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the-vandals-handle · 3 months

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Welcome to the final installment of The Thousand Highways Collection. The previous volume of this series, Another Night Volume One, established the formula for this volume - a compilation of assorted curiosities and notable performances that did not make it onto more thematically coherent titles. Volume Two has some real humdingers, so open up those ears and listen in.

"Two Trains Running" is an old Muddy Waters track, and Dylan does it justice in this early solo performance from Montreal's Finjan Club. As with many of the singer's earliest uptempo songs, he powers along the tempo with a rhythmic tapping that's luckily been preserved by this crisp recording.

"Not Fade Away" is another cover, this time originating with Buddy Holly. Holly had been quite influential to the young Bob Dylan, as indicated by the Martin Scorcese's 2005 documentary, No Direction Home. Still, few of Holly's own compositions had been played by Dylan over the years. The Never-Ending Tour altered this, though, and a number of Holly's tracks entered the setlist between 1988 and 2016; none appeared more often, though, than the heavily rhythmic "Not Fade Away." This rendition from the much-loved Tramps show in 1999 is particularly well-executed.

"Jokerman" was the lead song on 1983's Infidels, and became quite a classic in its own right. This alternative version offers a very different vocal performance and a handful of lyrical variants. Instrumentally, it's quite similar to the final version.

"If You See Her, Say Hello" may sound familiar, as a roughly identical arrangement appeared on an earlier Thousand Highways compilation covering rehearsals from 1971 to 1989. This version, though, features a slightly more prominent harpsichord and violin, which improves the strangely baroque sound of the arrangement. It's a shame this didn't stay in the set past the first weeks of 1978's World Tour.

"Blackjack Davey" was one of the standout songs on Good As I Been To You in 1992, but only appeared live the following year. It's a very old song, and was also performed by Bob Dylan at the start of his career in 1961. Like "Barbara Allen" to "Scarlet Town," "Blackjack Davey" served as an inspiration for "Tin Angel" on Dylan's Tempest record from 2012. This arrangement is interesting, since live versions from 1993 are the only time when Dylan played the song with (limited) instrumental backing.

"Tom Turkey" is an outtake from 1973's Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid. Like other songs recorded for that soundtrack, it's effectively an excerpt from the "Billy" narrative with some unique instrumentation. Mostly instrumental, it includes only two verses of the "Billy" along with some intriguing harmonica fills.

"Shake" was an original Bob Dylan composition based roughly on Roy Head's "Treat Her Right." It was played briefly in 1985 and 1986 at the first Farm Aid show and on tour with Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. This is the clearest recording, though even here the lyrics seem unfinished. It's quite groovy, if nothing else.

"The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll" is one of only a handful of performances of this song from my favorite Bob Dylan touring year - 1981. Like most of the year, it features a compelling, rich vocal performance and a loose arrangement.

"Gates Of Eden" was played very rarely from 1965 to 1988, and one of the finest outings for the song was as a solo performance in 1978. This spot of the setlist was typically reserved for "It Ain't Me, Babe," but other classic 1960s tracks featured a few times, including "Fourth Time Around" and "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall." Unfortunately, only "Gates Of Eden" was preserved with a lovely recording. Luckily, the performance is excellent.

"1952 Vincent Black Lightning" barely saw the light of day. It was recorded by an intrepid amateur taper in 2013, and only began to circulate two years later in a handful of alternative mixes. There are some chatty audience members near the tape recorder, but they do little to reduce the passion of this unique one-time performance of Richard Thompson's motorcycle epic.

"You Really Got A Hold On Me" was played by Bob Dylan and Bette Midler in the midst of a recording session for Midler's Songs For The New Depression. Much of the session consists of shaky takes on a rewrite of "Buckets Of Rain," but the two spontaneously burst into an equally shaky (yet delightful) performance of this Smokey Robinson gem. Bob Dylan has spoken of his admiration for Robinson, but this is one of the only times he played a song written by that American icon.

"The Mighty Quinn" is one of the most celebrated songs from The Basement Tapes, but the writer only sang it live a few times over the past fifty years. Other versions can be found elsewhere on The Thousand Highways Collection, but this is the only time that the song featured Dylan's excellent backing band harmonizing as it did on bluegrass classics from 1998 to 2002.

"Simple Twist Of Fate" is a heartbreaking song, but rarely has it been performed with the pathos instilled on this night in Hattiesburg during the Rolling Thunder Revue. It sounds fairly similar to the style used to great effect earlier in the tour on "If You See Her, Say Hello," though this song is not nearly as re-written as its Blood On The Tracks companion.

"Sidewalks, Fences & Walls" did not circulate for decades, but this outtake from Down In The Groove finally appeared in the taper community during the 2000s. It's a straightforward soul song infused with depth by a passionate vocal performance. The sound is less than stellar, as it only circulates as a fairly compromised lossy recording, but we should be grateful that it appeared at all.

"Like A Rolling Stone" is my favorite rendition of a Bob Dylan classic. It's not quite as tight as earlier performances from the 1981 tour, but it makes up for that looseness with one of Dylan's most inventive, passionate, shredded vocal tracks you'll ever hear. You can point to moments like this as one of the reasons that the singer's voice deepened and lost some of the range it displayed in the 1970s, but at least we received incredible recordings like this one from the singer pushing his art outside of his comfort zone.

"Forever Young," a sentimental song written by the singer for his child, is as appropriate an ending as you could ask for on this long listening journey. Happily, it features one of Dylan's unique lead guitar performances and a touching harmonica solo.

#bob dylan #daily dylan #bob dylan records #dylan records #bootleg #Dylan Bootleg

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tyrantzeye · 1 year

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oc infodump hour!!! bc its a thing now!!!! itsukis revised backstory + itsuki playlist promo cuz why not ⬇️

ok so like shes a frozen egg baby n was born as like half indigenous hawaiian (moms side) half south korean (dads side) in hawaii yk n her mom is in a pretty good place rn but eventually her mom begins to erode her brain due to drugs and whatnot so itsuki has to move to a foster home in the mainland and also on the cusp of a bad neighborhood like that transitional spot as like a 3 yr old

anyways shes scared n shaky n notices that other kids talk ab having dads n shes like 'huh' so she goes and begs to the caretakers or smth 2 get a dna test n she finds out her dad was this south korean who was in a rlly bad spot but wanted 2 help something n so he moves to america specifically oregon n donates his sperm 2 like a bank n stuff yk??

at this time (itsukis like 10, bouncing between foster homes) she runs away to go find him n js gathers up all her loose savings and runs, makes money off of panhandling, shoplifts, n teaches herself basic middle school math and reading and whatnot through books at fhe library, and learns to play the HELL out of a harmonica so she can maybe earn money. eventually she gets in a fight n has to defend herself, right, n it leads to her pursuing a life of streetfighting after learning that it could make her pretty good money if fears plays ixs cards right so she can keep looking 4 ixs dad

her specialties with fighting are speed and agility, but if she needs to ix can.throw a good punch. shes pretty strong, despite fears size (given size has nothing to do with actual strength, u can still be skinny and not muscley n still strong), but prefers to hold back on actual physical violence unless necessary yk??

itsuki also grows her affinity to fire, spiders, strawberries, and destruction - she also dyes fears hair black instead of brown (which is now fading)..at this time she also kind of gains that standoffish but soft inside personality of hers

ok so now itsukis like, 14, right, n ix is rlly close to her dads supposed location n shes in like northern california n is looking all around n she just hops on a bus and goes directly to oregon n after a year she finds fears dad n hes rlly shocked to see this teenager covered in scars and bandages and is like "who r u" n shes like "im ur kid from that time u donated to the sperm bank" n fear tells him her whole story n her dad lets ix stay there n has her go bavk to school n shes like RLLY STUPID cuz she stopped school at 5th grade right but still tried to read barely so shes the oldest kid in 7th grade but after a while ix gets the hang of shit and skips to where shes supposed to be and saves up money and buys two pet spiders (midari and aya) and transitions xuz she yk finally has the resources yk(mtf) and some other room decor stuff but bc of this her dad kicks her out cuz midaris a HUGE spider n itsuki js lets midari roam about but still takes care of her yk???? so he kicks her out n is like "i can fo this bc i kinda signed away my patrnal rights" n gives her a bus ticket back to california n now shes travelling the world n living in diffferent alleyways n making money off of streetfighting + the harmonica

btw imo the best song to explain itsuki is the waitress by atmosphere... or american heathcare by penelope scott...self promo 4 the sook plylst https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7EKjIIQc47772MNnMDMTYt?si=GuytLe0bRxKI13zHW9WCJw

#SORRY I LITERALLY REFUSE TI USE GRAMMAR💀💀#itsuki kane #astridsocs #oc #shitty writing #camille oc infodump hour #theres probably also a point in there where macabre and marshmellows fits in (only cool girls know...gender neutral)

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whitejeweler · 2 years

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Welcome to Music Monday when we bring you classic tunes with jewelry, gemstones or precious metals in the title or lyrics. Today, Hank Williams Jr. tells the story of his 700-mile Southwestern odyssey in a 1975 song called “Clovis, New Mexico.”

Williams recounts how he and his bronc-riding pal, Billy, head out on a very-low-budget adventure that takes them from Bossier City, LA, to Abilene, TX, and finally to Clovis, NM, where Williams is smitten by a black-haired beauty with green eyes — who just happens to be the local purveyor of silver and turquoise jewelry.

He sings, “I needed some strings / Billy wanted a ring / The kind that the Indians made / A voice said hello boys / I’ve got silver and turquoise / And that’s when I saw her face.”

Williams’ trek in an old pickup truck was not scheduled to end up in Clovis, but that’s where he falls in love with a gal he calls “Baby.” He describes her as a “born thriller,” who had a talent for writing lines to songs he couldn’t complete.

“Clovis, New Mexico” was the sixth track on the country singer’s critically acclaimed, breakthrough 1975 album, Hank William, Jr. & Friends. Allmusic editor Thom Jurek wrote that Williams’ release was “one of the best country-rock albums ever made and stands with the best of the outlaw recordings of the era.” It was originally released in 1975 and then re-released in 2000.

Critics claim that the album marks a critical period in Williams’ career when his music veers toward country rock and he develops his own style instead of imitating his famous dad, Hank Williams Sr.

Williams is also a talented musician who can play the guitar, bass guitar, upright bass, steel guitar, banjo, dobro, piano, keyboards, harmonica, fiddle and drums. He was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2020.

Born in Shreveport, La., Williams was given the nickname Bocephus as an infant by his dad, who died tragically in 1953 at the age of 29. (Grand Ole Opry fans may remember that Bochephus was the name of the ventriloquist’s dummy that co-starred with comedian Rod Brasfield.)

The 72-year-old is still actively touring, with engagements scheduled in 14 states from the end of May through the middle of August.

We hope you enjoy the audio track of Williams’ performance of “Clovis, New Mexico.” The lyrics are below if you’d like to sing along…

“Clovis, New Mexico” Written and performed by Hank Williams, Jr.

Well me and Billy We left Bossier City Decided that we’d head out west Been east and south But it didn’t workout We were getting’ nowhere fast Me with my guitar And him with his saddle Tryin’ to out do the rest I sang my heart out And he rides them broncs now And that’s what me and Billy do best.

We took interstate 20 ‘Til we ran out of money In a place just past Abilene So I sang at a honky-tonk And he broke the bad bronc And we bought some gas and some beans.

With a whole lot of luck And an old pickup truck We made it to New Mexico We pulled up in Clovis And I sure didn’t know this Was as far as I ever would go.

I needed some strings Billy wanted a ring The kind that the Indians made A voice said hello boys I’ve got silver and turquoise And that’s when I saw her face.

That’s when I noticed That girl down in Clovis A black haired beauty She set a fire to me A green eyed lady In old jeans that were faded No I didn’t notice What happened in Clovis But I called her baby.

I asked her with care If she’d like to share An evening with someone like I I said I ain’t a winner Just a hard livin’ singer She smiled and said meet me at nine We ate tacos and talked And then we took a walk In the clean southwestern air Then we went back to her house I took my guitar out And sang of my joy and despair.

She served me her wine And she helped me write lines To songs I could not complete And her eyes seemed to say Put that guitar away That’s somethin’ that both of us need.

What a beautiful site Was her face in the light And the candles there on the wall And we reached the height Of good love on that night And I hope we never will part.

And I’m glad I noticed That girl down in Clovis Daughter of a driller She’s a born thriller A green eyed lady Kinda wild, kinda lazy I didn’t notice What happened in Clovis But I called her baby. Baby.

