I think I bought Jackson Browne’s self-titled first album on an endorsement I read from David Crosby. It had several good songs on it but I never played it very much. Later I came across his second album, For Everyman, with the Eagles hit song “Take It Easy” listed as the first song on the album and a lot of good musicians listed in the credits on the back cover. So I bought it and discovered what is one of my all-time favorite albums. I still love to hear it. I still like the Eagles version of “Take It Easy” a little better, but there’s not much difference between it and Browne’s version except for the Eagles’ stunning first chord. Browne’s has a great electric guitar by David Lindley, a multi-instrumentalist who plays guitar on every song except one where he plays electric fiddle. Sneaky Pete Kleinow plays a wonderful pedal steel accompaniment.
. . . It’s a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford
Slowin’ down to have a look at me . . .
We may lose, and we may win
But we will never be here again
So open up, I’m climbin’ in
To take it easy
The song winds down with a slower beat and segues into “Our Lady of the Well” without stopping, as if they recorded it that way, which they may have. It’s a soothing ballad, an ode to people living a bucolic life with nice acoustic guitars by Lindley and Browne and Kleinow’s pedal steel background that’s more like a restrained violin. Words flow out of Browne like the Mississippi in the summer sun as if they naturally fit together with no effort to twist a line to rhyme. I have no idea how songwriters do that, but Browne and Steve Goodman do it best.
It is a dance we do in silence
Far below this morning sun
You in your life, me in mine
We have begun
Here we stand and without speaking
Draw the water from the well
And stare beyond the plains
To where the mountains lie so still
But it's a long way that I have come
Across the sand to find this peace among your people in the sun
Where the families work the land as they have always done
Oh it's so far the other way my country's gone
Across my home has grown the shadow
Of a cruel and senseless hand
Though in some strong hearts
The love and truth remain
And it has taken me this distance
And a woman's smile to learn
That my heart remains among them
And to them I must return
If you come to me Maria
I will show you what I’ve done
It’s a picture for our lady of the well
“I Thought I Was a Child” is a wonderful song with intriguing lyrics describing an encounter with a woman who changes the singer’s awareness and perception of himself. It has a gorgeous piano accompaniment by Bill Payne from Little Feat.
I thought I was a child
Until you turned and smiled
I thought I knew where I was going
Until I heard your laughter flowing
And came upon the wisdom in your eyes
Surprise
I’ve spent my whole life running round
Chasing songs from town to town
Thinking I’d be free so long
As I never let love slow me down
So lonely and so wild
Until you turned and smiled
By now I should have long been gone
But here I am still looking on
As if I didn’t know which way to run . . .
I thought that I was free
But I’m just one more prisoner of time
Alone within the boundaries of my mind
The last three lines are such an arresting image. Yes, he’s free, but “Alone within the boundaries of my mind” feels like a humbling bit of truth as well. “These Days” is such a powerful song, also expressing humbling truths that Browne expresses so poignantly. It has a deeply soulful slide guitar by David Lindley that penetrates straight to your heart.
. . . These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
For you
And all the times I had the chance to
Now if I seem to be afraid
To live the life I have made in song
Well it's just that I've been losing so long . . .
Don't confront me with my failures
I had not forgotten them
It captures regret and the fear of risk that are touchstones of human experience for many people. “Redneck Friend” is about risk as well, a speedy rocker with another great slide guitar by Lindley, but upbeat this time, in this case asking a young girl if she’s going to risk claiming her freedom. Well-known session drummer Jim Keltner provides a solid and energetic drumbeat.
. . . They’re teachin’ you how to walk
But you’re already on the run . . .
Little one, come on and take my hand
Well I may not have the answer
But I believe I got a plan
Honey you shake, I’ll rattle
And we can roll on down the line
See if we can’t get in touch
With a very close friend of mine . . .
It ain’t like him to argue or pretend
Honey let me introduce you
To my redneck friend
Well they got a little list of all the things
Of which they don’t approve
Well they gotta keep their eyes on you
You might make your move
Little one, I really wish you would
Little one, I think the damage’d do you good
“Ready or Not” tells a story about a man getting his live-in lover pregnant and both of them coming to terms with that. “The next thing I remember she was all moved in/And I was buyin’ her a washing machine” – what an image of everyday humanity that is!
. . . I punched that unemployed actor
Defending her dignity
He stood up and knocked me through that barroom door
And that girl came home with me
Now baby's feeling funny in the morning
She says she's got a lot on her mind
Nature didn't give her any warning
Now she's gonna have to leave her wild ways behind
She says she doesn't care if she never spends
Another night running loose on the town
She's gonna be a mother
Take a look in my eyes and tell me brother
If I look like I'm ready
“For Everyman” is the standout song on the album. The six-minute song segues seamlessly from “Sing My Songs to Me” with a somewhat muffled drum roll that catches your attention and heightens expectation. It chronicles the state of mind after the waning of flower power and the rise of the Watergate mess, with the hope of finding a better way of life. What Browne means by “waiting for Everyman” isn’t clear. According to Wikipedia, “The everyman is a stock character of fiction. An ordinary and humble character, the everyman is generally a protagonist whose benign conduct fosters the audience's identification with them.” My impression was that Browne’s waiting for Everyman was perhaps an expression of hope that his songs will touch on something universal in all of us, which most writers are trying to do.
Everybody I talk to is ready to leave
With the light of the morning
They've seen the end coming down long enough to believe
That they've heard their last warning
Standing alone, each has his own ticket in his hand
As the evening descends
I sit thinking about Everyman
Seems like I've always been looking for some other place
To get it together
Where with a few of my friends I could give up the race
And maybe find something better
But all my fine dreams
Well thought out schemes to gain the motherland
Have all eventually come down to waiting for Everyman
Waiting here for Everyman
Make it on your own if you think you can
If you see somewhere to go I understand
Waiting here for Everyman
Don't ask me if he'll show – baby I don't know
Make it on your own if you think you can
Somewhere later on you'll have to take a stand
Then you're going to need a hand
Everybody's just waiting to hear from the one
Who can give them the answer
And lead them back to that place in the warmth of the sun
Where sweet childhood still dances
Who'll come along
And hold out that strong and gentle father's hand? . . .
I'm not trying to tell you that I've seen the plan
Turn and walk away if you think I am
But don't think too badly of one who's left holding sand
He's just another dreamer, dreaming about Everyman
It’s not an optimistic view but one that’s ultimately hopeful. It’s a wonderful melody backed by Lindley’s mellow and expressive electric guitar and organ by Mike Utley. It expresses an outlook that always feels very comforting to me and embodies the way I’d like to approach life – skeptical and not naïve but hopeful. It ends with a quiet acoustic guitar leading into an extended drum roll that again stirs your blood, followed by a fadeout on electric guitar.
