DOJ cites Ferguson for deploying snipers. Assad in MO?

1. The Great Roll Call ‏@Mghtyfieldofvsn  6s6 seconds ago

   #DOJ cites Ferguson for deploying snipers during unrest. Didn't know Assad in MO. Stop Militarization of U.S. Police

   

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Make No Mistake, Price and Clay Put the Music World on Notice With “This Time For Real”

About every five years or so a Soul album comes out that is so good, so right, that you are scared your turntable’s stylus will melt down.  I think of Eddie Floyd’s, William Bell’s and Otis Reddings great records on Stax in the 1960s, Al Green and the Hi Rhythm sections records produced by Willie Mitchell in the 70’s, out on the West Coast it was  Charles Wright and the Watts  103rd Street Rhythm Band.  You can’t forget Tyrone Davis, ZZ Hill,  Syl Johnson or Mr. Bobby Bland down South. Back East you had Gene Chandler and Curtis Mayfield in fact sometimes it was hard to tell them apart.  Down in New Orleans there was Eddie Bo, Willie Tee, the Meters and later the Nevilles.  God I love sweet soul music.  I sure wish they still made music like that... 

Well my Christmas wish came early this year or more precisely on May 19, 2015 because that is the day that two of my favorite soul singers still fighting the good fight, Otis Clay and Billy Price joined forces and released their absolutely wonderful new album, “This Time for Real”.

I know coming from me, you’re thinking “For Real?”  No Really, it is that good.  From the opening strains of “Somebody Changing My Sweet Baby’s Mind” you are transported to that musical Loveland where songs like Davis’ “Can I change My Mind”” and Floyd’s “I Never Found A Girl” serve as sweet inspiration, all the way through to the albums last track, an inspired version of “You Got Me Hummin’” that finds Clay and Price channeling Sam and Dave so authentically it is downright spooky.  Along the way the former Hi Records stable mate to Al Green and the Hodges and Billy Price aka William Pollak of Roy Buchannan and the Keystone Rhythm Band fame prove.

Everything works on this disc, ably produced by Duke Robillard a man who knows just a little about working with great horn sections.  Robillard, a cofounder of Roomful of Blues,  tapped two of the current members of Roomful, Doug Woolverton on trumpet and Mark Earley on Saxes , to round out his current band of Mark Teixiera on drums, Brad Hallen on bass, Bruce Bears on keys and of course Duke handling all guitars.  Add the excellent backup vocals trio of Theresa Davis, Dianne Madison, Diana Simon and the result is a band that will have you doing double takes to the liner notes (for which I thank you Bill and Mark!).  

I would be remiss if I did not mention that Mr. Earley arranged all the horns on this record.  Just listen to the horns on tracks like "All Because of Your Love" and "Too Many Hands" and you will agree that the arrangements and execution are top notch.  Woolverton and Earley deserve a big share of the credit for giving this record its timeless, authentic feel and tone.

Besides the above mentioned tracks, highlights for me include something funky, Syl Johnson’s “Goin to the Shack” which is perfect pacing in follow up to the sugar rush from the opening track and the slow burn of "I'm Afraid of Losing You" which follows.  The previously mentioned “All Because of Your Love”  is so good I am without words …You get the picture.   For the romantically inclined listen how Clay and Price handle "Love Don't Love Nobody".  The two singers voices compliment each other very nicely and the phrasing throughout the album is impeccable.   For Americana and country fans there is a great version of Book of Memories complete with Bruce Bears' honky tonk piano and Duke adding some Nashville inspired licks on guitar.

I also just love the selection of Los Lobos “Tears of God” which brings to mind Ruthie Foster’s cd “Let it Burn” from a few years back.  Like "This Time For Real" Ruthie did an album of mostly covers for "Let It Burn" but the arrangements were so fresh and the performances so killer, you did not care.  Like Price and Clay she also covered a Los Lobos track, "This Time" and made it her own.

No detail was overlooked in this labor of love with beautiful art and design by MaryBianchi and Hyla Willis.  Add David Aschkenas very cool photography and the end result is a gorgeous product that must be owned in its tangible form.  

Let's hope that Clay, Price and Robillard as well as the the Roomful horn players can coordinate their schedules this summer and Fall  to do some live performances showcasing this material.  If you do get out to see Mr  Clay and/or Mr. Price buy the cd directly from them at their show or, if like me, you can’t wait, it can be purchased at http://www.billyprice.com/billyprice/store.php

Riley Ben "Blues Boy" B.B. King: September 26, 1925 - May 14, 2015

When I learned of the death of Riley Ben "B.B." King my first thoughts went to my old friend and former client Ron Levy.  Ron was blessed to be the keyboard player in the B.B. King Band from 1969 to 1976.  Due to the number of condolences he received, Ron prepared the most beautiful tribute to Mr. King I have come  across to date.  With Mr. Levy's express permission I republish the following tribute:

"My B.B. King” by Ron Levy

I was privileged to have the unique and special honor of working with one of the greatest American artists of all time, B.B. King. A great man known and loved around the world for his grace, soulful musical genius and genuine humility. Mr. King is not just ‘King of the Blues’ but a beloved man whose personal qualities and examples of leadership earned the love and respect of every one of us that worked for and knew him.

