The Jayhawks, an 'almost famous' band that you may or may not have heard of was formed in 1985 by the original singer-songwriter duo of Gary Louris and Mark Olson. Olson has quit the band a couple of different times, the last being in 2012.
The Jayhawks have been called alt rock, alt country, Americana, etc. I think they are simply a great rock 'n' band band and probably my current favorite band since their release of Paging Mr. Proust in 2016. Over the years, The Jayhawks have grown a nice fan base without a radio format hit to propel them to 'famous' status. That being said, they have the respect of many musicians and bands like Wilco who came later and have themselves received greater acclaim by the music establishment. Rolling Stone put it best in this recent article by Jonathan Bernstein: 35 Years Into a Career, the Jayhawks Remain Americana’s Most Underappreciated Band.
Yeah I'm a real 'johnny come lately' to follow this great band but that's part of my rock 'n' roll back story: saving my soul in the 60's and 70's, losing my way in the 80's through early 2000's, and then becoming reborn again to music upon my retirement from my day job in 2014. I started my Monday Monday Music blog in January, 2015 to explore music more deeply, and give myself a weekly writing assignment to improve my writing.
The Jayhawks are a perfect example of discovering a band that took me back to my 1960's rock 'n' roll roots, and as an enduring band, continue to evolve their music from a multitude of rock influences to create new music now into 2020. New music that in fact embodies my specific personal taste and blend of rock 'n' roll Americana, like no other band.
The latest iteration of The Jayhawks have in my opinion a perfect band makeup: a harmony of voices, a woman singer in the band, keyboards, and a four member group with a democracy in song writing spread across an album.
The Jayhawks:
Gary Louris – Vocals/Guitar
Marc Perlman - Bass
Karen Grotberg – Vocals/Keyboards
Tim O’Reagan – Vocals/Drums/Guitar
The new album XOXO, is literally 'hugs and kisses' to their loyal fan base. The front jacket cover art alone is made to order for Monday Monday Music. One sees a teenage girl in the early to mid-sixties listening to her favorite albums spread out on the carpet. It made me imagine as the oldest child in my family- 'what if' I had had an older sister, one who would expose me to her record collection at a very early age and show me the way...
In prepping for this blog, I got interested in Gary Louris by watching his live streaming pandemic show called, The Sh*t Show with Gary Louris (a feature of last week's blog). I started thinking, I bet Gary's sixty-five. That's ten years younger than all those great rock 'n' roll musicians born in the mid-1940's and just old enough to fully absorb Beatlemania and the British Invasion. Sure enough Gary Louris was born March 10, 1955, sixteen days older than me (and fun fact, both of us being a few months older than Bill Gates and a few days younger than Steve Jobs, boy I'm pretty small potatoes compared to these birth year classmates).
Here's a nice quote from the Joel Bernstein article about Louris- “Gary is just a consummate creator of melody,” says Jayhawks fan M.C. Taylor, who records as Hiss Golden Messenger. “His music sounds like he has spent a lifetime listening to the way melody and harmony work on our emotions, but he never sounds like he’s copying anyone.”
I'll finish here with a little more resource info on the band that you might enjoy as I leave you with both the new audio album and accompanying videos for XOXO. I recommend you listen to the audio album first, just like the old days sitting on the carpet, and before the internet video tubes and stuff. Stay well my friends!
A young man from a small town With a very large imagination...
On the evening of April 7th, I knew I would be writing a John Prine blog post on the Monday following his passing. In reading the outpouring of love from his fans, journalists and artists in the music business, what could I say that already hasn't been said about one of the greatest singer-songwriters of his generation. Now John Prine's generation- being born in 1946 is a hallowed sweet spot in time, right after World War II where a mighty legion of singer-songwriters grew of age in the 1960's - 70's to carry folk into country and rock 'n' roll, and then back-to-the-future with Americana.
