My influences – Music – Cerebrally

My influences – Music

 

Music has had the biggest impact on my life of anything. I have been transported by it, emotionally excited and cerebrally engaged.

 

Cerebrally  
Roy Harper I was fortunate enough to catch Roy when I was a mere slip of a lad and he was just starting out. I was at those gigs where epic songs such as McGoohan’s Blues and I Hate the Whiteman were new. I witnessed the passion and fury of a young Roy as he railed against the society we were imprisoned it and what it was doing to us and the world.

He seemed to mirror my own views and I spent hundreds of hours listening to Roy live, talking and explaining and in song and poem, and on record. What he was talking about resonated with me and caused me to think more deeply about what I was doing with my life. Roy fed my rebellious streak and made me take a long hard look at the society I was growing up in and its values.

Bob Dylan Back in the sixties there were two major issues – civil rights and war.

Bob Dylan in his early albums created songs that articulated the plight of blacks in the South, the civil rights movement, the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers and the cruel murder of Emmet Till.

He wrote of the futility of war, the threat of nuclear disaster and the stupidity of extreme right wing groups such as the John Birch Society.

He deployed humour and poetry to create a barbed attack on prejudice and Jim Crow and highlighted social injustice.

He awakened my awareness and raised my sensibilities.

Phil Ochs Phil also addressed those same civil rights issues but tended to focus more on the struggles of the working man, the trade unions and people’s rights. His songs were documentaries on politics and social issues.

Dylan sneered at him and called him a journalist. Well he wasn’t the poet that Dylan was but he certainly could bring political and social issues alive.

He made me think about exploitation, racism and communism.

Woody Guthrie Woody was where songs about social issues started. He used his guitar to oppose fascism, fight for workers’ rights, equality and a fairer society. He stood up against exploitation in the face of violence.

Woody took his philosophy with him where-ever he went – on picket lines, in radio studios, recording studios, and rambling around the country. He befriended and played with black musicians at a time when that was not condoned. Woody fought for what he believed in. His strength, fortitude and uncompromising attitude were an inspiration to me.

Quote 17 – Phil Ochs – I’m Gonna Say it Now – Words about speaking out.

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Phil Ochs spoke out. He was strident about equal rights, peace and freedom.

‘So 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’

It seems to me that if a person has something to say they should speak.

It is no good drifting along without engaging with the mad things going on. You cannot divorce yourself.

If there are things you disagree with then shout!

It won’t make you popular. It won’t make you friends. But you’ll be able to live with yourself.

These are my six books of poetry. They are available as paperback or on Kindle from Amazon – all for under £5 for a paperback. You could buy the whole lot for just £27.62!!

They are not conventional poetry books. They are like you find on my blog with a page of explanatory prose followed by the poem. The prose is as important as the poem to me.

 

Codas, Cadence and Clues – £4.97

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Codas-Cadence-Clues-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1530754453/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460847766&sr=1-4&keywords=opher+goodwin

Stanzas and Stances – £5.59

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stanzas-Stances-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1518708080/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882298&sr=1-9&keywords=opher+goodwin

Poems and Peons – £4.33

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Poems-Peons-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1519640110/ref=sr_1_25?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882335&sr=1-25&keywords=opher+goodwin

Rhymes and Reasons – £3.98

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rhymes-Reason-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1516991184/ref=sr_1_28?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882443&sr=1-28&keywords=opher+goodwin

Prose, Cons and Poetry – £4.60

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Prose-Cons-Poetry-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1512376566/ref=sr_1_35?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882506&sr=1-35&keywords=opher+goodwin

Vice and Verse – £4.15

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vice-Verse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514792079/ref=sr_1_36?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882560&sr=1-36&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

 

Science Fiction books:

 

Ebola in the Garden of Eden – paperback £6.95 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebola-Garden-Eden-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514878216/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831172&sr=1-11&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Green – paperback £9.98 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Green-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514122294/ref=sr_1_17?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831333&sr=1-17&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Rock Music books

 

In Search of Captain Beefheart – paperback £6.91 Kindle £1.99 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=146183144

3&sr=1-1&keywords=opher+Goodwin

 

Other selected books and novels:

 

Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings – a book of anecdotes mainly from the sixties and other writing.

