The Greatest Folk Singers (And Singer Songwriters) of All Time!! (At least the ones I like!)

Posted on by Opher

I suppose I got into Folk Music in two ways. I was introduced to it through the country Blues and I was simultaneously saturated with first Dylan and Donovan and then the sixties contemporary Folk scene.

I liked guitar playing and good lyrics. It brought both together.

This is a list of my favourites:

Woody Guthrie

Pete Seeger

Bob Dylan

Phil Ochs

Anne Briggs

Richard and Mimi Farina

Bert Jansch

Paul Simon

John Renbourn

Pentangle

Roy Harper

Jackson C Frank

Nick Drake

Al Stewart

Ralph McTell

Davy Graham

Stephan Grossman

John Fahey

Norma Waterson & Martin Carthy

John Martyn

Joni Mitchell

Buffy St Marie

Joan Baez

Leonard Cohen

Richard Thompson

Donovan

Peter La Farge

Huddie Ledbetter

Big Bill Broonzy

Tom Paxton

Townes Van Zandt

Arlo Guthrie

Sandy Denny

Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee

Palaces of Gold – Leon Rosselson

Posted on by Opher

This was the second from one of Britain’s great songwriters.

If the ministers in this Tory cabinet had to live in the destitution that they create we’d have a different country. Maybe they’d stop funneling all the wealth to the fat-cats at the top and give ordinary people a fair shake!

Palaces of Gold – Leon Rosselson

If the sons of company directors
And the judges’ private daughters
Had to got to school in a slum school
Dumped by some joker in a damp back alley
Had to herd into classrooms cramped with worry
With a view onto slag heaps and stagnant pools
Had to file through corridors grey with age
And play in a crack-pot concrete cage

Buttons would be pressed
Rules would be broken
Strings would be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers would mould
Palaces of gold

If prime ministers and advertising executives
Royal personages and bank managers’ wives
Had to live out their lives in dark rooms
Blinded by smoke and the foul air of sewers
Rot on the walls and rats in the cellars
In rows of dumb houses like mouldering tombs
Had to bring up their children and watch them grow
In a wasteland of dead streets where nothing will grow

Buttons would be pressed
Rules would be broken
Strings would be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers would mould
Palaces of gold

I’m not suggesting any sort of plot
Everyone knows, there’s not
But you unborn millions might like to be warned
That if you don’t want to be buried alive by slagheaps
Pitfalls and damp walls and rat traps and dead streets
Arrange to be democratically born
The son of a company director
Or a judge’s private daughter

Buttons will be pressed
Rules will be broken
Strings will be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers will mould
Palaces of gold

Phil Ochs – Changes

Posted on by Opher

Change – the universal law. Nothing ever stays the same.

What a beautiful song to capture the essence of that universal truth.

“Changes” By Phil Ochs

Sit by my side, come as close as the air
Share in a memory of gray!
Wander in my words, dream about the pictures
That I play of changes!

Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall
To brown and to yellow they fade!
And then they have to die, trapped within
The circle time parade of changes!

Scenes of my young years were warm in my mind
Visions of shadows that shine!
Till one day I returned and found they were the
Victims of the vines of changes!

The world’s spinning madly, it drifts in the dark
Swings through a hollow of haze
A race around the stars, a journey through
The universe ablaze with changes!

Moments of magic will glow in the night
All fears of the forest are gone
But when the morning breaks they’re swept away by
Golden drops of dawn, of changes!

Passions will part to a strange melody
As fires will sometimes burn cold!
Like petals in the wind, we’re puppets to the silver
Strings of souls, of changes!

Your tears will be trembling, now we’re somewhere else
One last cup of wine we will pour
And I’ll kiss you one more time, and leave you on
The rolling river shores of changes!

Sit by my side, come as close as the air
Share in a memory of gray!
Wander in my words, dream about the pictures
That I play of changes!

Phil Ochs – I’m Gonna Say It Now

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How many people stand up to be heard? Where are the people protesting about the mess we are making of this planet?

Phil Ochs was somebody who did stand up and speak his mind.

We don’t how long we have left on this jewel of a planet but I will do everything I can to keep it full of wonder. I will do what I can to make a stand for freedom, justice and equality

I’m gonna say it now too!