John Prine's 1971 self-titled first album, John Prine is a masterpiece of songwriting and I was thinking about that album this past week and thought, "did he ever write a bad song?" Then, I thought about doing a comprehensive playlist, and that would be something like 150+ songs. Or, how about doing what many of the news outlets were doing, something like a "John Prine Essentials" list that would include songs like Sam Stone, Hello in There, Angel From Montgomery, Paradise, and the epicLake Marie.
Then I started thinking about the #hashtag James Taylor has been using in several of his recent social media posts- #SongsOfComfort based on Yo Yo Ma's call for finding songs to help people at home during this pandemic.
That is when it hit me, how about just playing some of the fun and goofy songs where John's writing is the invention of a fun puzzle, an engaging mind-game within himself... the John Prine smile. Songs like, It's A Big Ol' Goofy World and Linda Goes to Mars, where even after the first, second and countless listens, the writer's expression is received... in your smile.
So here's a few of my favorite John Prine smiles that are worthy of the tag #FunSongs, #SongsOfComfort, or songs that simply define #CreativeWriting. Please take time to read the lyrics before playing each video as John's words are a collective bond that have touched so many of us deep to our core.
It's A Big Old Goofy World
Up in the morning
Work like a dog
Is better than sitting
Like a bump on a log
Mind all your manners
Be quiet as a mouse
Some day you'll own a home
That's as big as a house
I know a fella
He eats like a horse
Knocks his old balls
Round the old golf course
You oughta see his wife
She's a cute little dish
She smokes like a chimney
And drinks like a fish
There's a big old goofy man
Dancing with a big old goofy girl
Ooh baby
It's a big old goofy world
Now Elvis had a woman
With a head like a rock
I wished I had a woman
That made my knees knock
She'd sing like an angel
And eat like a bird
And if I wrote a song
She'd know ever single word
Kiss a little baby
Give the world a smile
If you take an inch
Give 'em back a mile
Cause if you lie like a rug
And you don't give a damn
You're never gonna be
As happy as a clam
So I'm sitting in a hotel
Trying to write a song
My head is just as empty
As the day is long
Why it's clear as a bell
I should have gone to school
I'd be wise as an owl
Stead of stubborn as a mule.
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In Spite Of Ourselves
(feat. Iris DeMent)
She don't like her eggs all runny
She thinks crossin' her legs is funny
She looks down her nose at money
She gets it on like the Easter Bunny
She's my baby I'm her honey
I'm never gonna let her go
He ain't got laid in a month of Sundays
I caught him once and he was sniffin' my undies
He ain't too sharp but he gets things done
Drinks his beer like it's oxygen
He's my baby
And I'm his honey
Never gonna let him go
In spite of ourselves
We'll end up a'sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.
She thinks all my jokes are corny
Convict movies make her horny
She likes ketchup on her scrambled eggs
Swears like a sailor when shaves her legs
She takes a lickin'
And keeps on tickin'
I'm never gonna let her go.
He's got more balls than a big brass monkey
He's a whacked out weirdo and a lovebug junkie
Sly as a fox and crazy as a loon
Payday comes and he's howlin' at the moon
He's my baby I don't mean maybe
Never gonna let him go
In spite of ourselves
We'll end up a sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.
[Spoken:]
In spite of ourselves
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Jesus, The Missing Years
[Spoken:]
Jesus... the missing years
It was raining. It was cold
West Bethlehem was no place for a twelve year old
So he packed his bags and he headed out
To find out what the world's about
He went to France. He went to Spain
He found love. He found pain.
He found stores so he started to shop
But he had no money so he got in trouble with a cop
Kids in trouble with the cops
From Israel didn't have no home
So he cut his hair and moved to Rome
It was there he met his Irish bride
And they rented a flat on the lower east side of Rome...
Italy that is
Music publishers, book binders, Bible belters, Money Changers,
Spoon Benders and lots of pretty Italian chicks.
[Chorus:]
Charley bought some popcorn
Billy bought a car
Someone almost bought the farm
But they didn't go that far
Things shut down at midnight
At least around here they do
Cause we all reside down the block
Inside at....23 Skidoo.
