice clear
She never sings cuckoo
Till summer is near

She flies the hills over
She flies the world about
She flies back to the mountain
She mourns for her love

The cuckoo she's a pretty bird
She sings as she flies
She brings us glad tidings
And tells us no lies

Cuckoo Is A Pretty Bird
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed at Gaslight)

Oh, the cuckoo is a pretty bird
An' she warbles as she flies
But she never sings "Cuckoo"
'till the fourth day 'n July

I've a-gambled in England
I've gambled in Spain
'An I betchu' ten dollars
That I'll beatchu' next game

I'll build me a cabin
On a mountain so high
So I can see Mary
When she goes ridin' by

I wish I was a poet
An' could write a fine hand
I'd write my love a letter
Lawd she would understand
 


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Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
(Bob Dylan. ©1963 1991)
1963 Studio version released on:
'The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan' 1963
'Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Vol. 2' 1971
'The Essential Bob Dylan'  2000
Two different live versions are to be found on:
'Before the Flood'  1974
'At Budokan' 1979

It ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
It don't matter, anyhow
An' it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe
If you don't know by now
When your rooster crows at the break of dawn
Look out your window and I'll be gone
You're the reason I'm trav'lin' on
Don't think twice, it's all right

It ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
That light I never knowed
An' it ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe
I'm on the dark side of the road
Still I wish there was somethin' you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin' anyway
So don't think twice, it's all right

It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal
Like you never did before
It ain't no use in callin' out my name, gal
I can't hear you any more
I'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' all the way down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I'm told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right

I'm walkin' down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I'm bound, I can't tell
But goodbye's too good a word, gal
So I'll just say fare thee well
I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind
You could have done better but I don't mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don't think twice, it's all right

Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music


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Handsome Molly
(Traditional)

Traditionally performed version:

Wish I was in London,
Or some other seaport town;
I'd set my foot in a steamboat,
I'd sail the ocean 'round.

While sailing around the ocean,
While sailing around the sea,
I'd think of handsome Molly
Wherever she might be.

She rode to church a-Sunday,
She passed me on by;
I saw her mind was changing
By the roving of her eye.

Don't you remember, Molly,
When you gave me your right hand?
You said if you ever marry
That I'd be the man.

Now you've broke your promise,
Go home with who you please,
While my poor heart is aching
You're lying at your ease.

Hair was black as a raven,
Her eyes was black as coal,
Her cheeks was like lilies
Out in the morning grown.

Handsome Molly
(As performed at Gaslight)

Oh, I wish I was in London,
Or some other seaport town;
I'd put my foot on a steamboat,
I'd sail the ocean 'round.

While sailing 'round the ocean,
While sailing 'round the sea,
I'd think of handsome Molly
Wherever she might be.

Don't you remember, Molly,
You gave me your right hand?
You said if ever you'd marry
I'd be your man

But  you broke your promise,
Go with whom you please,
My poor heart is aching
You are at your ease.

I went to church last Sunday,
Molly came ridin' by;
I could tell her mind was changing
By the rovin' of her eye.

I'll go down to the river,
When everyone's asleep.
I'll think of handsome Molly
An' I'll begin ta weep.

So I wish I was in London,
Or some other seaport town;
I'd put my foot on a steamboat,
I'd sail the ocean 'round.


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He Was A Friend Of Mine
(Traditional. Copyright registered to Dylan for the arrangement)
(Bob Dylan. ©1962 MCA & 1990. No officially released version 'till 1991 'Bootleg Series 1-3')

He Was A Friend of Mine
(Copyright version Version)

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I think about him now
Lord I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine

He died on the road
He died on the road
He never had enough money
To pay his room or board
And he was a friend of mine

I stole away and cried
I stole away and cried
'Cause I never had too much money
And I never been quite satisfied
And he was a friend of mine

He never done no wrong
He never done no wrong
A thousand miles from home
And he never harmed no one
And he was a friend of mine

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I hear his name
Lord I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine.

CBS Studios, New York City, 11/20/61
Produced by John Hammond
Bob Dylan -- Guitar, Harmonica, Vocals
 

He was a friend of mine
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As Performed at the Gaslight)

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Never had enough money
To pay his fine
An' he was a friend of mine

He died on the road
He died on the road
Never had 'nough money
Or sufficient clothes
And he was a friend of mine

I stole away and cried
I stole away and cried
'Cause I never had 'nough much money
And I never been satisfied
And he was a friend of mine

He never done no wrong
He never done no wrong
A thousand miles from home
Lord, an'  he never harmed no one
An' he was a friend of mine

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Never had 'nough money
To pay his fine
An' he was a friend of mine

He was a friend of mine
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As Performed at the Finjan)

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I think his name
God, I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine

He died on the road
He died on the road
He never had that much money
To pay his room and board
And he was a friend of mine

I stole away and cried
I stole away and cried
'Cause I never had that much money
And I never been quite satisfied
And he was a friend of mine
 

He was never that bad
He was never that bad
He was a friend of mine
One of the very best I had
Yes, an' he was a friend of mine

He never done no wrong
He never done no wrong
A thousand miles away
And he never harmed no one
Yes, an' he was a friend of mine

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I think his name
God, I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine


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John Brown
(Dylan. ©1963, 1991)
No officially released version 'till 1995 'MTV Unplugged'

John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore.
His mama sure was proud of him!
He stood straight and tall in his uniform and all.
His mama's face broke out all in a grin.

"Oh son, you look so fine, I'm glad you're a son of mine,
You make me proud to know you hold a gun.
Do what the captain says, lots of medals you will get,
And we'll put them on the wall when you come home."