“I’m Going To Say It Now”

Oh I am just a student, sir, and only want to learn
But it’s hard to read through the risin’ smoke of the books that you like to burn
So I’d like to make a promise and I’d like to make a vow
That when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

Oh I am just a student, sir, and only want to learn
But it’s hard to read through the risin’ smoke of the books that you like to burn
So I’d like to make a promise and I’d like to make a vow
That when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

Oh I am just a student, sir, and only want to learn
But it’s hard to read through the risin’ smoke from the books that you like to burn
So I’d like to make a promise and I’d like to make a vow
That when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

Oh you’ve given me a number and you’ve taken off my name
To get around this campus why you almost need a plane
And you’re supporting Chang Kai-Shek, while I’m supporting Mao
So when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

I wish that you’d make up your mind, I wish that you’d decide
That I should live as freely as those who live outside
‘Cause we also are entitled to the rights to be endowed
And when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

Ooh, you’d like to be my father you’d like to be my Dad
And give me kisses when I’m good and spank me when I’m bad
But since I’ve left my parents I’ve forgotten how to bow
So when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

And things they might be different if I was here alone
But I’ve got a friend or two who no longer live at home
And we’ll respect our elders just as long as they allow
That when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

I’ve read of other countries where the students take a stand
Maybe even help to overthrow the leaders of the land
Now I wouldn’t go so far to say we’re also learnin’ how
But when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

So keep right on a-talkin’ and tell us what to do
If nobody listens my apologies to you
And I know that you were younger once ’cause you sure are older now
And when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

Oh I am just a student sir, and only want to learn
But it’s hard to read through the risin’ smoke from the books
That you like to burn
So I’d like to make a promise and I’d like to make a vow
That when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

So I am just a trucker, sir, and I only want to learn
But it’s hard to read through the risin’ smoke
From the fuel that you like to burn
So I’d like to make a promise and I’d like to make a vow
That when I’ve got something to say, sir, I’m gonna say it now

Phil Ochs – Power & Glory

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This is the ultimate in patriotic songs. Do you love your country as it is? Is that patriotic? To love it right or wrong?

Or do you want to change it to become something better?

Phil was saying that a country is only as good as the freedom it gives people, how it treats the poor and its system of justice.

I would add to that the way it treats nature.

We in the West have tremendous power. Are we using it to create a fair just world?

I think not.

We are using our power to control people, to wage war, to exploit people. We are creating an unjust society in which the wealthy elite have all the power, control elections with their funding, control government with their lobbying and exploit everybody else for profit. A land where justice is metered out to the poor but doesn’t apply to the rich, where taxation is accounted to the last penny for the poor but is evaded by the rich. A land which is being systematically destroyed for profit as open cast mines, deforestation and sea-bed trawling destroys habitats and wipes out wildlife.

We live in a land that is exercising its power but has no glory.

So what is the strength of freedom?

It’s glory does rest with us all. We have the power to democratically vote in people who are honest and will represent us and not that powerful elite. I do not think that can be found in the lies of a self-serving billionaire or of a party that represents business executives no matter how glib they may sound.

I want to live in a country that has glory because it does the right things and has moral integrity. We are far from achieving that. There is no glory to be seen. This is a country that sells itself to the highest bidder. We are the whores of the world.

Power and Glory – Phil Ochs

Come and take a walk with me through this green and growing land
Walk through the meadows and the mountains and the sand
Walk through the valleys and the rivers and the plains
Walk through the sun and walk through the rain

Here is a land full of power and glory
Beauty that words cannot recall
Oh her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom
Her glory shall rest on us all, on us all

From Colorado, Kansas, and the Carolinas too
Virginia and Alaska, from the old to the new
Texas and Ohio and the California shore
Tell me, who could ask for more?

Yet she’s only as rich as the poorest of her poor
Only as free as the padlocked prison door
Only as strong as our love for this land
Only as tall as we stand

Here is a land full of power and glory
Beauty that words cannot recall
Oh her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom
Her glory shall rest on us all, on us all

 

Another Country – Phil Ochs

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It couldn’t happen here could it? But who could have foreseen what could happen. How much division and hate is there now?