Wine was flowing so were beers
So Jesus found his missing years
So He went to a dance and said "This don't move me"
He hiked up his pants and he went to a movie
On his thirteenth birthday he saw "Rebel without a Cause"
He went straight on home and invented Santa Claus
Who gave him a gift and he responded in kind
He gave the gift of love and went out of his mind
You see him and the wife wasn't getting along
So he took out his guitar and he wrote a song
Called "The Dove of Love Fell Off the Perch"
But he couldn't get divorced in the Catholic Church
At least not back then anyhow
Jesus was a good guy he didn't need this shit
So he took a pill with a bag of peanuts and
A Coca-Cola and he swallowed it.
He discovered the Beatles
And he recorded with the Stones
Once He even opened up a three-way package
In Southern California for old George Jones
[Chorus]
The years went by like sweet little days
With babies crying pork chops and beaujolais
When he woke up he was seventeen
The world was angry. The world was mean.
Why the man down the street and the kid on the stoop
All agreed that life stank. All the world smelled like poop
Baby poop that is..the worst kind
So he grew his hair long and threw away his comb
And headed back to Jerusalem to find Mom, Dad and home
But when he got there the cupboard was bare
Except for an old black man with a fishing rod
He said "Whatcha gonna be when you grow up?"
Jesus said "God"
Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?
I'm a human corkscrew and all my wine is blood
They're gonna kill me Mama. They don't like me Bud.
So Jesus went to Heaven and he went there awful quick
All them people killed him and he wasn't even sick
So come and gather around me my contemporary peers
And I'll tell you all the story of
Jesus...The Missing Years
[Chorus]
We all reside down the block
Inside at... 23 Skidoo.
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That's The Way That The World Goes 'Round
I know a guy that's got a lot to lose.
He's a pretty nice fellow but he's kind of confused.
He's got muscles in his head that ain't never been used.
Thinks he own half of this town.
Starts drinking heavy, gets a big red nose.
Beats his old lady with a rubber hose,
Then he takes her out to dinner and buys her new clothes.
That's the way that the world goes 'round.
That's the way that the world goes 'round.
You're up one day and the next you're down.
It's half an inch of water and you think you're gonna drown.
That's the way that the world goes 'round.
I was sitting in the bathtub counting my toes,
When the radiator broke, water all froze.
I got stuck in the ice without my clothes,
Naked as the eyes of a clown.
I was crying ice cubes hoping I'd croak,
When the sun come through the window, the ice all broke.
I stood up and laughed thought it was a joke
That's the way that the world goes 'round.
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Fish and Whistle Lyric Video
🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼 Grandpa Was A Carpenter Grandpa wore his suit to dinner
Nearly every day
No particular reason
He just dressed that way
Brown necktie and a matching vest
And both his wingtip shoes
He built a closet on our back porch
And put a penny in a burned out fuse.
[Chorus:]
Grandpa was a carpenter
He built houses stores and banks
Chain smoked Camel cigarettes
And hammered nails in planks
He was level on the level
And shaved even every door
And voted for Eisenhower
'Cause Lincoln won the war.
Well, he used to sing me
"Blood on the Saddle"
And rock me on his knee
And let me listen to radio
Before we got TV
Well, he'd drive to church on Sunday
And take me with him too!
Stained glass in every window
Hearing aids in every pew.
[Chorus]
Now my grandma was a teacher
Went to school in Bowling Green
Traded in a milking cow
For a Singer sewing machine
She called her husband "Mister"
And walked real tall and pride
And used to buy me comic books
After grandpa died.
[Chorus]
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Way Back Then
Night is falling
We're doing the things we do
You are acting just like me
I'm acting just like you
Do you remember
When you were my friend?
That's the way I'd like things
Just like way back then
Baby's sleeping
Brother is on the run
I am out undoing
All the good I've done
If you loved me
Tell you what I would do
Wrap the world in silver foil
Bring it home to you.
Lately I feel
That I can't pretend
I may never ever see
The likes of you again
I take a walk, I come back home
Then I sit a spell
Watch the ponies dance around
The empty wishing well.