As that old train pulled out, John's ma began to shout,
Tellin' ev'ryone in the neighborhood:
"That's my son that's about to go, he's a soldier now, you know."
She made well sure her neighbors understood.

She got a letter once in a while and her face broke into a smile
As she showed them to the people from next door.
And she bragged about her son with his uniform and gun,
And these things you called a good old-fashioned war.

Oh! Good old-fashioned war!

Then the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come.
They ceased to come for about ten months or more.
Then a letter finally came saying, "Go down and meet the train.
Your son's a-coming home from the war."

She smiled and went right down, she looked everywhere around
But she could not see her soldier son in sight.
But as all the people passed, she saw her son at last,
When she did she could hardly believe her eyes.

Oh his face was all shot up and his hand was all blown off
And he wore a metal brace around his waist.
He whispered kind of slow, in a voice she did not know,
While she couldn't even recognize his face!

Oh! Lord! Not even recognize his face.

"Oh tell me, my darling son, pray tell me what they done.
How is it you come to be this way?"
He tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move
And the mother had to turn her face away.

"Don't you remember, Ma, when I went off to war
You thought it was the best thing I could do?
I was on the battleground, you were home . . . acting proud.
You wasn't there standing in my shoes."

"Oh, and I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here?
I'm a-tryin' to kill somebody or die tryin'.
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close
And I saw that his face looked just like mine."

Oh! Lord! Just like mine!

"And I couldn't help but think, through the thunder rolling and stink,
That I was just a puppet in a play.
And through the roar and smoke, this string is finally broke,
And a cannon ball blew my eyes away."

As he turned away to walk, his Ma was still in shock
At seein' the metal brace that helped him stand.
But as he turned to go, he called his mother close
And he dropped his medals down into her hand.


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Kindhearted Woman Blues
(Robert Johnson)

I got a kindhearted woman
do anything in this world for me
I got a kindhearted woman
do anything in this world for me
But these evil-hearted women
man, they will not let me be
I love my baby

my baby don't love me
I love my baby, ooh
my baby don't love me
But I really love that woman
can't stand to leave her be
Ain't but the one thing

makes Mister Johnson drink
I's worried about how you treat me, baby
I begin to think
Oh babe, my life don't feel the same Yo breaks my heart
When you call Mister So-and-So's name
(Break with guitar solo)

She's a kindhearted woman

she studies evil all the time
She's a kindhearted woman
she studies evil all the time
You well's to kill me
As to have it on your mind

Kindhearted Woman Blues
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed at Gaslight)

I got a kindhearted woman
Studies evil all the time
I got a kindhearted woman
Studies evil all the time
Oh, she wants to kill me
Just ta have it on her mind

She got a .32 special
Buil' a cross a-woo'
She got a .32 special
Buil' a cross a-woo'
I gotta 38/20
Man, that's twice as good

Sometimes I's thinkin'
"You're too good to die"
Sometimes I'm thinkin'
"You're too good to die"
Other times I'm thinkin'
"You outta be buried alive"


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Man On The Street
(Bob Dylan. ©1962 & 1990. No officially released version 'till 1991 'Bootleg Series 1-3')

Man On The Street
(As copyrighted):

I'll sing you a song, ain't very long,
'Bout an old man who never done wrong.
How he died nobody can say,
They found him dead in the street one day.

Well, the crowd, they gathered one fine morn,
At the man whose clothes 'n' shoes were torn.
There on the sidewalk he did lay,
They stopped 'n' stared 'n' walked their way.

Well, the p'liceman come and he looked around,
"Get up, old man, or I'm a-takin' you down."
He jabbed him once with his billy club
And the old man then rolled off the curb.

Well, he jabbed him again and loudly said,
"Call the wagon; this man is dead."
The wagon come, they loaded him in,
I never saw the man again.

I've sung you my song, it ain't very long,
'Bout an old man who never done wrong.
How he died no one can say,
They found him dead in the street one day.

Music and lyrics by Bob Dylan
Copyright © 1962, 1965 MCA
CBS Studios, New York City, 11/22/61
Produced by John Hammond
Bob Dylan -- Guitar, Harmonica, Vocals

Man On The Street
transcriber unknown
(As performed at Gaslight):

Well, I'll sing you a song, not very long,
'Bout an old man who never done wrong.
How he died nobody can say,
Found him dead in the street one day.
Well, the crowd gathered one fine morn',
The man whose clothes 'n' shoes was torn.
There on the sidewalk, he did lay,
Stopped 'n' stared 'n' went their way.

Well, the policeman come, he looked around,
"Get up, old man, or I'm takin' you down."
He jabbed him once with his bully [sic] club,
The old man then rolled off the curb.

Well, he jabbed him again, loudly said,
"Call the wagon -- this man is dead."
The wagon come, they loaded in him [sic],
Never saw the man again.
Well, I sung you my song, it ain't very long,
'Bout an old man who never done wrong.
How he died no one can say,
Found him dead in the street one day.
 


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Moonshiner
(aka: Kentucky Moonshiner, Moonshiner Blues)

(Traditional)
I've been a moonshiner for seventeen years
I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer
In a wild lonesome hollow I'll build me own still
And I'll make you a gallon for a two dollar bill

I'll go to some grocery, I'll drink with my friends
No body to follow me to see what I spend
God bless those pretty women, I wish they was mine
Their breath is as sweet as the dew on the vine

Well its cornbread when I'm hungry, corn likker when I'm dry
And its greenbacks when I'm hard up and religion when I die
The world's but a bottle and life's but a dram
When the bottle is empty, it ain't worth a damn


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 Motherless Children
(Recorded by Rev.Gary Davis & Blind Willie Johnson)

Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone
Wanderin' 'round from door to door
They don't have no place to go
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone.

