Al Green//Tired of Being Alone

I'm back, again, from California. I arrived yesterday on the red eye and was met immediately with cold grey sleet. Welcome home. No coincidence that my friend who works at the neighborhood coffee shop asked me, "are you gonna make it?" when I went in to order my afternoon cuppa.

I thought I'd let America's own soul reverend express this feeling for me, as only he can.

I've had many a sweet memory to which "The Rev." has provided the soundtrack--washing dishes at the co.op where many friends lived in Ann Arbor, slow dances at late night dance parties, silly evenings at home with my family, roadtrips, the list goes on...

Green got his start as part of the Arkansas/Grand Rapids, Michigan-based Gospel quartet, The Green Brothers. In a sort of bizzare twist, his own father kicked him out of the group when he was caught listening to Jackie Wilson. From there, he formed a group called Al Green & the Creations, which eventually lead him to R+B/Soul stardom. That said, his early Gospel roots never disappeared, and after a strange domestic violence incident in the mid-70s, he returned to the church and became ordained. He has gone back and forth a few times regarding his musical style, sometimes singing Gospel, other times R+B/Soul. Regardless, it's good.

This song, released in 1971, came in at #293 on Rolling Stone's list of The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. I do tend to believe that Rolling Stone is generally irrelevant to what's going on in the music world at this time, but, I do have to acknowledge that this list is pretty awesome. Although I wasn't aware of it when I started OSS, I agree with a number of their selections which have been independently featured here.



I'm So Tired of Being Alone.mp3

I'm so tired of being alone.
I'm so tired of on-my-own.
Won't you help me, girl,
Just as soon as you can?

Louis Jordan//Caldonia

I'm sitting in my backyard with Emily Bate, trying to figure out today's song. I realized that besides Mr. Kevin Dunn, we're having kind of an old-timey week. So, hey, let's run with that.

I heard this song for the first time at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, where Louis Jordan was described, in one of the intro videos as “the Father of Rhythm & Blues” and “the Grandfather of Rock ‘n’ Roll." Ryan and I really liked this song and for some reason I am only now, about 4 years later, finally looking up Mr. Jordan.

Apparently he was known as "The King of the Jukebox," for his popularity with both black and white audiences during the late swing years to the early rock and roll years. Bate informs me that he has also recorded a song about beans and cornbread having a fight. "In the end he lists a whole bunch of reasons that they should have unity, mostly involving delicious combinations of foods." Compelling.

This guy was fucking hilarious. For example:

"I'm Gonna Leave You on the Outskirts of Town" was an "answer record" to Jordan's earlier "I'm Gonna Move to the Outskirts of Town", but it became Jordan's first major chart hit, reaching #2 on Billboard's Harlem Hit Parade. His next side, "What's the Use of Getting Sober" (When You're Gonna Get Drunk Again)", became Jordan's first #1 hit, reaching the top of the Harlem Hit Parade in December 1942. A subsequent side, "The Chicks I Pick Are Slender, Tender and Fine", reached #10 in January 1943. Their next major side, the comical call-and response number "Five Guys Named Moe", was one of the first recordings to solidify the fast-paced, swinging R&B style that became the Jordan trademark and it struck a chord with audiences, reaching #3 on the race charts in September 1943. The song was later taken as the title of a long-running stage show that paid tribute to Jordan and his music. The more conventional "That'll Just About Knock Me Out" also fared well, reaching #8 on the race charts and giving Jordan his fifth hit from the December 1942 sessions.

Slender, Tender and Fine. I'm Gonna Move to the Outskirts of Town, then, I'm Gonna Leave You on the Outskirts of Town. You Run Your Mouth and I'll Run My Business. I shit you not.



Caldonia.mp3

Caldonia, what makes your big head so hard?

Johnny Cash//Cocaine Blues, Folsom Prison Blues

I had a fantastic Thanksgiving. It included an amazing meal shared with amazing people, a lovely walk, foosball competition, saxophone performance and some kickass country songs. Round two was filled with whiskey, pie and a hilarious charades-style game called Celebrity. How was yours?

I have so much to be thankful for in my life! It's overwhelming! Since we're giving thanks, I want to give you a double dose of songs to be thankful for, by a man we should all be thankful for, Johnny Cash.

Mr. Cash passed away in 2003. If you want the full (overdramatic/exaggerated) history, go ahead and watch Walk the Line. What's worth knowing: he was a country legend who made incredible music, was an active advocate around a number of political issues and crossed paths with plenty of other country legends ( and their kids).

These songs were performed by Cash, who felt a lot of compassion for prisoners, live in Folsom Prison in '68 (he played San Quentin in '69). What's amazing: the first song tells about how a man (Willy Lee, or Bad Lee Brown in a much earlier version) gets himself into Folsom. The second is about a man's experience in Folsom, after killing a man (in Reno). You can almost imagine that these two men stuck in Folsom together, trading stories of their respective fates.

Last night, Karen's dad, Dr. Bob, played rousing renditions of both these songs for us. Karen also told us that when her mom wasn't around, and Dr. Bob was charged with putting her to bed, he used to play her "Cocaine Blues" to get her to sleep. Now, that's what I call awesome parenting.



Cocaine Blues.mp3

Folsom Prison Blues.mp3

I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my woman down.
I went right home and I went to bed.
I stuck that lovin' '44 beneath my head.