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings/dp/1519675631/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-9&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

More Anecdotes – following the immense popularity of the first volume I produced a second

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/More-Anecdotes-Essays-Beliefs-flotsam/dp/1530770262/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-5&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Goofin’ with the cosmic freaks – a kind of On the Road for the sixties

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Goofin-Cosmic-Freaks-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1500860247/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-13&keywords=opher+goodwin

The book of Ginny – a novel

 

 

In Britain :

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1461306850&sr=1-2-ent

 

In America:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

In all other countries around the world check out your regional Amazon site and Opher Goodwin books.

 

Quote 7 – Woody Guthrie – This machine kills fascists

Woody Guthrie rambled round in the thirties, forties and fifties in America. He travelled with black and white alike. He stood for fairness and justice. He stood on picket lines with working men striking for a fair wage and fair treatment. He opposed injustice, racism, sexism and elitism.

He wrote songs like nobody had ever heard before.

The quote I am going to give from him is the one he painted on his guitar –

‘This machine kills fascists’

Woody Guthrie

It is a simple concept for a complex issue. He was saying that you do not destroy poisonous ideology like fascism and fundamentalism with guns – you destroy them with music, with words, with education. You change the minds not blow up the bodies.

That has informed my life.

Music is a powerful tool for changing people’s minds and awakening their humanity and love of their fellow men and women. The guitar was Woody’s weapon and a powerful one it was too.

Education is the other tool.

We won’t defeat ISIS on the battlefield alone – we need to educate the fools who believe in violence.

I nominate the following people;

Mary is into the environment with beautiful photos. I’m sure she could come up with a quote or two.

https://marybmaulsby.wordpress.com/

Matt is full of Beat poetry – Bukowski is his scene – though a bit of Kerouac and Ginsberg are not far awa.

http://beat.company/the-end/

Georgina writes about the incredible nature in Spain and Portugal.

https://navasolanature.wordpress.com/

If you would like to try one of my books they are all available on Amazon.

In Britain :

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1461306850&sr=1-2-ent

In America:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

In all other countries around the world check out your regional Amazon site and Opher Goodwin books.

Desert Island Discs – Part 2

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Little Richard – Rip it up

For most people it is Elvis Presley who epitomises that Rock ‘n’ Roll rebellion but for me it’s Little Richard. Elvis was a imitator and interpreter of the R&B scene. People like Little Richard, Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley were the real innovators. They created something out of nothing.

Little Richard’s incredible Gospel edged voice and raucous style was the visceral rebellion of the fifties. It rocked the establishment, mobilised the kids and got things moving.

Little Richard was energy unleashed.

 

Phil Ochs – Cops of the World

 

Nothing changes. When Phil wrote this song about the ‘Cops of the World’ he was singing about the American invasion of other countries, the rape and abuse and arrogance of it. That was back in the sixties during Vietnam. We’d yet to see the delights of Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya.

Phil was a reporter and chronicler, an idealist and commentator. He wrote some delightful, insightful songs.

Cops of the World is one of them.

 

Billy Bragg – World Turned Upside Down

 

Billy was another of my social/political bards. When he broke onto the scene with his portable sound system and ragged, shrill guitar, he was like a breath of fresh air. His spikey songs, like Between the Wars, were thought-provoking and perceptive. His rough voice was just right and his passion was real.

He sang about what he believed in and spoke his mind. Not only that – but he could write a song or two. For me he followed in the footsteps of Woody, Bob, Phil and Roy.

I like my music with a cerebral/social content. Billy had the heart for it.