It is happening here. I think it is the time to stand up for what we hold dear.

Another Country – Phil Ochs

Oh, a rifle took its aim and a man fell to the ground.
He tried to stand again but everybody held him down:
A time of terror when the bullet pierced the air —
I know that couldn’t happen here.
Oh, it must have been another country —
Yes, it must have been another land.
That couldn’t happen in the USA
We’d never treat a man that way.

And a migrant worker sweats underneath the blazin’ sun.
He’s fallen on his knees but his work is never done.
He begs someone to listen but nobody seems to care,
And I know that couldn’t happen here.
Oh, it must have been another country —
Yes, it must have been another land.
That couldn’t happen in the USA
We’d never treat a man that way.

And a man is working steady, it’s good money he receives
But he’s thrown out of work for the wrong things he believes.
He didn’t have the thoughts most everybody shares.
I know that couldn’t happen here,
So it must have been another country —
Yes, it must have been another land.
That couldn’t happen in the USA
We’d never treat a man that way.

And a man is sent to prison to wait until he dies.
He fights to save his life, for years and years he tries.
Even though he changed himself he dies upon the chair.
I know that couldn’t happen here.
Oh, it must have been another country —
Yes, it must have been another land.
That couldn’t happen in the USA
We’d never treat a man that way.
Oh, I know we’d never treat a man that way

Phil Ochs – Cops of the World

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Well I’m in favour of the UN providing a sane approach to world government, with a remit to protect human rights, reel in the horrors of global capitalism, stop wars and end poverty, but I reckon the US approach to being the Cops of the World demonstrates clearly how not to do it.

Phil Ochs paints it so eloquently with just a touch of humour.

“Cops Of The World”

Come, get out of the way, boys
Quick, get out of the way
You’d better watch what you say, boys
Better watch what you say
We’ve rammed in your harbor and tied to your port
And our pistols are hungry and our tempers are short
So bring your daughters around to the port
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

We pick and choose as please, boys
Pick and choose as please
You’d best get down on your knees, boys
Best get down on your knees
We’re hairy and horny and ready to shack
We don’t care if you’re yellow or black
Just take off your clothes and lie down on your back
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

Our boots are needing a shine, boys
Boots are needing a shine
But our coca-cola is fine, boys
Coca-cola is fine
We’ve got to protect all our citizens fair
So we’ll send a battalion for everyone there
And maybe we’ll leave in a couple of years
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

Dump the reds in a pile, boys
Dump the reds in a pile
You’d better wipe of that smile, boys
Better wipe off that smile
We’ll spit through the streets of the cities we wreck
We’ll find you a leader that you can’t elect
Those treaties we sighned were a pain in the neck
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

Clean the johns with a rag, boys
Clean the johns with a rag
If you like you can use your flag, boys
If you like you can use your flag
We’ve got too much money we’re looking for toys
And guns will be guns and boys will be boys
But we’ll gladly pay for all we destroy
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

Please stay off of the grass, boys
Please stay off of the grass
Here’s a kick in the ass, boys
Here’s a kick in the ass
We’ll smash down your doors, we don’t bother to knock
We’ve done it before, so why all the shock?
We’re the biggest and toughest kids on the block
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

When we butchered your son, boys
When we butchered your son
Have a stick of our gum, boys
Have a stick of our buble-gum
We own half the world, oh say can you see
The name for our profits is democracy
So, like it or not, you will have to be free
‘Cause we’re the cops of the world, boys
We’re the cops of the world

Here’s To The State of Richard Nixon (Trump) – Phil Ochs

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Phil rewrote his song – Here’s To The State of Mississippi (a song about the racist segregation of the South and its murder of the three civil rights workers) – and applied it to the immoral regime of Richard Nixon.

I suggest that you substitute Nixon for Trump. The ravings of a clown!

Here’s To The State of Richard Nixon

Here’s to the state of Richard Nixon
Where underneath his borders
The Devil draws no lines
If you drag his muddy rivers
Nameless bodies you will find
And the fat trees of the forest
Have hid a thousand crimes
And the calendar is lying
When it reads the present time

(Chorus)
Oh here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of
Richard Nixon: find yourself another country to be part of

And here’s to the schools of Richard Nixon
Where they’re teaching all the children
That they don’t have to care
All the rudiments of hatred
Are present everywhere
And every single classroom
Is a factory of despair
There’s nobody learning
Such a foreign word as “fair.”