B.B. often called me his “son” on and off stage and treated me like one he truly loved. The feeling was mutual and always will be. As a personal and musical role model, I never saw him fail to take the high road, or give less than 100% of himself.

I described and detailed many specific examples of this in my book, “Tales of A Road Dog” (published by Levtron.com) devoting five chapters to Mr. King and the B.B. King musical family I grew up with on the road performing on every continent short of Antarctica. A family that B.B. nurtured and a family whose devotion and familial bonds are still strong today. Every musician who played for Mr. King either before or since my tenure (1969-76), shares this same fraternal kinship and always will, as well as our mutual friends.

Lately, many have wondered, “Why is B.B. still working despite his advanced age and declining health?” The answer is simple. Mr. King has always felt an unwavering responsibility for “his” people, the musicians whose livelihoods and families depended on him. He also felt a great responsibility and love towards his unwavering fans. I never saw him leave a venue until he had signed autographs, posed for photos and spoke or listened to every single fan that came to him. He was always a true gentleman. So many times over the years he would remember the names of these fans, and their children and relatives. Some of whom he might not have seen in decades. He loved all people with a king sized heart and was giving of himself to a fault, pained if he felt he ever let anyone down.

B.B. has given me many fond memories. I still cherish his hearty laugh and broad smile when remembering his response to one of my crazy stories or jokes, youthful naiveté or something I played well he liked. Sometimes he’d grimace when I played, said or did something back-asswards too! Yet he was just as gentle at those times; setting me straight and making sure ‘I got it’. Combining the patience of Job with the wisdom of Solomon and his Delta country parables, he won my total respect and admiration. His wholehearted paternal pride inspired me to work harder to do my very best, just like him.

I was only sixteen years old when I first met Mr. King in 1967 as a fan. Now in my sixties and 23 years older than B.B. was when we first met, I know it still amuses him to regard me as a grown man. During our reunion after a concert last year, we were able to share things with each other man to man, that grew quite personal and emotional. Unspoken, we both realized this could be our very last time together. He graciously asked me to play on his next album even though we both knew it would never be. Eventually he tired and we bade each other our fond farewells, and hugged goodbye. We had reached deeply inside each other’s hearts and souls once again.

And, it was very good and complete.

Ron Levy

For more on Mr. Levy's life and times, not only the B.B. King Band but in Albert King's Band as well an incredible life in music, order his wonderful book "Tales of a Road Dog:  The Lowdown along the Blues Highway" at http://www.levtron.com/  and I guarantee you will not be disappointed.

A nation will not survive morally or economically when so few have so much, while so many have so little.

Alejandro Escovedo Brings His Sensitive Boys Back to the Dakota Jazz Club

Fresh off successful gigs in my two favorite cities on earth, New Orleans and Memphis, Alejandro Escovedo brings his Sensitive Boys back to the

head waters of the Mississippi this Thursday May 7, 2015 to a room which defies its name, the Dakota Jazz Club in Minneapolis. 

Despite the name, the Dakota and its mercurial owner Lowell Pickett has been quietly booking some of the better Americana, Roots and Blues acts to his first rate restaurant and music club located on the first floor of an office tower at the corner of Tenth Street and Nicollet Avenue in downtown Minneapolis for years now.  

While to some the idea of béarnaise and the blues may seem as out of place as, say, escargot and Escovedo, the naysayers couldn’t be more wrong.  And if you think that the club formerly associated with the white hair, white shoes and white belt crowd might even subconsciously effect the type of show that Americana and Roots fans favorites like Dave Alvin and Escovedo perform when at the Dakota, just check out my past reviews.

At one recent Dakota show witnessed by yours truly, Escovedo even took perverse pleasure in breaking down the staid stereotype of the home of jazz denizens by mockingly apologizing for the volume level of his performance just before turning it up another notch ala Dylan gone electric.

So if you have not yet o.d.’d on boxing analogies in the aftermath of the “fight of the century”, if you are within driving distance of the Twin Cities this Thursday do not miss a chance to see the True Believer son of a prizefighter, the “Man of the world” who openly boasts “I can take a punch, I can take a swing” and unlike the suckers who paid too much for a mediocre fight on pay per view, you won’t be disappointed. 

Roadtrip Report: Hope and Optimism From the Heartland

 

As we gear up for the next big smackdown, aka the Presidential election cycle, I thought for a change I would spend a little time to report back on what is right in America these days as the Great Roll Call finally lived up to its new name with the addition of the word Roadtrip to its monker. 