Browne’s followup album Late for the Sky is so good it’s hard to say whether it or For Everyman is better, although I play the latter more often. The title song describes the disintegration of a relationship with unsparing and realistic language. Browne’s songs about love always sound so personal, it’s hard to know how autobiographical they are. The song’s accompanied by David Lindley’s aching guitar that embodies the sadness of the song. There are so many good lines in the song. The poetry in “Looking hard into your eyes/There was nobody I'd ever known/Such an empty surprise to feel so alone” is deeply poignant and strikes your heart like an arrow. What a disorienting and unsettling shock that would be! I also love the lines ”You never knew what I loved in you/I don't know what you loved in me/Maybe the picture of somebody you were hoping I might be”. I suspect many of us fall in love with the person we hope our lover might be rather than seeing clearly who they are. His lyrics flow with such poetic grace. The last three lines describe how many people try to mold themselves into the person their lover wants instead of being true to themselves.
Now the words had all been spoken
And somehow the feeling still wasn't right
And still we continued on through the night
Tracing our steps from the beginning
Until they vanished into the air
Trying to understand how our lives has led us there
Looking hard into your eyes
There was nobody I'd ever known
Such an empty surprise to feel so alone . . .
You never knew what I loved in you
I don't know what you loved in me
Maybe the picture of somebody you were hoping I might be
Awake again I can't pretend and I know I'm alone
And close to the end of the feeling we've known
How long have I been sleeping
How long have I been drifting alone through the night
How long have I been dreaming I could make it right
If I closed my eyes and tried with all my might
To be the one you need
“Fountain of Sorrow” is the song on the album I most enjoy listening to, either Browne's version or Joan Baez's. Led by an infectious piano by Jai Winding and a pulsing drumbeat by Larry Zack, it’s an irresistible song with a quiet slowdown towards the end, only to come back strong to a rousing finish. I love listening to the rhythm of this song. “And while the future’s there for anyone to change/Still you know it seems/It would be easier sometimes to change the past” is a wonderful description of the tendency to remember our past the way we would like it to be rather than the way it was. The words flow as if they roll effortlessly out of his mind. His lines vary in length and meter but still seem to flow with an uncanny smoothness as if he thinks naturally in rhyme and rhythm.
Looking through some photographs I found inside a drawer
I was taken by a photograph of you
There were one or two I know that you
Would have liked a little more
But they didn’t show your spirit quite as true
You were turning round to see who was behind you
And I took your childish laughter by surprise
And at the moment that my camera happened to find you
There was just a trace of sorrow in your eyes
Now the things that I remember seem so distant and so small
Though it really hasn’t been that long a time
What I was seeing wasn’t what was happening at all
Although for a while our paths did seem to climb . . .
Now for you and me, it may not be that hard to reach our dreams
But that magic feeling never seems to last
And while the future’s there for anyone to change
Still you know it seems
It would be easier sometimes to change the past
I’m just one or two years and a couple of changes behind you
In my lessons at love's pain and heartache school
Where if you feel too free and you need something to remind you
There’s this loneliness springing up from your life
Like a fountain from a pool . . .
Fountain of sorrow, fountain of light
You’ve known that hollow sound of your own steps in flight
You’ve had to struggle, you’ve had to fight
To keep understanding and compassion in sight
You could be laughing at me, you’ve got the right
But you go on smiling, so clear and so bright
And it’s good to see your smiling face tonight
“For a Dancer” is a lovely song with unusual rhythm and meter changes and a wonderful melody. It sounds like an older person imparting wisdom and encouragement to someone he loved but lost. Browne was only 25 years old at the time, but his lyrics on these early albums seem to contain wisdom beyond his years. He was someone who a friend of mine would have called an “old soul”. The song carries a hopeful and compassionate message. I love the lines “Just do the steps that you’ve been shown/By everyone you’ve ever known/Until the dance becomes your very own”. . . /And somewhere between the time you arrive/And the time you go/May lie a reason you were alive/That you’ll never know”. "In the end there is one dance you'll do alone" is a mature perspective for someone a mere 25 years old.
Keep a fire burning in your eyes.
Pay attention to the open skies
You never know what will be coming down
I don’t remember losing track of you,
You were always dancing in and out of view
I must have thought you’d always be around
Always keeping things real by playing the clown
Now you’re nowhere to be found
I don’t know what happens when people die
Can’t seem to grasp it as hard as I try
It’s like a song I can hear playing right in my ear
That I can’t sing
But I can’t help listening . . .
Just do the steps that you’ve been shown
By everyone you’ve ever known
Until the dance becomes your very own.
No matter how close to yours another’s steps have grown
In the end there is one dance you’ll do alone . . .
Don’t let the uncertainty turn you around.
The world keeps turning around
Go on and make a joyful sound
Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive
And the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive
That you’ll never know.
“The Late Show” is a lament describing a history of looking for love and failing to communicate and connect, with a lovely melody and gorgeous guitar again by Lindley. It ends with
Look, it’s like you’re standing in the window
Of a house nobody lives in
And I’m sitting in a car across the way
Let’s just say
An early model Chevrolet
Let’s just say
A warm and windy day
You go and pack your sorrow
Trash man comes tomorrow
Leave it at the curb and we’ll just roll away
Browne is the humble self-confessed stumbler through life in many of his songs. In “Farther On” he sings “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say/It could be I’ve lost my way”. But he’s not always full of lamentation, as shown by “Redneck Friend” and “Ready or Not” on For Everyman, as well as “The Road and the Sky” on this album. In “Walking Slow” he’s happy without having a reason, like Dan Millman’s “peaceful warrior”:
Walking slow down the avenue
In my old neighborhood
I don’t know why I’m happy
I got no reason to feel this good.
The album ends with “Before the Deluge”, a sort of semi-apocalyptic description of what's anticipated in “For Everyman”. It has the same broader perspective that takes in all of humanity, or at least the 70s counterculture, instead of the focus on personal relationships as in most of his songs. It’s a big song, an anthem for those who tried to imagine and build a better world, finally to be defeated and swept up in the tide of history. It’s accompanied beautifully by Lindley’s fiddle playing and Jai Winding’s organ that give it a spiritual overtone that’s almost churchlike.