 

Linton Kwesi Johnson – Sonny’s Lettah (Anti Sus Poem)

 

Linton put poems to reggae music and became the bard of Brixton. His words illustrated the Brixton riots and put into patois the feelings of the beleaguered black community. He was eloquent and his rich voice painted pictures. They were pictures of anger and resistance, pictures of unleashed fury and they told the story of discrimination and disadvantage, of persecution and distrust and an establishment that was the enemy.

Linton, like Michael Smith, had an ability to speak in the language of the black minority and articulate their feelings in passionate music that was brilliant in its own right.

Sonny’s Lettah is superb.

 

Bob Marley – Redemption Song

 

Reggae was a minority music beloved by Mods before Bob Marley turned it into a global phenomenon. The great thing is that he managed to do that without pandering to the lowest common denominator and watering down his music or message. He has Chris Blackwell to thank for melding it to a harder Rock beat that gave it more balls but it was just as uncompromising.

Bob was one of those geniuses who could write a song that stuck in your head that also had content and meaning. He expressed complicated thoughts in easy to grasp language.

Redemption song is a master’s song. It looks at slavery and then towards an optimistic future without racism, where black people will reach their potential.

I think he will be proved right.

 

Buffy St Marie – My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying.

 

Buffy was a full-blooded Native American Indian who was rightly proud of her heritage and wrote a series of excellent songs about it. These included Soldier Blue, Now That the Buffalos Gone and Universal Soldier. They are all good but pale before this incendiary epic about the lies and genocide perpetuated on the Plains Indians by the United States Government.

I discovered that Buffy was the only female I had in my top twenty songs. That made me think. I don’t think it’s sexism. I do like Janis Ian, Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, Janis Joplin, Patti Smith, Glace Slick and many others but I admit to having a tendency to prefer male voices.

So Buffy has to represent all women and she does it admirably. This is a really strong song. They don’t come any stronger.

 

The Clash – London Calling

 

The Sex Pistols were brilliant but the Clash were better. They were all the intelligent Punks but that demeans the lyrical genius of many of the Punk outfits. Johnny Rotten was no slouch with words. He could be pithy.

The Clash were criticized at the time for moving away from the Punk ethos and developing the music into more complex styles. Who cares? This is brilliant music. Why categorise it?

It was a great shame that they split up and fell apart with all that animosity. They were a great band and London Calling, with its imagery of a post-holocaust world is brilliant.

 

The Doors – Unknown Soldier

 

One of the best bands to come out of America. Consistently brilliant. They melded Jim Morrison’s poems to an incredible music and were all masters of their instruments.

If Jim Morrison had not been so self-destructive with his drinking they would have gone on to do a lot more. I think his alcohol consumption sapped his creative spirit and fed his disillusionment. By the end he was fed up with the hype and falseness of the industry and despised the whole pantomime. He even despised his audience and doubted their motives.

I chose Unknown Soldier because the image of the theatrical mock execution is cemented into my brain from their Roundhouse performance. I love the antiwar stance and that song was superb musically as well.

 

The Mothers of Invention – Help I’m a Rock

 

At one point in time they were another best band in the world. Nobody comes close to the satire and creativity of Zappa. He refused to be labelled or put in a pigeon-hole. Frank was Frank.

He also had a superb sense of humour.

Help I’m a Rock illustrates that. It was an early Dada masterpiece that brought me to tears of laughter. Brilliant.

We’re Only In It For the Money was a later genius of an album.

 

The Kinks – I’m Not Like Everybody Else

 

This was the B-side of Sunny Afternoon I believe. I used to put this on in my bedroom, on my Dansette with the arm raised, and play it endlessly when I was fifteen. It seemed to sum up exactly how I felt about the world. All the angst, disillusionment and rebellion would pour out in that strident vitriolic diatribe.

 

The Beatles – Come Together

 

We seem to be in an age when it’s cool not to like the Beatles; to align with the Stones. But it’s not an either or. I love them both.

What nobody can argue with is the impact of their music on Britain and the world. Rock music was dead and Britain was a backwater before the Beatles came along. They blew the doors down and kick-started the corpse.

Not only that but they developed and progressed so that they were always at the cutting edge of what was happening. They led the way. The West Coast bands looked to them.