 

My great nephew Hayden is celebrating his first birthday today and my son August celebrated his 20th birthday on Friday.  As I rarely get to see my sister's family even though they live just 4 states away in Oklahoma and I in Minnesota, I though this would be the perfect occasion to surprise them with a visit.  Thanks to some last minute juggling by my friends Bob and Cassie at work and an incredibly generous offer from my old buddy Ralph, who agreed to take Sausage the wonder dog into his home for the weekend, August and I were able to break the ties that bind and slip our mortal coils in Minnesota about 1:00 A.M. Saturday March 7th.

 

  

With a full moon high in the clear, cold, Minnesota night sky, the two amigos headed South on I35 like a couple of Blues Brothers on a mission from God.  One of the first things I am glad to report is the infrastructure known as the interstate highway system, though a bit frayed these days, got us to our destination safe and sound.  

 

About 5:00 A.M. I started to get double vision and my son suggested we pull off at the next rest area to rest our eyes for a couple hours.  It did not take long before we were greeted by a blue rest area sign and were pulling into a well maintained rest area in Southern Iowa crowded with big rigs but we had the car side all to ourselves.  My little car was surprisingly comfortable with the front seats laid all the way down and we were out in no time.  

 

After a couple hours shut eye we were sufficiently refreshed to continue with PBS Weekend Morning edition as our travel companion.  While Scott Simon kept us up to date with what was happening in an ever complicated and discouraging world, there were also lots of signs of good news too.  The economy was finally picking up steam, job numbers and GPD were up to some of their best levels in nearly twenty years and from what we saw in Iowa and Missouri, attests to just how far we have come since the nadir of the Great Recession seven years ago.  

Every where we looked we saw signs of a great country on its way back.  As we rolled into Kansas City around 9 A.M. on a Saturday morning traffic was heavy with people on their way to jobs that did not exist at the height of the recession.  I can remember a time not too long ago when you could have fired a cannon of grapeshot down the middle of the freeways and beltways that encircle this country's major metropolitan areas and you would have been lucky to have hit just one car, now the carnage would be akin to that of the First Minnesota Regiment at Gettysburg.

 

We stopped at the Harrah's Casino in Kansas City with the idea we would buy some cigars and play a few hands of blackjack only to be turned back by Missouri's minimum age of 21 to gamble.   It was however an opportunity to restore on a very small scale the hopes for better race relations in the country as my son and I were assisted by a couple of lovely African American women employees of Harrah's in finding the nearest tobacco store to purchase cigars to hand out at my great nephew's party.

 

 

 

After biscuits and gravy at the Hardees in Ottawa Kansas it was back on the road again.  We made good time in the rolling hills of the  Flint Hill Grasslands as we continued heading West towards Wichita and passed an old favorite haunt, the Cotillion Ballroom home of many memorable Roomful of Blues shows I attended over the years.  Just as we were getting tired of the monotony that is the interstate we got off it in favor of the slower but more scenic state highway and a more direct route to our eventual destination, Hardtner, Kansas. 

 

Unfortunately this was also to prove a costly decision for your lead footed narrator.  As we got within 20 miles of our eventual destination I was still traveling at interstate velocity and failed to notice the oncoming SUV until it lit up like a Christmas tree signaling me to pull over.  I immediately did and had an encounter with an affable and thoroughly professional officer with the Kansas State Patrol.  Anyone who has read this blog or knows me is well aware of my intolerance for misuse of power committed by those sworn to protect and serve. There was no attempt to expand the scope of a routine traffic stop into a fishing expedition for extra income for his department via the often misused civil forfeiture laws.  So even though it cost me hard earned money I really could not afford to part with, I accept personal responsibility and tip my hat to Officer Quick for the professional and legal manner in which he conducted the stop.

 

If only police departments in Ferguson, Missouri, Los Angeles County or the City of Minneapolis had members in their departments the caliber of Officer Quick of the Kansas State Patrol the state of law enforcement and  community relations in this country would be in a much better place.  

 

While you can always debate whether these periodic economic ups and downs are merely cyclical or that the government really does not make that much of a difference in these matters,  one way or another, one needs only to look to the decisions made by the European Union for comparison to see the wisdom of our current administration's policies.  Unlike Europe and Great Britain which pursued a policy of austerity for austerity sake, the Obama Administration and Federal Reserve pursued an economic policy emphasizing government stimulus and low interest rates as private capital had all dried up and the markets screeched to a halt.  

 

In retrospect, if you are at all honest with yourself, it would be hard to fault the President and not admit this was a superior approach over the Hoover like sit back and do nothing approach of his predecessor or the austerity approach which had landed both Europe and Great Britain back to the brink of another recession.  Despite all the racist xenophobia on the right and the "sky is falling" harbinger of doom cries from the Tea Party, stimulus spending did not bankrupt the country and end life in America as we know it, rather, it saved it.  

 

Furthermore I truly hope that it dispels once and for all the banal and absurd notions of the Tea Party that problems to a system as complex as the national economy, with concepts like the federal deficit, national debt and their interplay with federal fiscal policies could be reduced down and solved as simply and easily as balancing the household checkbook at the kitchen table, if we only had the gumption.  These views, which to some seem like common sense, are as misleading and misguided as they are naive.

