There is a big protest right now at the White House on climate change. I am painfully and gratefully aware that, in my country, I have the right of peaceful assembly and freedom of speech. In my country, were I to join the protest, the police would protect me – not shoot me. This hymn is from my country’s revolution that was fought to create and enshrine these rights in law. I am filled with thoughts of Ukraine today.
Joyful
Salubrious Saturday: “Mountain Dew,” The Stanley Brothers
StandardIf I had to pick just one style of music to listen for the rest of my life, bluegrass would make the short list, and the Stanley Brothers would definitely be one of the groups I’d pick. I particularly love this song a) because the lyrics are a riot (below), and Ralph’s voice is so smooth.
Ralph and Carter Stanley were born in the Clinch Mountains of Virginia in the 1920s (if the name Clinch Mountains means anything to you like it did to me, it’s probably because there’s a bluegrass song called Clinch Mountain Backstep that the the Holy Modal Rounders covered. But I digress.). They were a pretty popular bluegrass group for their time up to Carter’s death in 1966. Ralph continued to play and got a prominent spot in the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack. You know that a cappella song, “O Death?” That, my friend, is Ralph Carter. He won a Grammy for that song – Best Male Country Performance – in 2002, and, I’m happy to report, is still picking his banjo today.
—
Down the road here from me there’s an old holler tree
Where you lay down a dollar or two.
Go on around the bend, when you come back again,
There’s a jug full of that good old mountain dew
They call it that good old mountan dew,
And them that refuse it are few.
I’ll hush up my mug if you’ll fill up my jug
With that good old mountain dew.
Now Mr. [Franklin] Roosevelt told ’em just how he felt
When he heard that the dry law’d gone through:
If your liquor’s too red, it will swell up your head.
Better stick to that good old mountain dew
They call it that good old mountan dew,
And them that refuse it are few.
I’ll hush up my mug if you’ll fill up my jug
With that good old mountain dew.
The preacher rode by with head high, stood high,
Said that his wife had been down with the flu
He thought that I ought to sell him a quart
Of my good old mountain dew.
They call it that good old mountan dew,
And them that refuse it are few.
I’ll hush up my mug if you’ll fill up my jug
With that good old mountain dew.
Well my uncle Snort, he is sawed off and short,
He measures four feet two,
But he thinks he’s a giant when you give him a pint
Of that good old mountain dew.
They call it that good old mountan dew,
And them that refuse it are few.
I’ll hush up my mug if you’ll fill up my jug
With that good old mountain dew.
Throwback Thursday: “Prelude and Fugue No. 3 in C-sharp Major,” J.S. Bach
StandardThese two pieces together sound like three friends going on a road trip. The Prelude is all of them excitedly discussing where they want to go. Some voices are heard more than others at which point they start getting into a minor (ha ha…hm) disagreements that are quickly resolved amicably. The Fugue is the trip itself. Friend One gets in his car and drives to Friend Two’s house, picks up Friend Two at 1:10, then they pick up Friend Three (who’s gone and gotten them all coffee) at 1:15. These friends then tootle on their way. There’s a bit of backseat driving after they take a wrong turn (1:34), but they finally get to their destination (2:27) and happily natter on about how great it is for a while until it gets dark (2:47) and they turn for home.
At least, that’s what it sounds like to me.
Modernism Monday: “Don’t Fence Me In,” David Byrne
StandardI love good cover songs. I love them. When they’re done well, they’re really a stroke of genius – they take the song to an entirely new level. This is such an example. What was a melodic but fairly hum-drum song about and sung by (sorry, I have to say it) a white guy becomes a global human rights anthem, an immigration song, a manifesto about personal freedom, and all the good and bad parts of America and its history, sung to a world beat rhythm by men and women of every color and background you could cram into three minutes. It’s magnificent and it supercharges my social justice batteries when I need it, which, let’s face it, is pretty frequently.
Sacred Sunday: “Izithembiso Zenkosi,” Ladysmith Black Mambazo
StandardIn case you aren’t familiar with them, Ladysmith Black Mambazo is a ten-man acapella group from Durban, South Africa. The name is a composite of three things: Ladysmith is the name of founder Joseph Shabalala’s hometown; Black refers to oxen; and Mambazo is the Zulu word for axe, which Shabalala chose to imply his group’s ability to “chop down” its singing rivals. A well-chosen name, as the group has been singing for fifty years.
The group definitely sings about the Christian gospel, but Shabalala has said that he wants to make music that appeals across the religious spectrum. “Without hearing the lyrics, this music gets into the blood, because it comes from the blood,” he says. “It evokes enthusiasm and excitement, regardless of what you follow spiritually.” This makes me very happy. This is my absolute favorite Ladysmith Black Mambazo song. I love the rolling rhythm and the repetitive melody is very meditative while still being lively and uptempo.