Credit: Photo by Andrea Klein, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

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broomsticks · 2 years

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wolfstar fic recs (hpfc discord 2021 christmas feast edition)

the appetizer/a quick one shot: Fade to Dust by snowpoppies. Remus and Sirius die together at the Battle of Hogwarts, and wake up in a strange place they have both been to before, but have never been to together. such a lovely idea and pulled off so well.

the main course/a >100k-word epic: I mean... really it's ATYD. first wolfstar, first long hp fic, so many firsts. but if I had to pick something else it'd be rosie_rues's Rising Storm series, especially As Red As Hearts And Autumn. It's the autumn of Sixth Year, there's a flu epidemic at Hogwarts, and the Blacks want their heir back.

the gravy/a guilty pleasure: letters, summer 1976 by templeg, i like epistolary with gratuitous literary references ok

the starch/a solid well-written basic: I look at the world and I notice it's turning by kaydeefalls. canon-compliant wolfstar and remadora told through timejumping vignettes, with some really clever wordplay

dinner rolls/something wholesome: Lord of Misrule by victoria_p/ musesfool. OOTP christmas (w/ MWPP flashbacks), Harry finds out about wolfstar

the jello/something weird but fun: Goose on the Loose by newdog14. mwpp hogwarts era, a prank goes wrong & soulmate-identifying geese appear in the school

green bean casserole/porn with plot: Quintuple Meter by @krethes. musicians!AU with the sexiest freakin cello. "Sirius knows magic isn't real—that's the stuff of story books and fevered dreams—but now, watching Remus play, he reconsiders his convictions." Pianist Sirius Black has worked his entire life for this opportunity and considers himself a master of his craft. Remus Lupin, the most sought-after cellist in Europe, proves him wrong.

the comfort food/something you keep rereading: Harmonicas, Hinky-punks, and Heather by @squidgilator. Sirius and Remus get stranded in Scotland on Order business, and decide to walk to Hogwarts. Featuring the Brontës, a harmonica, a shrinking tent, and some self-discovery. the most adorable just-post-Hogwarts pining and get-together!

the dessert/something sweet & extra fluffy: ...And They Were Hallmates! (Oh My God They Were Hallmates). modern!au roommate meet-cute, so ridiculously cute.

some i-was-indecisive extras:

one-shot: October 30, 1981 by Penknife / The Waking Years by montparnasse (Remus pre-POA)

epic: A Taste of Honey by biremus (bakeoff!AU)

guilty pleasure: khrōma by @femme--de--lettres ('i didn't see colors until you' soulmate!AU)

well-written basic: The things that lurk in the dark by TheDivineComedian (the sixth year boggart one)

wholesome: in his arms i must stay (orphaned) (sirius lives DH canon-divergence)

weird but fun: Applied Theory @lunapwrites’ magic-academia!AU

reread: The archivist @wanderingbandurria’s wizarding historian!AU

sweet and fluffy: A Store of Happiness by coyotesuspect (POA alternate ending) / Not In Front Of the Dog! by Engie_Ivy / The Active Reader by veeagainst

#hp fics #fic rec list #wolfstar #marauders #remadora #leftsidedown tag #my fic recs

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years

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Ya know, I truly hope Miss Renesmee Carlie Cullen fully dedicates herself to just....being as out there and iconic as possible

first things first- ANYTHING with the loch ness monster on it, she owns. Posters, shirts, jackets, shoes, folders, buttons, iron-ons, there is always at least 5 pieces of Nessie merch on her at all times

once she gets old enough to start high school, the cover story is her and Edward are siblings that Carlisle and Esme took in, and sometimes her classmates will ask her what her biological parents were like and she will flat out be like 'oh, they're vampires' and Edward and Bella are like. 5 feet away trying not to scream

every Halloween she'll show up to school in an elaborate Nosferatu costume

goes out of her way to photobomb people in increasingly ridiculous ways so there will Always be a photographic record of her and in like 100 years she can get a huge kick out of teens on the internet trying to make a conspiracy about her

joins as many school clubs as she can, even if she has no interest in them- she just Really wants a concrete record of herself to exist lmao

ICONIC at school theater though. One of those demon theater kids that come to rehearsal purely to cause chaos and nothing else, but her voice is incredible so she secures every lead. One time she somehow managed to star in a show while also playing in the school band for it- her classmates still have no idea how she pulled it off

Always brings blood out in public in a CLEAR THERMOS and it stresses her family out so much but everyone else thinks she's just like, weirdly into tomato juice so the Cullens can't stop her

to everyone's surprise...her biggest chaos enabler is Jasper lmao. everyone thought he'd be a logical, responsible uncle but they're just. A Problem together. He'll 100% assist her in any prank she wants to pull, he gets her fake id's when she wants to sneak into a club with friends, he bails her out of jail without telling her parents, they figured out if she gets high and he reads her feelings he'll get high too and it's. So fucking funny.

she's always carrying some random instrument around school- like for a while it's a guitar or a harmonica, fine, but then she'll start lugging a cello around, a tuba (she doesn't even play, she stole it off a guy who was annoying her) and it escalates until one day she's wheeling a piano around the building. no one's even sure how she got in in the doors of the school. She keeps running kids over in the hallway with it

You know the Catherine Tate Lauren Cooper skit with David Tennant? Where she's being a terrible student and then perfectly recites Shakespeare? 100% Nessie

when she starts getting dates Jacob keeps trying to wing man and be over supportive and give her a ton of girl advice and it's embarrassing as hell so one day when he was on a spiel about How To Woo A Lady she looks him in the eyes and goes 'oh really? did that work on my mom?' and the Cullens fucking LOSE IT. Jacob had to go live in the woods for a few days because he couldn't cope

Emmet and Jasper: arrive to school in their jeep. Rose and Alice: arrive in a convertible. Edward: arrives in his dumb volvo. Bella and Jake: arrive to school on motorcycles. Nessie: arrives to school on a unicycle while juggling

one year she ended up getting nominated for prom queen and Edward read the minds of the teachers tallying the votes so he knew she won and he and Bella were so excited!! they're like we're gonna take so many pictures of our baby looking like a princess! And then she emerges from her room, actually drenched in pigs blood. Like she just did it to herself and went to the dance and accepted her crown like that

she regularly commits crimes against fashion. If she comes out of her room and sees Alice contemplating turning herself over to the Volturi, she KNOWS she's picked a great look

somehow gets ahold of Aro's cell number and sends him selfies of her blatantly breaking vampire laws captioned 'whatcha gonna do'. he keeps blocking her but she keeps managing to get through to him somehow

she illegally sells soda out of her locker and does people's homework for cash, while also paying other people to do her homework for her. she organizes every single senior prank. she's never gotten a detention in her whole immortal life because every teacher just Adores her for some reason

had 100% used her powers for deserved evil before. Like, if someone's being a dick at school, she'll sneak into their room at night and give them nightmarea threatening them to be a better person lol

sometimes she'll show up at the hospital unannounced and ask Carlisle, in front of his coworkers, 'yo can I raid the blood bank?'

her bedroom looks like a library. every wall, floor to ceiling books.

she's been publishing trashy romance novels under a fake name for almost 40 years now and no one in her family knows

one birthday Jacob takes her on a trip to vegas and they get wasted, at some point they were laughing about how ridiculous their lives are and they're like 'wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if we had a baby'. they then black out, hangover style, and wake up like a week later with a payment on her card to a fertility clinic. Jacob's like 😱 and Ness is just like 'you get to be the one to explain this to my parents'

Their kid is absolutely hilarious, they were correct, and at some point they realized 'wait...drinks blood..doesn't sparkle...can shape shift...we've somehow created a classic pop culture vampire' lmao

Edward had to threaten them to get them to not name the kid Vladimir

Also to be clear: Nessie and Jacob have the EXACT same dynamic as Will and Grace. that's canon.

says its her goal to star in a live action all female production of mamma mia and Carlisle is like 'honey you know you can't do anything on broadway or in hollywood' and she's like, 'no, in real life. I'm gonna go to greece and attract a bunch of women with abba songs' and he's like,,,,,ah

she loves all music but she goes out of her way to Only play stuff she knows Edward hates lmao

one day she remembers she doesn't need to breathe and can see under water and just. books herself a ticket to scotland and Finds The Loch Ness Monster

she actually personally finds a lot of monsters and cryptids like her hybrid aura just attracts all kind of weird shit and she LOVES it. She stops writing trashy romance novels and starts writing autobiographies of her traveling and hanging out with paranormal beings and everyone just assumes its fiction so she becomes a best selling fantasy author lmao

100% she's very into witchy stuff and only like...half in a trendy way. She's like what if on top of everything I've got going on I can cast spells? Think I deserve that power

when she's a couple decades old she catches Edward looking grossed out one day and she asks him what's up and he's like 'I really dont need to hear what creepy teachers think about my daughter' and she's like. oh. Dad we are gonna get SO MANY pedophiles arrested shdndjdn she gets him to expose teachers and she baits them then calls the police. queen.

She finds out she can get tattoos but they fade completely out of her skin within 5 years so she's always getting crazy tats

posts selfies on social media of her just like. hanging out with mountain lions or chilling on top of the space needle. her classmates think they're all photoshopped obvi but it drives her family insane

imagine you're 15 and you're on a nice hike in the woods and you come across your one classmate half naked, sacrificing a bear in some ritual, blood dripping down her face, bigfoot chilling on the rocks behind her filming the ritual on her phone...like on one hand, what would you do, but on the other hand. you've known this girl for a bit and you aren't surprised at all

anyway. stan Nessie Cullen.

#twilight saga #renesmee cullen #nessie cullen #breaking dawn #twilight #molly mumbles

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1962dude420-blog · 3 years

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Today we remember the passing of Willie Mae “Big Mama” Thornton who Died: July 25, 1984 in Los Angeles, California

Willie Mae Thornton (December 11, 1926 – July 25, 1984), better known as Big Mama Thornton, was an American rhythm-and-blues singer and songwriter. She was the first to record Leiber and Stoller's "Hound Dog", in 1952,which became her biggest hit, staying seven weeks at number one on the Billboard R&B chart in 1953 and selling almost two million copies. Thornton's other recordings included the original version of "Ball and Chain", which she wrote.

Her recording of Hound Dog, written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller in 1952, and later recorded by Elvis Presley, reached Number 1 on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart. According to Maureen Mahon, a music professor at New York University, "the song is seen as an important beginning of rock-and-roll, especially in its use of the guitar as the key instrument".

Thornton's birth certificate states that she was born in Ariton, Alabama, but in an interview with Chris Strachwitz, she claimed Montgomery, Alabama, as her birthplace, probably because Montgomery was better known than Ariton. She was introduced to music in a Baptist church, where her father was a minister and her mother a singer. She and her six siblings began to sing at early ages. Her mother died young, and Willie Mae left school and got a job washing and cleaning spittoons in a local tavern. In 1940 she left home and, with the help of Diamond Teeth Mary, joined Sammy Green's Hot Harlem Revue and was soon billed as the "New Bessie Smith". Her musical education started in the church but continued through her observation of the rhythm-and-blues singers Bessie Smith and Memphis Minnie, whom she deeply admired.

Thornton's career began to take off when she moved to Houston in 1948. "A new kind of popular blues was coming out of the clubs in Texas and Los Angeles, full of brass horns, jumpy rhythms, and wisecracking lyrics." In 1951 she signed a recording contract with Peacock Records and performed at the Apollo Theater in 1952. Also in 1952, while working with another Peacock artist Johnny Otis, she recorded "Hound Dog", the first record produced by its writers Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. The pair were present at the recording, with Leiber demonstrating the song in the vocal style they had envisioned; "We wanted her to growl it," Stoller said, which she did. Otis played drums, after the original drummer was unable to play an adequate part. The record sold more than half a million copies, and went to number one on the R&B chart, helping to bring in the dawn of rock 'n' roll. Although the record made Thornton a star, she saw little of the profits.

On Christmas Day 1954 in a theatre in Houston, Texas, she witnessed fellow performer Johnny Ace, also signed to Duke and Peacock record labels, accidentally shoot and kill himself while playing with a .22 pistol. Thornton continued to record for Peacock until 1957 and performed in R&B package tours with Junior Parker and Esther Phillips.

Thornton's success with "Hound Dog" was followed three years later by Elvis Presley recording his hit version of the song. His recording at first annoyed Leiber who wrote, "I have no idea what that rabbit business is all about. The song is not about a dog, it's about a man, a freeloading gigolo." But Elvis' version sold ten million copies, so today few fans know that "Hound Dog" began as "an anthem of black female power." Similarly, Thornton originally recorded her song "Ball 'n' Chain" for Bay-Tone Records in the early 1960s, "and though the label chose not to release the song... they did hold on to the copyright"—which meant that Thornton missed out on the publishing royalties when Janis Joplin recorded the song later in the decade. However, in a 1972 interview, Thornton acknowledged giving Joplin permission to record the song and receiving royalty payments from its sales.

As her career began to fade in the late 1950s and early 1960s, she left Houston and relocated to the San Francisco Bay area, "playing clubs in San Francisco and L.A. and recording for a succession of labels", notably the Berkeley-based Arhoolie Records. In 1965, she toured with the American Folk Blues Festival in Europe, where her success was notable "because very few female blues singers at that time had ever enjoyed success across the Atlantic." While in England that year, she recorded her first album for Arhoolie, Big Mama Thornton – In Europe. It featured backing by blues veterans Buddy Guy (guitar), Fred Below (drums), Eddie Boyd (keyboards), Jimmy Lee Robinson (bass), and Walter "Shakey" Horton (harmonica), except for three songs on which Fred McDowell provided acoustic slide guitar.

In 1966, Thornton recorded her second album for Arhoolie, Big Mama Thornton with the Muddy Waters Blues Band – 1966, with Muddy Waters (guitar), Sammy Lawhorn (guitar), James Cotton (harmonica), Otis Spann (piano), Luther Johnson (bass guitar), and Francis Clay (drums). She performed at the Monterey Jazz Festival in 1966 and 1968. Her last album for Arhoolie, Ball n' Chain, was released in 1968. It was made up of tracks from her two previous albums, plus her composition "Ball and Chain" and the standard "Wade in the Water". A small combo, including her frequent guitarist Edward "Bee" Houston, provided backup for the two songs. Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company's performance of "Ball 'n' Chain" at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967 and the release of the song on their number one album Cheap Thrills renewed interest in Thornton's career.

