Alistair Hulett Memorial Concert – Sydney 2020

February 4, 2020February 16, 2020 Daniel Kelly3 Comments

It would have been just after 9:30pm, some two hours into the concert, which had been ticking along at a good pace, thanks to Margaret Walter’s highly efficient direction. The air conditioning, which probably does a good job cooling the Sydney Gaelic Club when Pat and Brian are downing a Guinness on a lazy Saturday, was being pushed to its limits with around 100 people crammed into the venue.

Miguel Heatwole had just finished a song about ‘better times’ (edit: that he wrote and won the Alistair Hulett Social Justice prize with in 2017, lyrics and link in Miguel’s comment below), possibly an old-time style parody about the living standard of working people, accompanied by some toe tapping ragtime style guitar.

After this, Miguel got up on a makeshift soapbox and sang an acapella version of Revolution as sung by Dick Gaughan on his 1997 album A Different Kind of Lovesong. The lyrics to this song were written as a poem by Joseph Bovshover, in Yiddish and published in 1919. Joseph had died in America in 1915 after fleeing oppression under the Tzar in 1891, but his poetry became tied to the Russian Revolution and other global movements for workers’ rights and fair distribution of wealth.

I start at Miguel’s performance, because for me it summed up the feeling of the evening. So many great performers contributed to this memorial event for Alistair Hulett, in Sydney, some 17 thousand kilometres away from Alistair’s native Scotland and ten years after his passing in January 2010.

The evening was opened and closed by the Sydney Solidarity Choir. I have to say, that some of my previous experiences with socialist choirs has been somewhat like Mao’s suits, dull and mostly sung on the same note. This choir was a pleasant surprise, with complex multi-voice rhythm and harmonies which were a delight to listen to, plus the rare sight of a Baroque Guitar (no, not a broke guitar).

Steph Miller, who I had a brief chat with after my set, sang a heartfelt interpretation of Suicide Town. This was one of the first songs by Alistair that I heard, sung to me around a campfire by Judy Pinder some 10 or more years ago. Judy then lent me a copy of Cold Grey Light of Dawn which solidified my admiration for the song writing, artistry and commitment to humanity that Alistair is remembered for. Steph was part of Alistair’s punk band, Roaring Jack.

Chris Maltby, Tom Hanson, Don Brian and Margaret (Forty Degrees South) sang a few of my favourite Alistair social justice songs, including The Day that the Boys Came Down, sadly I didn’t get a photo.

I should caveat the next part by saying that I’m not a Communist or a Socialist. In my teenage extrication from Pentecostal Christianity I read widely, including Marx and Engels. But I also read Mein Kampf, Crowley’s Book of the Law, Gurdjieff and many others. I came to the conclusion that any system which replaces the power held in the hands of a few rotten people, with a few other rotten people, is doomed to fail. Success lies in a revolution inside each human heart, to overthrow greed and envy and bigotry with compassion, tolerance and truth. This is a hard road and, in my view, cannot be travelled by waving pitchforks or throwing Molotov cocktails (or super gluing yourself to the street). I sympathise with the urgent desire to see things change, but in the words of John Lennon, “if you are talking about destruction, you can count me out”.

Emma and Daniel — Emma Norton and Daniel Kenny

Emma Norton and Daniel Kenny played a beautiful pair of songs. I do not wish to offend anyone, but the cognitive dissonance triggered by a couple that would look right at home at a Baptist gospel singalong espousing Marxist values and sing about Red militancy was surprising to say the least. I guess the younger generation of Communists have forgone the Che t-shirt, and camouflage pants.

Bob and Margaret Fagan and Christine Wheeler

A highlight of the night for me was getting to follow Margaret and Bob Fagan. It was their performance of Factory Lad at the 2008 National Folk Festival by Margaret and Bob that set me on the journey which would culminate in the Factory Lad album. Bob did a brilliant acapella version of By Ibrox Park, from Alistair’s In Sleepy Scotland. Sadly there is no rendition of this song on YouTube, which I hope to remedy soon.

Other performs that I haven’t mentioned, but also contributed so well to the evening were Christine Wheeler, Darren Whitaker and Patrick Harte. There were also speeches given by Diane Fieldes, Tim Anderson and Alistair’s sister Alison Popov.