 

No, it is morning in America again and I'm not referring to that Madison Avenue fantasy that was sold to the American public some 30 years ago at the Republican Convention as a distraction, so that they could continue to implement that failed and cynical economic policy known as trickle down.  Just look around and see the result of that devastating policy:  a non-existent middle class, and an ever burgeoning class of working poor.  I had to laugh the other day when I heard the news report that 80% of Americans still referred to themselves as middle class yet were living paycheck to paycheck.

 

If I was granted just one wish regarding the upcoming presidential election of 2016 it would be for Americans to really think their next vote out.  Take some time, pay attention to the details, get news from multiple, diverse sources (including some foreign news sources) and from original sources if possible.   and bone up on their knowledge of American history  and  socioeconomic demographics.  As we have trended more conservative are we doing better off or are you, like I, really uncomfortable by the all time record level of inequality and disparity in wealth?  Is your lifestyle, quality of life, (e.g. time away from work) getting better?  As we advance as a society, are all the benefits and rewards for the most productive labor force in the history of the world getting misdirected to a tiny number of elites in society and in a hugely disproportionate ratio between compensation and their contribution to an organization's success.

 

BRINGING IT ALL BACK HOME: DYLAN USES ACCEPTANCE SPEECH AS MUSICCARES PERSON OF THE YEAR TO SAY THANK YOU, SHED INSIGHT ON HIS SONGWRITING, SPEAK TRUTH TO POWER IN THE MUSIC INDUSTRY (AND GET A FEW THINGS OFF HIS CHEST)

Like a Pineapple Express, last night at the MusicCares Awards banquet, where he was honored as its person of the year, Bob Dylan opened up and let out a torrential downpour that lasted for over a half hour.  A torrent of thanks to those who have helped him, especially early in his career, let us in like never before on how it was that he came to write, no channel, the Zeitgeist of one of America's most iconic periods, the Sixties, deliver with Joan Baez like "devastating honesty" his critique on various aspects of the music industry and music press and, along the way, gets a few things that have been welling up off his chest.

This might seem strange to some coming from a guy who was the Brian Williams of his day when it came to his personal biography, apparently so insecure, ashamed (or resentful) of his Minnesota roots that he invented a music resume that included time spent in the Southwest under the tutelage of a blues master.  But who can fault him, or Williams or Rather (Dan) for that matter?  Certainly not I.  If you are genuine and have been around for any length of time you will discover that what makes up a person are not isolated incidents, but rather who one is as a person are the sum of a lifetime of incidents and as far as I am concerned all three of the aforementioned gentlemen are well out of the red and into the black in the great Neil Young ledger book of life.

So when my brother, a great admirer of Dylan, emailed me earlier this morning that I had to hear his acceptance speech from last night I scoured the net for reporting on the event and hopefully a recording of his speech but the best I could find thus far is the following transcript reported by the L.A. Times

After being introduced by national treasure and everything Ronald Reagan was not, President Jimmy Carter, Dylan took the podium and delivered the following:

I'm glad for my songs to be honored like this. But you know, they didn't get here by themselves. It's

been a long road and it's taken a lot of doing. These songs of mine, they're like mystery stories, the

kind that Shakespeare saw when he was growing up. I think you could trace what I do back that

far. They were on the fringes then, and I think they're on the fringes now. And they sound like

they've been on the hard ground.

I should mention a few people along the way who brought this about. I know I should mention

John Hammond, great talent scout for Columbia Records. He signed me to that label when I was

nobody. It took a lot of faith to do that, and he took a lot of ridicule, but he was his own man and

he was courageous. And for that, I'm eternally grateful. The last person he discovered before me

was Aretha Franklin, and before that Count Basie, Billie Holiday and a whole lot of other artists.

All noncommercial artists.  Trends did not interest  John, and I was very noncommercial but he stayed with me. He believed in my talent and that's all that mattered. I can't thank him enough for that.

Lou Levy runs Leeds Music, and they published my earliest songs, but I didn't stay there too long.

Levy himself, he went back a long ways. He signed me to that company and recorded my songs

and I sang them into a tape recorder. He told me outright, there was no precedent for what I was

doing, that I was either before my time or behind it. And if I brought him a song like "Stardust,"

he'd turn it down because it would be too late.  He told me that if I was before my time ­­ and he didn't really know that for sure ­­ but if it was happening and if it was true, the public would usually take three to five years to catch up ­­ so be prepared. And that did happen. The trouble was, when the public did catch up I was already three to five years beyond that, so it kind of complicated it. But he was encouraging, and he didn't judge me, and I'll always remember him for that.

Artie Mogull at Witmark Music signed me next to his company, and he told me to just keep

writing songs no matter what, that I might be on to something. Well, he too stood behind me, and

he could never wait to see what I'd give him next. I didn't even think of myself as a songwriter

before then. I'll always be grateful for him also for that attitude.