By 1969, Thornton had signed with Mercury Records, which released her most successful album, Stronger Than Dirt, which reached number 198 in the Billboard Top 200 record chart. Thornton had now signed a contract with Pentagram Records and could finally fulfill one of her biggest dreams. A blues woman and the daughter of a preacher, Thornton loved the blues and what she called the "good singing" of gospel artists like the Dixie Hummingbirds and Mahalia Jackson. She had always wanted to record a gospel record, and with the album Saved (PE 10005), she achieved that longtime goal. The album includes the gospel classics "Oh, Happy Day," "Down By The Riverside," "Glory, Glory Hallelujah," "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," "Lord Save Me," "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," "One More River" and "Go Down Moses".

By then, the American blues revival had come to an end. While the original blues acts like Thornton mostly played smaller venues, younger people played their versions of blues in massive arenas for big money. Since the blues had seeped into other genres of music, the blues musician no longer needed impoverishment or geography for substantiation; the style was enough. While at home the offers became fewer and smaller, things changed for good in 1972, when Thornton was asked to rejoin the American Folk Blues Festival tour. She thought of Europe as a good place for herself, and, with the lack of engagements in the United States, she agreed happily. The tour, beginning on March 2, took Thornton to Germany, France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, the Netherlands, Denmark, Norway, Finland, and Sweden, where it ended on March 27 in Stockholm. With her on the bill were Eddie Boyd, Big Joe Williams, Robert Pete Williams, T- Bone Walker, Paul Lenart, Hartley Severns, Edward Taylor and Vinton Johnson. As in 1965, they garnered recognition and respect from other musicians who wanted to see them.

In the 1970s, years of heavy drinking began to damage Thornton's health. She was in a serious auto accident but recovered to perform at the 1973 Newport Jazz Festival with Muddy Waters, B.B. King, and Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson (a recording of this performance, The Blues—A Real Summit Meeting, was released by Buddha Records). Thornton's last albums were Jail and Sassy Mama for Vanguard Records in 1975. Other songs from the recording session were released in 2000 on Big Mama Swings. Jail captured her performances during mid-1970s concerts at two prisons in the northwestern United States. She was backed by a blues ensemble that featured sustained jams by George "Harmonica" Smith and included the guitarists Doug MacLeod, Bee Houston and Steve Wachsman; the drummer Todd Nelson; the saxophonist Bill Potter; the bassist Bruce Sieverson; and the pianist J. D. Nicholson. She toured extensively through the United States and Canada, played at the Juneteenth Blues Fest in Houston and shared the bill with John Lee Hooker. She performed at the San Francisco Blues Festival in 1979 and the Newport Jazz Festival in 1980. In the early 1970s, Thornton's sexual proclivities became a question among blues fans. Big Mama also performed in the "Blues Is a Woman" concert that year, alongside classic blues legend Sippie Wallace, sporting a man's three-piece suit, straw hat, and gold watch. She sat at center stage and played pieces she wanted to play, which were not on the program. Thornton took part in the Tribal Stomp at Monterey Fairgrounds, the Third Annual Sacramento Blues Festival, and the Los Angeles Bicentennial Blues with BB King and Muddy Waters. She was a guest on an ABC-TV special hosted by actor Hal Holbrook and was joined by Aretha Franklin and toured through the club scene. She was also part of the award-winning PBS television special Three Generations of the blues with Sippie Wallace and Jeannie Cheatham.

Thornton was found dead at age 57 by medical personnel in a Los Angeles boarding house on July 25, 1984. She died of heart and liver disorders due to her longstanding alcohol abuse.

#July 25 #1984 #R.I.P.#Big Mama Thornton

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doctor-rainbowfoxey · 3 years

Text

Renegades Chapter 4 Part 3 - The Inbetween 1

Link to previous parts

All of a sudden our intrepid mutant hero finds himself tumbling head over heels down a precipitous forest path. A minute later Scott realized he didn't have feathers, little clawed feet nor a beak. The shock left the mutant momentarily disoriented as he had grown accustomed to being a bird, however all things considered he was glad to be human. A bit later noticed that he was thankfully not naked, though the costume he found himself wearing looked and felt like a variation of his old one. It even had a working visor.

The next question to cross off on the bucket list, having answered what, was to locate the resolution to just where in blazes was he located in space, let alone time. Huh. This one was going to be a pickle alright. The best answer he could figure from the look of things was a trippy nightmare forest fit for a horror movie or acid trip.

This did not bode well nor put the battle-tested mutant ease. He’d almost rather be back in that dank cold prison cell because that was predictable, controllable, not safe but doable. In this, this allergenic hell, anything was possible. Every glowing eye winking, mysterious growl or squeak made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Every flutter of unknown origin, every darting, shifting shadow made a muscle in his neck twitch and his hand itch to activate his powers.

“'Twas Brillig

And the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe”

Abruptly Scott hears singing and the playing of what sounds like a harmonica nearby. Voice sounded like it was saying words but he’d be damned if he understood them. Sounded like gibberish. Fancy gibberish of the kind Hank would appreciate but that Scott never had the time nor desire to dabble with making heads nor tails of growing up in the x mansion. Give him angles and axel grease or at least chess rather than such Victorian froufrou.

“All mimsy were the borogoves

And the mome raths outgrabe”

As the sing continued Scott was considering changing his verdict on whether this singing was simply harmless froufrou as each note seemed to cause the forest to light up and become even more unsettling unearthly and alive.

“Looooze zomezing?”

Said a voice behind him. Scott’s nerves had caused his energy to flair against the ruby quartz that contained them leaving a trailing as he turned sharply.

“Ach du meine Güte!!”

Exclaimed whoever or whatever was up in the tree, sounding like almost fell out of the tree from being startled but they had nonetheless managed to vanish. That voice sounded familiar. Kurt? It may not be his Kurt, his heart twinged at the thought of another dear friend long lost. He forced himself not to dwell and to continue his train of thought. It may not be his Kurt but they may be able to help and scaring away a potential ally was not going to help him get out of this blasted forest.

“No, come back! I’m sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.”

Said Scott as he tried to be as non threatening as possible, as he approached palms up and open in a beseeching gesture. Suddenly he saw a faint outline appear, pink stripes and agrin solidifying from the void.

“Ah fery vell! One moment bleaze.”

This otherworldly version of Kurt blew on silver harmonica causing Scott to start a bit at the discordant sound.

“Oh!”

Kurt himself seemed momentarily startled by the sound but after a few more notes gainfully proceeded regardless clearly eager to have an audience for his odd song.

“Arh zecond chorus!!”

“'Twas Brillig

And the slithy toves”

Scott took a moment to get a better look at the mutant now that he had revealed himself completely. Form wise the man was the twin of Nightcrawler however instead of the Saphire blue of his Kurt this one was a deep purple fading to violet. Breaking up the purple fuzz was ribbons of stripes of fuscia. He was wearing an outfit that seemed some blend of a medieval and stage magician's outfit. Form-fitting black tights capped off with white-tipped booties, a white ruffled shirt with excessive chest ruffles over with a black suitlike tunic. All of which was topped off with a velvetine black hat. This cat-like Kurt gestured charmingly along with the music most especially with his tail.

“Did gyre and gimble in the wabe”

“Kurt you're a cat…?

Says Scott with mild astonishment. The lyth man looks up at his comment and gives a quick frank reply of his own with a tip of his hat.

“Ein Cheshire cat, Mr. Zummers. Zird chorus! All mimsy were the borogoves

And the mome raths outgrabe”

“Oh no no thank you, Kurt, it's a swell song honestly, but I was wondering if you could help me out?”

Kurt having first been a bit put out to have his song interrupted perked up at having a request made of him.

“Most cerdainly mein friend. Arh! Inquire avay.”

Said Kurt with a suggestive purr and lushes languid sweep of his tail.

“See I’m not sure where I am and I was wondering if you would know which I ought to go?”

Said Scott hoping for a resolution and a resolution to remedy his persistent displacing befuddlement as of late.

“Zat depends on vere vu vant to go, mein freund.”

“It really doesn't matter as long as …”

Replies Scott.

“Zen it really doesn't matder vich vay vu go.”

Seemingly on a whim and to Scott’s surprise the cat-like man leaps from the branch and vanishes before he lands. To his confoundment Scott saw footprints appear around him to his relief Kurt appeared a moment later.

“I zuboze it vould help if vu knew vo... or vat vu vere looking for?”

Scott thought for a moment, everything was pretty foggy but after a second. Out of the mist materialized a vision of dark hair and stormy grey eyes. Logan last he could remember he was upset about something, a flash of deathly pale skin and glowing red eyes floated to his mind, Sinister. Sinister was involved somehow but how, of that he was certain.

“I’m trying to find my universe's Logan. I think Sinister is up to no good and we need to stop him.”

Replied Scott earnestly after a moment of pondering.

“Zinister!! Nein nein nein zorry”

Kurt vanished as he leaped from our hero in a panic, clearly having had a run-in with the evil man himself. Scott heard the sounds of something Kurt size leaping from tree to tree and could hear the branches shaking.

“Kurt!! Kurt we defeat him together! Don’t go!!”

Pleaded Scott. He can’t do this alone. Why do people always do this to him? It's like herding cats.

“Zorry Zorry mein freund!! I can’t let him get me! Not again!”

Scott attempted to leave the path and to follow the dexterous man but creeping vines ensnared him. Before he could process anything he was falling into a river that was not wet.

#scott summers #scogan #x-men #kurt wagner #xmen #xmen fanart #x men #fanart #art #logan howlett #alice in wonderland #renegades

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grapevynerendezvous · 3 years

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KFRC’s 21 Golden Rocks, Volume 1 - Various Artists

This was my first rock/r&b song collection album. How I got it is kind of vague. It certainly has the feel of listening to radio with just a few slight differences. There’s no DJ introducing the songs as they started and/or talking over the songs as they faded out, no commercials between songs, and I could choose when I wanted to hear them, how often, which ones, in what order…okay, so the songs were on the radio and now they could be on my record player. All the better. It also familiarized me with some songs I hadn’t heard, or heard very little. Since the majority of the songs were hits in 1966, with earlier ones going as far back as 1963, and one in 1967, the chances were that I heard most of them throughout ’66 & ’67 - when I really started paying more attention. It took me awhile to warm up to rhythm and blues music, I suppose one could say black music in general. I look back to some of the 45s that we had over time, courtesy of my sister and my mom. There actually are some songs that I had always enjoyed in that genre, but I just hadn’t gotten used to the newer ones yet. Sam Cooke comes to mind, but I think my sister kept that one even though I have most of those 45s now. As time went by I started appreciating the r&b songs on this album, as well as others that I was hearing more and more. It is evident that at this early stage it was reasonably important that I had this collection of music. Only three of the 21 songs are on albums I ended up owning. At the time I got it I already had albums with Hello Hello by Sopwith Camel and Laugh Laugh by The Beau Brummels, while later obtaining the Love album with My Little Red Book as the opening track.

Side one

Hello Hello - Sopwith Camel

1967 No.26 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album Sopwith Camel • origin San Francisco CA

The only song from the year of this album’s release. It was the first hit single by any band in the San Francisco Psychedelic era. There is more about the band in my posting about LP25.

Psychotic Reaction - Count Five

1966 No.5 Billboard * recorded 1965

Album Psychotic Reaction * origin in San Jose CA

The Count Five were the first San Jose band to have success in the “garage band era”. Psychotic Reaction was discovered by KLIV DJ Brian Lord. I saw Count Five with some original members including vocalist Kenn Elnerr perform Psychotic Reaction at Longstock XXI in 2013 in the Santa Cruz Mountains CA.

The Duck - Jackie Lee

1965 No.14 1966 Top 100 No.8 R&B Billboard * recorded 1965

Album The Duck 1966 * origin Los Angeles CA

His real name is Earl Nelson and he had been in The Hollywood Flames in the ‘50s and was lead vocalist on Buzz Buzz Buzz. He had been in the duo Bob & Earl with Bobby Boyd, who later recorded Rockin’ Robin as Bobby Day. Nelson united with Bob Relf for a further Bob & Earl period. Jackie was his wife’s name, and Lee his middle name.

Little Girl - Syndicate of Sound

1966 No.8 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album Little Girl * origin in San Jose CA

Little Girl was originally issued on Hush Records in San Francisco.and became a regional hit with help from KLIV radio. Bell Records picked it up and issued it nationally. In the early’70s Syndicate of Sound played at a DeMolay event I was at. I got to know co-writer Bob Gonzalez in the 2010s. He still performs in the South Bay Area as of this writing. Syndicate of Sound performed a few shows after I met Bob and I saw one of them at the Santa Clara Fairgrounds. Original guitarist, and lead singer of Little Girl Don Baskin, was there, but since passed away in 2019.

Dirty Water - The Standells

1966 No.11 Billboard * recorded 1965

Album Dirty Water * origin in Los Angeles CA

The song was written by producer Ed Cobb who had lived in Boston, and which explains references to that city in Dirty Water. Drummer Dick Dodd, who at one time was on The Mouseketeers, sang lead vocal on this and most Standell songs. Boston sports teams regularly play Dirty Water at their events. The Standells have played at Fenway Park five times including at the 2nd game of the 2004 World Series.