I was honoured to join such a great line-up of performers, and to sing to an audience which so appreciated Alistair and his legacy. I sang Time is Running Out, which was the last song that Alistair wrote. While it was likely written in response to his illness, the words present a stark warning for the current state of our environment and our society.

I don’t often make the four hour journey each way to Sydney to play music, but in this case it was well worth the drive to be part of this moving celebration of Alistair’s life. And also encouraging to see that ten years on, his ideals and words are still valued by so many.

Many thanks to Margaret Walters for organizing and running the event, to Sandra Nixon for running the door and also to Chris Maltby for being an impromptu stage hand.

P.S. I forgot to mention the very fabulous and a little bit naughty Wild Rover Again as sung with much enthusiasm and skill by Kathy Rytmeister.

Crazy Christmas Carol Conflation Challenge

December 22, 2019 Daniel KellyLeave a comment

On my YouTube channel I usually do some sort of Christmas challenge. This year I endeavored to find twelve Christmas related songs and sing them to the melody of another Christmas related song.

I had a lot of fun doing this, and it is interesting to see which songs can be adjusted to fit others. In some cases a line needed re-phrasing and there is always a bit of leeway with the placement and length of syllables.

As I have several books of Christmas songs from ten years of busking in the main street of our town each Christmas, the process involved picking one song and then trying the words out on all the other melodies I had. In most cases the song just doesn’t fit because there are too many lines or too many syllables in each phrase to sing without sounding ridiculous.

You can listen to all twelve songs (plus one posted by a fellow YouTube musician, Michael Hermiston) at the playlist link below.

My favourite achievement is joining Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You with Wham’s Last Christmas.

In theory, I should be able to reverse the process for 2020.

Blog Post · Folk Music · Spirituality and Philosophy

Loving the Common People

July 20, 2019 Daniel Kelly6 Comments

A lot of folk song, due to its origin, speaks about poverty. Some songs that immediately come to mind are Poverty Knock, A Begging I will Go, Four Pence a Day and some that have been recycled several decades apart like Four Loom Weaver (from the Poor Cotton Weaver). No accident that these are all songs I found in Colin Dryden’s repertoire during my recent research work on his career. Colin was clearly a man with a social conscience.

Where I grew to be a Man, by Dorothy Hewett is a good Australian example, often sung under the title Weevils in the Flour. Many of the songs and poems recited by Max Cullen and Warren Fahey in their brilliant adaptation of Henry Lawson and Banjo Paterson’s work, Dead Men Talking, deal directly with poverty and its consequences, sometimes from personal experience of the author, and other times as a compassionate observer.

Songs (and poems) like this have been sung by those with lived experience to draw attention to their plight, to seek solace in a shared expression of their circumstance or simply to ensure that their misery is not lost to history. I don’t think there can be any argument against the value of this, except maybe from those who are the cause of their poverty or profit from them remaining in that state.

There is another side to songs about poverty. I remember listening to the Paul Young version of Love of the Common People on the radio when I was in school. I doubt anyone performing or in the audience of this recording would recognize a ‘common’ person in the street or have any personal lived experience of living on starvation wages or dealing with the prejudice, violence and disenfranchisement which so often comes hand in hand with poverty.

I can believe that John Hurley, one of the writers of the song back in the 1960s, probably did have enough experience, if not personal, then at least from direct contact with people living in poverty. John’s family put this video together of family photos over John’s own recording. You would have to grow up quickly as a child performer in Pittsburgh bar-rooms in the 1950s.

Some of the names that covered John and Ronald Wilkins song include Waylon Jennings, John Denver, Elton John and Leonard Nimoy (yes that one). It is probably safe to say that at the time of recording, none of these people were short of a penny.

Here is where the sticky line of morality arises. Just like Justin Bieber or Shawn Mendes singing about hard drugs, womanizing and the challenges of life from their white middle-class bedrooms at the age of twelve can hardly be convincing, what does it mean when wealthy, or ludicrously wealthy, people sing about being terribly poor?