Some people say, "Sister will do when your mother is gone."
Some people say, "Sister will do when your mother is gone."
Some people say "Your sister will do"
Soon as she marries, turn her back on you.
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone.

Your wife or your husband may be good to you when your mother is gone.
Your wife or your husband may be good to you when your mother is gone.
Wife or your husband may be good to you,
Nobody treat you like your mother do.
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone.

Some people say, "Your auntie will do when your mother is gone."
Some people say, "Your auntie will do when your mother is gone."
Some people say "Your auntie will do"
Make a start, and then prove untrue.
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone.

Jesus will be a Father to you when your mother is gone.
Jesus will be a Father to you when your mother is gone.
Jesus will be a Father to you
In pain and sorrow He will lead you through.
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is gone.

Motherless children
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed at Gaslight)

Motherless children run a hard road when yer mother's dead
Motherless children run a hard road when yer mother is dead
Motherless children run a hard road
A hard road. a hard road
Motherless children run a hard road when your mother is dead

Your Father will do the best he can when your mother is dead
Your Father will do the best he can when your mother is dead
Your Father will do the best he can
But he jus' does not understand
Motherless children run a hard road when yer mother is dead
 

An' some people say, "Your sister might do when your mother's dead."
An' some people say, "Your sister might do when your mother is dead."
Some people say "Your sister will do"
Soon as she marries, turn yer back on you.
Motherless children run a hard road when yer mother is dead
 

You can dig my grave with a bloody spade when I'm dead
You can dig my grave with a bloody spade when I'm dead
You can dig my grave with a bloody spade
See that my digger gets well paid
Motherless children run a hard road when yer mother is dead

Jesus won't be no mother to you when your mother is dead
Jesus won't be no mother to you when your mother is dead
Jesus won't be no mother to you
His trials and tribulations won't see you through
Motherless children run a hard road when yer mother is dead


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No More Auction Block
(aka: Many Thousand Gone) (Traditional)
This 'Gaslight' version of the song was released on the CBS LP 'The Bootleg Series, Volumes 1-3'
Dylan obtained copyright in 1991 for the song arrangement
Bob Dylan -- Guitar, Vocals

No more auction block for me
No more, no more
No more auction block for me
Many thousands gone

No more driver's lash for me
No more, no more
No more driver's lash for me
Many thousands gone

No more whip lash for me
No more, no more
No more pint of salt for me
Many thousands gone

No more auction block for me
No more, no more
No more auction block for me
Many thousands gone


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Pretty Polly
(Traditional)
A setting of a famous tune, sometimes known as The Demon Lover.
This is one of several versions from Cecil Sharp's anthology.
The text deals with pregnancy, delusion, murder & ghosts.

I courted pretty Polly the livelong night
I courted pretty Polly the livelong night
Then left her the next morning before it was light.
"Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, come go along with me,
Before we get married, some pleasures to see."

She jumped up behind him and away they did go
Over the hills and the valley below.

They went a little further, and what did they spy;
A new dug grave and a spade laying by.

"Oh Willie, oh Willie, I'm afraid of your way.
I'm afraid you'll lead my poor body astray."

"Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, you've guessed about right;
For I slept on your grave the best part of last night."

He throwed her on the ground and she broke into tears;
She throwed her arms around him and trembled with fear.

There's no time to talk now, there's no time to stand;
He drew out his knife all in his right hand.

He stabbed her in the heart and the blood it did flow;
And in to the grave pretty Polly did go.

He put on a little dirt and he started for home;
Leaving no one behind but the birdies to moan.

A debt to the devil Willie must pay;
For killing poor Polly and running away.

Pretty Polly
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed at Gaslight)

(fade in)

"Oh Willie, oh Willie, I'm scared of your ways.
I'm scared that you'll lead my poor body astray."

"Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, you've guessed just about right;
"Oh, Polly, pretty Polly, you've guessed just about right;
For I dug on your grave the best part of last night."

She threw her arms around him and she began to cry
She threw her arms around him and she began to cry
"How can you kill a woman that loves you such as I?"

There's no time to talk now, there's no time to stand;
There's no time to talk now, there's no time to stand;
He drew out his dagger all in his right hand.

He pierced  her in the heart and her life blood did run;
He pierced  her in the heart and her life blood did flow;
Deep in 'he grave pretty Polly did go.

He threw the dirt around her and then he went home;
He threw the dirt around her and then he went home;
Leaving nobody there but the wild birds to moan.

A debt to the devil Willie must pay;
A debt to the devil Willie must pay;
For killing pretty Polly and running away.

Oh, Willie, pretty Polly, o'er yonder she stands;
Oh, Willie, pretty Polly, o'er yonder she stands;
No rings on the fingers of her lilly white hands.

No rings on the fingers of her lilly white hands.
 


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Rocks And Gravel (aka: Solid Road)
(Traditional. Brownie McGhee & Leroy Carr)

Dylan was evidently issued a copyright for this song as well, although the basis for it is not clear
Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music
 

Takes rocks and gravel, baby, make a solid road,
Make a solid road.
Takes rocks and gravel, baby, make a solid road,
Make a solid road.

Takes a good woman mama,
To satisfy my weary soul.

Have you ever been down on that Mobil and K. C. line,
Have you ever been down on that Mobil and K. C. line?