I also have to mention some of the early artists who recorded my songs very, very early, without

having to be asked. Just something they felt about them that was right for them. I've got to say

thank you to Peter, Paul and Mary, who I knew all separately before they ever became a group. I

didn't even think of myself as writing songs for others to sing but it was starting to happen and it

couldn't have happened to, or with, a better group.

They took a song of mine that had been recorded before that was buried on one of my records and

turned it into a hit song. Not the way I would have done it ­­ they straightened it out. But since

then hundreds of people have recorded it and I don't think that would have happened if it wasn't

for them. They definitely started something for me.

The Byrds, the Turtles, Sonny & Cher ­­ they made some of my songs Top 10 hits but I wasn't a

pop songwriter and I really didn't want to be that, but it was good that it happened. Their versions

of songs were like commercials, but I didn't really mind that because 50 years later my songs were

being used in the commercials. So that was good too. I was glad it happened, and I was glad

they'd done it.

Pervis Staples and the Staple Singers ­­ long before they were on Stax they were on Epic and they

were one of my favorite groups of all time. I met them all in '62 or '63. They heard my songs live

and Pervis wanted to record three or four of them and he did with the Staples Singers. They were

the type of artists that I wanted recording my songs.

Nina Simone. I used to cross paths with her in New York City in the Village Gate nightclub. These

were the artists I looked up to. She recorded some of my songs that she [inaudible] to me. She was

an overwhelming artist, piano player and singer.  Very strong woman, very outspoken. That she

was recording my songs validated everything that I was about.

Oh, and can't forget Jimi Hendrix. I actually saw Jimi Hendrix perform when he was in a band

called Jimmy James and the Blue Flames ­­ something like that. And Jimi didn't even sing. He

was just the guitar player. He took some small songs of mine that nobody paid any attention to

and pumped them up into the outer limits of the stratosphere and turned them all into classics. I

have to thank Jimi, too. I wish he was here.

Johnny Cash recorded some of my songs early on, too, up in about '63, when he was all skin and

bones. He traveled long, he traveled hard, but he was a hero of mine. I heard many of his songs

growing up. I knew them better than I knew my own. "Big River," "I Walk the Line."

"How high's the water, Mama?" I wrote "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)" with that song

reverberating inside my head. I still ask, "How high is the water, mama?" Johnny was an intense

character. And he saw that people were putting me down playing electric music, and he posted

letters to magazines scolding people, telling them to shut up and let him sing.

In Johnny Cash's world ­ hardcore Southern drama ­­ that kind of thing didn't exist. Nobody

told anybody what to sing or what not to sing. They just didn't do that kind of thing. I'm always

going to thank him for that. Johnny Cash was a giant of a man, the man in black. And I'll always

cherish the friendship we had until the day there is no more days.

Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Joan Baez. She was the queen of folk music then and

now. She took a liking to my songs and brought me with her to play concerts, where she had

crowds of thousands of people enthralled with her beauty and voice. People would say, "What are you doing with that ragtag scrubby little waif?" And she'd tell everybody in no uncertain terms, "Now you better be quiet and listen to the songs." We even played a few of them together. Joan Baez is as tough­minded as they come. Love. And she's a free, independent spirit. Nobody can tell her what to do if she doesn't want to do it. I learned a lot of things from her. A woman with devastating honesty. And for her kind of love and devotion, I could never pay that back.  

These songs didn't come out of thin air. I didn't just make them up out of whole cloth. Contrary to what Lou Levy said, there was a precedent. It all came out of traditional music: traditional folk music, traditional rock 'n' roll and traditional big­ band swing orchestra music. I learned lyrics and how to write them from listening to folk songs. And I played them, and I met other people that played them back when nobody was doing it. Sang nothing but these folk songs, and they gave me the code for everything that's fair game, that everything belongs to everyone.

For three or four years all I listened to were folk standards. I went to sleep singing folk songs. I

sang them everywhere, clubs, parties, bars, coffeehouses, fields, festivals. And I met other singers

along the way who did the same thing and we just learned songs from each other. I could learn

one song and sing it next in an hour if I'd heard it just once.

If you sang "John Henry" as many times as me ­­

 "John Henry was a steel­driving man /

Died with a hammer in his hand /

John Henry said a man ain't nothin' but a man /

Before I let that steam drill drive me down /

I'll die with that hammer in my hand."

If you had sung that song as many times as I did, you'd have written "How many roads must a

man walk down?" too.

Big Bill Broonzy had a song called "Key to the Highway."

"I've got a key to the highway /

 I'm booked and I'm bound to go /

Gonna leave here runnin' because

walking is most too slow."

I sang that a lot. If you sing that a lot, you just might write,

Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose

Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes

He asked poor Howard where can I go

Howard said there’s only one place I know

Sam said tell me quick man I got to run

Howard just pointed with his gun

And said that way down on Highway 61

You'd have written that too if you'd sang "Key to the Highway" as much as me.

"Ain't no use sit 'n cry / You'll be an angel by and by / Sail away, ladies, sail away." "I'm sailing

away my own true love." "Boots of Spanish Leather" ­­ Sheryl Crow just sung that.