There are some famous musicians and singers that have made tangible efforts, often at personal risk or expense to make the world a better place. Joan Baez immediately comes to mind with her efforts to end the Vietnam War and establishment of the Institute for the Study of Non-Violence. A cynic would equate this to the study of non-wet water, but at least there was a genuine and tangible action taken seeking a change.

What about those who sing songs about poverty purely to make a few dollars from a bit of virtue signalling and convenient alignment with a topical social issue? An episode of Sacha Baron Cohen’s series Who is America? captures this so beautifully when he gets a Bachelor in Paradise contestant to agree to be photo-shopped into a picture showing her helping African people suffering from Ebola.

Maybe when Elvis sang In the Ghetto, his intent was to trigger social change and not just about needing a top 10 hit after a four year drought. The detail here on Elvis’ charity efforts seems light-on for someone with the lifestyle Elvis was leading. The discussion here during the recording is also enlightening.

And why does it sell? It certainly isn’t people living below the poverty line forking out $20 to buy an album or $200 for a ticket to hear songs about being poor. To use one of the things I hate, made-up academic terms, Poverty Fetishism is what I think is at play here; people who like the idea of being poor, or are thrilled by imagining themselves in a romanticised vision of poverty for a few minutes before purchasing their next Latte or Louis Vuitton handbag.

Love of the Common People was one of the songs in our choir concert this season, which is what got me thinking about this topic. I’ve done a cover here based on the version done by one of my favourite bands, Indigo Girls. I don’t think you can get much more earnest or authentic than the Indigo Girls when it comes to singing about social issues. I know that when they sing this song, it is to share the story of those who are poor with those who might not be so poor, with respect and out of a shared humanity. I hope this is what comes across in my own music.

A Factory Lad - Project · Blog Post · Folk Music

A Factory Lad – Part 5

May 25, 2019May 25, 2019 Daniel Kelly2 Comments

On 10 May I had the great honour of singing a few songs at Duke’s Place in Marrickville, thanks to an invitation from Sandra Nixon. While the audience was small, it was an inspiration to sing in a place that has been part of Australia’s folk music history since 1954. I’m not sure if Colin Dryden ever sang at Hut 44, but the fabulous people I had the chance to meet and speak with were certainly part of the Sydney folk scene that Colin joined in 1965.

The opportunity to sing Poverty Knock and Four Loom Weaver in a venue like this was special indeed. There is no small irony in the fact that the complex which Hut 44 is part of was once an army base. Turning the engines of violence and war into community spaces for music, culture and conscious living is a poignant victory (and don’t we need them at this point in history).

Best of all, after giving a lift home to Margaret Walters, I was handed a CD of 1971 recordings of Colin at the Elizabeth Hotel, a venue which was a key part of the Sydney folk revival and mentioned by Warren Fahey here. My three hour drive back to Yass was filled with some truly fabulous music, including Margaret’s own album Steadfast, which I highly recommend.

Thanks to some other CD’s that I’ve been chasing for many years, I’ve also been able to significantly expand my collection of John Warner covers (another severely under-appreciated Australian songwriter).

I have made a recording of Lassie Wi’ the Yellow Coatie, which Dermott Ryder tantalisingly mentions as a regular part of Colin’s repertoire in his homage article to Colin’s work in 2012. The CD of Colin at the Elizabeth, from a collection of recordings made by Peter Wheeler (but never published), has a very poor recording of Colin doing this song. With this song, I’ve only got a few re-recordings to do before the tribute album is finished.

I made some minor tweaks to the painting for the album cover and will get started on the final layout.

It is bittersweet to reach the end of this project, which has been a rich emotional journey. My hope is that one year soon, the National Folk Festival will host a concert of Colin’s songs, performed by those who knew him and those who have been inspired by his music.

I was fortunately enough to time my trip to Sydney with the annual gathering for early morning Qi Gong exercises in Hyde Park to mark the birthday of the founder of this particular style on May 13. It was a relaxing start to the day before the long drive back to Yass. I was also delighted to find the, rock history themed, Brewsters cafe in Bowral for the essential mid-drive coffee.

