17 August, 2012

I Can Still Make Cheyenne // George Strait


He left that phone dangling off the hook
Then slowly turned around and gave it one last look
Then he just walked away
He aimed his truck toward that Wyoming line
With a little luck he could still get there in time
-----

"I Can Still Make Cheyenne", written by Aaron Barker and Erv Woolsey, performed by George Strait, from the album Blue Clear Sky, 1996 A man works his life on the road to make a living as a rodeo cowboy. After not making the "short-go", the final round in bullriding, he calls his love back home to tell her he is coming to be with her, possibly never returning to the sport. A female, possibly a wife or girlfriend back home, worries for his safety everyday given the inherant dangers of bullriding. Fed up with the constant stress of wondering if he is ok, she finally confesses over the phone that she is leaving him for another man. The man makes his own confession that, though it pains him to, he will still try to make Cheyenne. This is a reference to Cheyenne Frontier Days in Cheyenne, Wyoming, USA, the largest rodeo in the United States and possibly one of the largest in the world. By giving up such an important event to be with her, he made one of the biggest sacrifices a cowboy could make.

To those who may not be familiar with Westerns and western culture, this is quite a sad song if you can't relate. Rodeo is a HUGE sport, and those who attempt it tend to make it their lives. Only the toughest can do it, and even then few can stay long enough to get good at it. He was willing to give up a dream just to be with the woman he loved and she turned her back on him. And rightfully so. The lines "Don't bother coming home.../There's somebody new and he sure ain't no rodeo man" shows the pain she has felt for the life her man choose to lead. She's through with the heartache of caring for a man see never sees and never knowing if he'll ever come home again should a bull trample his head. Ouch.
Her telephone rang 'bout a quarter to nine
She heard his voice on the other end of the line
She wondered what was wrong this time
She never knew what his calls might bring
With a cowboy like him it could be anything
And she always expected the worst in the back of her mind.

He said, "It's cold out here and I'm all alone,
I didn't make the short go again and I'm coming home.
I know I've been away too long.
I never got a chance to write or call
And I know this rodeo has been hard on us all
But I'll be home soon and honey is there something wrong?"

She said, "Don't bother comin' home.
By the time you get here I'll be long gone.
There's somebody new and he sure ain't no rodeo man."
He said, "I'm sorry it's come down to this.
There's so much about you that I'm gonna miss.
But it's alright baby, if I hurry I can still make Cheyenne.
Gotta go now baby, if I hurry I can still make Cheyenne.
He left that phone danglin' off the hook
Then slowly turned around and gave it one last look
Then he just walked away
He aimed his truck toward that Wyoming line
With a little luck he could still get there in time
And in that Cheyenne wind he could still hear her say.

She said, "Don't bother comin' home.
By the time you get here I'll be long gone.
There's somebody new and he sure ain't no rodeo man."
He said, "I'm sorry it's come down to this.
There's so much about you that I'm gonna miss.
But it's alright baby, if I hurry I can still make Cheyenne.
Gotta go now baby, if I hurry I can still make Cheyenne.

23 July, 2012

Brothers In Arms // Dire Straits




But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms
-----
Brothers In Arms, written by Mark Knopfler, performed by Dire Straits, 1985, from the album “Brothers In Arms”


A powerful melodic combination of poetic symbolism and meaning with intertwined instrumentation and emotion that soothes in its quietness and tranquility, yet inspires a larger meaning and for a new outlook in one's life. If each individual part is taken on its own, the song still remains beautiful and strong. The lyrics read like poetry. The emotions remain with you after the song fades. The music sets you at ease.


Brothers in Arms is inspired by the Falklands War, a 'limited war' between Argentina and the United Kingdom during 1982 lasting 74 days. It was a result of an endless dispute over the sovereignty of the Falkland Islands and South Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands near the southeast tip of the South American continent. The ruling military government, the Proceso de Reorganización Nacional or National Reorganization Process, diverted public attention from poor economic performance in the nation (a possible sign of poor leadership, thus the people would lose faith in their leaders) and exploited feelings of the Argentinians towards the islands.
Map showing the British route south toward the Falklands
This, compounded by the United Kingdom's reduction in military capacity in the South Atlantic, encouraged the invasion. On April 2nd, 1982 then-dictator Leopoldo Galtieri gave authority for Argentine forces to invade and overtake the Falkland islands, which were still under British authority at the time. After fierce naval and air battles, the British were able to secure the islands and cause the Argentinians to surrender. A total of 904 people were killed in the conflict, with 649 casualties on the Argentine side. By June 14th, 1982 the status quo ante bellum or "the state in which things were before the war" was restored. To this day Argentina still maintains that the Falklands are Argentine territory and have included this claim in reformation of the country by adding it into the new Argentine constitution on 1994.


