More crime songs
I've heard two folk songs recently that share something of the darker, Thompson/Goodis/Woolrich strain of noir and hard-boiled, yet remain two of the happiest, toe-tappingest, jolliest ballads you'd ever want to hear. This seeming contradiction captures the appeal of a certain school of crime story, and I invite your thoughts on the matter when you're done with this post.
The narrator of "Nancy Whisky" (known in some versions as "The Carlton Weaver") celebrates his "seven long years" in the thrall of the bottle, personified as a woman with "a playful twinkle in her eye." In some versions, such as this one by Shane MacGowan and the Popes, the singer "ran out of money, so I did steal."
In that way that folk songs and stories have, the song exists in multiple versions. In some, the narrator repents of his errant ways. In others, he pines away for his lost "Nancy Whisky." In still others, such as the version by Philadelphia's own Patrick's Head, the ending is more ambiguous: "As I awoke to strike my first (Or "slake my thirst"?) / As I went crawling from my bed / I fell down flat and could not stagger / Nancy had me by the legs," trailing off into the repeated, celebratory chorus: "Whisky, whisky, Nancy Whisky / Whisky, whisky, Nancy-o."
And how about this verse?:
"I bought her, I drank her, I had another
Ran out of money so I did steal
She ran me ragged, lovely Nancy
Seven years, a rolling wheel"
If that's not a Bonnie and Clyde or The Big O or a Barry Gifford story waiting to happen, I don't know what is. Of course, since "Nancy Whisky," though Scottish, is beloved of Irish bands, perhaps Big O author Declan Burke liked the song in his youth. Comment from said Mr. Burke is welcome.
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The narrator of "Nancy Whisky" (known in some versions as "The Carlton Weaver") celebrates his "seven long years" in the thrall of the bottle, personified as a woman with "a playful twinkle in her eye." In some versions, such as this one by Shane MacGowan and the Popes, the singer "ran out of money, so I did steal."
In that way that folk songs and stories have, the song exists in multiple versions. In some, the narrator repents of his errant ways. In others, he pines away for his lost "Nancy Whisky." In still others, such as the version by Philadelphia's own Patrick's Head, the ending is more ambiguous: "As I awoke to strike my first (Or "slake my thirst"?) / As I went crawling from my bed / I fell down flat and could not stagger / Nancy had me by the legs," trailing off into the repeated, celebratory chorus: "Whisky, whisky, Nancy Whisky / Whisky, whisky, Nancy-o."
And how about this verse?:
"I bought her, I drank her, I had another
Ran out of money so I did steal
She ran me ragged, lovely Nancy
Seven years, a rolling wheel"
If that's not a Bonnie and Clyde or The Big O or a Barry Gifford story waiting to happen, I don't know what is. Of course, since "Nancy Whisky," though Scottish, is beloved of Irish bands, perhaps Big O author Declan Burke liked the song in his youth. Comment from said Mr. Burke is welcome.
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The amazing "Weila, Weila, Waila," with its sing-song chorus and horrific subject matter, invites comparison with a form of literature darker and more violent than crime fiction: nursery rhymes. Have a listen here.
"And there was an old woman and she lived in the woods
A weila weila waila
There was an old woman and she lived in the woods
Down by the River Saile
"She had a baby three months old
A weila weila waila
She had a baby three months old
Down by the River Saile ... "
© Peter Rozovsky 2008
Labels: crime songs, Declan Burke, music, noir, nursery rhymes, Patrick's Head, Shane MacGowan
posted by Peter Rozovsky at 2:55 AM
49 Comments:
No Lagavulin ? (Wonderful SM, like Laphraig from Islay. Peaty and matured in old Sherry casks).
Haven't come across 'Nancy Whiskey', Peter ... sorry. 'Weila-weila-walila', on the other hand, is a cracker ... Nick Cave picked up on this kind of thing in his album 'Murder Ballads'.
What about a novel based on Whiskey in the Jar? I'm thinking of calling it 'Wack For The Daddy-O'.
Cheers, Dec
As Declan says, Nick Cave did a great job of this on 'Murder Ballads'...but I think traditional folk songs are full of noir moments. Sticking with the Irish for a second, there's 'The Well Below the Valley', as recorded by Christy Moore/Planxty from the singing of one John Reilly, another combination of weird, dark lyrics and upbeat melody. Less cheerfully, there's 'I am stretched on your grave' - a whole Hitchcock movie in a song.