A Factory Lad - Project · Ballad Analysis · Blog Post · Folk Music

A Factory Lad – Part 4

April 30, 2019October 8, 2021 Daniel Kelly2 Comments

Wherever you go in society, politics are sure to come up. After spending a day listening to the Australian Folklore conference speakers at the National Library on 18 April and speaking with more people who were part of the Australian folk scene in the 60s and 70s, it seems clear that there were circles within circles, which always leaves some folks on the outside.

Whether the lines are drawn around religion, social class, morality and ethics or the ‘right’ way to play the Mudgee Waltz (very enjoyable talk by Dave de Hugard), all communities seem to find ways to divide themselves.

I continue to hear from many new people with re-collections of Colin and some have been kind enough to put their memories in an email or share them over the phone.

I spent a few days listening to four of the songs Colin did on the Mike Eves collection. I decided not to attempt Colin’s version of the Sheffield Grinder because his tempo and guitar skills are beyond me. I hope it gets published soon, as it demonstrates the range of Colin’s talent. This isn’t the ‘music hall’ version of the song, but instead this version from 1847. Here is a 1975 Scottish folk rock group called Finn Mac Cuill doing the song, but to a different melody.

The four songs that I recorded, after listening to Colin’s versions in the car for a week, are nicely mirrored in the songs that he wrote, Sither and Pit Boy. Two of the songs are about weaving, and two about mining. I suspect that Colin would have heard these songs while growing up in Yorkshire.

In each case, Colin sings these songs in a unique way; not like Ewan MacColl, who was recording them in the 1950s, but with a visceral artistry. Colin was able to embody the emotion of the song, rather than just repeat words to a melody.

I have not been able to find anyone else performing these songs quite the way Colin did. I have included detail about each of the songs in the video description.

Four Pence a Day – is a song about young children working in the lead mines of Teesdale prior to 1842.

The Blantyre Explosion – is about an 1877 mining disaster at High Blantyre in Scotland

Poverty Knock – describes that plight of, mostly, women weavers in the 1860s in Yorkshire

Four Loom Weaver – is a re-working of a much earlier ballad (1805) applied to the Cotton Famine in Lancashire in 1861.

Each of these songs are performed in a different style by Colin, but each in a way that would make a room fall silent.

Colin’s connection to working people’s songs was not an affectation, his most well-known song, Factory Lad, was most likely autobiographical. The B-250 tractor was being manufactured in Bradford, Yorkshire when Colin was there. One of the people who knew Colin describes his intense response to seeing one of these tractors on a farm in Australia, saying “this is what we were making”. Here is a site with some history of the International Harvester tractor factory in Bradford, Yorkshire where Colin most likely worked before coming to Australia in 1965.

I only have a few more songs to re-record, and will then be ready to publish my album.

A Factory Lad – Part 5

A Factory Lad - Project · Blog Post · Folk Music

A Factory Lad – Part 3

April 17, 2019October 8, 2021 Daniel Kelly1 Comment

I spent today at the National Library of Australia hoping to hear some of the recordings of Colin made in the 1970s. I found one recording from the Port Jackson Folk festival in 1970 and two recordings in the Mike Eves collection.

From this Mudcat post it appears that Mike passed away in the US in 2009, but his family must have handed his recordings over to the National Library. Sad to say that from several internet posts it looks like Mike got mixed up with Scientology in the US.

The 90 minute long recording of the Song Workshop at Port Jackson festival in 1970 included more blues and experimental psychedelic-rock style music than I was expecting, mixed in with some beautiful Irish tunes and folk ballads. Most valuable to me was listening to Colin speak between performers.

Colin spoke knowledgeably about the global folk music scene and offered his frustration at musical ‘gate-keeping’ in the community; traditionalists that look down on the ‘new’ music and extreme modernists who reject the old.

About 60 minutes into the workshop there is a beautiful Gaelic ballad sung by someone whose name I couldn’t make out in the recording.

It took a few hours to get the other two recordings, one of Colin in the studio and another set of Colin singing unaccompanied, both recorded by Mike Eves. I ended up spending close to 6 hours at the Library as when the copy of one of the CD’s arrived it had failed to burn. The library staff were very helpful and re-burnt the CD.