Well I just wanna ask you,
If you seen that gal of mine,
Don't the clouds look lonesome shining across the sea,
Don't the clouds look lonesome shining across the sea,
Don't my gal look good,
When she's comin' after me?


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See That My Grave's Kept Clean
(Blind Lemon Jefferson)
20074-2  Document DOCD-5018
Copyright © 1927

See That My Grave Is Kept Clean
(As performed at Gaslight)

Well, there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
Well, there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
There's one kind favor I'll ask of you
Please see that my grave is kept clean

Have you ever seen that hearse wagon roll outta town?
Have you ever seen that hearse wagon roll outta town?
Have you ever seen it roll outta town?
An' I believe ya know what I'm talkin' about

Have you ever heard that coffin sound
Have you ever heard that coffin sound
Have you ever heard that coffin sound
Means another poor boy's under ground.

You can dig my grave with a bloody spade
You can dig my grave with a bloody spade
You can dig my grave with a bloody spade
Please see that my digger gets well paid

Well, there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
An' there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
Well, there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
Please see that my grave is kept clean


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Song To Woody
Bob Dylan
Copyright © 1962; renewed 1990 MCA
Official release version: 'Bob Dylan' (First LP)
(Although Dylan was issued copyright for the song, only the lyrics are his)
The music was lifted directly from Woody Guthrie's "1913 Massacre"

Song To Woody
I'm out here a thousand miles from my home,
Walkin' a road other men have gone down.
I'm seein' your world of people and things,
Your paupers and peasants and princes and kings.

Hey, hey Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song
'Bout a funny ol' world that's a-comin' along.
Seems sick an' it's hungry, it's tired an' it's torn,
It looks like it's a-dyin' an' it's hardly been born.

Hey, Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know
All the things that I'm a-sayin' an' a-many times more.
I'm a-singin' you the song, but I can't sing enough,
'Cause there's not many men that done the things that you've done.

Here's to Cisco an' Sonny an' Leadbelly too,
An' to all the good people that traveled with you.
Here's to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind.

I'm a-leaving' tomorrow, but I could leave today,
Somewhere down the road someday.
The very last thing that I'd want to do
Is to say I've been hittin' some hard travelin' too.


1913 MASSACRE
(Woody Guthrie Copyright © 1944)
Lyrics as reprinted in liner notes for Woody Guthrie, "Struggle", originally published in 1946.
© 1961 Sanga Music Inc., New York, NY

Take a trip with me in 1913,
To Calumet, Michigan, in the copper country.
I will take you to a place called Italian Hall,
Where the miners are having their big Christmas ball.

I will take you in a door and up a high stairs,
Singing and dancing is heard everywhere,
I will let you shake hands with the people you see,
And watch the kids dance around the big Christmas tree.

You ask about work and you ask about pay,
They'll tell you they make less than a dollar a day,
Working the copper claims, risking their lives,
So it's fun to spend Christmas with children and wives.

There's talking and laughing and songs in the air,
And the spirit of Christmas is there everywhere,
Before you know it you're friends with us all,
And you're dancing around and around in the hall.

Well a little girl sits down by the Christmas tree lights,
To play the piano so you gotta keep quiet,
To hear all this fun you would not realize,
That the copper boss' thug men are milling outside.

The copper boss' thugs stuck their heads in the door,
One of them yelled and he screamed, "there's a fire,"
A lady she hollered, "there's no such a thing.
Keep on with your party, there's no such thing."

A few people rushed and it was only a few,
"It's just the thugs and the scabs fooling you,"
A man grabbed his daughter and carried her down,
But the thugs held the door and he could not get out.

And then others followed, a hundred or more,
But most everybody remained on the floor,
The gun thugs they laughed at their murderous joke,
While the children were smothered on the stairs by the door.

Such a terrible sight I never did see,
We carried our children back up to their tree,
The scabs outside still laughed at their spree,
And the children that died there were seventy-three.

The piano played a slow funeral tune,
And the town was lit up by a cold Christmas moon,
The parents they cried and the miners they moaned,
"See what your greed for money has done."
 


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Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues
(Bob Dylan. ©1962 & 1990. No officially released version 'till 1991 'Bootleg Series 1-3')

Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues
(Copyright version)

I saw it advertised one day,
Bear Mountain picnic was comin' my way.
"Come along 'n' take a trip,
We'll bring you up there on a ship.
Bring the wife and kids
Bring the whole family."
Yippee!

Well, I run right down 'n' bought a ticket
To this Bear Mountain Picnic.
But little did I realize
I was in for a picnic surprise.
Had nothin' to do with mountains.
I didn't even come close to a bear.

Took the wife 'n' kids down to the pier,
Six thousand people there,
Everybody had ticket for the trip.
"Oh well." I said, "it's a pretty big ship.
Besides, anyway, the more the merrier."

Well, we all got on 'n' what d'ya think,
That big old boat started t' sink
More people kept a-pilin' on,
That old ship was a-slowly goin' down.
Funny way t' start a picnic.

Well, I soon lost track of m' kids 'n' wife,
So many people there I never saw in m' life
That old ship sinkin' down in the water,
Six thousand people tryin' t' kill each other,
Dogs a-barkin', cats a-meowin',
Women screamin', fists a-flyin', babies cryin',
Cops a-comin', me a-runnin'.
Maybe we just better call off the picnic.

I got shoved down 'n' pushed around,
All I could hear there was a screamin' sound,
Don't remember one thing more,
Just remember walkin' up on a little shore,
Head busted, stomach cracked,
Feet splintered, I was bald, naked. . .
Quite lucky to be alive though.