Some of them were dreamers
And some of them were fools
They were making plans and thinking of the future
With the energy of the innocent
They were gathering the tools
They would need to make their journey back to nature
While the sand slipped through the opening
And their hands reached for the golden ring
With their hearts they turned to each other's hearts for refuge
In the troubled years that came before the deluge
Some of them knew pleasure
And some of them knew pain
And for some of them it was only the moment that mattered
And on the brave and crazy wings of youth
They went flying around in the rain
And their feathers, once so fine, grew torn and tattered
And in the end they traded their tired wings
For the resignation that living brings
And exchanged love's bright and fragile glow
For the glitter and the rouge
And in the moment they were swept before the deluge
Let the music keep our spirits high
Let the buildings keep our children dry
Let creation reveal its secrets by and by
By and by, by and by . . .
When the light that's lost within us reaches the sky
Some of them were angry
At the way the earth was abused
By the men who learned how to forge her beauty into power
And they struggled to protect her from them
Only to be confused
By the magnitude of her fury in the final hour
And when the sand was gone and the time arrived
In the naked dawn only a few survived
And in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge
Believed that they were meant to live after the deluge . . .
While the sand slipped through the opening
And their hands reached for the golden ring
With their hearts they turned to each other’s hearts for refuge
In the troubled years that came before the deluge
The Pretender was a more personal album that grew out of his wife's death, which sold well and had hits with the title song and “Here Come Those Tears Again”. Running on Empty was a bigger album hit with the high-energy title song and “The Load Out/Stay” being a hit single. In the latter he paid tribute to the roadies who travel with him to set up and take down the amps and other stage equipment while he asks them to come for his piano last because well after the concert’s over he still wants to keep playing – then he launches into the old rock and roll hit “Stay” as if he doesn’t want the euphoria of playing music for an audience to end, even though the concert hall has probably cleared out. It's like he’s still playing for his roadie crew while they tear everything down, pack it up and haul it away. His next two albums, Hold Out and Lawyers in Love did well commercially, but even though I bought them I didn’t listen to them much. He’s continued to release albums and has had some critical and commercial success with a number of them.
Browne also has a long history of political activism and benefit concerts as well as collaborations with other singer/songwriters including Crosby, Stills and Nash, Bonnie Raitt, Jennifer Warnes, Ray Davies of The Kinks – and Roger Daltry in a benefit production of The Wizard of Oz in which he played the Scarecrow. He's a sane and stable example in an arena where that's rare, and an paragon of social responsibility that's inspiring. “Our Lady of the Well”, “I Thought I was a Child”, “Ready or Not”, “These Days”, “For Everyman”, "Late for the Sky", “The Late Show”, “For a Dancer”, “Fountain of Sorrow” and “Before the Deluge” spontaneously start to run through my head often. For Everyman, Late for the Sky and The Pretender were picked by Rolling Stone as among the 500 best albums of all time. He sings with heart, and he’s another one of those musicians who’s continued to be creative for over fifty years, someone I still listen to with pleasure after that long. And like Steve Goodman, he’s someone who often voices what I feel and think.
Brett Nelson
"Uncle John’s Band"
Millions of words have probably been written about the Grateful Dead, so what I can offer is a drop in a bucket of water. But I feel the urge to write about what my experience of them has been anyway. More than a band, they were a cultural icon and a movement, created to some extent by design, by allowing fans to record their concerts as long as fans didn’t make profits on the sale of tapes, and by reaching out to their fanbase to solicit names and addresses “to keep you informed”. They also played a lot of free concerts. I never saw a Dead concert, but from the beginning I was intrigued by music that covered so many genres with a sound that was unique to them, and I collected albums one by one until their later music stopped living up to what I first heard. My introduction to them was at a friend’s apartment in about 1971 when he put Workingman’s Dead on his stereo and out came an upbeat song about a sort of Pied Piper titled “Uncle John’s Band”. The Dead, as they were called, didn’t offer a rosy view of humanity but they celebrated life as it was.
Well, the first days are the hardest days,
Don’t you worry anymore
‘Cause when life looks like Easy Street
There is danger at your door
Think this through with me
Let me know your mind
Whoa-oh, what I want to know,
Is are you kind? . . .
Goddamn, well I declare
Have you seen the like
Their walls are built of cannonballs,
Their motto is Don’t Tread on Me
Come hear Uncle John’s Band
By the riverside
Got some things to talk about
Here beside the rising tide
I live in a silver mine
And I call it Beggar’s Tomb
I got me a violin
And I beg you call the tune
Anybody’s choice
I can hear your voice
Whoa-oh, what I want to know,
How does the song go?
Come hear Uncle John’s Band
Playing to the tide
Come with me or go alone
He’s come to take his children home
Come hear Uncle John’s Band
By the riverside
Come on along or go alone
He’s come to take his children home
These weren’t lyrics like anything I’d ever heard before, not even from Bob Dylan. I learned later almost all their lyrics were written by an invisible member of the band, an old friend of Garcia’s named Robert Hunter who didn’t play or sing with the band, while Jerry Garcia wrote the music. Garcia was a folk and bluegrass musician before the Grateful Dead formed, and he continued to play old folk tunes with the acoustic Jerry Garcia Band while in the Dead. He was considered the leader of the band, but he insisted that the others in the band contributed as much to the music they made as he did. Most of the songs were done in the spirit of 19th and early 20th century rural mountain music and country blues, and they had the feel of that. They didn’t paint a picture of a benevolent world, but they conveyed an attitude of engaging life with an accepting spirit in spite of their frequent critical comment on it.
“Dire Wolf” was a comic if foreboding song about an encounter with the fearsome Pleistocene animal, which knocks on the singer’s door.
In the timbers of Fennario
The wolves are runnin' round
The winter was so hard and cold
Froze ten feet 'neath the ground
Don't murder me, I beg of you
Don't murder me, please, don't murder me
I sat down to my supper
It was a bottle of red whisky
I said my prayers and went to bed
That's the last they saw of me
Don't murder me, I beg of you
Don't murder me, please, don't murder me
When I awoke, the dire wolf
Six hundred pounds of sin
Was grinning at my window
All I said was, "Come on in"
Dire wolves were actually about the size of a large modern gray wolf weighing 135 lbs or so, not 600 lbs, but with much more biting power. “All I said was ‘Come on in” – as if “Where did I go wrong?” It’s a bouncy, almost cheery song capped with the comical plea “I beg of you/Don’t murder me, please don’t murder me”. I get an inward smile every time I hear it.