The studio recording is probably as close as Colin came to making an LP. It features an autoharp and a significant amount of rubbery double-bass and improvised flute (a la Jethro Tull). The session is dated 1973-1974, so would have been a few years after Colin’s work with Extradition and Tully on Sea of Joy. To my ear, it sounded like an attempt to break through into the progressive/psychedelic/acid rock that was emerging in Australia. There was not much in the way of folk influence, except for a rambling 7 minute version of Scarborough Fair. Maybe it would have done well at the time, but to my ear the style did not play to Colin’s strengths. The recording reminded me of Phil Och’s, Pleasures of the Harbor, in it’s attempt to change focus in order to capture the mainstream market.

The second Mike Eves recording was a goldmine for me. This recording had Colin singing all of the songs mentioned at the end of my previous post. The recording quality is quite good and will provide a reference to, hopefully, do a reasonable recording in the same style.

I have almost finished the album cover (just need to make him look less like Lionel Richie), and set the painting process to my best attempt at a Blues version of the Ryebuck Shearer. Thanks to Hrothgar on Mudcat who mentioned that Colin had done a blues version on this thread.

Searches online have failed to turn up evidence of Colin playing at other locations around Australia, though several people have confirmed he was in Perth at some point.

For the next few weeks I’ll be busy preparing for a performance at Duke’s Place in Sydney on May 10, and letting Colin’s treatment of the remaining 6 songs marinate before trying to record them.

Many thanks to the several folks who have contributed stories and suggestions on this Mudcat thread and others who have contacted me directly.

A Factory Lad – Part 4

A Factory Lad - Project · Blog Post · Folk Music

A Factory Lad – Part 2

April 8, 2019October 8, 2021 Daniel Kelly4 Comments

According to the National Archives search of ship arrivals, Colin arrived in Australia on 22 May 1965, listing his occupation as ‘fitter’ and that he intended to settle in NSW.

Tracking Colin’s time in Australia will be quite a challenge as he does not appear to have left any published journals or letters. This notice in the Sydney Tribune on 14 Feb 1968 places Colin at the Port Phillip Festival, which from the account sounds like a fantastic event.

Colin appears again in Morton Bay in April 1969, when the National Folk Festival was held there. Colin is listed as specialising in North Country ballads. The article appears in the Sydney Tribune on 26 March 1969.

This article in the Tharunka on 22 April 1969 has Colin performing with Colin Campbell in an anti-conscription concert on 13 May. Conscription for the Vietnam War had started in Australia in 1964.

Colin was part of the first Monaro Folk Festival in Canberra over the June Queen’s birthday long weekend in 1970. This article was published in the Canberra Times on 6 June 1970. Colin was back in Canberra for a concert on 5 December 1970, published here. A separate article about the same event claims that Colin has a repertoire of 3,000 to 4,000 songs and mentions his collaboration with the Australian Progressive band Tully and also the psych-rock Australian attempt at Fairport Convention Extradition.

Comparing Colin’s own style to that of Extradition on the album Hush, I don’t get the feeling that Colin had much influence on the album.

Again in Canberra in March 1971, Colin was on the program for the Aquarius festival of the arts at the Australian National University, article from the Canberra Times on the same day. Colin gave a workshop on contemporary folk music.

On 24 April 1971 Colin was part of the Monaro Folk Music Society concert at the Methodist Centre in Forrest. The article indicates the Colin was on the program with Warren Fahey (of the Australian Folklore Unit). Colin appears a few times alongside Bernard Bolan.

Unfortunately a number of recordings of Colin are not available online from the National Library (I’m waiting on access to listen to them in person). This recording from some date in the 1960s (must have been after 1965 when Colin arrived in Australia) provides the setlist:

Blantyre explosion
Four pence a day
Poverty poverty knock
Davie louston (sealing)
Sheffield grinder
Four loom weaver
The pit lad
Sither

Here is a map of the locations I know of, and a link to the detail in Google Maps. I will update the information as more comes to light.

Since the last posting, I have recorded the first track for the album here and also started work on the album cover painting.