Feelin' like I climbed outa m' casket,
I grabbed back hold of m' picnic basket.
Took the wife 'n' kids 'n' started home,
Wishin' I'd never got up that morn.

Now, I don't care just what you do,
If you wanta have a picnic, that's up t' you.
But don't tell me about it, I don't wanta hear it,
'Cause, see, I just lost all m' picnic spirit.
Stay in m' kitchen, have m' own picnic. . .
In the bathroom.

Now, it don't seem to me quite so funny
What some people are gonna do f'r money.
There's a bran' new gimmick every day
Just t' take somebody's money away.
I think we oughta take some o' these people
And put 'em on a boat, send 'em up to Bear Mountain . . .
For a picnic.

Music and lyrics by Bob Dylan
Copyright © 1962, 1965 MCA
CBS Studios, New York City, 4/25/62
Produced by John Hammond
Bob Dylan -- Guitar, Harmonica, Vocals

Bear Mountain
transcribed by CD Pinkerton
(As performed at the Gaslight)

(Fades in...)
An' little kids thrown off the boat
An' the boat was sinkin' down in the water
So many people
Um-m-m ...  policeman come, fireman come was
Rescuing all these women floatin' around in the water
Old women, long women, little kids, dogs, cats
An' all they wanted to do is just take a trip up to Bear Mountain
An' have a picnic
I call this one ... um-m ... 'Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Disaster Blues'

I saw it advertised one day,
Bear Mountain picnic was comin' my way.
"Come along with us 'n' take a trip,
We'll transport you up there on a ship.
Bring the wife and kids
Fun for all."
Yippee!

Well, I run right down 'n' bought a ticket
To this here thing called the 'Bear Mountain Picnic'
But little did I realize
I was in for a nice, pleasant surprise.
Had nothin' to do with picnics.
Didn't come close to a mountain.
I'm scared a' bears.

Took the wife 'n' kids down to the pier,
Six thousand people there,
Everybody had a ticket for the trip.
"Oh well." I said, "it's a pretty big ship.
Besides, the more the merrier."

Well, they all got on 'n' what d'ya think,
That big old boat started t' sink
More people kept a-pilin' on,
That old ship was a-goin' down.
Hey! this ain't no way t' start a picnic.

Well, I soon lost track of m' kids 'n' wife,
So many people I never saw in m' life
That old ship sinkin' down in the water,
Six thousand people tryin' t' fight each other,
Dogs a-barkin', kids a-squalin'
Women cryin', fists a-flyin',
Maybe we just better just call off the picnic.

I got shoved down 'n' pushed around,
All I could hear was a moanin' sound,
Don't remember any more,
Got knocked out an' woke up on the shore,
My arms was busted, feet were cracked,
Couldn't walk, couldn't see
Couldn't talk, couldn't feel. . .
Lucky to be alive though.

Feelin' like I climbed outa m' casket,
I grabbed back hold of m' picnic basket.
Took the wife 'n' kids 'n' started home,
Wishin' I'd never got up that morn.
Cursin' picnics.

Now, I don't care just what you do,
If you wanta have a picnic, that's up t' you.
But don't tell me about it, I don't wanta hear it,
See, I lost all a' my picnic spirit.
Stay in m' kitchen, have a picnics in my bathroom.

Well, it don't seem to me quite so funny
What some a' these people are gonna do f'r money.
There's a bran' new gimmick every day
Just t' take somebody's money away.
I think we oughta take all these people
And put 'em on a boat, send 'em up to Bear Mountain . . .
For a picnic.


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West Texas
transcriber unknown
(Traditional)
(As performed at Gaslight)

I'm goin' down to West Texas
Behind the Louisiana line
I'm goin' down to West Texas
Behind the Louisiana line
Get me a fortune tellin' woman
One that's gonna read my mind

If you ever go to Dallas
Take the right hand road
If you ever go to Dallas
Take the right hand road
Those western Dallas streets, boys
They' bound ta kill ya fo' sho'

I'm goin' down to Jack Rabbit's
Past the west Texas line
I'm goin' down to Jack Rabbit's
Behind the Texas line
Eh they's stars up above
Lord it's my a-leavin' m' sign

Well you never miss your water
'till the well runs dry
An' you never miss your water
'Till the well runs dry
An' you never miss your man
'till he says "Good-bye"

You can write an' tell m' Mama
I won't be comin' home tonight
You can write an' tell my Mother
I won't be home tonight
 

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© 2001 Craig Pinkerton - Site by eve, Incorporated

 
 
 
 


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Blind Lemon Jefferson

Considering he was the most popular male blues recording artist of the 1920s, we know surprisingly little about Blind Lemon Jefferson. The bare bones of his biography are as follows. He was born in Couchman, near Wortham in Freestone County, Texas; probably sometime in July of 1897. Lemon was blind from childhood, possibly even from birth. Like Sonny Terry, he may have had some residual sight (which would explain his wearing clear, rather than dark, glasses.) Between 1925 and 1929, he made at least 100 recordings (including alternate versions of some songs). Jefferson had 43 records issued, and all but one on the Paramount label. He died in Chicago under mysterious circumstances towards the end of December, 1929. Taken back to Texas by pianist Will Ezell, Jefferson was buried at the Wortham Cemetery;', reputedly on New Year's Day, 1930.