Soldiers from the 101st Airborne Division pose at the end of a patrol near Wynot, Iraq
But interpreted more broadly, this song tells a story of any soldier fighting for something he may or may not believe in. It speaks of the uncooperative nature of humanity and our innate desire to have more than our fellow man and to be filled with greed. The poisoned souls of greedy men would rather threaten, maim, or kill their own people in the name of believed progress or to maintain a status quo instead of working with one another for a common goal. We wish to hurt and fear those whom we deem different than the norm, yet it is often the case those who are different than us are those whom we choose not to understand because psychologically throwing a punch is easier than extending a hand to shake in agreement. Firing a rifle is cheaper and easier than working with one another past language barriers and cultural contradictions.

A peaceful life in the country or a quiet small town must ask of a young man his life and his body to fight for his country, his fellow man, or to save people in need. This journey into an unknown and deadly world of conflict may arise from voluntary enlistment or through a government conscription program that tears able young men out of their homes, family and friends. A communication breakdown between two parties causes armed conflict in which man is set against man, brother set against brother. A gun is thrust into their hands and they are sent to a country they've never heard of to kill someone who may have done them no wrong. They fight because they know what they are doing is right. To think otherwise of the reality of the situation and what they have been trained to do, to carry out an agenda of power through murder and destruction, would set a man against himself and cause untold amounts of psychological trauma and self-hatred. Both sides fight for the same reasons, yet neither often knows exactly why, but fight with the same diligence and gung-ho attitude as their supposed enemy. It is not uncommon for these young men to disagree with the reasons for conflict and the actions their government may take. Nonetheless, they are forced to fight or face both legal detention and societal repression should they abandon their country to return to the simple life they had before there was conflict and aggression by laying down their weapon in a time of war.

To me, this is a song that has the entire package. It is both intellectually and artistically valuable and tells a story while presenting an idea of peace that will endure over generations, while not being too preachy in its message.


Check out this cool guy playing a piano cover:


The lyrics in full:

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I've witnessed your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different words
So many different songs
We have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms


Image credits:
Department of History, United States Military Academy
Department of the Army

11 July, 2012

The Brothers // Merle Haggard and George Jones


I wonder he'd be right now
If he was not a dreamer
And if he was just a little more like me
He wouldn't be in Nashville
Reaching for the stars
And wishing things were like they used to be
-----

"The Brothers", written by Dave Kirby, performed by Merle Haggard and George Jones, from the album A Taste of Yesterday's Wine, 1982

The song is told from two separate perspectives: One (George Jones) from the brother who went off to make music in Nashville and one (Merle Haggard) from the view of the family he left, possibly another brother as the title suggests. The brother loaded up with guitar, his dream, and probably a good pair of boots and left Colorado to chase his hope of becoming a music star. He made his way to Nashville, Tennessee, the home of country music boasting the Grand Ole Opry, the Country Music Hall of Fame, and an annual economic income of about $6 billion per year thanks to the second largest music production center in the US behind New York. After a few years he still has not found any attention from the record labels and is becoming tired and somewhat regretful of his choice. When the brother writes home he only speaks of others in the family and not of his own success, and not out of modesty. Life has been going to same depressing way for years now with nothing new to report. His letters have become more and more vicarious over the last few months and he has begun speaking of his regrets more and more. He writes back a letter to his mother asking how everything is going back home and if his brothers are doing well. One brother, a construction worker named Joe, is out in Colorado and has drawn admiration because of how hard he works for his money. The other brother, Sonny, has been trying to buy a ranch for a few years now, if he he has finally closed a deal on it Sonny's dream with come true. The unnamed brother is jealous of the successes his siblings have had and wishes he could just come back home, but is too embarrassed to come back until he and his guitar get lucky and finds his own success to be proud of.