It’s followed by a bluesy number called “New Speedway Boogie,” a favorite of mine.
Please don’t dominate the rap, Jack
If you got nothin’ new to say
If you please, don’t back up the track
This train got to run today
Now I don’t know but I been told
It’s hard to run with the weight of gold
Other hand I heard it said
It’s just as hard with the weight of lead
Spent a little time on the mountain
Spent a little time on the hill
Things went down we don’t understand
But I think in time we will
Now I don’t know but I been told
In the heat of the sun a man died of cold
Do we keep on comin’ or stand and wait
With the sun so dark and the hour so late?
You can’t overlook the lack, Jack
Of any other highway to ride
It’s got no signs or dividing lines
And very few rules to guide
I don’t know, but I been told
If the horse don’t pull you got to carry the load
I don’t know who’s back’s that strong
Maybe find out before too long
One way or another
One way or another
This darkness got to give
“Black Peter” is a slow and mournful song about a dying old man who’s accepting of his fate and just wants “a little peace to die” with a friend or two with him.
All of my friends come to see me last night
I was laying in my bed and dyin’ . . .
Just wanna have a little peace to die
And a friend or two I love at hand
Fever roll up to a hundred and five
Roll on up, gonna roll back down
One more day I find myself alive
Tomorrow maybe go beneath the ground
See here how everything lead up to this day
And it's just like any other day that's ever been
Sun going up and then the sun going down
Shine through my window and my friends they come around
Jerry Garcia had played bluegrass in the early sixties, and the Hunter-Garcia tune “Cumberland Blues” is a bluegrass tune about a mine in Pennsylvania. Someone who actually worked in the Cumberland Mine once said to Hunter “I wonder what the guy who wrote this song would’ve thought if he’d known that something like the Grateful Dead was gonna do it”, not suspecting that he was actually talking to the songwriter. It sounds like something written around 1870 instead of 1970. It’s lyrics, high-speed pace and banjo make it sound like pure 19th century Appalachian mountain music.
A lotta poor man make a five dollar bill
Keep him happy all the time
Some other fella's makin' nothin' at all
And you can hear him cryin’
"Can I go, buddy, can I go down
Take your shift at the mine?"
Gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine
That's where I mainly spend my time
Make good money, five dollars a day
Make anymore, I might move away
Lotta poor man got the Cumberland Blues
He can't win for losin'
Lotta poor man got to walk the line
Just to pay his union dues
I don’t know now, I just don’t know
If I’m goin’ back again
Workingman’s Dead was followed by the equally fine American Beauty, the first album to use a red rose on the cover as a symbol for the band. It starts off with “Box of Rain”, a song Hunter and Phil Lesh wrote when Phil Lesh’s dying father asked Lesh to write a song to sing to him. It’s a mystical song with ambiguous meaning.
Look out of any window, any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining, birds are winging
No rain is falling from a heavy sky
What do you want me to do, to do for you to see you through?
For this is all a dream we dreamed one afternoon, long ago
Walk out of any doorway, feel your way, feel your way
Like the day before, maybe you'll find direction
Around some corner where it's been waiting to meet you
What do you want me to do, to watch for you while you are sleeping?
Then please don't be surprised when you find me dreaming too . . .
And it's just a box of rain, I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it, or leave it if you dare
And it's just a box of rain or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long, long time to be gone and a short time to be there
The classic cut on American Beauty is “Ripple”, a song that became a standard and favorite at Grateful Dead concerts and my personal favorite Grateful Dead song. It’s a mystical acoustic meditation on the ultimate aloneness of existence, but a sweet and compassionate wish for all of us fellow travelers. Accompanied by a simple acoustic guitar and mandolin by stand-in David Grisman, it has a very rhythmic melody that makes you want to sing along, in your head if not out loud.
If my words did glow
with the gold of sunshine
and my tunes were played
on the harp unstrung,
would you hear my voice
come through the music.
Would you hold it near
as it were your own? . . .
Ripple in still water
when there is no pebble tossed
nor wind to blow.
Reach out your hand
if your cup be empty.
If your cup is full
may it be again.
Let it be known
there is a fountain
that was not made
by the hands of men.
There is a road
no simple highway
between the dawn
and the dark of night.
And if you go
no one may follow.
That path is for
your steps alone.
Ripple in still water
when there is no pebble tossed
nor wind to blow.
You who choose,
to lead must follow,
but if you fall
you fall alone.
If you should stand,
then who’s to guide you?
If I knew the way
I would take you home.
Every time I hear this song I feel my heart bathed in compassionate for the unpredictable path I walk. It’s followed by one of two other favorites on this album, “Brokedown Palace”, which feels like a relevant sentiment today. It’s a soothing lullaby with a lovely melody.
Goin to leave this brokedown palace
On my hands and my knees, I will roll, roll, roll
Make myself a bed by the waterside
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll, roll
In a bed, in a bed,
by the waterside I will lay my head
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
to rock my soul
Goin to leave this brokedown palace
On my hands and my knees, I will roll, roll, roll
Make myself a bed by the waterside
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll, roll
In a bed, in a bed,
by the waterside I will lay my head
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
to rock my soul
My other favorite song on American Beauty is “Attics of My Life”, another mystical tune. It’s very ambiguous, seeming to address someone the singer loves deeply with a spiritual gratitude. It’s a very slow, dreamy song that for me seems to express something I feel but can’t identify.
I have spent my life
Seeking all that’s still unsung
Bent my ear to hear the tune
And closed my eyes to see
When there were no strings to play
You played to me . . .
In the book of love’s own dream
Where all the print is blood
Where all the pages are my days
And all my lights grow old
When I had no wings to fly
You flew to me
You
Flew
To me
Grateful Dead songs often seem to have a whimsical or even comic attitude about life and death, infidelity, even murder. “Friend of the Devil” is another fast-paced bluegrass tune on American Beauty.
I lit out from Reno, I was trailed by twenty hounds
Didn't get to sleep that night 'til the morning came around
Set out runnin' but I take my time
A friend of the devil is a friend of mine
If I get home before daylight I just might get some sleep tonight
Ran into the devil, babe, he loaned me twenty bills
Spent the night in Utah in a cave up in the hills . . .
I ran down to the levee but the devil caught me there
He took my twenty dollar bill and he vanished in the air
Set out runnin' but I take my time
A friend of the devil is a friend of mine
If I get home before daylight I just might get some sleep tonight
Got two reasons why I cry away each lonely night:
The first one's named sweet Anne Marie, and she's my heart's delight
The second one is prison, babe, sheriff's on my trail
And if he catches up with me, I'll spend my life in jail . . .