Jefferson inspired a generation of male bluesmen, but had few imitators due to the complexity of his guitar playing and the distinctiveness of his high, clear voice.
As a young man, Jefferson took up the guitar and became a street musician, playing in Wortham and nearby East Texas towns like Groesbeck (mentioned in his Penitentiary Blues), Buffalo, and Marlin (The birthplace of Blind Willie Johnson). Drawn to the city of Dallas sometime before 1917, he became a resident there, playing in the area centered on 'Deep Ellum' (The Dallas equivalent of Memphis' Beale Street). It was here that he met up with Leadbelly who was nearly ten years older than Lemon, and was already a seasond musician with a large repertoire of songs. Nonetheless, it was the younger man who had the greater command of the blues. Many years later, Leadbelly paid tribute to Lemon's greatness by recording several pieces inspired by Jefferson's playing (notably, Blind Lemon's Blues.) For an indeterminate period of time, they played together in Dallas. From 1918 to 1924, Leadbelly served a prison sentence and returned home to Louisiana after release, so their association may have been relatively brief.

As his reputation grew, Lemon started traveling further afield to play. By the early 1920s, he played in most Southern states (if all reports are to be believed). The lyrics to some of his songs certainly seem to suggest a familiarity with many different musical locales.He most certainly penetrated the Mississippi Delta/Memphis region, where there was lucrative work for an itinerant bluesman. How did he travel so widely? Presumably by train, riding boxcars or sometimes paying his fare. The stories of Lemon being led around by various blues singers can probably be dismissed as, by other accounts, he had, like Blind Willie McTell in Georgia, an uncanny ability to get around. Both Jefferson and McTell display vivid visual imagery in their lyrics, perhaps stemming from, to borrow a phrase from Stevie Wonder, "inner visions."
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Edited from Bill Salmon's Blind Lemon page
 


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Leadbelly

Born Huddie William Ledbetter, on Jeter Plantation in Mooringsport Louisiana, on January 29 1885 (though this date is disputed). Died of lateral sclerosis, in New York, on December 6, 1949. The nickname "Leadbelly" was acquired in prison and referred to his physical toughness.

1885 - 1916
Huddie was born into a relatively prosperous negro family, who farmed land, first as sharecroppers in Lousiana, then as landowners in Texas, near the Louisiana border. Always precocious, an only child doted on by parents Wes and Sally Ledbetter, he fathered a child at age 15, scandalizing the local community. Taught to play accordion, and then guitar by his uncle Terrel Ledbetter, he soon blossomed and began to employ his talents at local "sukey-jump" parties, and down on Shreveport's notorious Fannin Street. In a song he recorded later, Follow Me Down, Leadbelly recalled how his mother begged him to stay away from Fannin Street.

After fathering a second child at age 16, Huddie left home to wander, propelled by the outraged community. He became by turns an itinerant minstrel and a farm labourer, returning at least once to recover from a serious illness. During this time he married his first wife "Lethe". He would recall later that he had roamed around Dallas with the legendary blues singer Blind Lemon Jefferson. Blind Lemon would go on to sell over a million "race records" during the 1920s, to the emergent black market, but nevertheless die a pauper. Though Blind Lemon was Huddie's junior, Leadbelly would later pay tribute to him in (My Friend)Blind Lemon, and he must have been a strong influence on Leadbelly's rural-blues repertoire.

Leadbelly returned to renewed interest in his music, buoyed by the revival of dixieland jazz, and interest in the origins of roots music forms. A book of essays titled "A Tribute to Huddie Ledbetter" had been published in England in 1946, and he found steady (but not lucrative) work playing the jazz clubs, and occasional concerts. By now he had come to keenly resent the "convict" image that he had acquired since his initial "discovery" and arrival in New York, but found it impossible to shake off. He toured briefly in France, where jazz had become hugely popular, in early 1949. While in Paris, persistent muscle problems led to a diagnosis of Lous Gehrig's disease - amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Some six months later he succumbed to the disorder, on December 6, 1949. In 1950, his trademark song "Goodnight Irene", which he had learned from his uncle Bob Ledbetter, became a nationwide number one hit for the Weavers.
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Edited from the Leadbelly Web  page.


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Robert Johnson

Robert Johnson was born on May 8, 1911 to Julia Major Dodds and Noah Johnson in Hazelhurst, Mississippi. Until his late adolescence, his name was Robert Spencer after his stepfather, who had to change his name from Dodds to Spencer when he ran from Mississipi after a personal vandetta with the Marchetti Brothers. Johnson took the name of his natural father as a teenager, even though he had not met him.
Music was a long-time interest for Johnson, and his first instruments were the Jew's harp and the harmonica. Before he became seriously involved with the guitar, he married Virginia Travis in February 1929, and the young couple soon became expectant parents. But tragedy struck when Virginia, only sixteen years old, died in childbirth in 1930.

Around June of 1930, blues musician Son House came to Mississippi. His music deeply affected Johnson, for it was the "rawest, most direct pure emotion Robert had ever heard, and he followed House and [Willie] Brown wherever they went".
But Johnson did not appear to be gifted with a musician's talent for guitar, as Son House asserts, " Such another racket you never heard! It'd make people mad, you know. They'd come out and say, "Why don't y'all go in there and get that guitar from that boy!".

Unhappy and unwilling to be caught in the sharecropper's world of backbreaking work with little reward, Johnson left the regular scene around Robinsonville, Mississippi and went to Hazelhurst, MS. There he played at the "jook joints of the road gangs and lumber camps," and found a "kind and loving woman more than ten years his senior" named Calletta "Callie" Craft. The couple was married in May 1931, but they kept the marriage a secret.