Little Latin Lupe Lu - The Righteous Brothers

1963 No.49 Billboard * recorded 1963

Album Right Now! * origin Orange County/Los Angeles CA

Their first single, this song was a moderate hit for The Righteous Brothers before their first major smash You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling the next year. Bill Medley said that he dated a “Lupe Laguna” in high school. I saw Medley perform solo at Circle Star Theater in the ‘70s.

Laugh Laugh - The Beau Brummels

1964 No.15 Billboard * recorded 1964

Album Introducing The Beau Brummels * origin San Francisco CA

This was their first hit single. It was written by guitarist Ron Elliott and sung by lead vocalist Sal Valentino. I saw Valentino perform as a guest with Jackie Greene in 2005 at The Catalyst in Santa Cruz CA. There is more about the band in my posting about LP29.

Hey Joe (Where You Gonna Go) - The Leaves

1966 No. 31 Billboard * recorded 1966 (3rd version)

Album Hey Joe * origin San Fernando Valley-Los Angeles CA

A popular regional number, the Leaves recorded this song three times, with the final success of the third after new guitarist Bob Arlin, who used a fuzztone, had joined the band. They originally heard the song done by The Byrds at a club called Ciro’s. Johnny Echols of Love claims that The Leaves first heard Love’s version as well. The Leaves ended up releasing it before the Byrds version was released on their Fifth Dimension LP. The second version by The Leaves was released before the Love version came out on their first album, but was not successful as a single. Other notable versions were by Tim Rose, and Jimi Hendrix, plus LA’s Standells, Music Machine and Surfaries had also recorded it.

Baby Scratch My Back - Slim Harpo

1966 No.16 Top 100/No.1 R&B Billboard * recorded 1965

Album Baby Scratch My Back * origin Baton Rouge LA

Born James Isaac Moore in Lobdell LA, Slim Harpo was a leading exponent of Swamp Blues. His stage name was derived from his mastery of the blues “harp” harmonica. It was his most successful single, others of which included I’m a King Bee (’57) and Shake Your Hips (’66).

Pushin’ Too Hard - The Seeds

1966 No.36 (1967) Billboard * recorded 1965 reissued 1966

Album The Seeds 1966 * origin Los Angeles CA

Originally released as You’re Pushin’ Too Hard in 1965 when it became a regional hit and started being played extensively by an LA DJ after the album was released. After a new single of it was issued in November ’66 as Pushin’ Too Hard, it lead to it reaching national charts. Some radio stations banned it in the belief it was about a pusher of illegal drugs. Rather strange since it would have actually been an anti-drug song. The song is often cited as an example of garage rock in both celebratory and denigrating manners. I have seen keyboardist Darryl Hooper play with a recent version of the Seeds, and with Chocolate Watch Band in 2015 and 2019 all at at The Chapel in San Francisco CA.

Good Lovin' - The Young Rascals

1966 No.1 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album The Young Rascals * origin Garfield NJ

This song was originally recorded by Lemme B. Good (Limme Shell), and a month later by The Olympics with revised lyrics, which was a moderate hit for them. It is said that Young Rascal Felix Cavallere first heard The Olympics version and it was added to the Young Rascals’ repertoire, using those same lyrics and basic arrangement as The Olympics. It was the band’s first real hit, being only their second released single. They went on to have five other top 10 hits including two more No.1’s, in the meantime changing their name to The Rascals.

Side 2

You Turn Me On (Turn On Song) - Ian Whitcomb (and Bluesville)

1965 No.8 Billboard * recorded 1965

Album You Turn Me On * origin Dublin IE/from Woking Surrey Eng.

This is one of the only two British Invasion songs included in the collection, the other being technically Irish. (the Irish Invasion?) It was self-penned by Whitcomb and was the only one of his four Billboard songs over the years to reach hit status. He went on to be a record producer, author, and occasional actor. He eventually moved permanently to the U.S. and still performs as of this writing.

Sweet Talkin' Guy - The Chiffons

1966 No.10 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album Sweet Talkin’ Guy * origin The Bronx New York, NY

This was the group’s third Top 10 hit single. They ended up touring in Germany, and in England where members of the Beatles and Rollings Stones were in the audience on one club date.

Along Comes Mary - The Association

1966 No. 7 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album And Then…Along Comes The Association * origin LA CA

The band is famous for their rich vocal harmonies which lead to some major successes for the group in the ‘60s. This was their third single, but the first one to become a hit on Billboard. The next single, Cherish, hit No.1 the same year, as did Windy in 1967 with Never My Love at No.2 that year. The song refers to a once-disillusioned man’s tribulations being comforted by Mary and improving his life. It’s also been said that “Mary” refers to marijuana. It’s unclear whether composer Tandyn Almer ever confirmed that one way or the other. Over the years The Association has had an enormous amount of singers perform in the group over the years. They are still active, with the founder Jules Gary Alexander still on board, as of this writing.

Baby Do The Philly Dog - The Olympics

1966 No.63 R&B No.20 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album Something Old, Something New * origin Los Angeles CA

The Olympics started out as a doo-wop group in the late fifties, having their only big hit, Western Movies, make No.8 Top 100 and No.7 R&B on Billboard with one other top 10 song on Billboard R&B. They released a number of other singles until their last one Do the Philly Dog. They made no further singles following this. Charles Fizer died from a bullet wound in The Watts Riots of ’65. Not long after Melvin King left after his sister died in an accidental shooting. With line up changes the group continued after the mid-60s but with little success. They continued performing in the ‘70s on the oldies circuit in the U.S. and elsewhere.

Hang On Sloopy - The McCoys

1965 No. 1 Billboard * recorded 1965

Album Hang On Sloopy * origin Celina OH, Union City IN

Originally titled My Girl Sloopy when written by Wes Farrell & Bert Berns it was an R&B hit for The Vibrations in 1964. Before changing their name to The McCoys, they were called Rick & The Raiders. Rick & the band backed the Strangeloves, who were actually three writer/producers, at their last performance of a tour. The Strangeloves then recruited 17-year old Rick Zehringer (later Derringer) and his band to record Hang On Sloopy in New York. It later became the official song of the State of Ohio, unofficial fight song of Ohio State University, a signature song of the Cleveland Indians, and played regularly at Cleveland Cavalier games.

Hello Stranger - Barbara Lewis

1963 No.3 Top 100 No.1 R&B Billboard * recorded 1963

Album Hello Stranger * origin Detroit MI

Barbara Lewis wrote all the songs on her first album, Hello Stranger. She had eight other songs chart in the Billboard Top 100 through 1967, two of them which she had not written, peaking at No.11 in 1965. She was out of sight for awhile the next decade but resurfaced in 1977. She retired from singing in 2017 for health reasons.

My Little Red Book - Love

1966 No.52 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album Love * origin Los Angeles CA

This was Love’s first single on the Billboard chart and was a moderate hit. I remember it being played quite a bit on Bay Area stations. It was their version of the Burt Bacharach/Hal David song. Bacharach criticized the altered chord changes in Love version, but the song “became a garage rock standard, per Mason Stewart in his AllMusic song biography. It has also “been credited for its "punk" quality” by Stewart and others. I got to see My Little Red Book, among other songs, performed live by Arthur Lee & Love at Great American Music Hall on January 16, 2004, while Lee was still alive.

Solitary Man - Neil Diamond

1966 No.55 Billboard * recorded 1966

Album The Feel of Neil Diamond * origin Brooklyn NY

This, Neil Diamonds’ first single to chart, was a moderate success on Billboard and remains one of his personal favorite songs. He had written some other successful songs that were covered by others up to that time. It had already been thought by some, but in the 2000s Diamond finally realized, that Solitary Man was about himself while he was trying to write and sell songs up to the point when he went to work in the Brill Building. It was followed by the higher charing single, Cherry Cherry the same year. Neil Diamond has gone on to be one of the the most popular, best selling music artists of all-time. He still performs to sold-out audiences.

5 O'Clock World - The Vogues

1965 No.4 Billboard * recorded 1965

Album Five O’Clock World * origin Turtle Creek/Pittsburg PA

This was the second of back-to-back No.4 singles on Billboard, the band’s best success as The Vogues. They had one non-charting single (released twice) prior to that as The Valaires. The only other time of Top Ten success was in 1968 when they had back-to-back No. 7 singles. Their last studio album was released in 1971, followed by several unsuccessful singles through 1974. Although they continued performing by 1983 there was one original member left. Their manager in the meantime had trademarked the name and assets of the band. What followed was a classic case of many multiple bands using the name The Vogues, resulting in legal actions, and even Congressional testimony regarding the Truth in Music Act by that original member Chuck Blasco.

Gloria - Them

1965 No.71 Billboard * recorded 1964

Album The Angry Young Them * origin Belfast IE

This is the other non-American single on the album, the band being Irish. It landed in the U/S. during the British Invasion period. This garage song staple, written by Van Morrison, was the B-side of Baby Please Don’t Go in the U.K. and as such, was not included on the UK Singles Chart on it’s own. It was only moderately successful in the U.S. as a single while the Shadows of Knight (SOK) version issued later in the year rose to No.10 on Billboard. Them’s version topped that SOK version only in places it could be played. One of my earlier memories as a teenager involved hushed whispers about songs like Gloria and Louie Louie. One could listen to the American band’s version of Gloria and think, so what. It turns out that many radio stations would not play Them’s version because of the line “She comes to my room”: Oh my. The SOK version went, “She calls out my name.” In either case, Gloria is a classic. Van Morrison left the band in 1966 and has gone on to be a beloved songwriter and performer. I saw him on a double-bill with Bob Dylan at Shoreline Amphitheatre in Mountain View CA in the 2000s.

——————————————————-

KFRC 610 “The Big 610” and “Boss Radio” was a Top 40 rock and roll AM radio station in San Francisco CA. Prior to that it was purchased by RKO-General in 1949 and had an MOR (middle of the road) music format. The station was originally licensed at 1110 kHz in 1924, then 660 kHz a three years later, and finally 610kHz in 1928. The change in 1966 blended into “The Summer of Love” era and KFRC became the dominant station in the Bay Area through the 1970s. The station was responsible for two important events that occurred during that period. One was The Beach Boys Summer Spectacular, which included many bands, held in 1966 at the Cow Palace in Daly City. The following year, on June 10 and 11, they hosted the very first rock festival ever held, Fantasy Fair and Magic Mountain Music Festival at Sidney B. Cushing Amphitheatre on Mount Tamalpais in Marin County. It preceded the Monterey Pop Festival by one week. The only band on this album that played Magic Mountain was The Seeds, although there were many great upcoming local and national acts there. KYA 1260 was their chief rival in San Francisco. Another station I listened to a lot in the Bay Area was KLIV 1590 in San Jose. The fact is I listened to those stations more than KFRC overallI. Both of those stations preceded KFRC in the Top 40 format although KFRC held its’ own once it entered that arena. Of course any top forty station was fair game if they were playing the right song while I was cruising around. All these stations are gone now; sold, changed frequency and/or call letters, and of course, formats. It was a “golden” time to be listening to music radio though.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KFRC_(defunct)

https://rateyourmusic.com/release/comp/various-artists/kfrc-the-big-610-21-golden-rocks-volume-1/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KLIV

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sopwith_Camel_(band)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_Five

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earl_Nelson_(singer)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syndicate_of_Sound

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Standells

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Righteous_Brothers

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Beau_Brummels

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Leaves

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slim_Harpo

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Seeds

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rascals

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Whitcomb

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chiffons

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Association

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Olympics_(band)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_McCoys

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Lewis

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_(band)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Diamond

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Vogues

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Them_(band)

LP32

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years

Text

Luckenbach, Texas

A/N: Back at it with the Play The Hand You’re Dealt event, this time with Ryan Brenner, and darn did it feel good to write him again. This one actually felt really good to write. It takes place pretty far on down the road for you and Ryan so you have a lot to get through before you get here, but this is a little look at where you’re headed together. Also, 4th of July is just fun. All of it.

(if you want to know more about Luckenbach, Texas, population 3, click here.)

Word Count: 1,856

Prompt from: @thesumofmychoices - Ryan, fluff, Ryan’s POV & Celebration or Holiday (omg that’s a crazy story about your dog!)

Ryan stopped a few feet from where you sat, watching as you talked animatedly to Georgie and Layla. Her hair’s gettin’... he felt his cheeks lift as his lips parted in a smile. The humidity had wreaked havoc on your curls, pulling frizzy tendrils out from the braid around the crown of your head. You raked your fingertips over it in a halfhearted attempt to corral the strays, but let your arms drop back to your lap as you laughed, hair completely unchanged. No use. He knew it just as well as you did. Condensation ran down the plastic cups Ryan carried, pooling between his fingers and dripping onto the dry, brown dirt, but he stayed rooted in place for a beat or two longer as you threw your head back in another laugh, giving Georgie a playful shove. Get ‘im.