Night has fallen
I've said the things I did
The only baby sleeping
Is when I was a kid
Do you remember
When you were my friend?
That's the way I'd like things
Just like way back then.
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Linda Goes To Mars
I just found out yesterday that Linda goes to Mars
Every time I sit and look at pictures of used cars
She'll turn on her radio and sit down in her chair
And look at me across the room, as if I wasn't there
[Chorus:]
Oh My stars! My Linda's gone to Mars
Well I wish she wouldn't leave me here alone
Oh My stars! My Linda's gone to Mars
Well, I wonder if she'd bring me something home.
Something, somewhere, somehow took my Linda by the hand
And secretly decoded our sacred wedding band
For when the moon shines down up on our happy, humble home
Her inner space gets tortured by some outer space unknown.
[Chorus]
Now I ain't seen no saucers 'cept the ones upon the shelf
And if I ever seen one I'd keep it to myself
For if there's life out there somewhere beyond this life on earth
Then Linda must have gone out there and got her money's worth.
[Chorus]
Yeah, I wonder if she'd bring me something home.
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Crazy As A Loon
Back before I was a movie star
Straight off of the farm
I had a picture of another man's wife
Tattooed on my arm
With a pack of Camel cigarettes
In the sleeve of my tee shirt
I'm headin' out to Hollywood
Just to have my feelings hurt
That town will make you crazy
Just give it a little time
You'll be walking 'round in circles
Down at Hollywood and Vine
You'll be waitin' on a phone call
At the wrong end of a broom
Yes, that town'll make you crazy
Crazy as a loon
So, I headed down to Nashville
To become a country star
Every night you'd find me hangin'
At every honky-tonk and bar
Pretty soon I met a woman
Pretty soon she done me wrong
Pretty soon my life got sadder
Than any country song
That town will make you crazy
Just give it a little time
You'll be walking 'round in circles
Lookin' for that country rhyme
You'll be waitin' on a phone call
At the wrong end of a broom
Yea, that town'll make you crazy
Crazy as a loon
So, I gathered up my savvy
Bought myself a business suit
I headed up to New York City
Where a man can make some loot
I got hired Monday morning
Downsized that afternoon
Overcome with grief that evening
Now I'm crazy as a loon
So I'm up here in the north woods
Just staring at a lake
Wondering just exactly how much
They think a man can take
I eat fish to pass the time away
'Neath this blue Canadian moon
This old world has made me crazy
Crazy as a loon
Lord, this world will make you crazy
Crazy as a loon
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Your Flag Decal Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore
While digesting Reader's Digest
In the back of a dirty book store,
A plastic flag, with gum on the back,
Fell out on the floor.
Well, I picked it up and I ran outside
Slapped it on my window shield,
And if I could see old Betsy Ross
I'd tell her how good I feel.
[Chorus:]
But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
They're already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
Well, I went to the bank this morning
And the cashier he said to me,
"If you join the Christmas club
We'll give you ten of them flags for free."
Well, I didn't mess around a bit
I took him up on what he said.
And I stuck them stickers all over my car
And one on my wife's forehead.
[Chorus]
Well, I got my window shield so filled
With flags I couldn't see.
So, I ran the car upside a curb
And right into a tree.
By the time they got a doctor down
I was already dead.
And I'll never understand why the man
Standing in the Pearly Gates said...
"But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
We're already overcrowded
From your dirty little war.
Now Jesus don't like killin'
No matter what the reason's for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more."
