Cover Lay Down

Naturalismo, which I discovered when researching last week’s post on Freak Folk, seems to be one of very few music bloggers to note the passing of Alton Kelley — the sixties poster artist whose most popular work was probably the above skeleton-with-rose-garland poster, originally created for a 1966 Grateful Dead show at the Avalon Ballroom. You may not have seen the poster before, but you’ve seen the graphic it inspired on a hundred Volkswagen bumpers; the image, which Kelley and his long-time partner Stanley Mouse adapted from a nineteenth century illustration for The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, was the source from which the Grateful Dead took their early, longstanding, most recognizable iconography.

The relative dearth of recognition in the blogworld at Kelley’s passing, coupled with the evolutionary story of the iconography of the skeleton in that poster, got me thinking about the similarly under-covered relationship between the Dead themselves and the folk tradition. I’m particularly interested in the way the Dead, like Kelley and Mouse’s skeleton itself, served as a bridge between the images and objects of the past and the ongoing recognition of those objects in the present. If the skeleton reframed the imagery, the Dead reframed the tradition. And that’s pretty folk, right there, folks.

I’m not claiming that the Grateful Dead are folk music, necessarily, though their credibility in the folkworld is pretty strong. The combination of their use of traditional appalachian folksong as source material and their pre-history as jug band artists align them closely with the bluegrass that preceded them, and the newgrass movements which would follow. And their tendency towards acoustic sideprojects, their use of acoustic instrumentation and folk instruments, their connection with the same hippie movement which brought forth and nurtured the second wave of the new folk revival post-Guthrie and Dylan, and their not-so-occasional stripped down performance makes a strong case for their inclusion in the folk canon.

Jerry Garcia’s solo work and influence, especially, are a major component of this; by most accounts, though others in the band co-wrote their share of originals, it was Garcia who learned the majority of these traditional ballads and jams, on train rides and on back porch sessions, and brought them in for the band to arrange. And while his bandmates went on to play music across the genre map, both on hiatus and in the more recent aftermath of his death — it’s hard to argue that the solo output of, say, Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart, or Bruce Hornsby count as folk in any shape or form — it was Garcia who would become almost as well know for his more delicate acoustic mandolin and guitar work with compatriots such as David Grisman.

One day, it is my intention to give that Garcia and Grisman folkwork the full attention it deserves. And previously, I’ve posted several sets of songs more properly characterized as bluegrass which follow the Grateful Dead take on tradition: two wonderful newgrass takes on Deep Elem Blues; a Single Song Sunday collection of covers of Rain and Snow; a great high-energy version of Grateful Dead “standard” Don’t Ease Me In. But it’s never to late to do more, especially in tribute. Today, a few traditional songs played by others from the less countrified side of the folkworld, post-popularization by the Grateful Dead, and in most cases, surely influenced by same.

• Bill Morrissey w/ Greg Brown, Hang Me, Oh Hang Me
  (from Inside; done by the Grateful Dead as “I’ve Been All Around This World”)

• Greg Brown, Samson
  (from Honey in the Lion’s Head, which is out of print but can be purchased digitally here; done by the Grateful Dead as “Samson and Delilah”)
• Elizabeth Mitchell, Goin’ Down The Road
  (from You Are My Sunshine; done by the Grateful Dead as “Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad”)
• Abigail Washburn, Nobody’s Fault But Mine
  (from Song of the Traveling Daughter; done intermittently by both the Dead and Garcia solo)
• Bill Staines, I Bid You Goodnight
• Zak Smith, We Bid You Goodnight
  (from Bill Staines’ Bridges and the website of newcomer Zak Smith, respectively; done a capella by the Grateful Dead as an encore/show closer for many years)

I considered adding a few more traditional songs of and from the Grateful Dead playbook here as a bonus, but it’s Friday, and we only do short posts here at Cover Lay Down on “off” days. Luckily, several recent and especially relevant posts on other (better) blogs are still live and worth the visit. So quick, before they’re gone:

• Anyone’s Guess has versions of Rosa Lee McFall from Garcia/Grisman and the Dead

• The Leather Canary has the abovementioned I’ve Been All Around the World as done by both The Grateful Dead and by new countryrockers The Deep Dark Woods
• For The Sake of the Song says Bob Dylan probably learned Viola Lee Blues from the Dead, and he’s probably right.

PS: Much credit goes to the Grateful Dead Lyric and Song Finder as a general resource for today’s post. As the plethora of links here and elsewhere remind us, the folkworld would be a much poorer place were it not for the obsessive pursuits of others.

