Ada Jones & M.J. O’Connell - Some Sunday Morning (1917)
…Some Sunday morning when those wedding bells chime
In 1893 or 1894 Ada Jones made her first documented recordings, for the North American Phonograph Co. At least two of them — “Sweet Marie” and “The Volunteer Organist” — survive in private collections. They are among the earliest recordings of a female vocal soloist to be issued.
She returned to the phonograph in 1905, making a series of early records and becoming one of the most popular singers in the period prior to World War One.
Here’s a photo of Ada on the morse code in about 1919, taken at her home in Long Island by George Bain.
Leave me something. Leave me something to live. Oh, God, give me something: a reason to live. I don’t want no handout; no, not sympathy. Come on. Come and love me. Come on. Set me free.
This great set, which was broadcast on WNEW-FM, is available briefly via the BigO. A pretty decent slice of the band’s live experience back in their prime, including poetry and chat in amongst the brilliant songs. Go here http://bigozine2.com/roio/?p=1150
Woody Guthrie - I ain’t got no home in this world anymore
Today is the 100th Anniversary of the birth of Woody Guthrie. One little man who influenced and inspired a lot of people. He wrote about 3000 songs, and this one still seems as relevant today as it did back then…
I Ain’t Got No Home
Words and Music by Woody Guthrie
I ain’t got no home, I’m just a-roamin’ ‘round, Just a wandrin’ worker, I go from town to town. And the police make it hard wherever I may go And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.
My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road, A hot and dusty road that a million feet have trod; Rich man took my home and drove me from my door And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.
Was a-farmin’ on the shares, and always I was poor; My crops I lay into the banker’s store. My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor, And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.
I mined in your mines and I gathered in your corn I been working, mister, since the day I was born. Now I worry all the time like I never did before ’Cause I ain’t got no home in this world anymore
Now as I look around, it’s mighty plain to see This world is such a great and a funny place to be; Oh, the gamblin’ man is rich an’ the workin’ man is poor, And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.
from this rare 1972 private pressing bluegrass album. It’s great. Have a listen, then click on the cover and listen some more.
Apparently recorded by the country artist Dr Elmowith his wife Patsy and assorted musicians, but I’m not sure. He was a vet who recorded comedy Christmas songs (Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer?). But I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s great.
So 1978 was the best year and you go and pick Blondie’s Parallel Lines to represent it? Really? (see here) C’mon Norman - there’s All Mod Cons, Another Music in a Different Kitchen, More songs about buildings and food, The Modern Dance, even Dire Straits. There’s surely more.
I listened to Parallel Lines recently for the first time in 30 years - awful. Well, it has 3 great songs. Hanging on the Telephone, Picture This, Fade away. That’s it. Maybe that’s not so bad, I mean Picture This is a great song. But it has a lot of rubbish too.
To be honest, 1978 seemed about the worst year for music to me - I was too young for punk and the likes of Joy Division and The Fall and Postcard Records and all the good stuff were yet to come. Kate Bush’s The Kick Inside. That’d be my choice, maybe. Or Public Image Limited, although I hated that at the time. The Kick Inside it is then.
But 1978 was generally a really bad year for music.
But this is a lovely photo by Mike Burnell, a celebration of a great little record shop that’s closing after 46 years. (via Brighton Source magazine)
A Brighton institution it is, was. The same age as me. Ten years into rock’n’roll. I guess Revolver and Blonde-on-Blonde came out the year Rounder opened. It’s hard to imagine it/I was only 12 years old when the Kick Inside came out. Twelve more years and it’s 1990 and I was listening to Public Enemy, Pills n Thrills and Bellyaches, Nick Cave’s The Good Son, Sonic Youth’s Goo. The Smiths had come and gone already. Weird how nothing much happens for years once you’re fully grown.
Steve from Rounder Records Brighton is playing some vinyl at The Prince Albert Pub tonight. If I was in town I’d go, it’ll be a lovely little night I’m sure.
Came across this obscure early 70s singer-songwriter LP in a charity shop a few weeks ago, and thought I’d take a chance on it. It’s a mixed bag musically, but Bonnie has a fine soulful voice and the record does contain a few fine songs - including this one, a lost treasure from the 60s civil rights song movement.
"The blacker the berry the sweeter the juice,
but the berries grew bitter from too much abuse…”
The album seems obscure in the extreme and I could find no reference to any further musical endeavors by Ms White. Not sure what became of here but I’d love to know.
I’ve been listening to this lovely album a lot this week. Playful, inventive and quite brilliant.
“Some people take a trip to India, Tibet, hitchhike through Europe. This was my trip to Tibet, only it was Scotland. The album is certainly in tune with the freedom that a lot of people want these days in our strange world where bankers can rip the economy apart. It’s nice to have a little bit of art to fall back on.”
I think I was too influenced by John Lennon’s cynicism before, too influenced by the critics and Band on the Run’s popularity, maybe listened too young. But as with Dylan’s much-maligned Self Portrait, there’s a masterful musical mind at work here.
It’s also the sound of the end of the Sixties, or rather the Sixties never having existed. Rock, revolution, all gone from this record. But it’s not whimsy. Listen to Uncle Albert or Smile Away or Back seat of my car or Ram On…
You can read Pitchfork’s re-assessment by Jayson Greene here - a 9/10 review - and a short interview with McCartney on the making of Ram here (from where the above quote is taken)
Johny Lamb aka Thirty Pounds of Bone’s pen-ultimate installment of The Ship’s Log sonically set sail yesterday. It’s called, ‘A Perilous 400 Yards’ and it’s reliably really rather brilliant, even if we do say so ourselves.
“This is the song that documents Collective Spirit’s journey…