Showing posts with label Mother Jones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother Jones. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Utah Phillips -- Making Speech Free; Various Artists -- Long Gone: Utah Remembers Bruce “Utah” Phillips

Utah Phillips and Mike Regenstreif (2005)
Bruce “Utah” Phillips (1935-2008) and I were friends for a long time. I met him in 1971 when the Smithsonian Institution held a series of folk music concerts in Montreal at the American Pavilion at Man and His World, the remnant of Expo ’67, and they engaged Bruce to MC the series for a couple of weeks. I was a 17-year-old folk music enthusiast anxious to soak up whatever I could and he took a liking to me that blossomed into friendship and our working together often.

In 1972, when I started my first concert series at Dawson College in Montreal, I tracked Bruce down and invited him to perform a concert.

“I’ll do it on one condition,” he told me over the phone from San Francisco. “That Malvina Reynolds comes with me and it’s a double bill.”

That’s how I got to produce the only concert the great folk songwriter Malvina Reynolds ever did in Montreal.

I went on to produce many concerts with Bruce in various halls and at the Golem, the Montreal folk club I ran in the ‘70s and ‘80s. Some were solo concerts and some were double bills with Rosalie Sorrels.

I hung out with him a lot over the years in Montreal, of course, and at the Philo studio in Vermont where he had a caboose, in Saratoga Springs, and a bunch of other places. I once spent a week driving him and Rosalie around New England, New York State and finally up to Montreal when Bruce was running for president of the United States on the Sloth and Indolence ticket.

And I got an education-and-a-half walking around skid rows with Bruce in Montreal, Boston and Vancouver as he picked up stories from the folks there.

In the ‘90s, Bruce developed congenital heart failure and wasn’t able to travel much anymore. Chances to spend time with him became rare occasions. Our last time together was in 2005 when he performed and I MCed at the Champlain Valley Folk Festival in Vermont. We recorded a great radio interview and his participation was a highlight of the annual songwriters’ workshop I ran at the festival for many years.

These two albums, a live set of Bruce recorded in 1999, when his performances had become relatively rare due to his congenital heart failure, and a tribute album, organized by his son Duncan, by folk music artists from Utah, have triggered a lot of fine memories of time spent in Bruce’s company and watching and listening to him perform.

UTAH PHILLIPS
Making Speech Free
PM Press/Free Dirt Records

Making Speech Free documents a 74-minute live concert set that Bruce gave as part of a free speech teach-in in San Francisco in 1999. Although much of the set seems tailored to the theme of the teach-in, the songs and spoken word pieces were quite typical of the sets he was doing in the later years of his career. I suppose any Utah Phillips set could be seen as a free speech teach-in.

A good half of the performance was devoted to Bruce’s spoken stories about the labour movement, in particular to the I.W.W. – the Industrial Workers of the World or Wobblies – and labour heroes like Joe Hill and Mother Jones, and about the brand of anarchy that Bruce picked up decades ago from Ammon Hennacy: “An anarchist is anyone who doesn’t need a cop to tell him what to do.”

As with any performance Bruce ever did there are moments of great hilarity that may mask the fact that they are also carefully-planned history lessons. The songs, mostly, are labour songs, or songs of social conscience, gathered from Joe Hill, Woody Guthrie, Maurice Sugar and James Oppenheim.

VARIOUS ARTISTS
Long Gone: Utah Remembers Bruce “Utah” Phillips
Waterbug Records

This tribute featuring various folksingers based in or around the state of Utah was organized by Duncan Phillips, Bruce’s oldest son. I remember hearing Bruce talk about Duncan when he introduced the song, “Daddy, What a Train?” a song written for him. It was 40 years ago when I first heard those intros to that song.

With three exceptions – Kate MacLeod, who also produced the CD, Anke Summerhill and Hal Cannon, who told me in an e-mail exchange some time ago that he took guitar lessons from Bruce and Rosalie – I wasn’t previously familiar with most of the Utah-based artists who contributed to the album. But I sure know the songs. Most of them date back to Bruce’s early years and include such gems as “Eddy’s Song,” sung by Paul Rasmussen, a tribute to Eddy Balchowski, a concert pianist who lost an arm as a member of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade in the Spanish Civil War; “The Telling Takes Me Home,” a lament for the dying west, sung by Dave Eskelsen; and “Jesse’s Corrido,” a powerful song written in protest of a death sentence handed to a Hispanic young man in Utah for a prison murder, sung by Gentri Watson.