It is also now convenient to focus on the more Pop and twee element of their repertoire – like Yesterday. I prefer their more complex, harder edged material – Revolution, Tomorrow Never Knows, Glass Onion and Strawberry Fields. I prefer my acerbic Lennon to the sweet McCartney.

Come Together was Lennon at his most inventive. No nonsense.

The Beatles were rightly the greatest Rock Band to have ever lived for a large number of reasons. The major one being that they were unremittingly brilliant.

 

That concludes my paltry list. I’ve had to leave out so much!

If you enjoy my poems or anecdotes why not purchase a paperback of anecdotes for £7.25 or a kindle version for free.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings/dp/1519675631/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1457515636&sr=1-3&keywords=opher+goodwin

Or a book of poetry and comment:

Rhyme and Reason – just £3.98 for the paperback or free on Kindle

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rhymes-Reason-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1516991184/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1457515636&sr=1-4&keywords=opher+goodwin

My other books are here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1457515636&sr=1-2-ent

Thank you and please leave a review.

The Blues Muse – The Contents list – Suggestions Welcome!

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A scan through here might reveal a little of the scope of the novel. It wasn’t easy finding plausible scenarios but I think I achieved it.

What comes across to you?

Contents

Dedication                                                      2

About the Author                                           3

Index                                                               4

Introduction                                                    7

Tutwiler Mississippi                                        9

Crystal Springs                                                12

Lula                                                                 15

Rolling Fork                                                    18

Yazoo                                                              19

The Crossroads                                               20

Clarkesdale                                                     22

Baton Rouge to New Orleans                         25

All at sea with Guthrie                                    29

New York                                                       31

Riding the blinds to California                       32

Briefly Mississippi                                          34

Nashville                                                         36

Mississippi Reprise and on to Chicago           39

McComb                                                         40

Tupelo                                                             42

Chicago                                                           44

White Station Mississippi                               48

Memphis                                                         53

New Orleans and Specialty                            58

Georgia and the South                                                60

Screamin’ and Flamin’ in the South               63

Back to Chicago                                             65

Lubbock Texas                                                71

Memphis again and Nashville again               75

Graceland                                                        78

Up in Canada                                                  80

New York                                                       81

New York Blues                                             84

Louisiana                                                         85

England                                                           87

Detroit                                                             90

New York again                                              92

England                                                           93

Liverpool                                                         94

The Cavern                                                      96

Hamburg Germany                                         98

London                                                           100

Richmond Surrey and the Thames Delta        102

Swinging London                                           109

New York yet again                                        112

Greenwich Village                                          115

The Gaslight                                                    120

Greystone Park State Hospital                        123

Newport                                                          124

Washington                                                     125

The Gaslight again                                          128

British Invasion                                               129

Newport two                                                   132

Manchester                                                      135

Soho                                                                138

More Soho                                                      141

TV Breaks                                                       143

Psychedelic London                                       144

Hyde Park                                                       148

Dylan’s accident                                             150

San Francisco                                                  151

Los Angeles                                                    154

Memphis and Monterey                                  156

London                                                           159

Tolworth                                                         162

Eel Pie Island                                                  165

Hammersmith                                                  167

Windsor                                                          169

New York                                                       172

Hyde Park                                                       175

Woodstock                                                      177

Electric Ladyland                                           180

Altamont                                                         182

The Isle of Wight                                            184

Country Rock                                                 186

Nellcote – South of France                             185

Hammersmith                                                  188

Kilburn and Ascot                                          190

Laurel Canyon                                                            192

CBGBs and the Chelsea Hotel                       193

Jamaica                                                            195

Plymouth                                                         197

Sheffield                                                         199

Rome and Chicago                                         201

Islington                                                          203

West London                                                  206

Belfast                                                             208

Barking                                                           210

Asbury Park                                                    211

Brixton                                                            212

New York                                                       214

Central Park                                                    216

Hull                                                                 218

 

Other books by this Author that you might enjoy.     220

In Search of Captain Beefheart – A book about the search for perfect Rock Music.