A Factory Lad – Part 3

A Factory Lad - Project · Blog Post · Folk Music · My Own Music

A Factory Lad – Part 1

April 6, 2019October 8, 2021 Daniel KellyLeave a comment

I first heard Margaret and Bob Fagan sing Factory Lad at the National Folk Festival in 2008. The song was part of the feature album for the festival, showcasing NSW folk talents. No doubt they mentioned Colin Dryden as the author, and I assumed he was a bearded gentleman in his late sixties with volumes of songs to his name.

I was struck by the beautiful melody and also by the poignancy of the lyrics. I’ve never worked in a factory, but can relate to the drudgery and depression that can come with repetitive, unrewarding work which can exist in the office building just as it does on the factory floor. Of course, at the desk and conference room table the work is without most of the debilitating long-term physical effects of strenuous labour.

I learned the song and began including it in my performances at various folk events.

It wasn’t until Colin’s niece commented on my YouTube upload of the song and pointed me to her 2013 Tumblr post about Colin that I was prompted to dig a little deeper.

Thanks to Naomi’s post, I was able to listen to the recordings of Colin that Warren Fahey had put together on his site here. And also a number of Colin’s songs that Naomi had gathered from various recordings.

After making some rough recordings of my own in this playlist, I realised that there are no downloadable albums of Colin’s work, other than the many hundreds of (sometimes unattributed) covers of Factory Lad (sometimes as Turning Steel). Broom Bezzums being one example here.

<rant on> It really annoys me the way record companies pay no attention to the original writers of songs when they re-publish albums on streaming media like YouTube, Spotify, iTunes. Even if the covering band did the right thing in the liner-notes of their album, this detail is un-ceremoniously stripped from any Internet publication. </rant off>

Colin’s Pit Boy and Sither are just as brilliantly written songs as Factory Lad and deserve a wider audience. I think these three songs, as discussed here by Dermott Ryder, represented the pinnacle of new folk ballads written in Australia in the 1970s.

I will go into the detail of Colin’s life in a future post, but he was only in Australia for twenty one years from 1965 and passed away at 43 soon after returning to England (Yorkshire) in 1986.

I plan to use this blog series to catalogue my research into the music and life of Colin Dryden and document the process of putting together an album of the songs and tunes that he wrote and sung.

Happy for anyone who would like to contribute an anecdote, or a favourite song to contact me here or on my Facebook page.

A Factory Lad – Part 2

Blog Post · Folk Music · My Own Music

The Economics of the Independent Singer-Songwriter

February 10, 2019 Daniel Kelly2 Comments

Last month I took my second album, ‘Wolf at the Door’, down from digital distribution. I published the album in February 2017, and to keep the album published on all the distribution services (Google, iTunes, Amazon, Spotify, etc.) has cost me a total of US$70 (around AUS$100).

I published through Reverbnation, and over the next few months will take down my other albums as the annual renewal ($50) comes due. It just isn’t worth the cost.

My total revenue from Wolf at the Door was $9, which was mostly from a single iTunes purchase. Of interest, 203 Spotify streams earned $0.28, Google and iTunes paid similarly minuscule amounts.

It will be more viable to only publish albums on my Reverbnation site, which doesn’t attract an annual fee (just a 17% cut of each sale). I had looked at cdbaby, which charges around $50-$70 per album, but then takes a 10% cut of your revenue forever.

Last year was the first time I made an effort to publicise an album. Zombie Sheep of the Murrumbidgee (still up on stream services until June). I did several radio appearances, on local radio in our small town, and also in the bigger city an hour’s drive away. I performed at several local events for free prior to the launch and then organised a ticketed album launch concert.

I also ran a crowd-funding campaign to try and get the album professionally produced, but the campaign never came close to the $1000 goal (thanks to those who did bring it up to $200).

The Zombie Sheep album opened up some fantastic opportunities for me, playing for the Irish Ambassador in Canberra, being part of the ceremony in Sydney commemorating the Irish Famine Memorial and also participating in the Bush Traditions Gathering.

As a folk singer/songwriter, I feel that this album was definitely a pinnacle in terms of my writing, performing and the relatability of the content. My three previous albums were mostly obscure, self-indulgent, and unlikely to attract broader interest.

Over the past 8 months I would have sold close to 25 physical copies of Zombie Sheep, totalling around $200. I usually sell them for $20, but sold about 10 during the launch concert for $15.