The second perspective is as much worried about the future as the first, but for a different reason. The family knows how long it has been and that if he was going to get lucky it would've happened long ago. They know he doesn't want to return home without his dream and devoid of hope he'll ever make it but they also know the fear he has of never making it big is keeping him away longer than he needs to be. He has run out of money and probably doesn't have "a nickel in his jeans". His songs are "getting faded" because either he has not written anything new because he is banking on the songs he brought to Nashville or he has lost the energy and ambition to put any emotion into the songs he knows in his heart are not working for him anymore. The family wants him to know that anytime he wants to come home from reaching for the stardom he'll never find he can depend on them to help him back onto his feet and into something where he can make something of himself.

Several years ago
He gave up everything that mattered
And rambled off to Nashville, Tennessee
With a pocket full of country songs
And his old guitar
He thought that's where
He was supposed to be

But the family's still here waiting
And his songs are getting faded
There's probably not a nickel in his jeans
But if he don't get good enough
To sing his way back home
He knows that he can always count on me

Momma, is Joe still drivin' them old nails
Out in Colorado?
Lord, I always thought a lot of him.
You know, maybe someday me and this old guitar
Just might happen to get lucky
And I'll get a chance to go back and visit my old friends.
Did Sonny get that ranch he always wanted
Out by Boulder?
I used to want to be a cowboy, too.
But I'm still stuck here in Nashville
Writing songs and getting older.
But mostly I was thinking about you.

I wonder he'd be right now
If he was not a dreamer
And if he was just a little more like me?
He wouldn't be in Nashville
Reaching for the stars
And wishing things were like they used to be

Mom, is Joe still drivin' them old nails
In Colorado?
I always thought a lot of him.
Maybe someday me and this old guitar
Is gonna happen to get lucky
And I'll come back and visit my old friends.
Momma, did Sonny get that ranch that he always wanted
Out by Boulder?
I used to want to be a cowboy, too.
But, Momma, I'm still stuck here in Nashville
Writing songs and getting older.
But mostly I been thinking about you.

05 July, 2012

Puff, the Magic Dragon // Peter, Paul and Mary



A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giants' rings make way for other toys
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar
-----
"Puff, the Magic Dragon" written by Leonard Lipton and Peter Yarrow, 1963, based on a poem from 1959, performed by Peter, Paul and Mary; from the album Moving

A young boy, Little Jackie Paper, spends his days by the sea with his imaginary friend, a dragon named Puff. The little boy has the time of his life playing games and just being a kid with his magical friend. But, we all must grow up sometime and Little Jackie Paper grew up and left Puff behind along with his childhood. Puff is depressed at being left all alone and in place of choosing to find adventures with a new friend simply hides away in his cave never to be seen again (The original poem had a final verse where Puff meets someone new, but whatever. It's more sad this way).

Leonard Lipton was a 19-year-old student at Cornell University who was inspired to write a short poem about a pet dragon after reading Ogden Nash's "Custard the Dragon". Lipton was friends with a housemate of Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul and Mary fame and used Yarrow's typewriter to put down the poem on paper. After writing what was a much longer version than in the song, it was forgotten about until Yarrow called Lipton about crediting him for the song they would later record (and would reach number 2 on the Billboard charts).

Yes, you've heard it before. Yes, it is a kid's song. And, yes, it is terribly sad. And, no, it isn't a song about drugs. It's about a dragon. Who presumably does drugs. Can you imagine smoking with a dragon? And he'd just talk about other dragons he's smoked with? Whoa. It's a song almost everyone knows from somewhere. It's a song you may have sung in your class as a kid. I have known about this song since I was very young, but never really understood the last verse until I was in college. It's a song most people hear as a happy song about a funny dragon and a young boy who are best friends. Yet it is one of the saddest songs ever written because it deals with something every grown-up has had to reflect on at some point: the end of being a kid. (Personally, I was never a kid. I was sold to the factories at age 3 and when my caretakers perished in a fire at age 6, I went of to the Mojave Desert to raise myself. There, a pack of Jack London-esque wolves took me in and raised me as their own. After a few years they accepted me as their leader and I become El Rey de los Lobos, the King of the Wolves. But that's another thing altogether.)