An early Dead song on the album Aoxomoxoa, “Dupree’s Diamond Blues”, also epitomizes this. It’s about a man who kills a jeweler to get a diamond ring to marry his fiancé.
Judge said, "Son, this gonna cost you some time."
Dupree said, "Judge, you know that crossed my mind."
Judge said, "Fact it's gonna cost you your life."
Dupree said, "Judge, you know that seems to me to be about right."
While the last line above is darkly comic, there’s a darker truth under the acceptance of his sentence. It’s an attitude that doesn’t take life and death as seriously as we do today with the medical knowledge and technology to wage war on death and disease. 100-150 years ago people frequently died from all kinds of causes at much younger ages. People didn’t have the degree of confidence they would live to an advanced age, especially people on the lower rungs of society. Law enforcement was sketchy on the frontier and in the mountains. Almost everyone had guns and it seems from old songs that violent death was not as novel as it is today, with the exception of drug- and gang-related death in city ghettoes. So many old song talk about violent death, and the Dead drew a lot their inspiration from those old songs.
The Dead frequently worked old folk songs and rock and roll standards into their concerts. Their 1971 live album, simply titled Grateful Dead but often referred to as the “skull and roses” album due to the cover art, includes a fast-tempo and dynamic 9:14 minute combo of Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away” that segues seamlessly into the traditional “Goin Down the Road Feelin Bad”. The band is totally in sync and it’s exhilarating to listen to. They also played old blues and folk songs like “Deep Elem Blues” and Elizabeth Cotton’s “Oh, Babe It Ain’t No Lie”.
Another example of songs joined together in a smooth transition from their Europe ‘72” live album is “China Cat Sunflower” paired with the traditional blues “I Know You Rider”. The first is impressionistic poetry unlike any other Hunter lyrics I can think of, with a fantastic guitar accompaniment on both songs by Garcia. It’s typical of his jazzy improvisation. One writer described Garcia's guitar style as “playing bluegrass runs on the guitar”.
Look for a while at the China Cat Sunflower
proud-walking jingle in the midnight sun
Copper-dome bodhi drip a silver kimono
like a crazy-quilt star gown
through a dream night wind
Krazy Kat peeking through a lace bandanna
like a one-eyed Cheshire
like a diamond-eye Jack
A leaf of all colors
plays a golden-string fiddle
to a double-e waterfall over my back
Comic book colors on a violin river
crying Leonardo words
from out a silk trombone
I rang a silent bell
beneath a shower of pearls
in the eagle wing palace
of the Queen Chinee
Hunter wrote in his songbook that no one’s ever asked him what the song means because “People seem to know exactly what I’m talking about”. I have no idea, and I love the lyrics and the song anyway.
“I Know You Rider” picks up the pace a lot, with a wonderful cascading piano and non-stop electric guitar lines like a swift mountain stream flowing steeply down its rocky channel as in “Not Fade Away/Goin Down the Road Feelin Bad” on their “skull and roses” live album in a rock and roll tour de force that leaves no doubt they were a great rock and roll band. Ron “Pigpen” McKernan has his best song on this album, a slow and soulful rendition of Elmore James’ “It Hurts Me Too” – “When things go wrong/Wrong with you/It hurts me too”, lamenting how a former lover is treated by another man.
“Brown-Eyed Women” is a gem from their live Europe ’72 album that like a lot of old folk songs tells a tragic tale. It’s a moderately paced rocker with a different-sounding electric guitar than Garcia usually plays, piano and a steady, simple drumbeat.
Gone are the days when the ox fall down
Take up the yoke and plow the fields around
Gone are the days when the ladies said, "Please
Gentle Jack Jones, won't you come to me?" . . .
Delilah Jones was the mother of twins
Two times over and the rest were sins
Raised eight boys, only I turned bad
Didn't get the news that the other ones had
Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
And it looks like the old man's gettin' on
Tumble down shack on Big Foot county
Snowed so hard that the roof caved in
Delilah Jones went to meet her God
And the old man never was the same again
1974's From the Mars Hotel has its own fast-paced rocker in "U S Blues."
Red and white, blue suede shoes
I'm Uncle Sam, how do you do?
Give me five, I'm still alive
Ain't no luck, I learned to duck
Check my pulse, it don't change
Stay seventy-two come shine or rain
Wave the flag, pop the bag
Rock the boat, skin the goat
Wave that flag, wave it wide and high
Summertime done, come and gone, my, oh, my
I'm Uncle Sam, that's who I am
Been hiding out in a rock and roll band
Shake the hand that shook the hand
Of P.T. Barnum and Charlie Chan
Shine your shoes, light your fuse
Can you use them old U.S. Blues?
We're all confused, what's to lose?
You can call this song the United States Blues
Another jazz-inflected song is “Eyes of the World” from their previous studio album, Wake of the Flood.
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own
From the Mars Hotel is their last really good studio album, not quite as good as Workingman’s Dead or American Beauty, but not that far off. Besides “U S Blues”, it has a haunting “China Doll”, a moody song about a child’s reaction to a parent’s murder by their spouse. It’s murky, and hard to understand who’s talking when. But it’s a moving song that gives you a chill as the child is told to pick up the doll she dropped, as if that's the only thing they can think of to try to comfort the child and having it “only fractured” will somehow soothe her. Garcia sings it in a slow and dreamy, melancholic but tender voice.
A pistol shot at 5 o'clock
The bells of heaven ring
Tell me what you done it for
"No I won't tell you a thing
"Yesterday I begged you
before I hit the ground -
all I leave behind me
is only what I found . . .
"I will not condemn you
nor yet would I deny . . ."
I would ask the same of you
but failing will not die
Take up your china doll
it's only fractured –
just a little nervous
from the fall
The best song on From the Mars Hotel is “Ship of Fools”, the closest The Dead get to direct political statement, apparently written during the Watergate hearings, or after.
