Patterson Hood is a great storyteller. I really like the way he deals with “the duality of the Southern Thing” and his many stories from & about Alabama.
The lyrics to this particular song is one of my Hood favourites. Anybody with even a remote interest in american history, and/or Alabama, should read (and listen to) this one.
I grew up in North Alabama, back in the 1970’s, when dinosaurs still roamed the earth
Speaking of course of the Three Great Alabama Icons George Wallace, Bear Bryant and Ronnie Van Zant Now Ronnie Van Zant wasn’t from Alabama, he was from Florida, He was a huge Neil Young fan
But in the tradition of Merle Haggard writin’ Okie from Muskogee to tell his dad’s point of view about the hippies in Vietnam, Ronnie felt that the other side of the story should be told.
And Neil Young always claimed that Sweet Home Alabama was one of his favorite songs.
And legend has it that he was an honorary pall bearer at Ronnie’s funeral – such is the Duality of the Southern Thing
~The Three Great Alabama Icons
OLD post … You’re being redirected to a newer version……
It’s four in the morning, the end of December
I’m writing you now just to see if you’re better
New York is cold, but I like where I’m living
There’s music on Clinton Street all through the evening.
–
The problem with that song is that I’ve forgotten the actual triangle. Whether it was my own – of course, I always felt that there was an invisible male seducing the woman I was with, now whether this one was incarnate or merely imaginary I don’t remember, I’ve always had the sense that either I’ve been that figure in relation to another couple or there’d been a figure like that in relation to my marriage. I don’t quite remember but I did have this feeling that there was always a third party, sometimes me, sometimes another man, sometimes another woman. It was a song I’ve never been satisfied with. It’s not that I’ve resisted an impressionistic approach to songwriting, but I’ve never felt that this one, that I really nailed the lyric. I’m ready to concede something to the mystery, but secretly I’ve always felt that there was something about the song that was unclear. So I’ve been very happy with some of the imagery, but a lot of the imagery.
~Leonard Cohen (BBC Radio Interview 1994)
Sometime in the early 1970s, a thief stole Leonard Cohen’s old raincoat from Marianne Ihlen’s New York apartment. God only know what happened to it, but the thief almost certainly had no idea he was stealing an object that belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, if not the Smithsonian. It was that very coat that inspired Cohen to write one of his most beloved and mysterious songs. It’s written in the form of a letter, possibly to the narrator’s brother, who stole his lover, Jane.
~rollingstone.com
Famous Blue Raincoat (from the album – Songs of Love and Hate)
My father used to play this great record by Roger Miller, “Roger Miller” from 1969. There was one particular song that has always stuck with me. Lately I have been listening to the lyrics more thorough and it has become one of my favourite country songs of all time.
It’s a relatively obscure record, but a great one, so start hunting collectors!
Where Have All the Average People Gone.
The late Dennis Linde wrote “Where Have All the Average People Gone.” Roger Miller recorded it and the song only reached No. 14 on the country chart in 1969, but the lyrics and social commentary still seems relevant. The song is about stereotypes and putting people into categories based on prejudices.
“Funny I don’t fit,
Where have all the average people gone?”
Roger Miller – Where have all the average people gone (audio):
Oh, six long years I’ve been in trouble, No pleasure here on earth I found. While in this world, I’m bound to ramble, I have no friends to help me out.
“Man of Constant Sorrow” (also known as “I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow“) is a traditional American folk song first recorded by Dick Burnett, a partially blind fiddler from Kentucky. The song was originally recorded by Burnett as “Farewell Song” printed in a Richard Burnett songbook, about 1913. An early version was recorded by Emry Arthur in 1928.
Brian Jones plucked the haunting sitar melody at the 1966 L.A. session for this classic. Bill Wyman added klezmer-flavored organ; studio legend Jack Nitzsche played the gypsy-style piano. “Brian had pretty much given up on the guitar by then,” said Richards. “If there was [another] instrument around, he had to be able to get something out of it. It gave the Stones on record a lot of different textures.”
~rollingstone.com
The principal riff of “Paint It Black” (almost all classic Rolling Stones songs are highlighted by a killer riff) was played on a sitar by Brian Jones and qualifies as perhaps the most effective use of the Indian instrument in a rock song. The exotic twang was a perfect match for the dark, mysterious Eastern-Indian melody, which sounded a little like a soundtrack to an Indian movie hijacked into hyperdrive.
~Richie Unterberger (allmusic.com)