So why have this rant? I need to replace a piece of recording equipment, which is going to cost around $200. As an independent musician, the economics of what we do matters. All of the income from album sales and paid gigs over the past five years probably comes close to half of the cost of equipment (instruments, recording and live sound gear) I have purchased. This got me thinking about whether what I do is a costly and wasteful hobby, or is it creating art that is of value to humanity now and in the future?

David Rovics wrote this great piece on the economic viability of touring as a full time musician. Here is another article written in response to a comment made by fantastic Scottish folk musicians Karine Polwart. The underlying theme, is that you most likely won’t make a good living as a musician with ethics and integrity. If you want to write what you want, and play for an audience that appreciates your work, and maybe even say things that some in power don’t want to hear, then it is going to be a struggle.

The economics aren’t so complicated for me. I’m not trying to feed a family with my musical profession, my main goal is just to break even and get my message out to a few people.

Through a random reddit scroll this weekend I watched this video of a song that Trevor Lucier wrote for his girlfriend. I was struck by the upbeat enthusiasm Trevor had during his intro, something an introvert like me would never try to pull off on-camera. Going through Trevor’s videos, I found this one from just a few months earlier. It is tough to watch, but I suggest that it is worthwhile. It speaks to the economics of America, and many western countries. How we are crushing the spirits of young people through unaffordable housing, unaffordable rent, ridiculous cost of living and unwillingness to pay our artists for the value they give society. Trevor is a talented guy, an accomplished guitar player, a good writer and singer and seems like someone worth having a chat with over a coffee. Maybe instead of having one Ed Sheeran earning a $110 million a year, we could have an Ed Sheeran on every street corner earning $80k a year?

Bringing this closer to home, the local farmers market has been paying musicians $100 to play for around 1.5-2 hours for the last 3-4 years. The spot is circulated between beginner and more professional performers and was a great way to support both the musicians and the atmosphere of the market. This year, under new management, the demand has been that musicians play 3 hours for $50. Writing and performing with an instrument is not flipping burgers. Needless to say, I won’t be playing the market any more.

Last week I had a brief brush with fame when I wrote this song about an issue with the quality of our local water. The song jumped to 4k views on YouTube within a few days and was even played on the local news in Canberra. ABC played the song on the radio and mentioned it several times in their articles. The only cent of revenue I saw was from a local shop owner who wanted to play it in their store and bought the song for $0.99 (I told her to show APRA my text message consenting to play it in public if they come around hassling her).

For any aspiring musicians reading this, my advice, for what it’s worth, is that you have to make each and every sale in person. Your music needs to connect with the person in your audience every time you perform. Not everyone is going to be Mike Rosenberg or Taylor Swift, but just inspiring one person, or touching the heart of one person, makes being a musicians worthwhile. It won’t pay, so get a day job, but don’t stop creating.

Blog Post · Folk Music

A Case of Your Rubbish

December 30, 2018December 30, 2018 Daniel KellyLeave a comment

This holidays I’ve been reading a few books. I finished the 1971 biography of Bob Dylan by Anthony Scaduto. This was a follow-on to my reading of Joan Baez’ autobiography, And A
Voice to Sing With: A Memoir, last year and The Mayor of MacDougal Street a few years before. I know I have quite a few more Greenwich Village biographies to read to fill out the picture of New York folk in the 60s, including Phil Ochs, Judy Collins, Pete Seeger, Joni Mitchell and others.

At the same time I have been reading Leonard Cohen’s posthumous collection of poems and lyrics, The Flame. So when someone on the Joni Mitchell Facebook group posted A Case of You and mentioned that it was their favourite love song, it got me thinking.

The other book I’m reading is Boys Will be Boys, by Clementine Ford. I haven’t finished the book but it is a sequel to Fight Like a Girl and tackles many of the same issues. While confronting, I highly recommend reading both of these books.

How does this all fit together? Well I read that A Case of You was about Leonard in this
cohencentric post detailing the relationship between Joni and Leonard in 1967-1968 and since. Of course there are other claims that the song might be about Graham Nash or possibly James Taylor. Unfortunately the weight that can be placed on ‘she told me in confidence’ is fairly negligible. In reality, for the subject of this post it doesn’t matter which male rising-star of the New York 60s art scene it was.