Among my favourite tracks is certainly Kate MacLeod’s version of “Nevada Jane,” a song Bruce wrote about the deep love Wobbly organizer Big Bill Haywood had for his wife. Bruce based the tune for “Nevada Jane” on the version of Stephen Foster’s “Gentle Annie” that Kate McGarrigle used to sing. I hear something of Kate McGarrigle’s singing in the way Kate MacLeod sings the song.

Another favourite is Duncan Phillips’ own song, “Long Gone,” a tribute to his father that doesn’t shy away from the long years that father and son spent searching for a way to find each other.

All in all, Long Gone: Utah Remembers Bruce "Utah" Phillips is a worthy tribute from a folk music community inspired by one of its greatest. By the way, these songs were recorded using the big old Guild guitar that Bruce played on stage for almost his entire career. He's holding that guitar in the picture of the two of us at the Champlain Valley Folk Festival in 2005.

Here is a link to my review of Singing Through the Hard Times, an earlier tribute to Bruce “Utah” Phillips.

--Mike Regenstreif

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Tom Russell -- Blood and Candle Smoke


TOM RUSSELL
Blood and Candle Smoke
Shout! Factory
tomrussell.com

OK, I know I’ve said it before –- like in the essay I wrote last year for The Tom Russell Anthology: Veteran’s Day booklet -- but it bears repeating: I think Tom Russell is the finest singer-songwriter of my generation; the generation 10 to 15 years younger than Bob Dylan, that walked in his footsteps through the streets of Greenwich Village, that went back and listened to the same music from old weird America that he listened to, and that went to the University of Staying-up-all-night-on-Dave-Van-Ronk’s-couch. I’ve thought that about Tom Russell for the better part of 25 years and I’m as convinced of that now, as I keep listening to Blood and Candle Smoke, a state-of-the-art album, as I’ve ever been.

From the dawn of his career, Tom has always delivered a set of superbly-crafted songs on each of his albums. On many of them, he’s also delivered carefully constructed arrangements that color the songs beautifully. In terms of the songwriting craftsmanship, these 12 songs stand with Tom’s best while the arrangements –- featuring backing from members of Calexico and several others, including the sublime harmonies of Gretchen Peters -– and production values take his studio work to their highest heights yet.

In 1969, the Vietnam War raged on, Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon, and half a million people showed up for a three-day music festival in the Catskills. While all that was going on, the young Tom Russell, armed with his newly-minted degree in criminology, went on a teaching assignment in Nigeria. That sets the scene for the Calexico rhythms and mariachi trumpet that pulls us into this album and never lets go as we hear Tom remember those days in a hard place “East of Woodstock, West of Vietnam.

Other killer songs tell us about the Santa Ana winds, those hot, dry winds that set the golden mansions of paradise on fire every year, or about what it’s like to stare down the barrel of a gun in desperate places ranging from African warzones to depressing lumber camp bars in Canada.

The song “Nina Simone” references the great blues-jazz-folk singer but it’s not about Nina Simone per se. It’s about finding what you need in a voice that understands. Maybe for Tom in a bar in San Cristóbal, it was the voice of Nina Simone on the juke box. I know I’ve heard Nina Simone cut through to my soul when she sings about being “lost in the rain in Juarez” in a way I think Dylan would appreciate. Sometimes my “Nina Simones” have been Rosalie Sorrels or Billie Holiday or a dozen other singers who understand.

And “The Most Dangerous Woman in America” isn’t just about Mother Jones, the great labor organizer. It’s also about the sons or grandsons or great-grandsons of the miners she organized a century ago who still live marginal lives that can lead them into violence.

“Guadalupe” is one of those very rare songs that that reveals new layers of understanding with every hearing. I’m not necessarily talking about new layers of understanding of what Tom may have been getting at about himself when he wrote it. I’m talking about we, the listeners, hearing and understanding our own truths and about our own quests through the filter of Tom’s words. There are some Leonard Cohen songs that work like that.

In my essay for The Tom Russell Anthology: Veteran’s Day booklet I talked about some of the songs Tom’s written over the years about the ending of love relationships and predicted at the end that, with Tom having found a new bride, we’d hear a different kind of love song from him. The beautiful “Finding You,” written for Nadine, fulfills that prediction.

Sonically, it’s easy just to get caught up in the southwestern creativity of these arrangements. Every note played by every musician adds something to the magic of Blood and Candle Smoke. But still, for me, a Tom Russell album comes back to the songs – and like I can’t stop saying, I think he’s the finest singer-songwriter of my generation.

Blood and Candle Smoke will be released on September 15.

--Mike Regenstreif