Riehl World View

Good Morning America

I've been pretty sick since CPAC but haven't wanted to say much about it. Just a bug, but it morphed and took a couple different antibiotics before, hopefully, it's finally started being rooted out. Started with the Flu, I guess - and went from there. That's why the light posting and ornery disposition when I have, probably.

Anyway ... here's a little ditty from The Highwaymen with some interesting history. Part of the back story certainly makes Arlo Guthrie look like a freaking jerk. If it wasn't for Guthrie's Father Woody, we wouldn't have had to endure the mostly untalented fool. Figures he's a Paulbot. Goodman battled Leukemia throughout most of his career.

While at the Quiet Knight, Goodman saw Arlo Guthrie, and asked to be allowed to play a song for him. Guthrie grudgingly agreed, on the condition that Goodman buy him a beer first; Guthrie would listen to Goodman for as long as it took Guthrie to drink the beer.

City of New Orleans:

A Saturday Sampler

Featuring Natalie Merchant.

Kind and Generous

Give them what they want - a better musical version here without Stipe

Slow News Day?

Not quite silent, but I haven't posted any music in a while and nice to take a break from it all, especially given what I imagine we're in for right ahead - non-stop campaigning with no punches being pulled.

Thanksgiving 1975 - get passed the turkey bit for The Boxer. Ha. When it came out I still remember being able to go to the local deli that had magazines and you could see the word "whores" in print in Words and Music. My, haven't we come a loooooooooooong way? Shame, really. Actually, a better version of it here, though. The original is here.

Anyway, you can enjoy the Central Park version of this next piece here. I like the harmony in the original below.

Another one from, I believe, the concert in Central Park.

Actually, They Booed Elvis

via an Instapundit link to Mickey Kaus:

(Elvis’s death in 1977 rated two paragraphs in People Magazine.)

I like Presley's music well enough, but I've never forgotten the night Elvis died, not because I'm an Elviphile, but because I was in a dance club in Seaside, NJ when the DJ stopped the music long enough to announce it and the assorted John Travolta wannabes, Barry Gibb poseurs and their babes all started to boo and hiss. Within seconds Donna Summer, or maybe the Star Wars theme re-mix, or perhaps it was the Latin Hustle was again incessantly and inanely pounding its way out of the sound system.

Had it been Lionel Richie or any of those named above who had died, People Magazine would have had a huge spread - same goes ten or so years earlier had it been David Cassidy, 20 years earlier Bobby Sherman, and so forth. Anyone who thinks the celebrity culture started with Princess Di may know about celebrity today, but they know very little about the history of American culture.

About The Hendrix Clip, Your Mother

Someone asked - what's the big deal about Jimi Hendrix, yadda, yadda. I understand, frankly, without a studio and sometimes a lot of post production, his stuff can be pretty raw. But he broke barriers and I made the argument that was his genius, upon which others built. Check this out from SVR below - you'll see what I mean. And then check out Hendrix playing it in 1968 after writing it for his Mother in 67 - and look at all the artists who have covered it.

Speaking of which, here's a potential little rock bummer, if you weren't aware - ever think 3AM by Matchbox Twenty was, at the time, a funky-kinda tune about a young crazy funky kinda chick? Sorry, that was written by Rob Thomas for his Mother. As a child, he supposedly took care of her when she was sick with cancer. She survived.

And Somewhere A Queen Is Weeping

Well, I covered the feminists, might as well cover the queens, too - this is what I was actually thinking about when I wrote this header. This is actually the better, produced version, but there's no video.

A Little Travelin' Music

I'll be on the road for a day or two ... time to get out a few custom CD's and crank up the car stereo with some driving tunes.

Hope for good weather.

thats the way its supposed to be.

Oh and as a total aside, to clear up any confusion and give a little h/t to the anti-war crowd while I'm at it: Eat A Peach

The widespread story regarding the origin of the album's title, that the truck involved in Duane Allman's fatal motorcycle accident was a peach truck, is not correct; the truck involved was actually a flatbed lumber truck. The name actually came from something Duane said in an interview shortly before he was killed. When asked what he was doing to help the anti-war effort, Duane replied, "There ain't no revolution, it's evolution, but every time I'm in Georgia I eat a peach for peace; the two-legged Georgia variety."

Shame I'm headin' North, I guess! Heh!

Cry Baby

I think the biggest cry baby going in the blogosphere today has to be John Cole. But he's been crying so long and so hard and it's always so angry anymore, you're left with nothing more than pity as a reaction, really. He just ends up looking more sad, than anything else to me these days. But as we're on the topic, I'll leave you with this otherwordly Pearl below. You might actually end up pitying Janis in some ways, too. I do. However, unlike Cole, she was, um, actually talented at what she did. God was she ever.

Tupelo Honey

I had a request for Tupelo Honey by Van Morrison, which I've been kicking around posting anyway. I love the song but it can be hard to find good versions of many songs on line. Trying to find good old Allman Bros with Duane can be tough, for example.

Anyway, two good versions of Tupelo Honey I'll link but not embed. This version sounds most like the classic version you generally hear on the radio.

And this from Montreux is more stylized with an awesome Sax riff early in.

Now, if you really want to let the Van carry you away, Morrison doesn't do the initial vocals on this, though he comes in. It's more in line with his fondness for improvisation and the Sax absolutely kills it. Hell, I'm going to embed it, too. Enjoy!

In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed

The way it's supposed to be played, live and with Duane. Written by Dickey Betts and, yes, as the legend goes, named for a headstone in Rose Hill Cemetary.