What Did Happen to Johnny's Cash?

Song 218: This week marks Johnny Cash's first appearance on this playlist with Folsom Prison Blues, and it's also my second sly reference to the first verse of my song As Long as Merle is Still Haggard, which opens with the line Now Pam Tillis the truth now, what happened to Johnny's Cash? (the Pam Tillis record Don't Tell Me What to Do being the first sly ref, as Song 210). Long before I understood the meaning of rock and roll, I knew or at least recognized a number of country songs, having heard them at the homes of relatives and family friends, and though my family didn't actively listen to any music other than church music, the parents didn't as a rule object to me hearing country tunes, contrary to how they would react as my interest in RnR developed. I don't remember the first time I heard this track, but I got to recognize it well before my teen years, and my father did mention that he had some concerns with his sons learning a song about a man who shot someone just to watch the person die, though Dad didn't turn off the radio or tell us not to listen to the tune. In a much later era, the song popped up on the local hit radio station in the summer before my final year of high school, as an updated and up-tempo live version (actually recorded At Folsom Prison) of a golden oldie that, despite its subject matter, seemed tame compared to the latest new stuff rocking the transistors. Then moving to a much later era again, in the mid-'80s, if I really did play bass in a country bar pick-up band, as the rumor goes, then it's quite possible that I could have been spotted singing lead on this song and guiding the rest of the crew through the changes -- if someone says they saw me do it, they might be telling the truth. On a side note, I feel I should mention that according to the Wickipedia page for this song, while JC did write the piece, apparently he borrowed very heavily from a 1953 track called Crescent City Blues by Gordon Jenkins, to such an extent that in the early 1970s he actually payed Mr. Jenkins a settlement of around $75,000. On a second side note, doing the As Long as Merle is Still Haggard video in 1995, for the Johnny Cash line I wanted to have the Rolling Stone calendar picture of JC hanging nearby and clearly visible in the scene where Herb looks at me and shakes his head, but my friend (engineer and co-producer) David Seitz told me that I could get sued if I didn't get clearance from the photographer who took the shot. A quick phone call informed me that the photographer's permission would cost about $1,000, so you don't see JC's calendar photo in the video, or any other major pictures of those named in the song. I had thought of various ways to include images of country singers in the video, such as flashing some of their album covers in the scene where Keith throws a bunch in the garbage can (and I come back and take them out), but for the final cut, I made sure we didn't include any footage where those covers could be clearly seen, because I didn't feel like asking for trouble, having learned long ago what usually happens when you do. By the way, you can catch the As Long as Merle is Still Haggard video here.

The Sweet Days of Summer Are Almost Gone

Song 217: With fall just 2 days away, today I posted the song Summer Breeze by Seals and Crofts (who also wrote the tune), since the sweet days of summer are almost gone. This track came across the radio like a cool breath of fresh air during the warmer months of 1972, and in that sweaty Chicago summer, I remember noticing a special summer breeze once or twice on a hot day, and connecting it with this song. I also liked that interesting and somewhat familiar sound in the middle section (sweet days of summer...) but didn't realize that it came from a child's toy piano. I did wonder, though, about the line When I come home from a hard day's work, as I was all caught up in the music business hype and didn't understand the realities of music business economics. I didn't consider musician work, whether recording, performing, doing interviews or whatever, as particularly hard work, but listening to the song, I also got the impression that the singer wasn't referring to musician work. After I heard a couple of other tracks from the Summer Breeze album, it sounded like a good investment, and the first time through the LP I felt pretty good about buying it. I picked up on a bit of a religious angle from some of the lyrics, but I sensed that it didn't come from any of the traditional Judeo/Christian branches. The early 1970s saw quite an expansion in the variety of religious messages attracting attention, and I soon learned that Jim Seals and Dash Crofts were followers of the Baha'i faith. I then discovered that the city where I lived (Evanston, IL) actually had its own Baha'i temple, and was one of the U.S. centers of the faith. I think this discovery happened when my childhood best buddy (the one who I wrote the song So Long Friend for) came to visit me, because during that stay, he made a pilgrimage up to the north end of town to see the temple, as a recent convert to the faith, though a few years later he drifted away from religion, into agnosticism. Unlike my friend, S & C doubled down on their faith, retiring from the music business to focus on religious work. I won't comment on the wisdom of either move, but simply say that listening to Summer Breeze still makes me feel fine. On a side note, you can click the title of my tune So Long Friend to find a lyric video on YouTube.

Long Distance Information

Song 216: This week's playlist track is Memphis by Johnny Rivers, written by Chuck Berry. After the Beatles rocked my world in the middle of the winter of '64, spring followed with a bunch of English bands doing more of this magical rock and roll stuff, along with the Fab 4, and things were still rocking in the summer, when a guy from our side of the pond got to the top ten with a rocker that sounded like it had been recorded live, as indeed it had. That summer, I knew nothing about Chuck Berry or the fact that this song predated the whole British Invasion, but I did know that it sounded like rock and roll, and stood up pretty well alongside all of those English tracks I was hearing on the radio. At some point during the warm weather my family visited the relatives in Ohio, as had been our routine, and I still remember the day my cousin Jim walked in, from whatever he'd been up to, and put this single on the turntable. He was a few years older than me, and I think he was headed towards his senior year, so we didn't do much together or have a whole lot in common, but at that moment, it was clear to me that he shared my love of rock and roll. At the time Jim still wore the '50s-style D.A. haircut, which to me seemed a bit dated, but his record collection was obviously up-to-date. Actually, what wasn't up-to-date at that time was the lyric idea about calling long distance information, which had been the reality a few years earlier when CB wrote and recorded the song, for by the time JR's record hit the charts, direct dial LD had already appeared, but even so, the words still somehow sounded perfectly contemporary. On a side note, if you read the Wickipedia article related to this record, you may discover, as I did, a story by someone who used to work for Elvis in which the story-teller asserts that The King actually recorded his version of this Chuck Berry classic and played the demo for Johnny Rivers before he'd gotten to the final mix, whereupon Rivers, who liked the approach so well, copped the arrangement, getting a record released and to the top of the charts before the Elvis mix was done, and apparently in the process ending whatever friendship the 2 singers might have had. The record business has a bottomless vault of old stories like this, and only the people who were there know which of those tales are true, so I personally have no idea about the validity of this yarn, and even if I could call long distance information, they wouldn't have that kind of information.

Coming Right Out and Saying It

Song 215: Following last week's playlist song about the love of rock and roll, this week's song has the same theme, but actually comes right out and says it -- I Love Rock and Roll by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts, written by Alan Merrill and Jake Hooker. My first thought when I heard this record for the first time on the radio, though, was, "Where are the jukeboxes that only cost a dime for a song?" Of course, the answer was that they were long gone with the mid-'70s, but I soon learned that Joan's record was a cover of a mid-'70s track, which explained where the line "Put another dime in the jukebox, baby" came from. It didn't surprise me to learn that the song was a cover, because the line about the person dancing by the record machine looking to be about 17 sounded to me like a lyric coming more from a male angle than a female one, but that don't matter... 'cause it's all the same. What does matter is that I Love Rock and Roll and so does Joan Jett -- you can tell that she does by the way she sings this song.