Grin widening, he laughed to himself and resumed walking toward the three of you. Georgie slung his arms one at a time around you and Layla drawing you both into a tight hug. Layla flipped her long yellow hair over her shoulder before rising on her toes to plant a kiss to Georgie’s round cheek, burnt bright red from the day in the sun, his bowler nearly toppling from his head as she took him by surprise. They’re havin’ fun. Sweat licked at the back of his neck where the unruly ends of his hair stuck out from beneath the canvas hat he wore, but the warmth in his chest had nothing to do with the summer heat. Looking around, he saw that the same was true of everyone gathered - music and laughter filled the night as the mouthwatering smells of sugary confections and grilled meats wafted from the snack stand attached to the general store. I’m glad we did this.

The sky was just starting to fade from blue to purple, lightening a shade before the thick, black night came to swallow it up. Fireflies hovered in patterns and formations through the warm air, their bioluminescent signals adding to the golden glow of the lights strung across the square. The pluck of guitar and banjo strings from the stage to the left mixed with the boot stomps emanating from the open doors of the dance hall as people gathered in clusters or strolled here and there. Flags, banners, pinwheels and bunting decorated the stage and various small buildings, stars and stripes in bold Americana colors. Kids darted by hopped up on funnel cakes and clutching sparklers, their eyes wide in awe of the flickering pyrotechnics that their parents only let them play with this one night of the year. He stepped to the side to avoid a collision with a sticky-fingered boy, a popsicle in each hand and his sister chasing after him. Woah. Taking care not to slosh the contents of the cups he carried onto the troublemakers’ heads, he trained his eyes on the level of liquid as it splashed in small waves and finally steadied back out.

“That was a close one, Brenner.”

He looked up in time to see your fingers curling around one of the cups that he held, just below his own. Your pointer finger slid over his pinky to trace the lines that were inked between his knuckles, teeth digging into the corner of your fire-engine red bottom lip as you gave him a crooked smile that made the sparklers and fireflies seem dim. Handing you your beverage he bit back a groan, letting it out as a throaty laugh instead. Tease. “Yeah, but did you see that save?”

You scrunched your nose at him as you smiled and reached up to push a sweaty clump of his hair back behind his ears. Ryan tilted his head into your touch, eyes falling closed as your fingertips grazed the bottom of his earlobe, but opening again as your hand fell down to clasp his empty one. “I did. That was some fancy footwork there, I’m impressed.” Your laugh brightened your eyes as it tumbled from your open mouth, your thin fingers squeezing his rough palm. “You been holdin’ out on me, Ryan?” You shifted your eyes and took a sip of your beer.

Never have, never will. It was no secret that while music and rhythm seemed to flow in his veins, Ryan Brenner was not a very good dancer. “Nah,” he shook his head, and slowly, so that you had plenty of time to react, lifted your joined hands to turn you under his arm. Your surprised gasp of his name hit him in the chest as a few drops of cold beer splashed onto his forearm and soaked into the hem of his white tee. You leaned into him and he felt the last shakes of your laughter leave your lungs. He dropped your hand so he could press his to the small of your back, fingers grazing your skin under the bottom of your navy blue tank top. I love this woman. “You know I save all my best moves for you, Junebug.” He kissed your forehead, the wispy little rebellious frizz along your hairline tickling his lips.

Humming contentedly, you wrapped your free arm around his waist and looked up at him, chin tucked into the crook of his shoulder. “Yeah, you do.” You licked your lips as he took a swig from the red cup. “I’m lucky like that.”

Ryan’s fingers flexed to push you even closer to his side, but before he could continue the pointless conversation of which of you were luckier, Georgie called over, his raucous tone cutting through the ambient sound easily. “Hey you two comin’ back anytime soon or you just gonna stand there all night?”

He looked up to see his friend waving his arm from the rock wall surrounding the big Cedar Elm where the four of you had been sitting enjoying the music after your set. You laughed again, turning your face into his chest before meeting his eyes once more. Ryan trailed his fingers up your back until his palm reached the center of your shoulder blades. He took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of your floral shampoo mixed with dirt, sweat, and the sweet coconut smell of the sunscreen you’d slathered on all day. Still got a tan though, and I see some new freckles. His cheek twitched to the side pulling his lips along with it, and he leaned in to drag the tip of his nose over the bridge of yours and down to the crest of your cheek where the sun had painted new speckles on your skin. He kissed them, and you smiled under the bristles of his beard as he dropped his lips down to capture yours. Love her so damn much.

Three and a half years had gone by, but it hadn’t taken Ryan that long to realize that you were right for him in a million ways that he hadn’t even considered. You’d taught him how to stand still and spend more time thinking about where he was now instead of where he was headed next. But you’d also showed him how easily you could pick up and head back to the road when it was time, how you’d completely accepted his wandering ways. He’d let you into every part of his life, all the secrets that he kept close to his heart like the treasures that you knew he kept hidden safely in a zippered inner pocket of his big canvas coat that he wore in the winter time- an arrowhead, a clover, others things he’d collected that no one else knew existed aside from the people who he’d gotten the items from. A penny, a guitar pick, an old zippo lighter. You’d fit into his family as though you’d been there all along, both on the road and back home; in that zippered pocket, and at Aunt Holly’s table.

She fits here, too. He’d had the thought earlier in the night, standing between you and Georgie on the small wooden stage. The three of you had played a set of eight songs together while Layla joined the small crowd that lingered nearby- mostly songs that he’d been playing for years, ones that he’d played with Cowboy and Virginia, way back before he’d even met the bright eyed button nosed fiddler to his left. But then you’d also played the song that you’d helped him write back on your apartment floor in front of the fireplace, and it felt just as right as the other songs. Ryan and Georgie hadn’t been back to Luckenbach for the Fourth of July festival in the nearly five years since Cowboy had been gone. It felt right to come back this year with you, with Georgie bringing Layla. Next year Ginny and Henry’ll come too, he’ll be old enough, he’ll get a kick outta the tractor parade in town. The thought of the six of you being there together lightened his heart.

“Brenner? You hear me or-” Georgie called again as Ryan finally broke the kiss, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hand up, fingers tracing the freckles he’d just kissed.

“Keep your pants on, Georgie,” Ryan called, tearing his eyes from you to turn towards the other man. “I’m kissin’ my girl an’ takin’ my time.” He’d lowered his voice, no longer shouting for the entertainment of everyone around, speaking only for you to hear. Dipping his head back down, he caught another quick kiss, enjoying the way you sighed into it and how you gathered a fistful of his tee. Never gets old, never will.

“Ryan,” slightly out of breath, you whispered his name through a grin that only got brighter as the sky darkened. Shaking your head you asked, “What was that for?”

Ryan swallowed and narrowed his eyes. It hadn’t taken him three and a half years to know that you were it for him, but it was moments like this that reinforced that fact; moments that made him sure that you were all he wanted, all he’d ever want. He blinked and lowered his hand from your face, reaching for your free hand. Smiling, he took another swing of his beer. “Nothin’,” he tugged your hand and started walking back towards Georgie and Layla as a guitarist wearing a harmonica neckstrap stepped up to take the mic next. “Let’s get over there’n rescue Layla.” You laughed and Ryan pressed his lips together to try to keep from joining you. “Poor girl, he’s probably talkin’ her ear off or somethin’, you know how he-”

You cut him off, rising to your toes to kiss him quickly. “I love you, Ryan.”

There weren’t any fireworks planned in Luckenbach. Might be able to see ‘em from Fredricksburg if it’s a clear night, Georgie had explained to you and Layla earlier in the day. It was the Fourth of July, but it was also just another night in the heart of Texas. It was a night of music and festive celebration, good food, good people and good feelings. Who needs fireworks?

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @traeumerinwitzhelden @gollyderek @obscurilicious @malionnes @with1love1anu @beautifuldesastre @luminex3

if you would like to be added or removed from the tags, please let me know! (and if you have let me know and I haven’t changed it please tell me again because I am a well intentioned albeit forgetful fool) Thanks for reading!

#play the hand you’re dealt #card game prompts #ryan brenner #celebration or holiday #ryan's pov #ryan brenner x you #ryan brenner x reader #ryan brenner x junebug #passing through masterlist #Passing Through #PT #jackie & ryan fanfiction #fourth of july #luckenbach texas #it's a real place #and a real song #and willie nelson had his picnic there #and it basically exists for music #and i cannot think of anywhere else for Ryan to spend the 4th

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the-local-oddity · 5 years

Text

The Ripper

A short story but an old legend Snufkin recalls and soon learns the truth behind. As well as reunites with someone from long ago.

I'm on mobile, so I can't put it under a read-more, but please enjoy:

“There are no monsters in Moominvalley.” Snufkin started, as he pushed more wood into the fire, his friends sat on the opposite side of him, “This thing isn't a monster… it's something else…”

The exchanged glances before looking back at him, he was looking down at the fire, instead of at the group.

“He's called, The Ripper, ” Snufkin took a deep breath and started his story, “he hunts the forests late in the night, he's eight feet tall with razor sharp claws that cut through anything. His eyes are glowing blue and can be seen for miles upon miles.”

Sniff grabbed onto Moomintroll, and nervously squeezed his shoulders, Snufkin had barely started the story and he was already terrified.

“Oh, would you calm down Sniff.” Little My hissed at him, “If you dare start screaming I'll bite your ears off!”

“What does he hunt for?” Moomintroll asked, to get the others attention back to Snufkin, who glanced up at him.

“People,” Snufkin answered in a grim tone, “anyone who is outside the woods late in the night. No tent, no house, no camp.” He motioned to his own tent, and Moominhouse not too far off, “We're safe right now, bit if we were in there, ” he pointed to the forest, “We'd probably be dead.”

Sniff covered his mouth so he couldn't scream and Little My wouldn't bite him.

“Or maybe not. Depends on if he's moved from his last victims.” Snufkin shrugged and looked up to the stars.

“Moved on?” Little My leaned forward, “What do you mean by that?”

“He likes finishing off bloodlines you know. Starting from the oldest and moving down to the youngest.” Snufkin was now looking at his friends, his face seemed more serious than usual.

Little My looked at the others, who were petrified with fear, then back to Snufkin “Who told you this story anyhow?”

Snufkin paused and tapped his chin, “I don't really remember, all I remember is hearing it when I was very young.”

“Well, it's not true.” She stood up and smirked at him, “I was told the same story, it was just to keep us out of the woods late at night. It's not true!”

“You're probably right.” Snufkin nodded at her, and the others seemed to relax just a little bit, “After all, I've never seen him, and I've been in the forest without a camp several times.”

“exactly, ” Little My folded her arms, proud to have proved his story incorrect, but then got a mischievous smile on her face, “he either doesn't exist or he isn’t finished with your father yet.” Her eyes burned into Snufkin.

“What do you mean by that?” Snufkin asked, still looking calm.

“Don't you remember stupid?” She began to walk towards the bridge, the others were watching closely, “The person who told us that story was your dad, and he said that he was The Ripper’s current target. Which means, soon as he kicks the bucket, you're next!”

She proudly whipped around and walked to the house, Snufkin watched her and glared when others weren't looking. The heard the sudden noise of a fire being put out and looked back in time to see Snufkin zip his tent up.

“Good night.” Was all he said.

The all walked back to the house, Moomintroll planned on talking to Little My and telling her not to say such things again, but she was already curled up and bed and he didn't want to risk bothering her.

In the morning, Little My went to go bother Snufkin but found he wasn't by his campsite. He wasn't even in his tent when she poked her head in. She frowned and looked around the dinghy tent, her eyes catching sight of a piece of paper. It was a drawing, a sort of sketchy one.

At the top, he had written: “The Ripper” she looked down at the picture itself and was surprised when the face seemed oddly familiar. Quickly she folded it up and shoved it into her dress pocket. She had to ask someone else about it later and before she could be noticed she slipped from the tent and back to the house.

“Well now…” Moominpapa started at the drawing Little My had handed him, “I certainly see what you're saying, they do share a resemblance to each other, but Snufkin hasn't ever seen him before, I don't believe it's intentional.” He tapped his fingers on the desk.

“He probably just doesn't remember meeting him.” She said with certainty, “But he has seen him before, I know that because I've seen them together before!”

“When was that?”

“When he was really little…”

“Exactly, ” he passed the picture back, “it is an odd coincidence, but nothing major I believe.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She snatched the picture from him and hoped off his table, “It's super freaky though!”

“I never said it wasn't.” Moominpappa sighed and shook his head.

She later placed the picture back where she had found it, and hoped Snufkin never knew it had been missing.

As the days went on, Snufkin didn't talk about The Ripper anymore and was always sure to be back at his camp before night fell.

No was willing to say it out loud, but they all knew he was scared. Or at least the ones who heard the story and what Little My had said that night did.

Snufkin could never be sure if his father was dead or not, he had never seen the man, but of course, he knew the story was fake. He'd never seen The Ripper before or was that only because his father was still alive? He could never know, and he stopped wanting to risk it.

And as winter came the fear remained, though much more calmer than before, he was able to push it down and ignore it as he began his travels. This year, he found a new path that lead him down to a new town. It was small, one of those towns that were mostly made of travelers who came and went, those who did live there permanently had family roots in the town and they didn't want to leave.

He walked through the town as the rain started to fall, he pushed his way into a bar or a cafè not that it mattered, he was allowed in and he didn't like alcohol. Not that he'd ever had it before, but he didn't like the sound of it.

He found himself a seat where he wouldn’t bother anyone, and no one would bother him. Hopefully.