Opher Pete high

A short extract from ‘In Search of Captain Beefheart’ – a book about growing up with Rock Music.

On the starting line

Once I got out of Clive’s bedroom I began my quest in earnest. I looked everywhere I could but there were no signs of my heroes. This was probably due to two things: firstly I was an eleven year old kid living in the Delta region of the Deep South (Thames Delta that is – Walton on Thames) and there was very little in the way of record shops or live venues (Walton on Thames was not renowned for its boulevard cruisin’ in red Cadillac’s or its jiving’ Honky Tonks and Juke Joints) and secondly my heroes were still out of circulation. Woody was going down with the terrible Huntingdon’s Chorea which would stop him performing and writing anymore. Don Van Vliet was probably living out on his trailer in the desert with his mum Sue and hanging out at school with Frank Zappa. Roy was causing mayhem Blackpool way with Beat poetry, feigned madness, army desertion and pregnant girlfriends. Bob was doing his Little Richard impersonations and starting out on the road to putting together his auto-constructed mythology and was about to start singing to Woody in the sanatorium. Son House hadn’t been rediscovered and had yet to relearn the guitar, get back in the studio and be trundled out to white audiences.
I filled my time in by substituting in other heroes.
Hard on the heels of Buddy and Adam I soon discovered Elvis, Eddie, Cliff and then the revelation of Little Richard. He was explosive! ‘Here’s Little Richard’ was an immense album. I got obsessed with it. That voice belting out that basic thumping Gospel influenced yet wholly secular primitive Rock ‘n’ Roll along with his wild pounding piano. He was the true King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. There was no one to touch him. Elvis, who copied a lot of his songs, was a pale imitation in more ways than one. I remember sitting on the sofa with my 52 year old big fat jolly Nanny (Grandma), who was shortly destined to have a stroke and die, and watching a Little Richard, come-back, hour long TV show in the early 60s. He put everything into it. The sweat was beaded on his face and dripping off him. He stood and hammered the keys, played it with his foot, backside and elbow and pulled off every trick in the book while my Nanny roared him on and bounced around causing the sofa to suffer earthquakes. My Nan was a rocker!
My school had a fete and I took my Dansette in with my record collection and performed as a Juke Box. I charged six pence a play and only played Little Richard all afternoon. I didn’t get to make much but I had a great time!
I finally got to meet my hero not so long ago when he played in Bradford. I took my younger son Henry with me as an essential part of his education (I also took him to see Chuck Berry, Rambling Jack Elliott, Love, The Magic Band, Lazy Lester & Jerry Lee Lewis and got him to see Bo Diddley, the Fall, the Buzzcocks and John Cooper Clarke). The Little Richard Show was a strange affair. There seemed to be three elements to it. There was the Rock ‘n’ Roll – but lacking in the energy and athleticism – he was in his mid seventies – but there was also this cloying evangelical Christian crap and a very camp gayness all of which did not quite gel with raw Rock ‘n’ Roll. It left me feeling dissatisfied. I would have loved to have seen him in 1957 when he was revolutionary. Even more disturbing was going back after the show to see him. He was doing a poster signing. There was a long queue and two big black heavies on the door who were distinctly underworld. They collected your £30 quid off you with a very heavy warning: you went in shook hands, had your poster signed – if you tried to get anything else signed, like my original ‘Here’s Little Richard’ album from my childhood it would be taken off me and smashed. I got the feeling that there would likely be a few more things broken in the bargain.
I walked up to get my poster signed by the great Mr Penniman with the guy from the support act. He’d done a great version of ‘Casting my spell’ and I said that it sounded just like the Measles version that I used to love. He was nice and friendly and turned out to be the lead singer with the Measles.
The next few years were quite fallow for me and lacking in real heroes. The charts, which we all drooled over, were full of sanitised Pop stuff – Fabian, Bobby Darin, Bobby Vee and Bobby Rydell. Some of it was OK and I quite liked Del Shannon, Roy Orbison and Dion & the Belmonts but I drew the line at Bobby Vee and Fabian and had headed off back into the 1950s for my fix. I devoured all the Buddy Holly, Little Richard and Eddie Cochran I could get my hands on and added some Shadows, Gene Vincent, Fats Domino, Huey ‘Piano’ Smith, and early Elvis before discovering the bombshells of Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley.
I didn’t know what I was searching for. I thought I’d found it in good old Rock ‘n’ Roll. It hit you right in the belly and got you moving. I thought everyone should record fast rockers. Rock ‘n’ Roll was great but it wasn’t the whole caboodle. I would grow up a little.
I had a lot to learn.
The lean years ended in 1963.