And many of the Child Ballads are pure noir transposed to another time and place - 'Little Musgrave', 'Clark Saunders', 'Bonnie Banks of Fordie'...any one of them could be translated to, say, 1940s LA without too much difficulty. And they're terrific pieces of story-telling, too - have a listen to Christy Moore's or Nic Jones's version of 'Little Musgrave' or Nic Jones's version of 'Clyde Water'.
Johnny Cash covered the old ballad "Sam Hall":
I killed a man, they said; so they said.
I killed a man, they said; so they said.
I killed a man, they said an' I smashed in his head.
An' I left him layin' dead,
Damn his eyes!
It is also remarkably perky, given its subject matter.
Bernd, you appear to have known Nancy Whisky intimately. I've not had that pleasure. I did have a fling with Sally Cider in Ireland, though.
Declan, I remember your "Wack for the Daddy-O" idea. I probably would love the title even if I'd never heard the song. It suggests rich possibilities. I see a hit man grown doubtful about an assignment ... a powerful, shady figure (the Daddy-O, of course) ... Nancy Whiskey might make a good title, too.
Murder Ballads came up in an earlier discussion about crime songs. I am more tempted than ever to look for it now.
"Weila, Weila, Waila" -- I'm sure volumes have been written about the psychological impulses behind making horrible crimes into folks, the more horrible the crime, the jauntier the song. Fascinating stuff and yes, a hell of a song, especially at a fast, lively tempo.
Michael, it appears that some of the ballads would make good horror tales as well.
Another fascinating subject is variant versions, little alterations that change a song from horrifying to moralizing, for example. What impulse lies behind such changes? That one original can serve as a platform for any number of different sorts of tales is interesting, I think.
I'm no psychologist or folklorist, but it's easy to imagine that such a song as "Weila, Weila, Waila" is a way for poeple to deal with that which would otherwise be inexpressable, as if telling of the horror somehow signifies a kind of control of it, or at least an uneasy coexistence with it. I wonder if readers are attracted to crime stories, particularly darker ones, for similar reasons.
My name it is Sam Hall an' I hate you, one and all.
An' I hate you, one and all:
Damn your eyes.
Wow, that's great stuff. Thanks, Loren.
The subject of folk song variants is fascinating. I'm no folklorist, either - I just like the music - but I'm intrigued by the way that songs transform as they move through time or across geography. I suppose I can understand why they might be bowdlerised from horrifying to moralising, but it's more surprising when it happens the other way round - 'The well below the valley' supposedly has its origins in a song about Christ and Mary Magdalene... Speaking of variants, Richard Thompson also does a version of 'Sam Hall' in his '1000 Years of Popular Music' show. In Thompson's hands, it becomes a piece of hammed-up Victorian music hall melodrama, quite different in tone from Johnny Cash's version.
Do you want a noir ballad?
10,000 maniacs
I'm not the man
It crawls on his back, won't ever let him be. Stares at the walls until the cinder blocks can breathe. His eyes have gone away, escaping over time. He rules a crowded nation inside his mind.
He knows that night like his hand. He knows every move he made. Late shift, the bell that rang, a time card won't fade. 10:05 his truck pulled home. 10:05 he climbed his stair, about the time he was accused of being there.
But I'm not the man. He goes free as I wait on the row for the man to test the rope he'll slip around my throat... and silence me.
On the day he was tried no witness testified. Nothing but evidence, not hard to falsify. His own confession was a prosecutor's prize, made up of fear, of rage and of outright lies.
But I'm not the man. He goes free as the candle vigil glows, as they burn my clothes. As the crowd cries, "Hang him slow!" and I feel my blood go cold, he goes free.
Call out the KKK, they're wild after me. And with that frenzied look of half-demented zeal, they'd love to serve me up my final meal.
Who'll read my final rite and hear my last appeal? Who struck this devil's deal?
Marco, Natalie Merchant of 10,000 Maniacs always took herself too seriously, I think. If the subject is songs narrated by a man accused of murder, I'll take "Long Black Veil" any time.
Michael, I'll have to figure out the best way to study this issue -- not an easy thing to do in America, where folk music has either died or gne udnerground. Call me a naive and sentimental tourist, but I think Ireland's tradition of pub singing does much to keep a folk tradition alive there, even in this age of recorded music.
