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Discussion in 'Fred's Barcalounge' started by hippdog, Oct 27, 2020.
“The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carol”.
Tweeter & the Monkey Man by The Traveling Wilburys from their 1988 debut. Definitely a Gretsch connection.
Paul Kelly- How To Make Gravy from the EP of the same name released in 1996
Not a favourite or even a favourite genre but I think it qualifies, Jeannie C Riley, 'Harper Valley PTA'?
D-I-V-O-R-C-E Tammy Wynette? Frank Sinatra - One For The Road?
He did a lot of research before he wrote the song to make sure it was accurate. Great song
"Coat of Many Colors" One of my favorite Dolly songs.
Album: "Just Because I'm a Woman"
What an awesome weird song
The 70s were known for story songs
Just a few:
The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia
Blind Man in the Bleachers
Run Joey Run
Spiders n Snakes
My Girl Bill
Escape (Pina Colada Song)
No doubt - he did a really amazing job of wording it both poetically and accurately. Just one of the best songs of all time and I also think Gordon Lightfoot is somewhat forgotten and underrated.
Okay - I'm stretching the rules and doing "two at a time" since there was a limit of two:
"Hurricane" - the story of Hurricane Carter the boxer
"Done with Bonaparte" - about a French soldier during the Napoleonic wars. In an interview, he mentioned researching it to get accurate town names etc.
I mentioned Fortunate Son.. here is footage to go with that. Some of you guys might relate. I have quite a few hours myself
Songfacts has a good quote from Fogerty on "Run Through the Jungle" which apparently wasn't about Vietnam.
Totally aware of that. Fact is songs mean what we want them to mean. Pretty sure anyone who was in 'Nam related to this. All the guys I flew with sure did.
They mean what they mean, yes. But the writer didn't write it with that in mind is what I meant.
Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song
Love unrequited, robs me of me rest,
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers,
Love, nightmare like, lies heavy of me chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers.
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache and
repose is taboo'd by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you choose to
indulge in, without impropriety;
For your brain is on fire, the bed-clothes conspire of
usual slumber to plunder you:
First your counter-pane goes, and uncovers your toes,
and your sheet slips demurely from under you;
Then the blanketing tickles, you feel like mixed Pickles,
so terribly sharp is the pricking,
And you're hot and you're cross, and you tumble and toss
'til there's nothing 'twixt you and the Ticking.
Then the bed-clothes all creep to the ground in a heap
and you pick 'em all up in a tangle;
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to
remain at it's usual angle!
Well, you get some repose in the form of a dose, with
hot eye-balls and head ever aching,
But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams
that you'd very much better be waking;
For you dream you are crossing the channel, and
tossing about in a steamer from Harwich,
Which is something between a large bathing machine and
a very small second class carriage,
And you're giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to
a party of friends and relations,
They're a ravenous horde, and they all come on board
at Sloane Square and South Kensington stations.
And bound on that journey you find your attorney
(who started this morning from Devon);
He's a bit undersiz'd and you don't feel surpris'd
when he tells you he's only eleven.
Well you're driving like mad with this singular lad
(by the bye the ship's now a four wheeler),
And you're playing round games, and he calls you bad
names when you tell him that "ties pay the dealer";
But this you can't stand so you throw up your hands,
and you find you're as cold as an icicle;
In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold
Clocks) crossing sal'sbury plain on a bicycle:
And he and the crew are on bicycles too, which they've
somehow or other invested in,
And he's telling the tars all the particulars of a
company he's interested in;
It's a scheme of devices, to get at low prices, all
good from cough mixtures to cables
(which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers as
though they were all vegetables;
You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman
(first take off his boots with a boot tree),
And his legs will take root, and his fingers willshoot,
and they'll blossom and bud like a fruit Tree;
From the green grocer tree you get grapes and green
peas, cauliflower, pine apple and cranberries,
While the pastry cook plant cherry brandy will grant,
apple puffs, and three corners, and banburys;
The shares are a penny and ever so many are taken by
Rothschild and Baring,
And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake,
and with a shudder despairing
You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and
No wonder you snore, for your head's on the floor
And you've needles and pins from your soles to your shins,
and your flesh is acreep, for your left leg's asleep,
And you've cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose,
and some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue,
And a thirst that's intense,
And a general sense that you haven't been sleeping in clover;
But the darkness has passed, and it's daylight at last,
and the night has been long, ditto, ditto my song,
And thank goodness they're both of them over!
Two for one...
You guys both beat me to the Marty Robbins post. That whole albums is full of stories from beginning to end.
Another one that comes to mind is Bales of Cocain by Reverend Horton Heat
This was such an interesting thread--I had to jump back in and reset my password to log in and post--
So the limit is 2--
I'll lead with what I call the saddest song I ever heard--and the writer once wrote that his songs aren't sad--they're hopeless--I think this song proves it--
Townes Van Zandt
Live at Amsterdam 1991
The other(s)? are a long list of Kenny Rogers songs
But "Ohio", which has been mentioned, IS the story of an Era
And Yes, Neil plays a white Falcon, But as most folks here know, Gretsch sold a Steven Stills "signature White Falcon"--