Woody Guthrie – Mean Talking Blues – Lyrics and rambling!

I’m having a bad day. I’m feeling frustrated, disgruntled, miserable and down

I got up this morning and the central heating was off. The house was freezing. I switched on the lights and a bulb blew and flicked the electrics. The toilet was blocked. My computer is not functioning properly. The internet is a snails pace. I can’t open emails or big documents. I can’t write. I’m too grouchy and annoyed. Nobody has bought any of my books today. I have three books to correct and I can’t download them. I’m fed up!

Well I unblocked the loo, changed the bulb and did the electrics and got the central heating going.

Doesn’t make a jot of difference. I’m still down.

So I went and sorted a Woody Guthrie song that fitted my mood. Woody Guthrie is a master poet/songwriter and I love him. He has a song for every occasion. This song is about the meanest guy that ever lived. I figured that this guy must have been around messing up my life. What d’ya think?

Mean Talking Blues Lyrics
“Mean Talking Blues” was written by Woody Guthrie.
I’m the meanest man that ever had a brain
All I scatter is aches and pains
I’m carbolic acid and a poison face
And I stand flat-footed in favor of crime and disgrace
If I ever done a good deed, I’m sorry of it

I’m mean in the East, mean in the West
Mean to the people that I like the best
I go around a-causin’ lot of accidents
And I push folks down and I cause train wrecks
I’m a big disaster, just goin’ somewhere’s to happen
I’m an organized famine studyin’, now I can be a little bit meaner
I’m still a whole lot too good to suit myself, just mean

I ride around on the subway trains
Laughin’ at the tight shoes dealin’ you pain
And I laugh when the car shakes from side to side
I laugh my loudest when other people cry
Can’t help it, I was born good, I guess
Just like you or anybody else
But then I just turned off mean

I hate ev’rybody don’t think like me
And I’d rather see you dead than I’d ever see you free
Rather see you starved to death than see you at work
And I’m readin’ all the books I can to learn how to hurt
Daily misery, spread diseases, keep you without no vote
Keep you without no union

Well, I hurt when I see you gettin’ ‘long so well
I’d ten times rather see you in the fires of hell
I can’t stand to fixed
See you there all fixed up in that house so nice
I’d rather keep you in that rotten hole with the bugs and the lice
And the roaches and the termites
And the sand fleas and the tater bugs

And the grub worms and the stingaree’s
And the tarantulas, and the spiders, childs of the earth
The ticks and the blow-flies, these is all of my little angels
That go ’round helpin’ me do the best parts of my meanness
And mosquiter’s

Well, I used to be a pretty fair organized feller
Till I turned a scab and then I turned off yeller
Fought ev’ry union with teeth and toenail
And I sprouted a six-inch stinger right in the middle of the tail
And I growed horns
And then I cut ’em off, I wanted to fool you
I hated union ever’where, ’cause God likes unions and I hate God

Well, if I can get the fat to hatin’ the lean
That’d tickle me more than anything I’ve seen
Then get the colors to fightin’ one another
And friend against friend, and brother and sister against brother
That’ll be just it

Everybody’s brains a-boilin’ in turpentine
And their teeth fallin’ out all up and down the streets
That’ll just suit me fine
‘Cause I hate ever’thing that’s union
And I hate ever’thing that’s organized
And I hate ever’thing that’s planned
And I love to hate and I hate to love
I’m mean, I’m just mean

 

Hope I don’t get like that. Mean people aren’t born; they are made. Life warps them. Our job is to give ’em a smile and a helping hand. What those fascists and fundamentalists need are cuddles.

