Now Moving Along Quickly

Song 466: This week the playlist features the sound of Wabash Cannonball by Hank Thompson, written by A.P. Carter and William Kindt, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. During the 1960s, my family would visit the OH relatives for a couple of weeks in the summer every other year, and during our stays there, I would have free use of my aunt and uncle's stereo record player and their extensive country music stash. This cut became a quick favorite for both my older brother and me, and we would often sing along together with the track. The tune opened a very cool country hits collection which also included major numbers by Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, Kitty Wells, Patsy Cline, etc., and I'm not clear at this point if the version of this song on the LP was the Hank Thompson one. I remember the recording as having more of a bluegrass flavor than the video I linked to here, but I also know that HT did have a bluegrass version as well, which featured backup by a group called His Brazos Valley Boys. I used to have a link to a YT video of that one, but it no longer lives where it once did, and I could not find another link to a video of it. Regardless of the specific details, though, it still sounds good to listen to the jingle, the rumble and the roar, to hear the might rush of the engine and the lonesome hobo's call.

A Strong Desire to Move

Song 465: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week the playlist features All I Want to Do is Dance by my buddy John Sonntag, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I hung out with John a lot back around the turn of the 1990s, to the point where we even considered forming a musical partnership. This cut appears on his 1996 album One More Midnight and I remember him performing it a few times during appearances at small clubs and coffeehouses a number of years before the CD release. I thought the tune sounded pretty good then, with just his voice and acoustic guitar, and when I hear it now, All I Want to Do is Dance. Perhaps I'm not supposed to feel this way, but then, there ain't nothing here to hide, so maybe I should take someone in my arms and sway, and maybe you might want to do that as well when you listen to the track.

A Warning About Dangerous Places

Song 464: This week on the playlist you can hear Don’t Go Near the Water by Sammy Kershaw, written by Chapin Hartford and Jim Foster, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. The New Country bunch promoted by the NYC country music station that I listened to in the early 1990s sounded to me like an updated version of the mid-1970s country rock scene, with this entertaining 45 being a prime example. I liked it so much that I got a copy of the record, and when I acquired my first iPod a decade and a half later, I soon created a playlist of favorite 1990s tracks which included this one. To this day, I still enjoy being reminded that with a lover, you can fall right in way over your head, and you can sho 'nuff get your feet wet, but you don't have to go near the water to do so.

Attempting to Allow Movement

Song 463: This week the playlist comes around to Let It Ride by Bachman-Turner Overdrive, written by Randy Bachman and Fred Turner, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. When this single came along in the spring of 1974, I had a pretty good steady gig playing piano at a pizza joint in Atlanta, GA. The gig lasted for a few months, and during the chart run of this 45, the weather that spring was really nice there, plus, I lived in a decent, inexpensive apartment that was half of the first floor of a house. The building had a good porch for sitting and playing guitar, and the quiet side street didn't pose any serious risk to my 2 cats, so I have plenty of pleasant, warm, sunny memories linked to this cut. For example, one of the first things I noticed when I moved there was hearing the birds singing outside my bedroom window in the morning when I woke up, which I certainly hadn't heard in Chicago. However, one bad thing did happen there one evening - after I had walked to the end of the block, and crossed the busy main street at the corner, I looked back at my place and saw the female cat of the bother/sister duo headed my way, and I couldn't stop her. As she crossed the road, a van hit her, knocking her to the pavement, and then passing over her without the wheels or any other part of the vehicle touching her. After the van passed over her, she got up and ran by me into the park that I had entered, disappearing around a nearby culvert. I called her name and searched for her in vain. After a while, I gave up and went back to my place. I came back 15 minutes later, called her name and searched for her, and again got no result. I did that twice more, and indeed, the third time was the charm. Expecting nothing, when I called her name that time, she meowed her reply, and I finally found her. I carried her back home, and she never showed any physical problems from that incident, but in her mind, she clearly couldn't Let It Ride. Following that episode, her behavior was never quite the way it had been before, and I was grateful that she hadn't suffered any physical harm, but I also knew that no matter how much we might try, try, try, she would never Let It Ride.

Treasuring a Piece of the Past

Song 462: This week the playlist recognizes Those Were the Days by Mary Hopkin, written by Boris Fomin and Gene Raskin, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I graduated HS 50 years ago, in June of 1969, and during the fall of my senior year, this 45 had gotten a lot of spins from the local station. It seemed to fit my final HS year quite well, and it also seems to fit the 50th anniversary. When it came out, Gene Raskin got credit for the composition, and I only recently learned that in the early 1960s he had actually written new English lyrics for a Russian song from decades earlier. During its chart run, I really liked the sound of this record, which Paul McCartney had produced, though I didn't then consider myself much of a folk music fan, so perhaps it's not that surprising that within a couple of years I became much more of a folkie, both as an artist and a listener. While in my friend circle we did not meet in a tavern, we might sometimes raise a glass or two (of soda), and we often laughed away the hours and dreamed of all the great things we would do, certain that we'd sing and dance forever and a day, we'd live the life we choose, we'd fight and never lose, for we were young and sure to have our way. Of course, then the years went rushing by us and we lost our starry notions on the way, but I will also admit that in my heart, the dreams are still the same - not all of them, but a few of the major ones.