Near him, there was a man sitting on a stool, he seemed to be tuning his guitar. The man gave a glance in Snufkin's direction and smiled at him, Snufkin quickly looked away. The man felt familiar, but he couldn't put together why.

“Are you new around here?” He directed the question to Snufkin.

“Yes.” He kept the answer short, hoping that would deter him from continuing to talk.

“You seem a little young to be all on your own.” He strummed his guitar to check the sound, “Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Snufkin took out his harmonica to polish it and hoped the man would leave him alone if he seemed busy.

The man leaned forward and took a good look at the harmonica, then at Snufkin. He watched him for a few seconds, before going back to his guitar. Snufkin sighed to himself in relief.

“Ripper!”

Snufkin jumped a little bit but turned to follow the voice, he was an old gentleman standing near the guitar man.

“Leaving so soon?” The older man asked him.

“I told you, I don't stay anywhere too long.” He strummed the guitar again, “It's bad luck.”

The older man patted his back, “I couldn't see you ever being bad luck, but I can't stop you can I?”

“Nope.”

“Well then, could play us one more song?” He asked the guitar man, who smiled and nodded.

“Alright, one final song.” He stood, and strummed the guitar loudly to gain attention, “I call this, The Story of The Ripper!”

Snufkin sat and began watching the man closely as he started to move around the room and sing his song. It told the story of the Ripper, but not exactly like how Snufkin knew it. It was different.

The new story went as follows:

“There is a creature known as The Ripper, he lurks the forests to find lost souls in the night and return them to their homes. His eyes are glowing blue, his head is pointed and on his pitch black hands are sharp claws. He is seen as a beast and monster and his frightful appearance scares this eye wishes to help.

He wasn't always this way, long ago he was a traveler, he was kind, and wasn't one to settle down. Then one day he met a kind girl and fell in love. With her, he had a son, a child who adored with all of his heart. A tiny Snufkin, who even at a young age showed love for all nature. But one day, the man was out with his child, they lost track of time and the forest got dark. It wasn't long before they were separated. The man did everything he could to find his son, but it was too late and by the time the sun rose in the sky, his child was gone.

In grief, he took to wandering again, leaving behind the girl he loved and home he had grown so used too. Afraid that he could fail them as well. As the years went on, his grief changed him and he began to look more beastly. The man promised to help any lost soul he found, but in the dark, the people only feared him.

He is known as the Ripper to those who have seen him, and stories tell of him as a beast who only kills. But that was never his truth.”

As the man finished, it slowly dawned on Snufkin why he looked so familiar and he quickly began to dig into his backpack, pulling out the picture he was drawn that last spring. He held it up to the man to compare, the man glanced over at him.

They looked so very much alike and something seemed to click in his mind. He suddenly remembered what Little My had said about who told them the story, and as his eyes fell on the man once more a connection to an old faded memory resurfaced.

“Papa?”

#moomins #moominvalley #moomin #moomintroll #moominpapa #little my #sniff #snufkin #the joxter #joxter isn't mentioned by name. but he's obviously guitar man.#writing #fanfic #my fic #my writing #spacey author

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geminiamethyst · 5 years

Text

Nightmare.

Sorry it’s been a while, my brain has not come up with much inspiration lately. So I’m just gonna do a few short stories here and there and I’ll see where I can go from there. This story takes place after Possession. If you haven’t read it yet, I’ll post a link at the end of the story so you guys are up to date. Please read it if you haven’t as there are some spoilers ahead in this story.

Enjoy.

The day had seemed pretty normal to Snufkin. It was a normal Autumn afternoon. The once lush green leaves were now in various shades of oranges and yellows. The beautiful flowers that had graced the valley during the Spring and Summer have shrivelled, leaving nothing more than bare stalks and dead petals on the ground. The trees themselves seemed to have followed suit, some bare completely of their leaves while others were just barely clinging onto them. Even the grass was dying, their green had become yellow from the cold. The skies were completely silent apart from the occasional whisper of a harsh wind, as the birds have all flown south, wanting to not get caught up in the snow. The clouds in the sky seemed to have taken on a grey hue, threatening to open up and rain upon the valley. Animals hurried about, squirrels collecting nuts and burying them and hedgehogs hurrying to finish their dens for the Winter. The residents were no different. They all collected the essentials that they needed such as firewood and other rations should they wake up from their Winter hibernation too early. Everything seemed fine.

Snufkin felt the fishing rod tug in his hands. The float bobbed under the surface furiously as the fish down below tries to savagely yank the bait off of the hook. Snufkin was stranger though as he pulled on the fishing rod, sending the fish flying through the air. Being quick, he grabbed the line and as the fish was thrashing wildly, he unhooked it into the bucket that he had beside him. Five small fish were swimming around in circles, their cycle almost interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the sixth. Snufkin smiled at how many he had already caught before turning his attention to Moominhouse. It was slowly starting to become dark already, the day already gone too quick for anyone’s liking. The sky was becoming a light shade of orange and pink blended together. He wondered if Moominmamma would like some fresh fish to cook for her family. With that in mind, he stood up and carried his fishing rod and bucket towards Moominhouse. As he slowly approached the house, he could hear laughing on the veranda. He could see Moominmamma, Moominpappa, Moomin and the Joxter, the father he reunited with last year there, laughing at something and enjoying some hot beverages. Joxter was sitting on the railing whilst the family was sitting at the table. Moomin seemed to have caught sight of Snufkin because he had gotten up and started waving at him. Snufkin waved back, the smile he had on his face growing a little bigger. Joxter turned to see what the young troll as seeing. Upon seeing his son, he too started to wave at Snufkin. Snufkin waved back. Everything was perfect.

Too perfect.

Snufkin stopped waving abruptly. He stopped walking too. His smile faded. A foreboding chill ran throughout his entire body. He remembered nothing of the prior events that had taken place before he went fishing. He couldn’t remember waking up and having breakfast that morning. He couldn’t remember going for a walk or seeing his friends. Nor could he remember playing his harmonica, if he did at all. He couldn’t even remember getting his fishing rod. The one thing that he couldn’t remember most importantly, was seeing Joxter return to Moominvalley. Joxter was away somewhere, most likely causing trouble. So, if he was outside of Moominvalley, why was he here?

Snufkin felt his heart stop as he heard something behind him. It sounded like...laughter. Very familiar laughter. He slowly turned around to see a large black mass behind him. Snufkin felt like his body had turned to stone, even his breathing stopped all together. Two, blood red eyes opened up and a toothy grin spread in the black mass. The eyes shined with demonic glee as Snufkin felt all the colour drain from his face. His hands stopped responding as he dropped his fishing rod and the bucket. Water splashed over his feet and the fish flopped uselessly on the ground. He barely noticed it. He could barely hear anything, only his heart beating louder than a drum.

“Hello, mutt.” The shadowed figure grinned at the traveller’s expense. That was the push Snufkin needed to finally move. His legs snapped out of their stone like state and worked faster than he ever thought they could. He could hear the ground behind him cracking and crumbling. The house in front of him seemed to be further than it was a minute ago. Snufkin tried to run faster, but no matter how hard he tried, he seemed to be going slower than he did faster. The family on the veranda didn’t seem to notice and just continued to smile and wave at him, taunting him in a way. The ground vanished under his feet and he fell into a deep, seemingly bottomless, black pit. Snufkin didn’t react to it other than his lungs not taking in air and hand outstretched uselessly for someone to grab him. He didn’t even have enough time to scream. The pit closed up, closing off all light.

Snufkin didn’t know how long he fell but he stopped very suddenly when something wrapped around his arms. Gravity had taken such an affect on him, that he thought that his arms would be ripped completely off of his body. He looked around seeing nothing at all but darkness. He tugged at his arms to try to free them.

“I’ve got you now.” The voice taunted him. Snufkin stopped struggling and looked on ahead. There were those blood red eyes again. Snufkin couldn’t help but feel that fear creeping back up into him.

“No. You’re not real! You’re gone!” He cried out, tears threatening to fall down his face.

“You can’t get rid of me! I’ll always be there, in your shadow.” The figure taunted, leaning in too close for Snufkin’s comfort. “And one day, you’ll be my little puppet once again!” Suddenly, Snufkin felt something moving his legs, forcing him to walk on invisible ground that had just appeared underneath him. He tried to stop his movements but it was no use. The invisible force that held him forced him to move literally like a marinette puppet. Snufkin looked around blindly for something or better yet someone to help him.

“Snufkin!”

Snufkin looked to where his name was called from. It was Moomin. Snufkin almost wept in joy at seeing his best friend.

“Moomin! Please! Help me!” He begged, desperately trying to fight back against the strings.

“Why should I?” Moomin suddenly scowled, an angry look crossing his face. Snufkin could only stare wide eyed at him. What? “It’s not like you’ll pay me back for it! You’re useless!”

“No! Moomin! Snap out of it! This isn’t you!” Snufkin protested, his eyes threatening to leak.

“Shut up!” Little My suddenly yelled as she stood next to Moomin.

“My!” Snufkin cried out, shocked that his older sister had said such a thing to him.

“What did I say, you useless crybaby?!” Little My barked. There was a noise of a zipper and Snufkin suddenly found that his mouth was zipped up tight. “That’s better! I’m getting sick of you just by your whining!” Snufkin shook his head, trying to scream as loud as he could for this to end. “You pathetic crybaby!”

“Is the jerk crying again?” Snorkmaiden asked as she appeared next to Moomin. Sniff joined her quickly afterwards.

“Yeah! The loser is here to grace us with his tears!” Sniff scowled, pointing at Snufkin. The traveller only responded by shaking his head furiously, trying desperately hard to not believe that these were really his friends shouting such abuse at him like this.

“The tramp is finally leaving is he?” Moominpappa enquired as he appeared behind his son, with his wife standing next to him. “Good. It was about time too. He was never good enough for this family anyway!”

“We don’t need trash like that around Moominvalley. Life will be better without him!” Moominmamma uncharacteristically snarled. Snufkin shook his head again and tears escaped his eyes as he couldn’t fight them anymore. The family took as an opportunity to continue shouting insults at him.

“You’re worthless!” Moomin yelled.

“You’re pathetic!” Snorkmaiden spat.

“You can’t do anything right!” Sniff sneered.

“You’re weak!” Moominmamma shrieked.

“You’re a burden on this family!” Moominpappa insulted.

“I wish you weren’t my brother!” Little My stabbed the blade of insults deeper into Snufkin. The traveller continued to weep, tears streaming down his face faster than ever, as the insults kept coming at him like a horrendous storm. Some were repeated and some weren’t, bring new cruel names to label him with. He kept repeating over and over again in his head that this wasn’t truly the ones that he called family for the harsh words. Each one was sharper than a knife cutting into his flesh, tearing his heart into thousands of pieces. He was forced to stop moving, being forced to hear the verbal and emotional abuse even more. Only his foot was hovering in mid air. He didn’t understand why, he didn’t even think as to why. All he could try to do, was to block out all of the abuse thrown his way. He suddenly jumped, letting out a muffled yelp when he felt a pair of hands lamp onto his shoulders. He shuddered as the person behind him leaned over to his ear, their hot breath tickling his ear.

“I wish you had never been born.” A familiar voiced hissed down his ear, filled with pure loathing towards him. It was heard above everyone else, filling the boy with more despair. Before Snufkin could whip his head around to confront the abuser, there was the sound of snapping strings and the hands shoved him over an unseen cliff edge that he had been standing at. The voices of his loved ones continued to hurl abusive words towards him and he plummeted through the air. He hurled through the darkness, screaming as loud as he could.

“NO!” Snufkin screamed as he sat up, petrified. He lungs were constricted, making it extremely difficult to breathe. It was so hard that Snufkin thought that from the shire pressure was going to snap all of his ribs in half. His heart pounded so rapidly that he felt like he was going to pass out. His stomach was tied into so many knots that he literally felt like throwing up his supper. He blindly looked around his tent, panic overtaking his mind. Where was he? Where was his father? Where was everyone?! Without thinking of putting on his hat or his boots, he stumbled right outside, tripping over his own feet. He landed onto the half frozen ground, frost already creeping onto the grass. The change in temperature was just enough to have him stop and try to breathe again. He laid there on the ground, taking deep breathes as steady as he could. His breath turned into white mist in response to the cold. The mist faded within seconds, along with his panic. Slowly, he sat up, his heart beat slowing to its regular rate and his chest was less tight. The night seemed peaceful enough with its star decorated sky and the almost full moon. There was not a single cloud, making the night more cold than it would’ve been. The crickets played in time with the rapids of the stream, creating a harmonic melody. Owls hooted into the night, playing their own midnight melody. The stream looked like multiple moonstones as it reflected the moon.

Snufkin shivered a little in response to the air. He wiped the cold sweat that trickled down his face as the reality of the nightmare he suffered set in. He wanted to scream so loud that the valley could hear him but his voice got caught up in his throat. He looked over at his tent, wondering why Joxter hadn’t come to comfort him like he had done so before. However, he remembered once again that his father was away. Sitting on the frozen ground, he glanced over towards Moominhouse. While, the rest of the house was dark, the lights downstairs were still on. Someone was still awake. Snufkin looked over at his tent. Normally it would be his own place of sanctuary in a way. A place for him to feel safe while he slept. Now however, the dark inside of it reminded him of the black abyss he fell into in his dream. Steeling himself from the cold, Snufkin slowly got to his feet, the thin socks he wore made his limbs feel almost like ice in response to the frost, and carefully stumbled towards Moominhouse.