I figured it would be fitting to end our contest week with a theme that would help us transition back from the countrified edge of folk. Thus: folk singers covering cowboy songs. Enjoy!

Continuing our discussion from earlier this week: back when the world was acoustic, a guitar and a voice could travel a long way, from back porch to prairie campfire, and be different only by context, and the tone it lends. Since then, of course, our sense of genre has been radically transformed and fully, irreversably exploded into chaos. But once upon a time, folk and country and back porch blues weren’t so different, after all.

The irony, then: while modern country music claims the concept of cowboy, today, reducing old cowboy standards back to their essentials is considered folk, where it would have once been just plain song. Crossover songs like these are like a return to the roots of the branching tree that is american music, back when the world seemed all wide open spaces and endless horizon; singing them is like longing for a time when we were a nation of strong, silent types.

Today, then, some cowboy songs in the key of folk: a few true traditionals about the range and the prairie, and a song or two which merely references the once-familiar image. A few are technically country music, but their countrified folk interpetations are old and familiar enough to transcend genre. Most aren’t really about cowboys. They’re about the idea of cowboys, one of our last remaining clear-cut cultural metaphors.

• Bill Staines, Home on the Range (trad.)
• Maria Muldaur, Prairie Lullaby (orig. Billy Hill)
  A pair of quiet western songs from old-timey folk and gospel collection American Lullaby, effectively interpreted by two northeasterners: true New England backcountry folksman Bill Staines and ex-Greenwich Village folk staple Maria Muldaur.

• Riders in the Sky, Take Me Back to My Boots and Saddle (orig. Gene Autry)
• Riders in the Sky, You’ve Got A Friend in Me (orig. Randy Newman)
  Cowboy and western band Riders in the Sky have appeared at the Grand Ole Opry over 700 times. They also do a great cover of You’ve Got A Friend in Me, from Toy Story. Hey, Woody is a cowboy, too.

• Ry Cooder, Billy The Kid (trad.)
  Billy was technically an outlaw, not a cowboy. But the setting matches, and Ry Cooder gives this traditional song such a wonderfully sparse, jangly, bluesy feel with nothing but mandolin and electrified slide, I couldn’t hold back.

• Lucy Kaplansky, Cowboy Singer (orig. Dave Carter)
  I requested this song at a recent Lucy Kaplansky show; Lucy seemed pleased. It came off dark and thoughtful and sweet all at once, as always. From her penultimate release The Red Thread.

• Kelly Willis, Don’t Come The Cowboy With Me, Sonny Jim (orig. Kirsty MacColl)
  One last mellow country song before I go: Kelly Willis does a great version of this old Kirsty MacColl waltz on Easy, all sweet voice and transcendent harmony. You’d never know it was country if you couldn’t hear the woodblock downbeat.

• Suzanne Vega/Bill Frisell/Wayne Horvitz/Syd Straw, Medley Two: Stay Awake/Little Wooden Head/Blue Shadows On The Trail (orig. Disney)
  The annoying thing about 80s-era Disney cover album Stay Awake is the way the songs are impossible to separate from each other. The lovely thing about this medley is that all the pieces work. I posted it for Syd Straw‘s cowboy song; we’ll consider the Suzanne Vega and Bill Frisell Disney covers a bonus.

As always, artist and album links above lead to artists’ preferred source for purchase wherever possible. Buy what you like; like yourself better for buying local and direct.

I’ve been a teacher for almost fifteen years, and a Daddy for five; I’m lucky to be able to live in a world where I can be with kids, and play. But other than a short period of time where my daughter’s favorite song was Andrew W.K.’s thrashpunk anthem She Is Beautiful, this means there’s a constant struggle in my house between what I like to call “that same damn circus record” and what the kids dismissively refer to as “Daddy’s music”.

But listen up, Dads (and Moms): when the kids demand more appropriate age-specific earcandy, we don’t really have to lose. In a world where an entire generation is trying to keep their cool in the face of diapers and snailspace trick or treating, you don’t have to listen to that pap that passed for kids music in the disco era. Or Barney songs. Or that awful, too-chipper CD of baby-fied classics your mother picked up at her local all-natural toy store (sorry, mom). There’s a brand new crop of kidsingers out there — a holy host, from Dan Zanes to a thousand younger artists — and they’re not afraid to get ‘em while they’re young.

