Saturday, March 31, 2012

Steve Martin on Earl Scruggs.

Some nights he had the stars of North Carolina shooting from his fingertips. Before him, no one had ever played the banjo like he did. After him, everyone played the banjo like he did, or at least tried. -Steve Martin, NewYorker Blogs.

Around 67/68, we came out of the Rialto/Venetian - a few feet away from a Dillinger crime - with imaginary guns blazing as we left Bonnie & Clyde on the wings of Flatt and Scruggs' Foggy Mountain Breakdown - the music was like from Mars - familiar and alien! Picket Earl Scruggs - play on in the ether!

Read more http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2012/01/steve-martin-earl-scruggs.html#ixzz1qi0HoYr6

Saturday, March 03, 2012

The word that Buddy Guy, Mick Jaegger, BBKing, Jeff Beck, Lotta Others were doing blues in White House got me to thinking. About the White House Blues. Found this bit on White House Blues. On cowboy lyrics.com. It's known to me via Bill Monroe,but was took forward by Charlie Poole and others. Story of death of McKinley. Which led to ascendancy of Teddy Roosevelt who (scroll down) Who invited the first time a Negro to come in the front door of the White House. And who went to (scroll down) France where he delivered his famous speech about The Man In The Arena. [By the way: on the White House blues show, I appreciated especially Mick Jaegger's tributes to Hubert Sumlin and Sonny Boy Williamson and to all the blues people who were welcoming when he met them, who were generous.

McKinley hollered , McKinley squalled
Doc said A“McKinley I can't find the cause
You're bound to die, you're bound to die

Doc told the horse, he'd throw down his rein
He said to the horse you gotta outrun this train
From Buffalo to Washington

The doc came a-running, he took off his specs
Said A“Mr Mckinley better cash in your checks
You've bound to die, you're bound to die

Look here, you rascal, you see what you've done
You shot my husband with an/your Ivor Johnson gun.
I'm carrying you back, to Washington

Well, Roosevelt's in the White House, doing his best
McKinley's in the graveyard taking his rest
He's gone, for a long time

The Colored Man (1927)


http://weeniecampbell.com/yabbse/index.php?topic=1602.msg46465#msg46465
Can You Blame The Colored Man (1927)

Got to thinking. And looking for these lyrics found WeenieCampbell.com where there was a very brilliant ongoing dissection of the work of the Miss. Sheikes, Cannon's Jug Stompers and the Memphis Jug Band. Talk about the White House Blues All Stars (including Booker T. and the MG/s) and Sweet home Chicago? Let's hear it for the first Black to go in the front door of the White House. Immortalized in blues..the story of the original Booker T. ....

Now, Booker T, he left Tuskegee, to the White House he went one day.
He was goin’ to call on the President in a quiet and a sociable way
He was in his car, he was feelin’ fine.

Now, when Booker knocked on the President’s door, old Booker begin to grin.
Now, he almost changed his color, when old Roosevelt says “A-come in,
We’ll have some dinner in a little while.”

Now, could you blame the colored man for makin’ them goo-goo eyes?
And when he sat down at the President’s table he began to smile
Eatin’ lamb, ham chicken roast, chicken, turkey, quail on toast
Now, could you blame the colored man for makin’ them goo-goo eyes?

Now, Booker was so delighted at the social that was given to him,
Well, he hired him a horse and carriage and he taken the whole town in.
He’s drunk on wine, was feelin’ fine.

Now, could you blame the colored man for makin’ them goo-goo eyes?
And when he sat down at the President’s table he began to smile
Eatin’ lamb, ham chicken roast, chicken, turkey, quail on toast
Now, could you blame the colored man for makin’ them goo-goo eyes?

My Boy Toy Lollipop


Finally...lets go to France. To the wife of the president or whatever the hell they call him over there. That's Carla Bruni. Who penned these lyrics below that to me are pretty surreal. Umm. this is a translation. so oerver!


You are the tombstone and I the epitaph
You are the text and I the paragraph
You are the bloopers and I the blunder
You are the elegance and I the grace
You are the effect and I the cause
You are the sofa and I the mental disorder
You the thorn and I the rose
You are the sadness and I the poet
http://lyricstranslate.com
http://lyricstranslate.com
moi toi

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