This time in Southern Mississippi was very important for Johnson, because his musical talent came to fruition. When he returned to Robunsonville, Son House and Willie Brown were astounded by his development. Rumors began about Johnson trading his soul to the devil in exchange for the guitar expertise. His career took off.

In performance, Johnson played his own songs as well as those of other bluesmen and generally popular music by performers such as Bing Crosby. When he made up his mind to record, in 1936, he approached H. C. Speirs, a white record store owner in Jackson, MS. Speirs sent him to Ernie Oertle, an ARC scout. Oertle and Johnson went to San Antonio late in November 1936, where, in 5 days, he recorded Kindhearted Woman Blues, I Believe I'll Dust My Broom, Sweet Home Chicago, Rambling On My Mind, When You Got a Good Friend, Come On In My Kitchen, Terraplane Blues, Phonograph Blues, 32-20 Blues, They're Red Hot, Dead Shrimp Blues, Cross Road Blues, Walking Blues, Last Fair Deal Gone Down, Preaching Blues (Up Jumped the Devil), and If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day. When he was done, he returned home to Mississippi.

Johnson returned to recording in June of 1937, this time in Dallas. He did two takes each of Hellhound On My Trail, Little Queen of Spades, Malted Milk, Drunken Hearted Man, Me and the Devil Blues, Stop Breakin' Down Blues, Traveling Riverside Blues, and Honeymoon Blues, and three takes of Milkcow's Calf Blues, and four takes of Love in Vain.

During the next year, Johnson traveled to such places as St. Louis, Memphis, and back home to the Delta. On Saturday night, August 13, 1938 at a jook joint named Three Forks, Johnson played his last gig. Of the many rumors concerning Johnson's death in 1938 (stabbing, poison, the devil catching up with him), poisoning is the most prevalent and most substantiated. His death certificate was found in 1968, verifying his death in Greenwood, Mississippi. He is buried at a small church in Morgan City, MS, which is near Greenwood. It was soon after Johnson's death, but before the news was wide-spread, that John Hammond began looking for Johnson to perform at Carnegie Hall in a "From Spirituals to Swing" concert.

In 1990, Columbia reissued Johnson's recordings in their Roots 'n' Blues series. Johnson was featured on a U.S. Postage stamp as part of it's 'Stamp On Black History' series. Johnson's songs have been recorded by artists as diverse as Lee Roy Parnell and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Johnson's poetry is currently being taught at the University level, in particular, Victor Cabas' "Mississippi in Story and Song" at the University of Virginia.

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Edited from The Robert Johnson Notebooks website
 


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Reverend Gary Davis
Reverend Gary Davis is the all natural original. Born ready in South Carolina in 1896, Gary personalized a very unique musical style, enabling him to play a bottomless repertoire of blues, gospel, and everything and anything in between.
Gary went partially blind as a youngster and became totally blind at the age of 30, but that didn't deter him from learning harp, banjo, and guitar. He took to the streets as a musician in the '10's and '20's, and in 1933, was decreed a minister of the Free Baptist Connection Church, in turn, rendering from blues to gospel. At least when his wife wasn't around.
Apparently receiving a sour deal in 1935 during his first recording sessions, Gary refused to record again. Though, he would eventually give in. Times got hard, no thanks to the depression, so he moved to New York with his wife in hopes of allocating work. Once again, Gary hit the streets and gave lessons to make ends meet and in the mid 1940's, managed to record twice. It wasn't long before he was "rediscovered" during the blues revival as a true, emotional artist. What made him authentic, like most blues artists, was his refusal to play the same song the same way twice. He played a 12-string Bozo guitar, and could play in any key any time.
Gary did his last singing in 1972, but his style still influences generations of musicians to this day. He personalized a style of his own. Reverend Gary Davis' is the all natural original.

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From Mudcats Reverend Gary Davis  page
 


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Blind Willie Johnson

A coarse-throated, gruff gospel singer who occasionally used the blues idiom to carry his religious messages, Blind Willie Johnson was also a superb slide guitarist. However, unlike more noted Delta slide players whose guitar styles frequently tore at a song's melody or charged it with uncontrolled passion, Johnson forged a style in which the notes he played were perfect accompaniments to the notes he sang.

Little is known of Johnson's life that can be substantiated. He was born around the turn of the century. Sometime between the ages of three and seven he was blinded, reputedly by a stepmother who threw lye into his eyes during a fight with his father. Johnson, like other blind bluesmen in the prewar period, earned his living by singing on Texas street corners. He also became a Baptist preacher. In 1927 he married and shortly thereafter relocated to Dallas, where he recorded for the Columbia label. A batch of the songs he cut ultimately became classics and served as his substantial contribution to gospel-blues. Among the songs for which Johnson is most known are "Motherless Children Have a Hard Time," "If I Had My Way," "Let Your Light Shine on Me," "You're Gonna Need Somebody on Your Bond," and "Jesus Make Up My Dying Bed."

Despite his brief career as a recording artist - he didn't record after 1930- Johnson continued to perform throughout the 1930s and 1940s He died in 1947; reportedly his house burned to the ground and, after sleeping in its remains, he caught pneumonia.

"Lord, I Just Can't Keep From Cryin'" is from Legends of the Blues - Volume 1 Copyright © Sony Music Entertainment Inc., 1991. Accompanied by own guitar, Willie originally cut this on December 5, 1928 in Dallas, Texas with Angeline Johnson.