For the indie and rock crowds, I suppose, this demand for “real” kidmusic does seem to have opened up a new niche market. But folk music has long carried the torch for the authentic in kidsong. My 1970s childhood was filled with acoustic guitar and rough-tinged voices on already-old records from Guthrie and Leadbelly, and newer acts from Peter, Paul, and Mary to Bill Staines. When folk music came back for the Fast Folk second wave, it brought along its sense of childlike wonder; the demand bought Grisman and Garcia and Taj Mahal a second round of folkfame, and made way for new acts, like the jamgrass-for-kids Trout Fishing in America.

Since then, as the new generation grows through its indie stages, our favorite streetwise musicians grow up and have kids of their own — and out come the guitars and the quiet, simple voices, calling up half-remembered favorites from a time when everything was simple and pure. Suddenly, everyone’s a folk singer.

Like ice cream comes in vanilla and chocolate, kids songs come in two primary flavors, the quiet and the silly — but there are infinite variations from creamy to nutty. Next week, maybe, we’ll get a case of the sillies, and need to shake it all out. Today, three generations of folksingers — oldtimers Bill Staines and Garcia/Grisman, fastfolker Shawn Colvin and bluegrass staple Alison Krauss, and a host of newer artists from the wide margins of modern folk — bring us a set of lullabies and resting songs for a quiet Sunday afternoon.

• The Be Good Tanyas, Oh Susanna (orig. Foster)
  Get Blue Horse. Because if americana rocks, and all the great indiefolk bands come from Canada, then Canadian americana has a coolness quotient of eleven point five.

• Jack Johnson, We Are Going To Be Friends (orig. White)
  It takes a special kind of genius to make the White Stripes accessible to kids. Johnson’s stellar acoustic interpretation of this tune is one of many golden moments on Sing-A-Longs and Lullabies for the Film Curious George.
• Elizabeth Mitchell and Daniel Littleton, You Are My Sunshine (orig. Davis)
  My favorite rendition of a favorite kidsong. Get Sing Along With Putamayo (or any of Mitchell and Littleton’s You Are My… series) for this and many other wonderful not-just-for-kids interpretations of classic kidsongs. Put in CD player. Sing along. Repeat at bedtime.
• Robert Skoro, Michael Row Your Boat Ashore (trad.)
  Skoro is an up-and-coming indieboy who has been compared favorably to the Shins; this mellow cut is from Down By The Riverside: An Album Benefiting Reuben Lindh Family Services. How come Minneapolis gets all the cool acts?
• Alison Krauss, Baby Mine (orig. Mrs. Jumbo)
  A little looser, a little deeper south: if the original was middle America, this one’s a train through a sleepy Georgia town, two in the morning and too hot to sleep. Off of A Hundred Years or More: A Collection.
• Jerry Garcia and David Grisman, A Shenandoah Lullaby (trad./Brahams)
  Mandolins and bedtime stars and a rough-voiced Garcia at the waning peak of his power segue into a slow, sleepy instrumental Brahams Lullaby with strings. Goodnight, sweetheart. Get Not For Kids Only.
• Rex Hobart, It’s Not Easy Being Green (orig. Kermit)
  All the cool dads are listening to recent Bloodshot Records indie-fave The Bottle Let Me Down: Songs for Bumpy Wagon Rides.
• Raine Maida and Chantal Kreviazuk, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (trad./Taylor)
  A wash of sound and a ticking backbeat from alt-star Maida and folkrocker Kreviazuk make this almost-pop cover sing. From the exquisite and highly recommended benefit series For The Kids; the just-released Vol. 3 includes kidsongs by Rosie Thomas/Damien Jurado, Mates of State, Of Montreal, Great Lake Swimmers, and other indie darlings.
• Shawn Colvin, Seal Lullaby (orig. Wilder/Kipling)
  Kipling’s gentle nightpoem plays exceptionally well as a piano ballad. Colvin’s Holiday Songs and Lullabies is sweet and subtle in December…and all year ’round.
• Bill Staines, Home on the Range (orig. Higley/Kelly)
  Oft-covered New England folk icon and 1975 National Yodeling Champion Bill Staines plays us a fireside classic. From American Lullaby: Folk, Country, Gospel and Old-Timey Bedtime Songs, which includes great covers and great originals from a cast of legends and Grammy winners.

Click on artist/album names to buy some incredible music for the young and the young at heart. And remember, kids: buying music from the artist’s preferred source gives you peace of mind so you can sleep like a baby.