"Roll the cotton down, aw, yeah, roll the cotton down /

Ten dollars a day is a white man's pay /

 A dollar a day is the black man's pay never pay that back./

 Roll the cotton down."

If you sang that song as many times as me, you'd be writing "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more," too.

I sang a lot of "come all you" songs. There's plenty of them. There's way too many to be counted.

"Come along boys and listen to my tale /

Tell you of my trouble on the old Chisholm Trail."

 Or,

"Come all ye good people, listen while I tell /

the fate of Floyd Collins a lad we all know well /

 The fate of Floyd Collins, a lad we all know well."

"Come all ye fair and tender ladies /

Take warning how you court your men /

They're like a star ona summer morning /

They first appear and then they're gone again."

 "If you'll gather 'round, people /

 A story I will tell /

'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw /

Oklahoma knew him well."

If you sung all these "come all ye" songs all the time, you'd be writing,

 "Come gather 'round people where ever you roam, admit that the waters around you have grown /

Accept that soon you'll be drenched to the bone /

 If your time to you is worth saving /

And you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone /

 The times they are a­changing."

You'd have written them too. There's nothing secret about it. You just do it subliminally and

unconsciously, because that's all enough, and that's all I sang. That was all that was dear to me.

They were the only kinds of songs that made sense.

"When you go down to Deep Ellum keep your money in your socks /

Women in Deep Ellum put you on the rocks."

Sing that song for a while and you just might come up with,

"When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter time too /

And your gravity fails and negativity don't pull you through /

 Don’t put on any airs /

When you’re down on Rue Morgue Avenue /

They got some hungry women there /

And they really make a mess outta you."

All these songs are connected. Don't be fooled. I just opened up a different door in a different kind

of way. It's just different, saying the same thing. I didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary.

Well you know, I just thought I was doing something natural, but right from the start, my songs

were divisive for some reason. They divided people. I never knew why. Some got angered, others

loved them. Didn't know why my songs had detractors and supporters. A strange environment to

have to throw your songs into, but I did it anyway.

Last thing I thought of was who cared about what song I was writing. I was just writing them. I

didn't think I was doing anything different. I thought I was just extending the line. Maybe a little

bit unruly, but I was just elaborating on situations. Maybe hard to pin down, but so what? A lot of

people are hard to pin down. You've just got to bear it. I didn't really care what Lieber and Stoller

thought of my songs.  They didn't like 'em, but Doc Pomus did. That was all right that they didn't likThese songs didn't come out of thin air. I didn't just make 'em, because I never liked their songs either. "Yakety yak, don't talk back." "Charlie Brown is a clown," "Baby I'm a hog for you." Novelty songs. They weren't saying anything serious.

Doc's songs, they were better. "This Magic Moment." "Lonely Avenue." Save the Last Dance for Me.

Those songs broke my heart. I figured I'd rather have his blessings any day than theirs.

Ahmet Ertegun didn't think much of my songs, but Sam Phillips did. Ahmet founded Atlantic

Records. He produced some great records: Ray Charles, Ray Brown, just to name a few.

There were some great records in there, no question about it. But Sam Phillips, he recorded Elvis

and Jerry Lee, Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash. Radical eyes that shook the very essence of

humanity.   Revolution in style and scope.  Heavy in shape and color.  Radical to the bone. Songs that

cut you to the bone. Renegades in all degrees, doing songs that would never decay, and still resound to this day. Oh, yeah, I'd rather have Sam Phillips' blessing any day.

Merle Haggard didn't even think much of my songs. I know he didn't. He didn't say that to me,

but I know [inaudible]. Buck Owens did, and he recorded some of my early songs.

Merle Haggard ­­ "Mama Tried," "The Bottle Let Me Down," "I'm a Lonesome Fugitive." I can't imagine Waylon Jennings singing "The Bottle Let Me Down."

"Together Again"? That's Buck Owens, and that trumps anything coming out of Bakersfield. Buck

Owens and Merle Haggard?  If you have to have somebody's blessing ­­ you figure it out.

Oh, yeah. Critics have been giving me a hard time since Day One. Critics say I can't sing. I croak.

Sound like a frog. Why don't critics say that same thing about Tom Waits? Critics say my voice is

shot. That I have no voice. What don't they say those things about Leonard Cohen? Why do I get

special treatment? Critics say I can't carry a tune and I talk my way through a song. Really? I've

never heard that said about Lou Reed. Why does he get to go scot­free? What have I done to deserve this special attention? No vocal range? When's the last time you heard Dr. John? Why don't you say that about him? Slur my words, got no diction. Have you people ever listened to Charley Patton or Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters. Talk about slurred words and no diction. [Inaudible] doesn't even matter. "Why me, Lord?" I would say that to myself.  

