Friday, January 25, 2008
John Stewart, American Original
John Stewart's California Bloodlines is as fine a singer-songwriter album that was ever produced in the era when that medium and artform was arguably as important and impressive as any other contemporaneous expression. From the mid-late sixties to the mid-seventies, a singer songwriter album had the kind of clout, mystique, and cultural power as the poet or novelist did in their day in certain eras past. If Bloodlines had been Stewart's only contribution to American music, even in times less heady, that would have been most notable. But he came in and helped gave the Kingston Trio, one of the most meteoric-risen American institutions (four quick intense years), a second life after Dave Guard left the group in 1961. He kept the high spirits alive with Nick Reynolds and Bob Shane but also brought serious poet songster to the mix. They celebrated the New Frontier and asked where the flowers went when it was over. But then came the Beatles and referee shirts were no longer cool on most any level.
Stewart died this week and all of the obits annoyingly gave his authorship of the Monkee's Daydream Believer as the link contribution for folks to go oh, yeah that guy. Will Neil Diamond be known first for I'm a Believer. Life in death just ain't fair. But that's the way entertainment obits are. Try to name the actor who died last week who was Alice from the Brady Bunch's boyfriend. You probably can't, but water coolers and lunch rooms across this country were babbling about him all week long.
Although I have not heard it in several years, looking at the song listing for California Bloodlines has me remembering and humming every single song. In a way it has connected me for years with the the south of Fresno homeland of my father, I guess those bloodlines of my own. The people and places are unforgettable. There are is the Razorback Woman and the Pirates of Stone County Road who despite human shortfalls and depression dustbowl conditions maintain dignity and dreams. There are the roads of lonesome pickers and Ernesto Juarez and his Omaha Rainbow. There is the ultimate romantic soul who "believes in losers" and "believes in me." There are road songs of resolve. And of course, pure horniness and macho of and the one who is sometimes known as the Saint of San Joaquin, Shannon (daughter of the devil) , and the July who is woman "more than any I have known."
The lyrics of California Bloodlines stand well on their own. These songs have the genius of often risking obscurity or being lost in non sequitur by stanzas that are linked by emotion but characters who pass through the lines linked by the emotion or grand scope of the canvas he is painting. For instance consider this excerpt from "Some Lonesome Picker"
Lilly McLean, you are standing in the rain
And you are cold, you are hungry and afraid
You are waiting for a sunrise
A sunrise makes you feel so very small
Darling Lilly, aren't we all?
Oh I'm believing, believing
Believing, that even when I'm gone
Maybe some lonesome picker will
Find some healing in this song
Julie get the gun, Julie throw it in the river
Let it roll far on out to sea
Let it carry the confusion
The hatred and the worry here in me
River rolling out to sea
Oh I'm believing, believing
Believing, that even when I'm gone
Maybe some lonesome picker will
Find some healing in this song
Lily and Julie are only connected by a chorus, but somehow that seems to be enough.
And then there is Stewart at his anthemic, almost over the top best. This performance of Mother Country from California Bloodlines eight months ago might find him weak of voice but damned strong of heart. I hope you take the time to enjoy the ride of Old Campaigner Sweetheart on Parade one more time.
posted by well-executed buffet at 12:02 AM
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