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff,
And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. Oh

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff's gigantic tail,
Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name. Oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giants' rings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. Oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

28 June, 2012

Sailing to Philadelphia // Mark Knopfler



Now you're a good surveyor, Dixon
But I swear you'll make me mad
The West will kill us both
You gullible Geordie lad
You talk of liberty
How can America be free
A Geordie and a baker's boy
In the forests of the Iroquois
-----
"Sailing to Philadelphia" written by Mark Knopfler and James Taylor, performed by Mark Knopfler and James Taylor, from Sailing to Philadelphia, 2000

First released on the album of the same name, Sailing to Philadelphia tells the story of two men, Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, both English surveyors who were chosen to draw the border between Delaware, Maryland, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia in the American colonies during the 1760's. There was dispute over what land fell to what state on the Maryland-Pennsylvania border, and where exactly the borders were drawn. In 1760's the Proprietor of Baltimore in the Province of Maryland was forced to accept an agreement stating that the border was to be marked by the latitude 15 miles south of the southern most house in Philadelphia. At this point, parties of both sides called for Mason and Dixon to survey the newly established boundaries near the aforementioned four colonies.


The Mason-Dixon line, as it was and still is often called, became an unofficial marker for the boundary between the declared slave states and free states in the late 1700's and early 1800's until the end of the Civil War and the creation of the Thirteenth Amendment in 1865. I'm sure of of my American fans know all of the Amendments by heart, right? Didn't think so. Needless to say, it abolished slavery. FUN FACT: Mississippi didn't ratify the amendment until 1995, 130 years later, and that was only symbolically. Git-r-dun.

Here's the scene: I go Last.fm to listen to the radio and tell myself for the thousandth time I need to make an account. I type in 'Mark Knopfler' into the search, radio comes on. Lo-and-behold, it is a duet with James "chicken choking motherfucking" Taylor. I must have listened to this song thirty times over in a row on a repeat that night. That was the only song I listened to for over two hours. Anyway, like I said, another great by Knopfler with full lyrical quality, musical quality, and vocal quality and of course his way of playing his more quiet songs off in the the æther. Its a song that doesn't seem to end, or more it finishes but has no ending like it could go on forever.

I am Jeremiah Dixon
I am a Geordie boy
A glass of wine with you, sir
And the ladies I'll enjoy
All Durham and Northumberland
Is measured up by my own hand
It was my fate from birth
To make my mark upon the earth...

He calls me Charlie Mason
A stargazer am I
It seems that I was born
To chart the evening sky
They'd cut me out for baking bread
But I had other dreams instead
This baker's boy from the west country
Would join the Royal Society...

We are sailing to Philadelphia
A world away from the coaly Tyne
Sailing to Philadelphia
To draw the line
The Mason-Dixon line

Now you're a good surveyor, Dixon
But I swear you'll make me mad
The West will kill us both
You gullible Geordie lad
You talk of liberty
How can America be free
A Geordie and a baker's boy
In the forest of the Iroquois...

Now hold your head up, Mason
See America lies there
The morning tide has raised
The capes of Delaware
Come up and feel the sun
A new morning is begun
Another day will make it clear
Why your stars should guide us here...

We are sailing to Philadelphia
A world away from the coaly Tyne
Sailing to Philadelphia
To draw the line
The Mason-Dixon line

image credit: Post-Gazette

____________

After over a year and no updates I'm resuming this blog again. I enjoy it too much not to. I had walked away because of school and other 'life issues' but since then I've heard some great music I want to tell people about. I've noticed that when I talk about certain songs with my friends now I can relay the entire history of the song, the release date, the history of the band, and if it is a song that has a rich story behind it I can teach a little bit and even learn something myself. The BS Jukebox won't be updated tri-weekly like before but rather when I can get around to writing a longer and more substantial piece about the music. As always, there is the email address ( backselljukebox@gmail.com ) where you can send me a song you really like and if it isn't complete crap (or rather "not my brand of crap") then I'd love to feature it here.