Went to see the captain, strangest I could find
Laid my proposition down, laid it on the line
I won't slave for beggar's pay, likewise gold and jewels
But I would slave to learn the way to sink your ship of fools
Ship of fools on a cruel sea
Ship of fools sail away from me
It was later than I thought when I first believed you
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools
Saw your first ship sink and drown, from rocking of the boat
And all that could not sink or swim was just left there to float
I won't leave you drifting down but whoa it makes me wild
With thirty years upon my head to have you call me child
Ship of fools on a cruel sea
Ship of fools sail away from me
It was later than I thought when I first believed you
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools
The bottles stand as empty as they were filled before
Time there was and plenty but from that cup no more
Though I could not caution all I still might warn a few
Don't lend your hand to raise no flag atop no ship of fools
The Dead continued to churn out studio albums for years, with 1987’s Built to Last and 1989’s In the Dark capturing some of their earlier energy and form as Garcia curtailed his drug use and addressed health problems like diabetes. In the early 80s Garcia’s performance on stage began to suffer. It resulted in the band doing an intervention, and he sought treatment. In the Dark was their last studio album. In spite of their largely electric instrumentation, the Dead were basically an American “roots music” band that took their inspiration from 19th century blues and country music, partly due to Robert Hunter’s lyrical focus. They were much like The Band in that regard, but a little further out on the edge. They even did an album with Bob Dylan.
In spite of their mixing genres from Motown R&B to bluegrass to blues, country and psychedelic music, as well as playing long improvised jams throughout their career, “in 2024, they broke the record for most Top-40 albums on the Billboard 200 chart. Rolling Stone ranked the Grateful Dead number 57 on its 2011 list of the ‘100 Greatest Artists of All Time’ The band was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1994 and a recording of their May 8, 1977, performance at Cornell University's Barton Hall was added to the National Recording Registry of the Library of Congress in 2012 for being ‘culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant’ ” (Wikipedia). There have been some bands that took the Dead as their model, but there has never been another band anything like the Dead with their aura and almost mythic status, especially with the vast collection of concert recordings they and even their fans have made and circulated. They were more than a band -- a cultural phenomenon that grew out of Haight-Ashbury and the Summer of Love that lived on creatively for decades after that scene died. They created, simply by who they were and how they made and spread their music, a musical community and a movement that was unique and will almost certainly never be replicated.
Brett Nelson
Paul McCartney Takes Wing – After the Beatles
In 1970 as the Beatles were quietly being dissolved, Paul McCartney came out with his first solo album titled simply McCartney on which he played all instruments, including drums. The album wasn’t remarkable except for one song, “Maybe I’m Amazed”, which later became a favorite at Wings concerts. It’s a tribute to his wife Linda and a humble admission of how much he leaned on her during the lonely separation from the musicians he had made music with for a decade, especially from Lennon. It’s a passionate song driven mostly by piano but including a nice electric guitar solo as well. “Maybe I’m Amazed” is a heartfelt soulful ballad that continues to be a favorite in concerts.
He was a one-man band for that album, but he then formed a band with Denny Laine from the Moody Blues, drummer Denny Seiwell and his wife Linda and went on one of the best runs of pop music of the 70s. It started with Ram, credited to “Paul and Linda McCartney”, which had the delightful hit “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey”. It’s a very complex song with four tempo changes and playful lyrics sung on one verse in a stuffy upper class British accent, with the sound of thunderstorms and birdcalls in the background. Linda McCartney contributes some nice background/harmony vocals that are part of the sound on this album and Wings albums.
We're so sorry, but we haven't heard a thing all day
We're so sorry, Uncle Albert
But if anything should happen
We'll be sure to give a ring
We're so sorry, Uncle Albert
But we haven't done a bloody thing all day
We're so sorry, Uncle Albert
But the kettle's on the boil
And we're so easily called away
Hands across the water (Water)
Heads across the sky
Hands across the water (Water)
Heads across the sky
Admiral Halsey notified me
He had to have a berth or he couldn't get to sea
I had another look and I had a cup of tea
And a butter pie (A butter pie?)
(The butter wouldn't melt, so I put it in the pie, alright?)
Hands across the water (Water)
Heads across the sky
Hands across the water (Water)
Heads across the sky
Live a little, be a gypsy, get around (Get around)
Get your feet up off the ground
Live a little, get around
Live a little, be a gypsy, get around (Get around)
Get your feet up off the ground
Live a little, get around
“Ram On” is the simplest song McCartney ever recorded – a simple melody with one brief verse repeated three times, but it’s probably the summation of his philosophy and way of life. Once he met Linda Eastman, a celebrated rock and roll photographer, his life was settled until she died of cancer. It’s accompanied by his ukelele, piano, even a kazoo toward the end. The cover of Ram shows McCartney dressed like a farmer holding a ram by its horns that have a double curve in them. He bought a farm in Scotland and spent time there to get away from the cities and the music world. It’s hard to say what meanings the words “ram on” had for him.
Ram on
Give your heart to somebody soon
Right away
Right away
McCartney’s music is fun to listen to because he has fun making it, playing with words like a kid, and with all kinds of sounds and vocals and continually taking the listener by surprise. The other standout on Ram is the high energy rocker “Monkberry Moon Delight”. with wonderfully nonsensical lyrics that builds on a driving beat while McCartney screams the lyrics in a rough voice.
So I sat in the attic, a piano up my nose
And the wind played a dreadful cantata (Cantata, cantata)
Sore was I from the crack of an enemy's hose
And the horrible sound of tomato (Tomato, tomato)
Catch up (Catch up)
Soup and puree (Soup and puree)
Don't get left behind (Get left behind)
Catch up (Catch up)
Soup and puree (Soup and puree)
Don't get left behind
(Get left behind, get left behind, get left behind)
When a rattle of rats had awoken
The sinews, the nerves, and the veins
My piano was boldly outspoken
And attempts to repeat his refrain
So I stood with a knot in my stomach
And I gazed at that terrible sight
Of two youngsters concealed in a barrel
Sucking monkberry moon delight
Monkberry moon delight
Monkberry moon delight
Monkberry moon delight
Monkberry moon delight
Well, I know my banana is older than the rest
And my hair is a tangled beretta (Beretta, beretta)
And when I leave my pajamas to Billy Budapest
And I don't get the gist of your letter (Your letter, your letter)
As with many of his songs, though catchy and amusing, the lyrics make no sense. But McCartney isn’t interested in saying something, only in making great music that he loves to play and is a joy to listen to. Most lyrics are enjoyable because they're surprising and interesting. Even the background singing by the band, including Linda McCartney, is interesting and adds to the songs.
After Ram the band became Wings and released Band on the Run, an absolute classic of pop music, but a thinking person’s pop music with great melodies, musicianship and vocals. There’s no pop album I know that is more of a pleasure and stimulating to listen to. The title cut is the highlight of the album, although not by much. McCartney envisions the singer in prison in the first verse in a quiet and slow, dreamy start.