Critics say I mangle my melodies, render my songs unrecognizable. Oh, really? Let me tell you something. I was at a boxing match a few years ago seeing Floyd Mayweather fight a Puerto Rican guy. And the Puerto Rican national anthem, somebody sang it and it was beautiful. It was heartfelt and it was moving.  After that it was time for our national anthem. And a very popular soul­singing sister was chosen to sing. She sang every note ­­ that exists, and some that don't exist. Talk about mangling a melody. You take a one­syllable word and make it last for 15 minutes? She was doing vocal gymnastics like she was on a trapeze act. But to me it was not funny.  Where were the critics? Mangling lyrics? Mangling a melody? Mangling a treasured song? No, I get the blame. But I don't really think I do that. I just think critics say I do.

Sam Cooke said this when told he had a beautiful voice: He said, "Well that's very kind of you, but

voices ought not to be measured by how pretty they are. Instead they matter only if they convince

you that they are telling the truth."   Think about that the next time you [inaudible].

Times always change. They really do. And you have to always be ready for something that's coming

along and you never expected it. Way back when, I was in Nashville making some records and I

read this article, a Tom T. Hall interview. Tom T. Hall, he was bitching about some kind of new

song, and he couldn't understand what these new kinds of songs that were coming in were about.

Now Tom, he was one of the most preeminent songwriters of the time in Nashville. A lot of people

were recording his songs and he himself even did it. But he was all in a fuss about James Taylor, a

song James had called "Country Road." Tom was going off in this interview ­­ "But James don't

say nothing about a country road. He's just says how you can feel it on the country road. I don't

understand that."

Now some might say Tom is a great songwriter. I'm not going to doubt that. At the time he was

doing this interview I was actually listening to a song of his on the radio.  It was called "I Love." I was listening to it in a recording studio, and he was talking about all the

things he loves, an everyman kind of song, trying to connect with people. Trying to make you think

that he's just like you and you're just like him. We all love the same things, and we're all in this

together. Tom loves little baby ducks, slow­moving trains and rain. He loves old pickup trucks and

little country streams. Sleeping without dreams. Bourbon in a glass. Coffee in a cup. Tomatoes on

the vine, and onions.  Now listen, I'm not ever going to disparage another songwriter. I'm not going to do that.  I'm not saying it's a bad song. I'm just saying it might be a little overcooked. But, you know, it was in the top 10 anyway. Tom and a few other writers had the whole Nashville scene sewed up in a box. If  you wanted to record a song and get it in the top 10 you had to go to them, and Tom was one of the top guys. They were all very comfortable, doing their thing.  This was about the time that Willie Nelson picked up and moved to Texas. About the same time.  He's still in Texas. Everything was very copacetic. Everything was all right until ­­ until ­­Kristofferson came to town. Oh, they ain't seen anybody like him. He came into town like a wildcat, flew his helicopter into Johnny Cash's backyard like a typical songwriter. And he went for the throat.

"Sunday Morning Coming Down."Well, I woke up Sunday morning With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.   And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad So I had one more for dessert Then I fumbled through my closet Found my cleanest dirty shirt Then I washed my face and combed my hair

And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.”

You can look at Nashville pre-­Kris and post-­Kris, because he changed everything. That one song

ruined Tom T. Hall's poker parties. It might have sent him to the crazy house. God forbid he ever

heard any of my songs.  You walk into the room With your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked You say, “Who is that man?” You try so hard But you don’t understand Just what you're gonna say When you get home You know something is happening here But you don’t know what it is  Do you, Mister Jones?

If "Sunday Morning Coming Down" rattled Tom's cage, sent him into the looney bin, my song

surely would have made him blow his brains out, right there in the minivan. Hopefully he didn'hear it.  

I just released an album of standards, all the songs usually done by Michael Buble, Harry Connick

Jr., maybe Brian Wilson's done a couple, Linda Ronstadt done 'em. But the reviews of their

records are different than the reviews of my record.  In their reviews no one says anything. In my reviews, [inaudible] they've got to look under every stone when it comes to me. They've got to mention all the songwriters' names. Well that's OK with me. After all, they're great songwriters and these are standards. I've seen the reviews come in, and they'll mention all the songwriters in half the review, as if everybody knows them. Nobody's heard of them, not in this time, anyway. Buddy Kaye, Cy Coleman, Carolyn Leigh, to name a few.  But, you know, I'm glad they mention their names, and you know what? I'm glad they got their names in the press. It might have taken some time to do it, but they're finally there. I can only wonder why it took so long. My only regret is that they're not here to see it.

Traditional rock 'n' roll, we're talking about that. It's all about rhythm. Johnny Cash said it best:

"Get rhythm. Get rhythm when you get the blues." Very few rock 'n' roll bands today play with

rhythm. They don't know what it is. Rock 'n' roll is a combination of blues, and it's a strange thing

made up of two parts. A lot of people don't know this, but the blues, which is an American music,

is not what you think it is. It's a combination of Arabic violins and Strauss waltzes working it out.