Moominmamma hummed to herself quietly as she scooped out the pumpkin on the kitchen counter. Beside her were a few jars. Some of them were full of pumpkin filling, being ready to be made into soup whilst others were waiting to be filled. Pumpkin husks were laid empty on the other side of the counter. There was also a bowl with pumpkin seeds filling it. The mother planned to plant them for them to be grown into full pumpkins for next year. The fireplace in the drawing room was lit to help warm up the house downstairs as the night was bitterly cold. Normally she wouldn’t be up this late at night, in fact right at this moment she would rather be curled up in her warm bed and do this in the morning with her family. But there was this nagging feeling that wouldn’t leave her alone, so she decided that she would tire herself out so it could leave her alone by keeping busy. However, even while she was keeping her hands busy, the feeling wouldn’t leave her be. She didn’t understand what it was but had a sense that she would figure it out soon.

Suddenly, there was quiet knocking at the door. The mother looked up from her work. At first she thought that she had imagined it, but when she heard the knocking, a little louder this time, she knew that it wasn’t the dark playing tricks on her. As she quickly washed her paws, clearing them of the pumpkin and its seeds. As she shook her damp paws dry, she hurried to the drawing room where the knocking had come from. She gently opened the door, revealing a familiar, green dressed figure, shivering from the night’s cruel coldness.

“Oh! Snufkin! This is a bit of a surprise.” Moominmamma exclaimed, seeing the young traveller standing in front of her. That’s when she caught sight of his pale face and damp skin, his fringe sticking to his forehead. She noticed that his scarf, hat and boots weren’t there either, as if he had literally just woken up and didn’t think about putting on these things. “Are you alright? You look awfully pale dear.”

“Moominmamma...” Snufkin started before his voice failed him. He cleared his throat quietly so he could try again. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but...” He trialed off involuntarily, fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve.

“Is everything alright?” Moominmamma gently probed, seeing how uncomfortable Snufkin had suddenly become.

“N-n-no...and I need to talk to someone. Please?” Snufkin stammered, becoming more out of character just by begging that. Moominmamma only looked at him out of pity, before she delicately placed an arm around his shoulders.

“Come inside, dear. Let’s get you out of the cold.” She said as she gently nudged him inside. She wordlessly guided him to the fireplace and have him sit down before it. Snufkin welcomes the heat from the fire, the coldness from outside seemed to fade away like a forgotten memory. Moominmamma draped a blanket over his shoulders, helping him to warm up better.

“Thank you.” He smiled a little, clutching the blanket to the point where his knuckles became whiter than a pearl.

“Now dear...tell me everything.” Said Moominmamma as she consolingly sat next to the traveller and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Snufkin didn’t answer right away. Moominmamma didn’t rush him as she could tell by his trembling frame under her paws, she knew he was badly shaken up.

“Before I do, can you answer me this honestly?” He asked, his head bowing a little in shame. Moominmamma only responded by nodding her head, her eyes flashed with confusion. Snufkin took a deep breath before he blurted his question out. “Do you think I’m useless?”

“What?! No! Snufkin I don’t think that. Neither does my family. Why would you ever think that?” Moominmamma exclaimed, gently tilting his head up to look at her. Snufkin’s eyes went downcast. “Snufkin, if you don’t talk to me, I won’t be able to help you.” Snufkin looked at her, and she felt like her heart would break. He was wide eyed and seemed to look like a frightened child. She had seen this look before. That was the night before he met his father for the first time, the night he had a nightmare about the events that caused him to be separated from those who love him. He became an emotional wreck after that, and it looked like he was relapsing into it again.

“It was a nightmare.” Snufkin finally started, slowly. Moominmamma didn’t force him to let it out at once. She knew to take her time with Snufkin, he had every right to be slow with this. “At first, it was just me fishing and coming up to your house to see if you wanted any fish for your family. Then I saw Father on the veranda with you and that’s when it got bad very quickly. I heard him.” Snufkin shuddered at that, feeling like he was going to be sick. Moominmamma didn’t feel the need to ask what the traveller had meant. The previous year in Autumn, Snufkin was possessed a vengeful spirit, a spirit of a boy who died when Snufkin was an infant. A boy who made his father kill Little My’s father just so he could have her mother. A boy who was so spoilt that he have a tantrum worse than that of a toddler’s to get what he wanted. A boy that was so hate filled when attention was drawn way from him, that he would do anything to get it. That included trying to murder Snufkin one night whilst he was sleeping in is crib. The spirit was so filled with hate that he didn’t cross over, biding his time for his revenge. He had possessed Snufkin with the intent on getting rid of everyone for he blamed everyone for his life going wrong and his death. With the help of a spirit medium, Madame Portia, they were able to get Snufkin back and send the spirit to the other side for good. They had almost lost Snufkin but they were glad to have him back after such a long and tortuous night.

“I fell down a dark pit before the spirit caught me. He said he’d be back, to take me as his “puppet” again. He forced me to walk as if I was one on strings. That’s when Moomin, Sniff, Snorkmaiden, Little My and you and your husband came. I thought you’d help me but instead....” Snufkin had to pause, his throat collecting a heavy lump inside of it. “You all called me names, saying that I was worthless and weak and a burden on the family. So many awful things. I kept trying to block it out, but the words just got louder, and I couldn’t do anything or say anything to stop it. I was forced to stand still with the words being yelled at behind me.” Snufkin had to stop again with his explanation. Moominmamma only started to rub his back consolingly, her heart feeling like it would shatter instantly. “Suddenly someone came up behind me. They said that they wished that I had never been born. I didn’t need to see them. It was Father. I know he wouldn’t say anything like that to me really but it didn’t stop it from hurting. He then pushed me over a cliff and that’s when I woke up.” Snufkin feverishly wiped his tears but they wouldn’t stop coming. “I know it wasn’t real, but it felt like it. And I hate it!” That’s when Moominmamma couldn’t hold back anymore. She carefully wrapped her arms around Snufkin. The boy only responded by leaning into the warm embrace. He could faintly smell pumpkin on the mother, telling him what she was more than likely doing tonight. His tears dampened the mother’s fur as she combed her fingers through his messy hair. Now she understood why that nagging feeling kept her up this night. She somehow knew that Snufkin would be having this night terror, and knew that he would seek comfort while his father was gone.

“You are strong. You are not worthless, you mean so much to us. And you are not a burden on this family. You have changed my family’s life, especially Moomin’s for the better. He has never been so inspired to go on adventures so much more than he was before he met you. Just by meeting you and hearing your stories has opened up his eyes to so much in the world.” Moominmamma whispered to Snufkin, rubbing his back in a smooth circular motion. Snufkin listened intently, her words breaking down the emotional barrier that held him. “You are and always will be a part of this family. We all love you very much Snufkin and there is no power on Earth that can change that.” Snufkin felt the tears coming down his face quicker, but out of the joy and comfort that he was feeling.

“I just...hate feeling trapped like this. I just want this nightmare to be over.” He cried, trying to make his hoarse voice as loud as he could.

“I know, Snufkin. Believe me, lately I’ve been concerned about it too, especially now. I think everyone in fact has been like this. And remember what Madame Portia told you?” Moominmamma sighed rubbing his back gently. She then carefully took his wrist and pushed back the sleeve of his coat, revealing a turquoise beaded bracelet. “She said that as long as you wear this bracelet, no spirit will possess you again.”

“But what it doesn’t work? What if I lose it? I don’t want to hurt anyone like that again.” Snufkin cried, snatching his hand back and curled in on himself.

“That’s enough Snufkin. It won’t happen. If it does, then we’ll be ready for it.” Moominmamma suddenly said in a stern tone as she gently forced the traveller to look at her. Snufkin blinked a couple of times before wiping his tear stained face.

“Sorry. I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?” He sniffed quietly, feeling ashamed with himself.

“Not at all. This is normal, Snufkin. And I’m glad that you came here after your horrific ordeal tonight.” The mother whispered soothingly. She gently brushed a thumb over his cheeks to clear his face of his tears. “However, I think that right now, you need something a little better than a mother’s love.” With a gentle pat on the head, Moominmamma got up from where she was kneeling. She hobbled a little, the blood flow returning to her legs. Without waiting for Snufkin to ask what she was doing, she made her way upstairs, disappearing into the dark. Without the comfort of the mother, Snufkin suddenly felt very cold and alone once again. He tightened his hold on the blanket, almost making a cocoon to warm him back up again. He stared into the fire, watching the various shades of reds, oranges and yellows made in its infinite number of patterns. He tried to find further comfort in the fact that he was safe in Moominhouse. His eyes drifted over to a talisman that hung on the wall. Another gift from Madame Portia to protect the household and its family. Snufkin wasn’t normally a superstitious person, but after last year, he had a different perspective on things. He shivered a little before curling further into himself. He was so wrapped up in trying to clear his mind of those awful memories, he didn’t realise that someone had come down the stairs and approached him. A paw gently rested on his shoulder. He looked up, expecting to see Moominmamma again, but instead he saw Moomin standing next to him. A tired smile was on his face, saying that Moominmamma woke him up to comfort his best friend tonight.

“Moomin...” the traveller smiled tiredly, standing up to greet the young troll.

“Mamma said that you needed a hug.” Moomin smiled. Snufkin let out a small stifled laugh (his throat still felt like there was a lump inside it) before he and Moomin enveloped their arms around each other. They stayed like that for a while, welcoming the warmth that each other shared. “I won’t ask what happened tonight, but I know that you don’t want to be alone right now.” Snufkin nodded meekly, wishing that his tears didn’t threaten to come once again. The young troll patted his back consolingly as the traveller noticed Moominmamma standing by the stairs. His red sore eyes looked at her, saying his thanks silently. The mother only smiled, wiping a small tear from her cheek. Moomin slowly broke away and took the traveller’s hand in his paw.

“Come on. You can sleep in my room tonight.” He said as he gently dragged the tired traveller up the stairs. Moominmamma watched them warmly as both her son and her unspoken adopted son disappeared in the darkness.

Snufkin almost sank right into the bed as he laid down in it. Both he and Moomin were under the thick covers, grateful that they were warming up once again in the dark, cold attic room. Moomin often hated this time of year because it meant that Snufkin was going to be leaving. However at the same time, he loved it because it meant that he can have moments like this with his best friend. He desperately wanted to know what happened to make Snufkin suddenly come to Moominhouse so late, but he knew better than to ask about it.

“Snufkin?” He asked. Snufkin only groaned softly as he opened his tired eyes. “I won’t ask you about what happened, but if you ever want to talk about it, or anything else that is troubling you, I’ll always be ready to listen.”

“Thank you...Moomin...” Snufkin tiredly smiled before he drifted back to sleep. Moomin gently held his hand, watching his friend return to a peaceful sleep. The young troll smiled a little at how relaxed his face looked. He yawned as silently as he could before his head sank into the pillows.

“Happy Halloween, Snufkin.” He whispered, before he slipped right back into a blissful sleep.

And nightmares didn’t plague the household for the rest of the night, as if all the spooks that were to come the next night decided that one horrifying nightmare was more than enough to scare the vagabond.

Happy Halloween everyone!

Possession Chapter 1: click HERE

#moomin #snufkin #moominpappa #moominmamma #little my #sniff #snorkmaiden #joxter #possession sequel

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erinelezabeth920 · 4 years

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Love in the Time Of

Nostalgia. Do you remember the last trip you went on? Maybe it was a road trip, or a flight above patchwork plains? Or maybe a visit to family, the old and familiar grating with the growth of life? Do you remember that feeling of just... moving? The passing trees, the stirring as the landscape shuffles and re-arranges itself into your own soul puzzle. It’s a wanderlust- inherent, vital and deep. I remember wind on the mountains- Wyoming maybe or wildflowers in a spring breeze in Colorado. I remember a trumpet in New Orleans in the rain, walking the streets in a whisky daze, taking in melodies that wedged their way into my body like the droplets that fell from the sky. Last night I drank rose and watched an episode of Ken Burns’ documentary on country music. They were at the beginnings, origins until 1930s or so. The sound of the banjo, harmonica, fiddle, mandolin all merging from different areas of the word- the banjo out of Africa and the Caribbean into the horrors of slavery, used to uplift out of a deep and lasting persecution until even the whispered legacy was taken and mangled for white gain. The mandolin from Italy and continental Europe, and the fiddle from the English ballads, Scottish Highlands all merging for something completely new. As I watched, and the melodies faded in and out, I remembered nights in the mountains trying to strum my little guitar under a desert moon. I remembered Indiana, driving through rain listening to bluegrass. I remembered stories my mother and aunts told me of my grandfather, who died when I was in high school. He used to sit on the porch through summer nights and strum his guitar, singing all the old country ballads out of the hills and radio of the 1930s, occasionally throwing in a yodel to the fireflies dotting the upstate New York corn fields. Add that to the Irish and Scottish heritage that runs through my veins, and I’m drawn to the fiddle and picking like a moth to light. I had been listening to an episode of ‘Dolly Parton’s America’ while I cooked dinner; pasta and vegetables while the rain pounded outside. From my headphones, Jad Abumrad had been describing Dolly’s ‘Tennessee Mountain Home’ and the essence of nostalgia in country music. A longing for simpler times. ‘Country music,’ he had said as I strained the pasta into the sink, “is immigrant music.” He went into it a bit. Country music, at its core, is about a longing for something that is gone. A home that once was. A front porch. The sound of a river, or the whistle of a train to unknown places. A sense of home that can’t even be expressed except through a melody that you somehow feel you’ve known your whole life. Once the podcast ended, I sat with my glass of wine out of a can and pasta in front of the TV. Andy was hosting a DnD sesion in the bedroom. I scrolled until I found the PBS episode. I drank my wine and slurped pasta as we went deep into black and white photos and voiced-over stories as Ken Burns does. The origins of those old folk songs we know well, (think “O Brother Where Art Thou” soundtrack), one song taken from the other until they’re blended into our conscious and unconscious history. “Music,” Jad had said, “is the soundtrack to our lives. Wherever we go, its with us. And that’s how we mixed.” Jimmie Rodgers circa 1929 travelled around “catching songs.” He’d drive sometimes 90 miles into the hills to listen to someone singing in their kitchen, gather it up in a flutter of shifting memories and dust, and put it down to record. When “Mule Skinner Blues’ began playing over some old photos, I yelped, “Holy crap that’s Dolly’s song!” I knew it was an old folk tune, but I didn’t realize it was Jimmie Rodgers, the OG of country according to most. Dolly took the original lick and turned up the volume to 10. “That song,” Jad had said at one point, “is fire.” Twenty or so minutes later, as the episode credits rolled, lo and behold Dolly’s version began playing. I let the credits roll until finished. Then I turned off the TV and sank into the couch. Silence.