Stuck inside these four walls
Sent inside forever
Never seeing no one nice again
Like you, mama
You, mama
You
If I ever get out of here
Thought of giving it all away
To a registered charity
All I need is a pint a day
If I ever get out of here
(If we ever get out of here)
The second stanza speeds up a bit with a rock beat and electric guitar and organ. Then the song kicks into high gear with horns and acoustic rhythm guitar with a solid drum beat and high energy rock and roll to frame the band as a gang of outlaws on the run from the law.
Well, the rain exploded with a mighty crash
As we fell into the sun
And the first one said to the second one there
"I hope you're having fun."
Band on the run, band on the run
And the jailer man
And sailor Sam
Were searching everyone
For the band on the run, band on the run
For the band on the run, band on the run
Well, the undertaker drew a heavy sigh
Seeing no one else had come
And a bell was ringing in the village square
For the rabbits on the run
Well, the night was falling
As the desert world began to settle down
In the town they're searching for us everywhere
But we never will be found
Band on the run, band on the run
And the county judge, who held a grudge
Will search for ever more
For the band on the run
Band on the run
Band on the run
Band on the run
There’s a theme of “the outlaw” running through music from old folk songs like “Pretty Polly” down through Woody Guthrie – “Pretty Boy Floyd” to Bob Dylan – “John Wesley Harding”, the Eagles – “Doolin-Dalton”, Paul Simon – “Keep the Customer Satisfied” and Happy and Artie Traum – “State Line”. Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson formed a group they called The Highwaymen, a term in England for robbers who waylaid travelers on country roads to rob them. I think there are plenty of more examples. Thinking back to what I wrote about the Eagles, the illusion of adolescence is often that the way to happiness is “breakin all the rules”. But as we grow older and mature, we find out it’s not so simple. James Dean died in a car crash in his sports car on the California coast highway going 100 mph. Breaking some rules, even laws, can be a mark of maturity and courage, like segregation and laws prohibiting homosexuality and interracial marriage. There are also good rules and laws, part of the social contract of civilization that protect us, and others from us.
McCartney plays rock and roll, which is mostly about the beat before rock and roll evolved into the elaborate guitar solos and heavy-handed instrumentation of rock music. There’s a lot of guitar and bass and organ in his music, but they’re mostly short fills driven by strong drums. “Band on the Run” has a steady and infectious drumbeat reminiscent of Ringo.
The mellow “Bluebird” is a love song with a really nice melody. It has a soft, unhurried drumbeat and a short but soulful saxophone solo. It’s a delightful song to listen to.
Late at night when the wind is still
I'll come flying through your door
And you'll know what love is for
I'm a bluebird
I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Touch your lips with a magic kiss
And you'll be a bluebird too
And you'll know what love can do
I'm a bluebird
I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird, I'm a bluebird
Yeah, yeah, yeah. . .
All alone on a desert island
We're living in the trees
And we're flying in the breeze
We're the bluebirds
We're the bluebirds, we're the bluebirds, we're the bluebirds
The album then shifts back to rock and roll with”Jet”, followed by “Mrs Vanderbilt” with the pulsing rhythm driven by McCartney’s very audible bass and a solid drum line. It also has some good saxophone fills, and ends with some cackling witch voices in the background that sound like they’re from The Wizard of Oz.
Down in the jungle, living in a tent
You don't use money, you don't pay rent
You don't even know the time, but you don't mind
Ho, hey ho
Ho, hey ho
Ho, hey ho
Ho, hey ho
When your light is on the blink, you never think of worrying
What's the use of worrying?
When your bus has left the stop, you'd better drop your hurrying
What's the use of hurrying?. . .
Leave me alone, Mrs. Vanderbilt
I've got plenty of time of my own
What's the use of worrying?
What's the use of hurrying?
What's the use of anything?. . .
When your pile is on the wane
You don't complain of robbery (Oh, no)
Run away, don't bother me
What's the use of worrying? (No use)
What's the use of anything?
Leave me alone, Mrs. Washington
I've done plenty of time on my own
“Mamunia” is one of my favorite songs on the album. It’s an acoustic ballad with a world music sound to it and a poetic ecological theme. It’s the closest McCartney comes to any sort of political statement. McCartney’s bass is again prominent and drives the song, except with what sound like tablas or congas on the chorus. “Mamunia” is a diminutive Polish word for “mama”, according to Wiktionary.
The rain comes falling from the sky
To fill the stream that fills the sea
And that's where life began for you and me
So the next time you see rain it ain't bad
Don't complain, it rains for you
The next time you see L.A. rain clouds
Don't complain, it rains for you and me
Mamunia, mamunia, mamunia
Oh oh oh
Mamunia, mamunia
Oh oh oh oh oh
Mamunia, mamunia, mamunia
Oh oh oh
Mamunia, mamunia
Oh oh oh oh oh
It might have been a bright blue day
But rain clouds had to come this way
They're watering everything that they can see
A seed is waiting in the earth
For rain to come and give him birth
It's all he really needs to set him free
So the next time you see L.A. rain clouds
Don't complain, it rains for you
So lay down your umbrellas
Strip off your plastic macs Ooh Ooh
You've never felt the rain my friend
Till you've felt it running down your back
So the next time you see rain, it ain't bad
Don't complain, it rains for you
The next time you see L.A. rain clouds
Don't complain, it rains for you and me
“Helen Wheels” is just straight high-energy rock and roll fun with some blistering guitar work.
Said farewell to my last hotel,
it never was much kind of abode
Glasgow town never brought me down
when I was heading out on the road
Carlisle city never looked so pretty,
and the Kendal freeway's fast
Slow down driver, wanna stay alive,
I wanna make this journey last
Helen (Helen)
Hell on wheels
Ain't nobody else gonna know the way she feels
Helen (Helen)
Hell on wheels
And they're never gonna take her away
“Picasso’s Last Words” is a laid-back imagining of a party with Picasso and friends in which he tells them "Drink to me, drink to my health/You know I can't drink any more" after which he dies during the night. I don’t find any reference to Picasso saying this or being unable to drink, but he apparently entertained friends for dinner, painted until 3:00 AM, and died the next morning. So I think this is McCartney’s poetic license. It’s a languid song with acoustic guitar, then an interlude with clarinet and someone speaking French. The band then slips into a quiet chorus of “Jet”, then sounds of a party in French again, ending on a fadeout with the chorus of Mrs Vanderbilt. It’s an odd but very engaging, catchy song. There’s some brief and restrained use of strings also. It runs through my mind a lot after I hear it.