(Chorus)
And here’s to the laws of Richard Nixon
Where the wars are fought in secret
Pearl Harbor every day
He punishes with income tax
That he don’t have to pay
And he’s tapping his own brother
Just to hear what he would say
But corruption can be classic
In the Richard Nixon way

And here’s to the churches of Richard Nixon (and Billy Graham)
Where the cross once made of silver
Now is caked with rust
And the Sunday morning sermons
Pander to their lust
And the fallen face of Jesus
Is choking in the dust
And Heaven only knows
In which God they can trust

(Chorus)
And here’s to the government of Richard Nixon
In the swamp of their bureaucracy
They’re always bogging down
And criminals are posing
As advisors to the crown
And they hope that no one sees the sights
And no one hears the sounds
And the speeches of the president
Are the ravings of a clown

Al Stewart, Folk and Rock in Hull!

Posted on by Opher

The first time I heard Al Stewart was when I bought Jackson C Frank’s wonderful groundbreaking album simply call Jackson C Frank, in 1965. What a wonderful album that was. It was at the forefront of the British contemporary Folk Scene along with the likes of Bert Jansch, John Renbourn, Donovan and Roy Harper. It was produced by Paul Simon long before he was well-know and featured a young Al Stewart on second guitar on a couple of tracks.

I went on to frequent Bunjies and Les Cousins, as part of my merry experiences of the sixties, and came across Al Stewart many times and greatly enjoyed him too.

My main focus was the fiery Roy Harper with his incredible power and lyrics of social criticism.

Al was a force back in those heady days. At one point I remember Melody Maker pitting him against Roy in one of their silly campaigns. They loved battles between artists – Stones and Beatles being the prime one. I could not see the point. I liked them both. Sometimes I preferred one and sometimes the other.

While Al never met the heights of Roy’s barbed epics, he did produce some great songs and was great to see live. I still have all those great early albums and Al did me the honour of signing them all.

Al’s first album – Bedsitter Images – suffered from a poppy production but the next few did away with most of that.

From seeing him quite often in the late sixties and early seventies I went decades without seeing him at all. I had a family and didn’t get out so much. Al had a huge couple of albums (Year of the Cat and Time Passages) and was playing big venues and he’d moved to America.

So I was quite interested to see that he was coming to Hull. He was playing with Dave Nachmanoff on second guitar, who was superb.

Well forty five years had made a bit of a difference. He did not look the same – but then none of us do. But he was very relaxed, even though suffering from jet-lag, had a great chilled personality, a great laugh and came out with some wonderful stories about Robert Fripp, Jimmy Page and Bert Jansch.

The set was all songs from Year of the Cat onwards and I would love to have heard a few of those old Folk songs again, but you can’t have everything. You can never have everything can you? His songs, full of historical reference, were all of a high standard and were entertaining on many levels. I like a singer who engages the brain as well as the gut.

It was a great set. I thoroughly enjoyed it – much more than I thought I would. His charming personality shone through. His songs were well-crafted. His voice was still great. Dave’s guitar was an excellent supplement. We had a great evening.

Unfortunately we were not allowed to take photos but I did anyway.

I had a little chat with him afterwards. It was good to see him.

I couldn’t help thinking that he looked more like a bank manager than a survivor of the sixties underground Folk scene. Ho hum. What time does to us. But I’ll definitely look out for him again.

Thanks Al.

The Boxer – Simon and Garfunkel

Posted on by Opher

There’s a line in this song that always stands out for me. Paul Simon wrote:

A man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest

I think that is so true. We all get fixed in our mental states and find it hard to keep an open mind.

We all sell off our resistance for a pocket full of mumbles. It’s all lies.

We all get beaten. It’s about picking ourselves back up from the canvas to fight again.

“The Boxer”

I am just a poor boy
Though my story’s seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of a railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie-la-lie…

Asking only workman’s wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie-la-lie…

Then I’m laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren’t bleeding me
Leading me
Going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the remainders
Of every glove that laid him down
And cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains

Lie-la-lie…