My grandson Nathan invented a love-gun that turned baddies into goodies.

Today I wished he’d developed a happy gun that turned miseries into ecstasies and fixed all your problems. Wouldn’t that be great.

 

The Blues Muse – Possible change of name – The Blues Chameleon – What do you think?

Arthur Brown 1

My good lady, who is reading through my first draft and doing some brilliant editing, does not think that Blues Muse accurately describes the nature of the book. She believes the character through which the story is told is much more of a witness than a muse.

He moves through the story and changes as he moves from era to era. This morphing is more like that of a chameleon.

Her view is that the title should reflect this. It should be called Blues Chameleon.

Now I know this may not have quite the same alliterating ring but it is more accurate.

What do you think?

The meaning of life. Cheryl. Bob Dylan. Consumerism. Fundamental Religion. Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie.

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Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

Thanks to Cheryl for stimulating this train of thought when she asked about the pointlessness and emptiness of our consumer driven society. I think that its moronic emptiness is driving people into fundamental religion which is even worse.

I am reminded of that incredible poem Bob Dylan did where he talked about god and Woody Guthrie and awe and wonder and ended saying they can all be found at Grand Canyon at sunset. That’s how I feel. I don’t need religion, god or afterlife to do good things, reward or punish, because my life is full and fulfilled, I can find my wonder and awe in communion with others, friendship, love, creativity, and the wonders and majesty of the world around me. If there is a god I am sure that it is not confined to any words written in any ancient (or modern) text. That force would be as much in Bob Dylan’s lyrics as in any Koran or Bible. And I’m sure that any god would not care a jot what I believed in, what rituals I followed, so much as the actions that I’ve done. In my mind any god is more akin to the atomic energy that pervades the universe and everything in it. I do not believe in any moral aspect or interest in human lives. It is an elemental force that we are all part of. We don’t have to believe in it or anything. We have a life and we live it as positively as we can. We try to fill it with love, creativity and assist others and in that way we find our own happiness and fulfilment.

This poem by Bob was so full of insight and wonder. For someone so young it was incredible to see the scope and depth of its content. Woody would have been proud to hear it.

It certainly moved me, inspired me and made me think. In it was a rejection of consumerism, capitalism and the empty, meaningless poverty of lives. Hedonism and pointless, mindless fun were lambasted as a way of life.

No you can’t find meaning and fulfilment by buying, owning, possessing; by pointless fun, or sex, or wealth. There is a deeper experience that flows from love, friendship, creativity and the wonder and awe of appreciating the beauty and majesty of life and the universe we life in. I’d call that spirituality but I wouldn’t put god, religion or any afterlife in that equation.

Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie – Bob Dylan

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you’re too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin’ behind an’ losin’ yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life’s busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin’ up
If the wine don’t come to the top of yer cup
If the wind’s got you sideways with with one hand holdin’ on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood’s easy findin’ but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin’ and the street gets too long
And you start walkin’ backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow’s mornin’ seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin’
And yer rope is a-slidin’ ’cause yer hands are a-drippin’
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe’s a-pourin’
And the lightnin’s a-flashing and the thunder’s a-crashin’
And the windows are rattlin’ and breakin’ and the roof tops a-shakin’
And yer whole world’s a-slammin’ and bangin’
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
“I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn’t they tell me the day I was born”
And you start gettin’ chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you’re lookin’ for somethin’ you ain’t quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world’s a-watchin’ with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she’s long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they’re fryin’
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell’s bangin’ loudly but you can’t hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes’ve turned filthy from the sight-blindin’ dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an’ fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin’ three queens
And it’s makin you mad, it’s makin’ you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin’ around a pinball machine
And there’s something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin’
But it’s trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin’ in bed
And no matter how you try you just can’t say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion’s mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you’d never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin’
On this road I’m walkin’, on this trail I’m turnin’
On this curve I’m hanging
On this pathway I’m strolling, in the space I’m taking
In this air I’m inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I’m playing, on this banjo I’m frailin’
On this mandolin I’m strummin’, in the song I’m singin’
In the tune I’m hummin’, in the words I’m writin’
In the words that I’m thinkin’
In this ocean of hours I’m all the time drinkin’
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they’re around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
“Cause sometimes you hear’em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin’
And you can’t remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it’s something special you’re needin’
And you know that there’s no drug that’ll do for the healin’
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin’ train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That’s been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don’t bar no race
That won’t laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin’ long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it’s you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you’re sitting
That the world ain’t got you beat
That it ain’t got you licked
It can’t get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope’s just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner ’round a wide-angled curve