A grand old painter died last night
His paintings on the wall
Before he went, he bade us well
And said goodnight to us all
"Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can't drink any more"
"Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can't drink any more"
3 o'clock in the morning. I'm getting ready for bed
It came without a warning
But I'll be waiting for you baby
I'll be waiting for you there
So drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can't drink any more
Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can't drink any more
The album ends with “Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Five”, the most intense rock and roll music on the album. It’s backed with a pounding piano and a heavy drumbeat, a clarinet at the end and an extended climax at the end that builds to a loud rock and roll crescendo.
Oh, my mama said the time would come
When I would find myself in love with you
I didn't think, I never dreamed
That I would be around to see it all come true
Oh, I. . .
Oh, I. . .
Well I just can't get enough
Of that sweet stuff
My little lady gets behind
Oh, no one ever left alive
In nineteen hundred and eighty-five
Will ever do
She may be right, she may be fine
She may get love but she won't get mine
'Cause I got you
Wings followed Band on the Run with the excellent Venus and Mars, which starts with the brief and mellow “Venus and Mars”, followed by the intense “Rock Show” about the experience of a band playing at large arenas.
There's a rock show at the Concertgebouw
They've got long hair at the Madison Square
You've got rock and roll at the Hollywood Bowl
We'll be there, oh yeah
The lights go down, they're back in town, O.K.
Behind the stacks, you glimpse an axe [guitar]
The tension mounts, you score an ounce, olé!
The temperatures rise as you see the whites of their eyes. . .
In my green metal suit, I'm preparing to shoot up the city
And the ring at the end of my nose makes me look rather pretty
It's a pity there's nobody here to witness the end
Save for my dear old friend and confidante, mademoiselle Kitty
It’s a concept album envisioning some future time and describing a guitar used by Jimmy Page as a “relic” and picking up on the outlaw theme – “preparing to shoot up the city”, with an apocalyptic note – “nobody here to witness the end”. It’s followed by a moody “Love in Song” and a Rudy Valee sounding “You Gave Me the Answer” reminiscent of “Honey Pie” from the Beatles’ "White Album", accompanied by cheery horns and clarinet.
Next comes one of the best songs on the album, “Magneto and Titanium Man”. “You were the law” makes no sense after the rest, but the outlaw theme runs from “She Came in through the Bathroom Window” through “Band on the Run” to this song. McCartney’s lyrics aren’t often deep but there’s a playfulness in them that’s always enjoyable. He sounds like he’s having fun writing and playing music, and it’s fun to listen to.
Well I was talking last night
Magneto and Titanium Man
We were talking about you, babe
They said
You was involved in a robbery
That was due to happen at a quarter to three
In the main street
I didn't believe them (I didn't believe them)
Magneto and Titanium Man
But when the Crimson Dynamo
Finally assured me, well, I knew
So we went out
Magneto and Titanium Man
And the Crimson Dynamo
Came along for the ride
We went to town with the library
And we swung all over that long tall bank
In the main street
Well there she were and to my despair
She's a five-star criminal breaking the code
Magneto said, "Now the time has come
To gather our forces and run!"
Oh, no, this can't be so
And then it occurred to me, you couldn't be bad
Magneto was mad, Titanium too!
And the Crimson Dynamo just couldn't cut it no more
You were the law
“Letting Go” is a slow rocker with heavy drum and base lines backed with horns and some nice electric guitar lines. It feels like a tribute to Linda with a minor key sound.
Ah, she tastes like wine
Such a human being so divine
Oh, she feels like sun
Mother Nature, look at what you've done
Oh (Oh), I feel like letting go
Oh (Oh), I feel like letting go
Oh, she looks like snow
I wanna put her in a Broadway show
Ah, she'll dance and dine
Like a Lucifer she'll always shine
“Spirits of Ancient Egypt” is a rocker with a haunting sound to it. I don’t know what spirits of ancient Egypt and shadows of ancient Rome have to do with it, but those lines with the spooky background singing lend the song its aura, accompanied by electric guitar and heavy drums.
You're my baby and I love you
You can take a pound of love and cook it in the stew
And when you've finished doing that, I know what you'll wanna do
'Cause you're my baby and I love you
I'm your baby, do you love me?
I can drive a Cadillac across the Irish Sea
But when I've finished doing that, I know where I'll wanna be
'Cause I'm your baby, and you love me
Spirits of ancient Egypt
Shadows of ancient Rome
Spirits of ancient Egypt
Hung on the telly, hung on the telly
Hung on the telephone
McCartney gets serious with the moody “Medicine Jar”, sounding a warning about prescription drug abuse he saw in those around him. This was before Lennon was shot and Harrison’s death from lung cancer, but there had been a lot of deaths of musicians he knew before that.
What's wrong with you? I wish I knew
You say time will tell, I hope that's true
There's more to life than blues and reds
I say I know how you feel now, your friends are dead
Dead on your feet, you won't get far
If you keep on sticking your hand in the medicine jar
Now don't give up, whatever you do
You say time will tell, I hope that's true
If you go down and lose your head
I say I know how you feel now, your friends are dead
A nice touch on the album is the tender “Treat Her Gently” combined with the sensitive and poignant “Lonely Old People”, reminiscent of John Prine’s “Hello in There”, Steve Goodman's "The Dutchman" and Simon and Garfunkel’s “Old Friends”.
Here we sit, two lonely old people
Eking our lives away
Bit by bit, two lonely old people
Keeping the time of day
Here we sit, out of breath
And nobody asked us to play
Old people's home for the day
Nobody asked us to play
The songs on Venus and Mars and Band on the Run are all good songs, enjoyable tunes that linger and replay in my mind with pleasure after I’ve heard them. McCartney doesn’t write many songs with a lot of depth, but his lyrics are full of enjoyable play with words, lots of musical surprises, interesting and fun to listen to. And I think now I have some understanding of what critics mean when they talk about arrangements. His songs are complex with lots of little instrumental fills, harmony and background voices and use of surprising instruments, including strings that don’t sound like an orchestra, placed in spots that enhance the richness of the music. I bought a few of his subsequent albums but wasn’t much captivated by any of them. Lennon’s “Imagine” and Harrison’s All Things Must Pass notwithstanding, these first post-Beatles McCartney/Wings albums are the best music any of the four ex-Beatles have made. He just came out with a new album in his 80s titled Boys of Dungeon Lane, which has been getting critical praise. But I never get tired of listening to Ram and these two early Wings albums.
