skip to main |
skip to sidebar
...when harry smith assembled these six anthology disks back in 1952 they were all less than 25 years old but had been forgotten by everyone except a couple of collector type cats, they might as well been from out of space as they didn't have any belonging to the new 'fabulous nation' of post war consumerism, no place in the chrome plated atomic age where hollywood and madison avenue dictated the style...these mountain ballads and centuries old english folk tunes placed into the appalachians spoke of truth and long gone/ever present mystical everyday concerns seemingly had no bearing to the fifties decade where the population were now to be fed molly coddling pap in an effort to reduce their awareness of the surroundings in which they were now living...these tunes had a history that spoke of older tymes, real or imagined, places from the back waters of long gone yesterdays, they spoke of peoples from some other worlds, another land that had no parlance in the shiny new suburbs where the rules were to be obeyed...these ballads, dance tunes and rural blues represented a peoples the ruling elite of amerikkka hated with avengence, the working class, the underclass whose history was being wiped out, replaced with manufactured lies taken from dime store pulp/cowboy flicks/blatant propaganda, the 'truths' now came from the TEEVEE where everyone was happy smiles busy consuming, where the cop on the corner was a friendly face to be trusted, advertising salesmen were the new sooth sayers who had all the answers...harrys anthology came in three double disk sets, packaged in heavy book style covers with personal annotation by himself, all decorated with period adverts and photos and small biographies...it gradually worked its way into beatnik circles and came to high fruition with the late 50s folk revival that was happening in certain hep urban areas, cats like dylan/holy modal rounders/lost city ramblers/mark spoelstra/eric von schmidt all devoured these sets, learning the tunes, grabbing some kind of heritage to bolt the present day to, getting ahold of some history to guide the way forward...dig the sound of uncle dave macon/dock boggs/mississippi john hurt/carter family/buell kazee/bently boys/alabama sacred harp singers/carolina tar heels and so many, many more all gathered here to transport the listener to the real world of tangible imagination, where the centuries intermingle, death ballads and saturday night dances all collide to bring about a new land...
...the saddest thing about this package is that the songs are still relevant, the names and places maybe from yesteryear but the circumstances that permit attrocity and calamity to flourish are still here in the present day, the downpressor is active on all fronts keeping the truth well hid, disguising all traces of its existance in double talk, the media barrage of constant 24hour 'information' clogging up all arteries with scare stories, plans to end global warming and celebrities...the more that is spoken, the less is known, true dialogue is dead, banned, never to set foot in society less the shiny veneer of empty promises is worn too thin and vanishes forever...the madmen, as always, run the asylum and true right thinking voices are co-opted/consumed/killed only to replaced by replica dummies from the closets of tyranny...broadside magazine was started in 1962 and dovetailed into the folk revival/civil rights with topical songs and opinion and sometimes records...bob dylan/phil ochs/nina simone/richard farina/eric andersen/malvina reynolds and many many others contributed their time and songs in the hope it will be entertaining and enlightening to the listener/reader...89 songs of rage and resistance, of passion and politics where the struggle continues in the noonday heat and coal black night...from the darkness of yesterday comes the knowledge to light the way forward from under the thunderous clouds of oppression...bend the nails of conformity that are constantly hammered into the flesh of imagination, beware the flim-flam man that sells the poison cakes in the name of happiness and contentment...avoid the liberal ever massaging the wounds of society, whose pay comes from the purse of the status quo...
...when harry smith assembled these six anthology disks back in 1952 they were all less than 25 years old but had been forgotten by everyone except a couple of collector type cats, they might as well been from out of space as they didn't have any belonging to the new 'fabulous nation' of post war consumerism, no place in the chrome plated atomic age where hollywood and madison avenue dictated the style...these mountain ballads and centuries old english folk tunes placed into the appalachians spoke of truth and long gone/ever present mystical everyday concerns seemingly had no bearing to the fifties decade where the population were now to be fed molly coddling pap in an effort to reduce their awareness of the surroundings in which they were now living...these tunes had a history that spoke of older tymes, real or imagined, places from the back waters of long gone yesterdays, they spoke of peoples from some other worlds, another land that had no parlance in the shiny new suburbs where the rules were to be obeyed...these ballads, dance tunes and rural blues represented a peoples the ruling elite of amerikkka hated with avengence, the working class, the underclass whose history was being wiped out, replaced with manufactured lies taken from dime store pulp/cowboy flicks/blatant propaganda, the 'truths' now came from the TEEVEE where everyone was happy smiles busy consuming, where the cop on the corner was a friendly face to be trusted, advertising salesmen were the new sooth sayers who had all the answers...harrys anthology came in three double disk sets, packaged in heavy book style covers with personal annotation by himself, all decorated with period adverts and photos and small biographies...it gradually worked its way into beatnik circles and came to high fruition with the late 50s folk revival that was happening in certain hep urban areas, cats like dylan/holy modal rounders/lost city ramblers/mark spoelstra/eric von schmidt all devoured these sets, learning the tunes, grabbing some kind of heritage to bolt the present day to, getting ahold of some history to guide the way forward...dig the sound of uncle dave macon/dock boggs/mississippi john hurt/carter family/buell kazee/bently boys/alabama sacred harp singers/carolina tar heels and so many, many more all gathered here to transport the listener to the real world of tangible imagination, where the centuries intermingle, death ballads and saturday night dances all collide to bring about a new land...
...the saddest thing about this package is that the songs are still relevant, the names and places maybe from yesteryear but the circumstances that permit attrocity and calamity to flourish are still here in the present day, the downpressor is active on all fronts keeping the truth well hid, disguising all traces of its existance in double talk, the media barrage of constant 24hour 'information' clogging up all arteries with scare stories, plans to end global warming and celebrities...the more that is spoken, the less is known, true dialogue is dead, banned, never to set foot in society less the shiny veneer of empty promises is worn too thin and vanishes forever...the madmen, as always, run the asylum and true right thinking voices are co-opted/consumed/killed only to replaced by replica dummies from the closets of tyranny...broadside magazine was started in 1962 and dovetailed into the folk revival/civil rights with topical songs and opinion and sometimes records...bob dylan/phil ochs/nina simone/richard farina/eric andersen/malvina reynolds and many many others contributed their time and songs in the hope it will be entertaining and enlightening to the listener/reader...89 songs of rage and resistance, of passion and politics where the struggle continues in the noonday heat and coal black night...from the darkness of yesterday comes the knowledge to light the way forward from under the thunderous clouds of oppression...bend the nails of conformity that are constantly hammered into the flesh of imagination, beware the flim-flam man that sells the poison cakes in the name of happiness and contentment...avoid the liberal ever massaging the wounds of society, whose pay comes from the purse of the status quo...
No comments:
Post a Comment