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The Bottomless Lake
Here's the story of a man and his family
And a big trip that they took
Well, I heard all about in a restaurant
And I read it in a history book
They rented a car at the Erie Canal
But the car didn't have no brake
Said Ma to Pa "My God this car"
"Is gonna fall into the Bottomless Lake"
Well, Mama turned to Daddy with a pale face
Said "I've done something horribly wrong"
"Well, the waters still runnin' in the bathtub"
And I think I left the kitchen light on"
Then I heard a crash the car when splash
And the compass rolled around and around
Oh, for Heaven's Sake! We fell in a lake
And I think we're all gonna drown
[Chorus:]
We are falling down
Down to the bottom of a hole in the ground
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
I'm so scared I can hardly breathe
I may never see my sweetheart again
There was plenty of food in the backseat
And the windows were rolled up tight
So we all nibbled on a chicken leg
Told stories 'way thru' the night
Well, Pa told one that he told before
And the baby got a bellyache
Said Ma to Pa "My God this car"
"Falling down a Bottomless Lake"
[Chorus]
Poppa played the music on the radio
Mama rocked the baby to sleep
He said he would've taken the other road
But he didn't think the lake was that deep
Well, if the ferry been there at the end of the pier
We'd be half way to Uncle Jake's
Instead of looking at fish out the window I wish
We'd hit the bottom of the Bottomless Lake
'Stead of looking at fish out the window I wish
We'd hit the bottom of the Bottomless Lake
So if you're ever goin' on a big trip
Ya better be careful out there
Start everything on you good foot
And wear clean underwear
Take along a Bible in the backseat
Read of David and Solomon
For if you make a mistake in the Bottomless Lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
If you should make a mistake in the Bottomless Lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
If you should make a mistake in the Bottomless Lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼 Souvenirs
All the snow has turned to water
Christmas days have come and gone
Broken toys and faded colors
Are all that's left to linger on
I hate graveyards and old pawn shops
For they always bring me tears
I can't forgive the way they rob me
Of my childhood souvenirs
[Chorus:]
Memories they can't be boughten
They can't be won at carnivals for free
Well it took me years
To get those souvenirs
And I don't know how they slipped away from me
Broken hearts and dirty windows
Make life difficult to see
That's why last night and this mornin'
Always look the same to me
I hate reading old love letters
For they always bring me tears
I can't forgive the way they rob me
Of my sweetheart's souvenirs
[Chorus]
John, you're in good company
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and a last one, that maybe captures this moment...
Well, maybe one more.
For further reading, I recommend-
A couple great articles written this past week, and one almost 50 years ago about John Prine.
The ebook, John Prine: In Spite of Himself by Eddie Huffman (2015). Here is the Kindle version for $13.99 that I just started reading yesterday and can't put down. Or, you can download an audio version from Audible (free with trial). (Again, thanks to Ken Forman for this recommendation.)
In 2000, even though I didn't know it, T Bone Burnett had entered my musical radar through the Coen brother's film, O Brother, Where Art Thou?I loved that movie and the music just jumped out and grabbed a lot of people, including me. I started listening to Alison Krauss and Gillian Welch, as I had similarly gotten turned on to people like Jesse Winchester and Shawn Colvin over the years, by my longtime friend Mark Hunter. Mark, a fantastic musician himself (see his band The Waits), was the first person to introduce me to the term Americana music. It inspired me to start listening to people like John Prine,Leo Kottke and EmmyLou Harris again after many years. But now, there is a great new generation of Americana artists' that are making their way to the airwaves, through no small feat of the master collaborator himself, T Bone Burnett.
T Bone Burnett has lifted Americana music to a state of popular consciousness by his genius and ability to assemble talented musicians and create some of the best music you can hear today. My awakening of Mr. Burnett, the man himself, was finally realized on the 2014 Showtime presentation of Another Day, Another Time: Celebrating the Music of 'Inside Llewyn Davis (see this link for future airing dates and On Demand - next showing, Feb. 4, at 8pm on Showtime). This documentary was a one time 2014 concert in New York City with background rehearsal sessions and interviews with Burnett and a host of Americana legends, stars and rising stars.
Here, I would like to feature my favorite song of that evening as this is one of those songs that just grabs your soul and doesn't let go for awhile. The song, I was Young When I Left Home was written by Bob Dylan and is performed here by Marcus Mumford. The documentary brings out the collaborative and creative process of Burnett, Mumford and cast of very talented players. This is simply beautiful and heartfelt as Marcus Mumford gives a memorable performance with Mr. Burnett's crafted guidance.