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From:  The Blue Flame Cafe
 


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Lord Buckley

"A most immaculately hip aristocrat," Lord Buckley was the epitome of comedy
cool; a onetime vaudeville performer and a hulking ex-lumberjack, he was a
comic philosopher, a bop monologuist whose vocalese fused the rhythms and
patois of the street with the arch sophistication of the British
upper-crust to create verbal symphonies unparalleled in their intricacy
and dexterity. A comedian who didn't tell jokes and a word-jazz virtuoso
riffing madly on the English language, Buckley combined the frenetic
intensity of Beat poetry with the lessons and moral heft of Biblical tales
and historical discourse; holding court over the "hipsters, flipsters and
finger-poppin' daddies" of the postwar era, he was a true visionary, the
original rapper.

His Lordship was born Richard Myrle Buckley on April 5, 1906 in Tuolumne,
California, a mining town located in the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas.
After spending his formative years as a lumberjack, in the mid-1920s
Buckley set out to find work in the oilfields of Texas and Mexico; he
never made it, instead teaming with a traveling guitarist to form a
musical comedy act. By the 1930s he was in Chicago, emceeing in mob-owned
speakeasies; there he became a protege of Al Capone, who set up the
comedian with his own club, the Chez Buckley, where he performed backed by
a cadre of jazz musicians. Constant vice-squad pressure soon forced
Buckley out of town, however, and throughout the early 1940s he worked the
vaudeville circuit, gaining a notorious reputation for ridiculing unhip
audiences and smoking dope onstage.

 After touring with the U.S.O. during World War II, Buckley relocated to
New York City, where he acted in a Broadway production titled The Passing
Show. After marrying Elizabeth Hanson, one of the show's dancers, the
couple and their children moved to Los Angeles at the dawn of the 1950s;
after attempts to break into films proved largely unsuccessful, Buckley
began taking on the persona of "His Lordship," an aristocratic hipster
madman clad in tuxedo, pith helmet and Salvador Dali-esque waxed
moustache. He quickly emerged as an underground legend, partipicating in
LSD experiments while throwing wild parties at his rented Hollywood Hills
mansion (dubbed the Castle) where the likes of Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis,
Jr. and Tony Curtis mingled with jazz musicians, junkies and poets. At a
Topanga Canyon art gallery owned by his friend Bob DeWitt, he also founded
the first jazz religion, "The Church of the Living Swing."

In 1951 Buckley made his first recordings for the Vaya label, Euphoria
and Euphoria, Volume II. The first album contained his most legendary
routine, "The Nazz," a "hipsemantic" retelling of the life of Christ ("the
sweetest, gonest, wailinest cat that ever stomped on this sweet, swingin'
sphere"); the  latter featured a number of riffs on Aesop's Fables as well
as "Jonah and the Whale," complete with a pothead Jonah. Despite a series
of well-received appearances on The Tonight Show, The Milton Berle Show
and You Bet Your Life, Buckley did not re-enter the studio until 1955,
when he cut Hipsters, Flipsters and Finger-Poppin' Daddies, Knock Me Your
Lobes, which spotlighted his adaptations of scenes from the Shakespearean
dramas Julius Caesar, Hamlet and Macbeth.

After issuing a trio of singles in 1956 -- "Flight of the Saucer, Parts 1
and 2" (an excursion into outer space rapped over the 1946 Lyle Griffin
track "Flight of the Vout Bug"), "The Gettysburg Address" and "James Dean's
Message to Teenagers" -- as well as recording the LP A Most Immaculately
Hip Aristocrat (which went unreleased until 1970), Buckley moved to Las
Vegas, where he worked the nightclub and casino circuit. In 1959 he
returned to play Hollywood; the majority of a February 12 appearance at
the Ivar Theatre was soon issued as the album Way Out Humor, while the
remainder appeared in 1966 as Blowing His Mind (and Yours, Too). Ever the
nomad, Buckley and his family moved to San Francisco in 1960, where he
took up residency at clubs like the Hungry i and the Purple Onion; a
performance at Oakland's Gold Nugget formed the basis of the 1970 release
The Bad Rapping of the Marquis de Sade.

In the summer of 1960, Buckley set out alone in a red VW microbus to tour
the country; in August he arrived in Chicago, where he fell ill. Still, he
forged on to New York for a series of October performances at the Jazz
Gallery; during one of his shows, the city's vice squad confiscated his
cabaret card -- a document necessary to play area clubs -- on the grounds
that he lied about having a prior arrest record. On November 12, he called
the novelist Harold Humes, complaining of great anxiety triggered by the
cabaret bureau's daily refusals to reissue his card; he also said he was
hungry and broke. Within hours of hanging up the phone, Lord Buckley was
dead of a stroke brought on by "extreme hypertension;" he was 54 years
old. A few weeks later, civic pressure forced a repeal of the cabaret card
law.

While never a mainstream figure, Buckley's stature grew to mythic
proportions in the months and years following his death. Lenny Bruce was
an avowed fan, borrowing much of his attitude and rhythms from Buckley's
lead, and everyone from Jonathan Winters to Robin Williams acknowledged
His Lordship's influence. Bob Dylan was also enamored of his work, and at
the outset of his career frequently covered Buckley's rendition of the
poet Joseph Newman's "Black Cross." Jimmy Buffett performed the Buckley
original "God's Own Drunk," and George Harrison's hit "Crackerbox Palace"
 drew inspiration from the comedian's life and its title from the name
given his tiny Hollywood home. Still the subject of a fanatical cult
following and a true underground hero, even decades after exiting "this
sweet, swingin' sphere" the self-styled Messiah of Hip lives on.
-- Jason Ankeny

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© 2001 Craig Pinkerton - Site by eve, Incorporated