Now to the song. I first heard this song sung by Tori Amos, and more recently a cover by one of my favourite contemporary artists, Mike Rosenberg (Passenger). The lines that strengthen the case for a Cohen subject are the drawing of a map of Canada with portraits of the subject (The Flame is absolutely full of self portraits of Leonard). The use of holy wine in the blood, love as ‘touching souls’ and fear of the devil are very similar to the imagery common to Cohen’s work.

Just like Clementine Ford, I am about to step on a great many toes and probably upset a few idealists. Unlike the ‘love song’ interpretation that prompted this article, I think A Case of You is a song throwing some serious shade. Shade written in the subtle and beautiful way that was/is
expected of a female artist (until the arrival of our gracious queen Taylor Swift of course).

I think some people interpret it as a ‘love song’ because they see it as someone mourning a relationship that didn’t work out because it was too intense, or the other party had problems.
Looking closely, I don’t see it this way. I see it as the 1960s equivalent of #metoo. If a woman
thought that a relatively famous man was a narcissistic, shallow rake then it could be very detrimental to her career to say so publicly. We cannot imagine that the 1960s music business was a nicer place than the 2017 Harvey Weinstein world of film.

At the time of their relationship, Leonard was a 33yr old accomplished poet and Joni was just 24 and at the very beginning of her music career. A detailed read of the Cohencentric article cited above paints a clear picture of the relationship and the ongoing fallout. Just to be clear, I am not insinuating that any non-consensual activity took place.

I am a big fan of Leonard Cohen as the many covers I have done of his songs attest. However, reading The Flame, I get the impression of a man who is deeply confused regarding his relationships with women. The classic (and toxic) religious iconography of the whore
or virgin dichotomy runs strongly through his words. This didn’t anger me reading the book, it made me sad. The desire to love, but the incapacity to form healthy, mutually respectful and honest relationships is tragic.

I can hear Clementine say “boo hoo for him”, and indeed, the trail of shamed, hurt and discarded women that suffer at the hands of men who have been raised dysfunctional is a worthier
problem than one lonely heart.

In this particular case, a careful reading of the lyrics reveals that Joni got her own back in a song that has been covered over 300 times, long before Taylor was lambasting (yes I had to look it up) her ex-lovers in song.

The song starts with the lover claiming to be “constant as a northern star”, a reference to Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Interestingly, the reference is from the point in the play just prior to Caesar’s demise. Joni goes on to point out that a star is constantly in the darkness.

My favourite part of the song, and the one which I think has most listeners confused is the statement in the chorus that “I could drink a case of you and still be on my feet”. In Australia
the purpose of alcohol is usually to get one drunk, preferably too drunk to stand. It might be that Joni sings this so beautifully that we assume she is paying a compliment.

Any Australian who had consumed a case of wine and was still standing, would immediately be asking for their money back. The line implies that whatever you drank was weak, ineffective and
‘low strength’. Not very complementary.

The final verse speaks of a universal sisterhood of past-boyfriend gossip. The line “go with him, stay with him but be prepared to bleed” doesn’t sound like good advice. In some ways it
echoes the terrible advice that some women who have been physically abused by their partners get from family and friends. If you can, get out of there, it’s broken.

At the core of the two books by Clementine Ford is the pervasive, structured, power imbalance in society between men and women. The books go into detail on how these imbalances have
been built, how they are maintained and the consequences for both men and women.

For Joni to come out publicly and shine a light on a famous male Canadian poet’s inadequacy when it comes to healthy relationships would likely have spelled the end of her career. My main
takeaway from the Bob Dylan biography was the narrow and treacherous path that he took to success musically and financially, it wasn’t a given that talent brought you money or fame, even for a white male. Phil Ochs was a key example of how it went wrong if you didn’t shake the right hands and keep the right friends. A Case of You, seems to be Joni having her say in a public way, but subtly enough that the less perceptive would misinterpret it, even propagate it.

I’m not wanting to paint heroes and villains here. Everyone has their problems, and life, let-alone romantic relationships is/are hard. But I think we can all benefit from taking out our
pre-programing every now and again and checking it for validity.