But it's true.  The other half of rock 'n' roll has got to be hillbilly. And that's a derogatory term, but it ought not to be. That's a term that includes the Delmore Bros., Stanley Bros., Roscoe Holcomb, Clarence Ashley ... groups like that. Moonshiners gone berserk.  Fast cars on dirt roads. That's the kind of combination that makes up rock 'n' roll, and it can't be cooked up in a science laboratory or a

studio.  You have to have the right kind of rhythm to play this kind of music. If you can't hardly play the blues, how do you [inaudible] those other two kinds of music in there? You can fake it, but you

can't really do it.

Critics have made a career out of accusing me of having a career of confounding expectations.

Really? Because that's all I do. That's how I think about it. Confounding expectations.

"What do you do for a living, man?" "Oh, I confound expectations."  You're going to get a job, the man says, "What do you do?" "Oh, confound expectations.: And the man says, "Well, we already have that spot filled. Call us back. Or don't call us, we'll call you."Confounding expectations. What does that mean? 'Why me, Lord? I'd confound them, but I don't know how to do it.'

The Blackwood Bros. have been talking to me about making a record together. That might

confound expectations, but it shouldn't. Of course it would be a gospel album. I don't think it

would be anything out of the ordinary for me. Not a bit. One of the songs I'm thinking about

singing is "Stand By Me" by the Blackwood Brothers.  Not "Stand By Me" the pop song. No. The

real "Stand By Me."  The real one goes like this:

When the storm of life is raging /

Stand by me /

When the storm of life is raging /

Stand by me /

When the world is tossing me /

Like a ship upon the sea /

Thou who rulest wind and water /

Stand by me

In the midst of tribulation /

Stand by me /

In the midst of tribulation /

Stand by me /

When the hosts of hell assail /

And my strength begins to fail /

Thou who never lost a battle /

Stand by me

In the midst of faults and failures /

Stand by me /

In the midst of faults and failures /

Stand by me /

When I do the best I can /

And my friends don't understand /

Thou who knowest all about me /

Stand by me

That's the song. I like it better than the pop song. If I record one by that name, that's going to be

the one. I'm also thinking of recording a song, not on that album, though: "Oh Lord, Please Don't

Let Me Be Misunderstood."

Anyway, why me, Lord. What did I do?  Anyway, I'm proud to be here tonight for MusiCares. I'm honored to have all these artists singing my songs. There's nothing like that. Great artists. [applause, inaudible]. They're all singing the truth, and you can hear it in their voices. I'm proud to be here tonight for MusiCares. I think a lot of this organization. They've helped many people. Many musicians who have contributed a lot to our culture. 

I'd like to personally thank them for what they did for a friend of mine, Billy Lee Riley. A friend of mine who they helped for six years when he was down and couldn't work. Billy was a son of rock 'n' roll, obviously.  He was a true original. He did it all: He played, he sang, he wrote. He would have been a bigger star but Jerry Lee came along. And you know what happens when someone like that comes along.  You just don't stand a chance.  So Billy became what is known in the industry ­­ a condescending term, by the way ­as a one-­hit wonder. But sometimes, just sometimes, once in a while, a one-­hit wonder can make a more powerful impact than a recording star who's got 20 or 30 hits behind him. And Billy's hit song was called "Red Hot," and it was red hot. It could blast you out of your skull and make you feel happy about it. Change your life.  He did it with style and grace. 

You won't find him in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He's not there. Metallica is. Abba is. Mamas and the Papas ­­ I know they're in there. Jefferson Airplane, Alice Cooper, Steely Dan ­­ I've got nothing against them. Soft rock, hard rock, psychedelic pop. I got nothing against any of that stuff, but after all, it is called the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Billy Lee Riley is not there. 

Yet I'd see him a couple times a year and we'd always spent time together and he was on a rockabilly festival nostalgia circuit, and we'd cross paths now and again. We'd always spend time together.  He was a hero of mine. I'd heard "Red Hot." I must have been only 15 or 16 when I did and it's impressed me to this day.  I never grow tired of listening to it. Never got tired of watching Billy Lee perform, either. We spent time together just talking and playing into the night. He was a deep, truthful man. He wasn't bitter or nostalgic. He just accepted it. He knew where he had come from and he was content with who he was.  And then one day he got sick. And like my friend John Mellencamp would sing ­­ because John sang some truth today ­­ one day you get sick and you don't get better. That's from a song of his called "Life is Short Even on Its Longest Days." It's one of the better songs of the last few years, actually. I ain't lying.  And I ain't lying when I tell you that MusiCares paid for my friend's doctor bills, and helped him to get spending money. They were able to at least make his life comfortable, tolerable to the end. That is something that can't be repaid. Any  organization that would do that would have to have my blessing.

I'm going to get out of here now. I'm going to put an egg in my shoe and beat it. I probably left out

a lot of people and said too much about some. But that's OK. Like the spiritual song, 'I'm still just

crossing over Jordan too.' Let's hope we meet again. Sometime. And we will, if, like Hank Williams

said, "the good Lord willing and the creek don't rise."