But that’s what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
“Cause you look an’ you start getting the chills

“Cause you can’t find it on a dollar bill
And it ain’t on Macy’s window sill
And it ain’t on no rich kid’s road map
And it ain’t in no fat kid’s fraternity house
And it ain’t made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain’t on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it’s funny
No you can’t find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain’t in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you’re bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain’t a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain’t in the rumors people’re tellin’ you
And it ain’t in the pimple-lotion people are sellin’ you
And it ain’t in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star’s blouse
And you can’t find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can’t tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain’t in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain’t in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain’t in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin’ and tappin’ in Christmas wrappin’
Sayin’ ain’t I pretty and ain’t I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can’t even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you’ll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache¥
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain’t in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who’d turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back
My friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can’t find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain’t in the ones that ain’t got any talent but think they do
And think they’re foolin’ you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while ’cause they know it’s in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin’, “Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain’t there no one here that knows where I’m at
Ain’t there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AIN’T REAL”

No but that ain’t yer game, it ain’t even yer race
You can’t hear yer name, you can’t see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin’
Where do you look for this lamp that’s a-burnin’
Where do you look for this oil well gushin’
Where do you look for this candle that’s glowin’
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You’ll find God in the church of your choice
You’ll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it’s only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You’ll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/last-thoughts-woody-guthrie#ixzz3p07kR1g8

Short extract from my latest book on Rock Music – I welcome views/feedback/suggestions for a title.

Rock Routes

I’m three chapters in to my new book on Rock music. My main character is living the life and following the history through. I’m trying to bring all those events to life. My man is the muse, the witness and participant. He was there at every crossroad. He never gets older and like a chameleon he blends in.

I’m looking for suggestions for a title – feedback on the extract – views. Anything!

Here’s a short extract:

I headed back to Clarkesdale and was staying across the road from what is now the Riverside Hotel. Back then it was the G T Thomas hospital for Negroes. I was sitting on the porch just across from the place strumming my guitar and working on a new tune. I was so engrossed that the ambulance pulling in must have passed me by. I still had hopes of fostering a career out of my music and was preparing for the evening Juke.

Slim was working as an orderly at the hospital and came across to sit by my side.

‘You heard the news?’ he asked, looking extremely serious.

I shook my head and waited for him to tell me. Slim would normally give me the low-down on all the comings and goings of the hospital. It was a busy place. I was expecting some line about an acquaintance of ours. I didn’t expect it to be quite so far-reaching.

‘That was Bessie Smith they just brought in.’

My attention immediately snapped to full on. Bessie was not quite my kind of thing, too jazzy and vaudeville for my tastes, but she was enormous and I liked her well enough. Everyone had her 78s. You could hear her songs coming out of everywhere. She was one of those black women who had crossed that barrier. The white folks were digging her, though I was dang sure that most of them weren’t picking up on some of the things she was putting down in her songs. They were pretty close to the knuckle.

‘She’s bin in a car crash,’ Slim informed me. ‘Looks real bad. Her arm was hanging off. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.’