“Okay Google,” I called to the kitchen, “...play ‘Mule Skinner Blues’ by Dolly Parton.”

Jad’s right. That song is fire.

When it finished, too lazy to bother, the Spotify algorithm marched on with the next song. It was Dolly’s voice, but she was singing ‘The Story.’ “Isn’t this Brandi’s song?” Andy asked from the computer where he was now playing video games.

“I think so?” I googled it. Brandi Carlisle, 2007. Dolly Parton cover. “Damn,” I said, “Dolly’s covering Brandi? That’s epic.” “Okay Google, play ‘The Story’ by Brandi Carlisle.” Dolly’s version was fine, but Brandi is the new queen. I laid on the couch and listened. As her gritty, smooth voice washed over me, I remembered Chattanooga, Tennessee in early September. I remembered sitting in a lawn of a big park, festival lights strung through the heavy leaves, a wide river, humid skies, a big moon. The day had been sweltering, but by the time Brandi came out for her headliner it had cooled to an ease. The grass was full of people, standing, sitting, or somewhere in between. The air dripped and hummed and turned indigo as she sang her first note. Google then moved on to Joni Mitchell. Good job algorithm, because I happened to remember that Tennessee night in September, Brandi telling us that Joni was her idol. She was going to have a chance in a month or so to play the album ‘Blue’ all the way through for Joni herself. ‘I’m going to royally fuck up,” she told us. “I need to practice on you.” So she did. I closed my eyes. The moon reflected in scintillations on the river. I thought she sounded like warm honey. I went to get up, to turn off the music and go to bed. It was late and I had to work in the morning. As I walked over toward the kitchen the little white screen on the counter tucked behind the coffee maker, as if in a small act of defiance, struck up some solemn piano chords. The beginning of ‘I And Love And You’ by the Avett Brothers. I sighed softly, cursed the Spotify algorithm for being too damn good, and slowly walked back to the couch. I laid down and closed my eyes.

Immediately I saw in my mind the wide Columbia River at sunset, the sweeping rocks and plains of Eastern Washington. The music filled the gorge like a bowl, rising up as if from the river itself. I’ve seen the Avett Brothers twice live, both times at the Gorge Amphitheater sitting next to friends as the sky lit on fire. The clouds turned orange to dark blue, and the lights of the stage looked like heaven twinkling. I could feel the blanket beneath me, the cold grass, the gentle swaying of the bodies of my friends beside me. “Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in... are you aware the shape I’m in. My hands they shake my head it spins. Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in.” The mighty Columbia flowed dark and wide in the space beyond.

(The Gorge, August 2019) Back in the apartment, eyes still closed as the notes lingered, trying to hold on to the wisps of memories, Google moved on to “The Joke”. Back to Brandi. If you know that song, I don’t need to explain. The music swelled. She basically shattered her emotions through the ceiling in a soaring arc of notes. I thought of her, young and unknown busking at Pike Place, the folk ringing through her voice surrounded by the grunge of the 90s in back bars and alleys. You can hear it in her songs, the moody gray sky, ocean and deep misty mountains, chunky guitar and angst. They try to put us in boxes, slap on labels but the joke’s on them. It’s ‘the rub’, as Ken Burns called it. Seattle and folk, Tennessee and jazz. Slavery and persecution, reconstruction and high rises. The rub of people and place, the mixing and sighing of ideas like notes mingling in the night air. “Imagine a ship,” says Jad. “Nineteenth century, whaling ship maybe in the Indian Ocean. Full of people from different cultures, places. What did they have with them? Likely instruments. And a lot of free time.” Do you remember the last trip you took? The sounds, the sights, the smells passing you by like dandelion seeds drifting in the wind. They latch onto your coarse sweaters, stick to your old shoes. Maybe they’re discarded, or they take root, slowly growing into something more. You know that scene at the end of Lord of the Rings, where Sam and Frodo are on the side of Mt. Doom and Frodo says, “No Sam, I can’t recall The Shire, nor the taste of strawberries?” Sometimos, especially recently, I feel like that. I know it’s dramatic, but it’s also true. The hug of a friend, a seething mass of bodies at a concert, the electricity of a new city, or moonlight floating on a river as Joni Mitchell is practiced to the Tennessee sky. It’s the rub, brushing up against life, re-inventing ourselves over and over, growing like the dandelion into our veins, a little newer each time. I miss it. I told Google to turn off the music. The rain outside had stopped. I got up off the couch. Andy sat at the computer, headphones on. I brushed my teeth and went to bed, the silence of the apartment heavy as a blanket. And somewhere in the space between sleep and dreams, a fiddle flickered a tune, fading into the ether like moonlight falling on the dark water below.

#country music #live music #quarantine #creative writing #mental health #seattle #music #travel

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blackistory · 5 years

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BIG MAMA THORNTON THE ORIGINATOR OFTHE HOUND DOG SONG

Thornton's birth certificate states that she was born in Ariton, Alabama,[5] but in an interview with Chris Strachwitz she claimed Montgomery, Alabama, as her birthplace, probably because Montgomery was better known than Ariton.[6] She was introduced to music in a Baptist church, where her father was a minister and her mother a singer. She and her six siblings began to sing at early ages.[7] Her mother died young, and Willie Mae left school and got a job washing and cleaning spittoons in a local tavern. In 1940 she left home and, with the help of Diamond Teeth Mary, joined Sammy Green's Hot Harlem Revue and was soon billed as the "New Bessie Smith".[6] Her musical education started in the church but continued through her observation of the rhythm-and-blues singers Bessie Smith and Memphis Minnie, whom she deeply admired.

Early career

Thornton's career began to take off when she moved to Houston in 1948. "A new kind of popular blues was coming out of the clubs in Texas and Los Angeles, full of brass horns, jumpy rhythms, and wisecracking lyrics."[9] In 1951 she signed a recording contract with Peacock Records and performed at the Apollo Theater in 1952. Also in 1952, while working with another Peacock artist Johnny Otis, she recorded "Hound Dog", the first record produced by its writers Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. The pair were present at the recording,[10] with Leiber demonstrating the song in the vocal style they had envisioned;[11][12] "We wanted her to growl it," Stoller said, which she did. Otis played drums, after the original drummer was unable to play an adequate part. The record sold more than half a million copies, and went to number one on the R&B chart,[13] helping to bring in the dawn of rock 'n' roll.[14] Although the record made Thornton a star, she saw little of the profits.

On Christmas Day 1954 in a theatre in Houston, Texas, she witnessed fellow performer Johnny Ace, also signed to Duke and Peacock record labels, accidentally shoot and kill himself while playing with a .22 pistol.[16] Thornton continued to record for Peacock until 1957 and performed in R&B package tours with Junior Parker and Esther Phillips.

Thornton's success with "Hound Dog" was followed three years later by Elvis Presleyrecording his hit version of the song.[10] His recording at first annoyed Leiber who wrote, "I have no idea what that rabbit business is all about. The song is not about a dog, it's about a man, a freeloading gigolo."[14] But Elvis' version sold ten million copies, so today few fans know that "Hound Dog" began as "an anthem of black female power."[14] Similarly, Thornton originally recorded her song "Ball 'n' Chain" for Bay-Tone Records in the early 1960s, "and though the label chose not to release the song... they did hold on to the copyright"—which meant that Thornton missed out on the publishing royalties when Janis Joplin recorded the song later in the decade.

Success

As her career began to fade in the late 1950s and early 1960s,[2] she left Houston and relocated to the San Francisco Bay area, "playing clubs in San Francisco and L.A. and recording for a succession of labels",[8]notably the Berkeley-based Arhoolie Records. In 1965, she toured with the American Folk Blues Festival in Europe,[17] where her success was notable "because very few female blues singers at that time had ever enjoyed success across the Atlantic."[18] While in England that year, she recorded her first album for Arhoolie, Big Mama Thornton – In Europe. It featured backing by blues veterans Buddy Guy (guitar), Fred Below (drums), Eddie Boyd (keyboards), Jimmy Lee Robinson (bass), and Walter "Shakey" Horton (harmonica), except for three songs on which Fred McDowell provided acoustic slide guitar.

In 1966, Thornton recorded her second album for Arhoolie, Big Mama Thornton with the Muddy Waters Blues Band – 1966, with Muddy Waters (guitar), Sammy Lawhorn (guitar), James Cotton (harmonica), Otis Spann(piano), Luther Johnson (bass guitar), and Francis Clay (drums). She performed at the Monterey Jazz Festival in 1966 and 1968. Her last album for Arhoolie, Ball n' Chain, was released in 1968. It was made up of tracks from her two previous albums, plus her composition "Ball and Chain" and the standard "Wade in the Water". A small combo, including her frequent guitarist Edward "Bee" Houston, provided backup for the two songs. Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company's performance of "Ball 'n' Chain" at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967 and the release of the song on their number one album Cheap Thrills renewed interest in Thornton's career.

By then the American blues revival had come to an end. While the original blues acts like Thornton mostly played smaller venues, younger people played their versions of blues in massive arenas for big money. Since the blues had seeped into other genres of music, the blues musician no longer needed impoverishment or geography for substantiation; the style was enough. While at home the offers became fewer and smaller, things changed for good in 1972, when Thornton was asked to rejoin the American Folk Blues Festival tour. She thought of Europe as a good place for herself, and, with the lack of engagements in the United States, she agreed happily. The tour, beginning on March 2, took Thornton to Germany, France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, the Netherlands, Denmark, Norway, Finland, and Sweden, where it ended on March 27 in Stockholm. With her on the bill were Eddie Boyd, Big Joe Williams, Robert Pete Williams, T- Bone Walker, Paul Lenart, Hartley Severns, Edward Taylor and Vinton Johnson. As in 1965, they garnered recognition and respect from other musicians who wanted to see them.

Late career and death

In the 1970s, years of heavy drinking began to damage Thornton's health. She was in a serious auto accident but recovered to perform at the 1973 Newport Jazz Festivalwith Muddy Waters, B.B. King, and Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson (a recording of this performance, The Blues—A Real Summit Meeting, was released by Buddha Records). Thornton's last albums were Jail and Sassy Mama for Vanguard Records in 1975. Other songs from the recording session were released in 2000 on Big Mama Swings. Jailcaptured her performances during mid-1970s concerts at two prisons in the northwestern United States.[6] She was backed by a blues ensemble that featured sustained jams by George "Harmonica" Smith and included the guitarists Doug Macleod, Bee Houston and Steve Wachsman; the drummer Todd Nelson; the saxophonist Bill Potter; the bassist Bruce Sieverson; and the pianist J. D. Nicholson. She toured extensively through the United States and Canada, played at the Juneteenth Blues Fest in Houston and shared the bill with John Lee Hooker.[6] She performed at the San Francisco Blues Festival in 1979 and the Newport Jazz Festival in 1980. In the early 1970s, Thornton's sexual proclivities became a question among blues fans.[9] Big Mama also performed in the "Blues Is a Woman" concert that year, alongside classic blues legend Sippie Wallace, sporting a man's three-piece suit, straw hat, and gold watch. She sat at center stage and played pieces she wanted to play, which were not on the program.[20]Thornton took part in the Tribal Stomp at Monterey Fairgrounds, the Third Annual Sacramento Blues Festival, and the Los Angeles Bicentennial Blues with BB King and Muddy Waters. She was a guest on an ABC-TV special hosted by actor Hal Holbrook and was joined by Aretha Franklin and toured through the club scene. She was also part of the award-winning PBS television special Three Generations of the blues with Sippie Wallace and Jeannie Cheatham.[6]

Thornton was found dead at age 57 by medical personnel in a Los Angeles boarding house[21] on July 25, 1984. She died of heart and liver disorders due to her longstanding alcohol abuse. She had lost 355 pounds (161 kg) in a short time as a result of illness, her weight dropping from 450 to 95 pounds (204–43 kg).

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