Ladysmith Black Mambazo sounds like my childhood. I grew up listening to my Mom’s cassette tapes, playing in one half of the basement while she refinished some antique piece of furniture in the other half. Ladysmith Black Mambazo also sounds like springtime, and today is our last hit of warmth before the polar vortex closes in on us again. Put this on and throw open all the windows.
Salubrious Saturday: “Living in Colour,” Frightened Rabbit
StandardAch, the Scots are the greatest. Frightened Rabbit is an indie rock band from Selkirk, Scotland, but based mainly these days in Glasgow. (My sources tell me that the name of the band came from the lead singer’s mother, who called him a frightened rabbit when he was a kid because he was so shy. I know.) It’s so hard to pick a song from them to highlight, but this song fits my mentality the best. This past week was pretty tops, for a whole variety of reasons, and the week sounded like this song: fast-paced, joyous, with shifting tectonic plates producing new, exciting formations. And now it’s Saturday! Hooray, weekend!
Modernism Monday: “Wind From The South,” The Gertrudes
StandardThis respite from that wretched “polar vortex” gag has me dreaming of spring already, so of course The Gertrudes popped into my head. This is such a chipper, happy song. It’s also a great driving song, and, as your Yankette got home from a super fun road trip late last night, it’s vaguely apropos. And, because I got home from a super fun road trip late last night, this is a very short post, so I apologize I’m not more verbose, Tune-Up fans. I promise I’ll be extra wordy on Tuesday. Happy Monday!
Modernism Monday: “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” John Rosamond Johnson, with words by James Weldon Johnson
StandardToday we mark the life of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., so I thought it appropriate to focus on this piece. “Lift Every Voice and Sing” has come to be known as the Black National Anthem. The words come from a poem written by James Weldon Johnson in 1899, a pioneer in the civil rights movement and an early leader in the NAACP. Johnson wrote the poem as an introduction to Booker T. Washington at an event celebrating Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. Johnson’s brother, John, set the poem to music in 1905. The words are monumentally powerful and the melody is gorgeous, which is why I include two versions here. The first one, above, is sung by Leontyne Price (music starts at 3:32) and adheres to the written melody and time signature. The second one, below, is sung by Ray Charles, and, well, doesn’t adhere to much, but is just so joyous.
Today is a good day to remember that our great Republic is an ever-evolving project which it is our duty, to each other and to those who came before us, to continually perfect. In the words of Dr. King, “We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”
Lyrics at the bottom, as per usual.
—
Lift every voice and sing, till earth and Heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise, high as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed.
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
Thou Who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou Who hast by Thy might, led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee.
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.
Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand,
True to our God, true to our native land.
Sacred Sunday: “Go Down, Moses,” Louis Armstrong
StandardA bit of a curveball today. It’s not the type of weekend for a serious choral work. It’s the type of weekend for a zippy, jazzy spiritual piece, and I for one have no qualms about calling anything Louis Armstrong did “sacred.” And you gotta love it when it gets all New Orleans at 2:42. So groovy. Happy Sunday!
Sacred Sunday: “Jauchzet, frohlocket,” J.S. Bach
StandardOh this is just the grooviest thing ever. Before I open up the fangirl floodgates: this is the opening chorus of the first cantata in Bach’s Christmas Oratorio. (I know, I know, it’s past Christmas.) This piece is just. So. Happy. The Monteverdi Choir is obviously of the very finest class, and the orchestra is superlative. But even more than that – holy crap, Gardiner. His direction is inspired. I will brook no dissent on the point that Sir John Eliot Gardiner is the finest conductor of this piece that ever lived. Watch his direction of the choir especially from 6:37 onwards. He sculpts the melody into a gorgeous arc of a phrase (which it already is but some choirs get a little too bogged down somehow) and then cues the basses – then the tenors! – then the altos! – then the sopranos! – until the choir is one unified, harmonious expression of joy. Even better than that is that you can tell the singers are responding to him and are having an absolute blast. I must have watched this thirty times and it never fails to make me laugh out loud with delight. I hope it has the same effect on you.
—
Jauchzet, frohlocket! auf, preiset die Tage,
Shout for joy, exult, rise up, glorify the day,
Rühmet, was heute der Höchste getan!
praise what today the highest has done!
Lasset das Zagen, verbannet die Klage,
Abandon hesitation, banish lamentation,
Stimmet voll Jauchzen und Fröhlichkeit an!
begin to sing with rejoicing and exaltation!
Dienet dem Höchsten mit herrlichen Chören,
Serve the highest with glorious choirs,
Laßt uns den Namen des Herrschers verehren!
let us honour the name of our ruler!
The Daily Tune-Up 