So instead of buying some fat collection of folk songs, I'll have to look for what has been written about some of my favorite ballads.
I thought of "Tom Dooley," but that hardly qualifies as upbeat.
It's upbeat in, er, its beat, at least in the popular version by the Kingsmen or the Kingston Trio or whatever group popularized it.
All I remember is the chorus, which would put the song in the moralizing camp. I don't know the rest of the words.
Steely Dan wrote and performed a good numer of crime songs, from "Don't Take Me Alive" (www.lyricsdepot.com/steely-dan/dont-take-me-alive.htm), to "Kid Charlemagne" (www.lyricsdepot.com/kid-charlemagne.html).
One of my favorites, "Deacon Blues," is atmospheric and very noir (www.lyricsdepot.com/steely-dan/deacon-blues.html).
Paul Davis
daviswrite@aol.com
For some reason, those links aren't working. When I get them straightened out, I'll be interested especially to see the lyrics of the latter two songs, which I've known for years without ever thinking much about the words. I guess the music was the main thing with Steely Dan, at least for casual listeners like me.
you realise you're a Glenlivet and an Islay short of a Robert Louis Stevenson poem?
And me having just bought "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" (and "Journey to the Center of the Earth") this weekend. I'm having a second childhood.
Islay, Talisker and Glenlivet are RLS's trifecta. The latter two are from Skye and the mainland, though technically with the new bridge and all Skye really is the mainland now. And I hate to disagre with RLS, but I think Bernd's on the right track. The real stuff comes from Islay: Bowmore, Laphroaig, Lagavulin, Islay etc.
I ought to give this whiskey stuff a try. It obviously does the mind no harm.
Peter
I think you know I'm not a pedant. And clearly I'm not even able to spell "disagree" above first thing in the morning, but in general one does not spell Scotch whiskey with the "e".
A nice bottle of Bowmore will do you no harm at all.
I could not remember whether it was Ireland or Scotland that spelled it without the e. The issue was further confused because, though I believe "Nancy Whisk(e)y" is a Scottish song, I became acquainted with it through versions by Irish bands, whose liner notes and YouTube clips spell the word either way.
Luke Kelly sings it after the Scottish manner (Siller for silver, meer for more, looed for loved and the like). So I just decided, the hell with it. I'll spell it with the e. But I'll mind my orthography if I'm in the company of any Scotsmen. Aye, I will.
But note the way I spelled it in the body of the post.
The copyeditor for my books at Scribner was a Glaswegian, but the proof reader was a Chinese American, so by the time I got the Mss. there'd often been an edit war over the spelling of the word whisky all the way through, blue pencil attacking red pencil in a bloody confrontation.
Did you finish Watchmen by the way?
I happen to know a copy editor with two decades of newspaper experience, a few novel-editing jobs under his belt, and a broad enough perspective to consult with the author over questions of whisky vs. whiskey.
I shall finish Watchmen shortly. I took a break to read The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen because I had just seen the movie.
Definitely don't follow this link,then.Watchmen:The Condensed Version .Huuge spoilers.
In that case, Marco, I shall rush through the rest of the book so I can watch the clip. A condensed version of my take on Watchmen so far is that I like the satire and the characterization better than I like the philosophizing.
'In Germany before The War' by Randy Newman.
That might fit nicely with my recent reading of John Lawton's "Second Violin," set in England and Austria before the war.
How about that old standby "Mack the Knife" as the ultimate catchy crime tune? Here's a link to the long and convoluted history of this snazzy character, dating way back to the 1600s.
There are also several versions of "Tequila Sheila".
One more: "L.A. County" by Lyle Lovett, a very jaunty tune about a jilted lover killing his ex and her groom at the alter on their wedding day.
She left Dallas for California
With an old friend at her side
Well he did not say much
But one year later
He'd ask her to be his wife
(Chorus) And the lights of L.A. County
They look like diamonds in the sky
When you're driving through the hours
With an old friend at your side
One year later I left Houston
With an old friend AT my side
Well it did not say much
But it was a beauty
Of a coal black .45
(Chorus)
So I drove on all the day long
And I drove on through the night
And I thought of her a'waiting
For to be his blushing bride
(Chorus)
And as she stood there at the altar
All dressed in her gown of white
Lord her face was bright as The stars a'shining
Like I'd dreamed of all my life
And they kissed each other
And they turned around
And they saw me standing in the aisle
Well I did not say much
I just stood there watching
As that .45 told them goodbye
(Chorus)
And the lights of L.A. County
Are a mighty pretty sight
When you're kneeling at the altar
With an old friend at your side
"Mack the Knife" has come up in my discussions of crime songs. I know that "The Threepenny Opera" has its roots in the old "Beggars' Opera," but I don't know the roots of Mack the Knife/Moritat. I shall investigate. Thanks.
Thanks for the Lyle Lovett lyrics, too. That's a nice last verse.
I had previously known Lyle Lovett mostly for his interesting haircut and for one of the great band names ever: Lyle Lovett's Large Band.
Re your previous comment, "Tequila Sheila" is a wonderful, friendly title. I like the song without having heard it.
I've often wondered wether Mack The Knife could take Leroy Brown. With or without the knofe....
Leroy Brown was a wuss, and so was Jim of "You Don't Mess Around With Jim," which was essentially the same song as "Leroy Brown."
Jim Croce's creation of the soft-rock tough-guy song is one of the odder footnotes to American pop music.
Verification word for this comment: winge -- not that I'm complaining.
I completely agree, Peter. Mack is way cooler than Leroy Brown, Jim or Slim.
"You Don't Mess Around With Jim" at least had a bit of a jazzy sound to it. "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" was just a weird joke.
..after my encounter with a junkyard dog, in Warsaw, a few years ago, Leroy went way up in my estimation ...
I have no doubt that junkyard dogs tend to be for ferocious than, say, your Pekingeses or miniature schnauzers, and I suppose Jim Croce deserves credit for popularizing the term. Furthermore, it may be noteworthy that both Jim and Leroy Brown got their asses kicked. Maybe that makes Jim Croce a subversive figure. He was still a wuss.
..yes, but he could put time in a bottle,which is a trick and a half, don't you think? Big Bad John,on the other hand ...
No, he couldn't even do that. He spent three minutes pissing and moaning about what he would do if he could put time in a bottle.
Of course, second conditional. If+ past simple+ would +infinative.Hypothetical means never in my book.
Well, putting time in a bottle must be pretty difficult. Poor Jim Croce was probably tired from beating up the Leroy Browns and Jims of the world.
A theory: Jim Croce made pretty wussy music, and two of his big hits end with tough guys getting beaten up. Revenge fantasies against bullies or at least schoolyard kids he was afraid of?
The thing is, I didn't realise it was the same Jim Croce that wrote those song. Thanks for the FAB FACT. 'Not a lot of people know that'. as Mr Caine would say.
Some of us remember when "Bad (uh!), Bad (yeah!) Leroy Brown" was on the radio. Such useless information our brains are cluttered with.
I'm not much of a 'folkie', but Fairport Convention's 'Matty Groves' from their 'Liege and Lief' album is a great favourite of mine,Peter, and a crime song, to boot
That old blues/rock'n'roll chestnut, 'Stager lee'/'Stack-O-Lee' ("that baad man!") must surely rank among the great crime songs, as must Jimi Hendrix 'Hey Joe'
("where you goin', with that gun in your hand"?)
I have a colleague or two named Joe, and whenever anyove calls out, "Hey, Joe!" I have to answer "Where you going with that gun in your hand?"
I wonder if Stagger Lee/Stack-O-Lee came up in any of these discussions of crime songs. Greil Marcus wrote about its earthy and ancient mystery, and so on, I think.
That 'sequitur's almost a pre-requisite whenever addressing friends or acquaintances called Joe.
I have a copy of 'Mystery Train', but I've never gotten around to reading it
(or finishing Peter Guralnick's 'Elvis' biog. for that matter)
I guess that must constitute a crime, of sorts.
The reggae song, 'Johnny Too Bad' must surely be a crime song also
(I know it was on the soundtrack of that great movie 'The Harder They Come')
I read Mystery Train, or good chunks of it, years ago.
I also remember telling someone that The Basement Tapes was so good that it almost lived up to Greil Marcus' praise.
But, hey, the man's right. No reason to believe that amid the vast sea of largely indifferent sludge that is rock it roll, some rare examples should not partake of American mystery ...
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