Welcome to The Cahokian...
A thousand years ago Cahokia — across the Mississippi from what is now St. Louis — was one of the biggest cities in the world. Now it's an empty green spot next to the highway. I'm a middle-aged gay man living in New York City, center of the world, future footnote on somebody's future map. Welcome to the new world.
Here's one of my favorite Rolling Stone covers, from the forgotten funk-soul group Maxayn, fronted by Maxayn Lewis. It's "Gimme Shelter," from 1972. The Stones original is terrific, as is the version expanded by original backup singer Merry Clayton, and the more recent Patti Smith cover.
How close is danger.
"Oh, a storm is threat'ning My very life today If I don't get some shelter Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away
War, children, it's just a shot away It's just a shot away War, children, it's just a shot away It's just a shot away
Ooh, see the fire is sweepin' Our very street today Burns like a red coal carpet Mad bull lost its way
War, children, it's just a shot away It's just a shot away War, children, it's just a shot away It's just a shot away
Rape, murder! It's just a shot away It's just a shot away
The floods is threat'ning My very life today Gimme, gimme shelter Or I'm gonna fade away
War, children, it's just a shot away It's just a shot away
I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away It's just a kiss away It's just a kiss away"
It's been a couple years, but sadly it's time to break out a new entry in the "Anti-War Anthems" feature here at The Cahokian. Today, it's a video I've seen floating around Facebook. "Has the Bombing Begun?" by David Rovics. I don't know anything about this guy, but this song captures something about this moment: the sad resignation that once again, the world has to go through this, because of the willful evil of people who once claimed better.
Okay, I'm projecting here, a little: the lyrics of this song don't actually mention war, in Vietnam or elsewhere. But the Peter Paul & Mary album this song is taken from was released the same week that two of the group's members were among those beaten and gassed by police in the suppression of anti-war protests at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. This song, a product of its era, is a spiritual affirmation profoundly and simply challenging the mindset that allows war to happen.
"Moments of the soft persuasion Chiming bells, the first occasion Tell the rest a smile awaken Till the last reminder shaken From whatever rue'd and sorrow; Now, the time is now — tomorrow.
In the instant of remaking Just the giving of the taking In the instant of the living Just the taking of the giving
Nothing more than earth and water Smiles of Spring from barren daughter Who at last in perfect motion Turning 'round embrace the ocean Gracious calf of mankind suffering; Sacrifice of old is ending.
In the instant of remaking Just the giving of the taking In the instant of the living Just the taking of the giving
Moments of the soft persuasion Chiming bells, the first occasion Tell the rest a smile awaken Till the last reminder shaken From whatever rue'd and sorrow; Now, the time is now — tomorrow." — Lyrics by Peter Yarrow
By my reading this song is a fairly profound challenge to revisit an often-ignored yet simple tenet of the Christian Bible: that the message of Jesus and his ultimate sacrifice in the New Testament is a repudiation of the religion of the Old Testament. By his self-sacrifice, Jesus says that the sacrifice and blood-letting and brutality that God seems to demand according to the Bible's early books is no longer necessary: a new age of peace and love brings mankind to a new relationship with the world and with God.
Cynics might well argue that Jesus made his call for such a religion of love in a barbaric world on the cusp of two thousand years more of barbarism and violence, and, to be honest, those cynics aren't wrong. Not being a Christian, I'm not going to undertake a defense of how the Christian church or the faith's believers reconcile what looks to me like a call for a revolution in human consciousness with what has actually been the history of that church or indeed the Christian world. It's hard to find "soft persuasion" or "the taking of the giving" in the Spanish inquisition, the Thirty Years War, the genocide against Native Americans, the Pope's failure to protect Italian Jews in the Second World War, or the hateful rantings of today's American fundamentalist Christians, to touch the tip of an iceberg. As I say I'm no Christian theologian.
But nevertheless, a little spiritual optimism goes a long way. The promise of a new age is foundational to all sorts of religious — and political — movements. The late Mary Travers opened up the liner notes to "Moments of a Soft Persuasion"'s album, Late Again, with a poem invoking the ever-ignored Cassandra: "Cassandra late,/The Prophets' meager wares/Are strewn about a weary world/A time when death requires sainthood undeserved./We are a world of mortal men/And man's great greatness is his hope."
And so this song is a softly persuasive polemic calling for, well, a soft persuasion over the clash of arms or the flash of a knife.
In continuing our series of anti-war anthems, here's a wonderful arrangement of a good old-fashioned hymn by alterna-folk group Ollabelle. This is a live performance new to me, but it's pretty close in spirit to the version off their wonderful 2006 album "Riverside Battle Songs," which I heartily recommend. That's got another rearranged old Gospel hymn with their unique sound, "Trouble of the World." (I commented on the classic Mahalia Jackson version of that hymn almost exactly a year ago here).
But this one is, of course, "Down by the Riverside," sometimes known as "Study War No More." That's an electronic keyboard masquerading as a harmonium, but the vocal harmonies are flawless.
"Gonna lay down my burden, Down by the riverside, Down by the riverside, Down by the riverside. Gonna lay down my burden, Down by the riverside, Down by the riverside.
I ain't go study war no more, study war no more, ain't go study war no more. I ain't go study war no more, study war no more, ain't go study oh war no more.
Gonna lay down my sword and shield Down by the riverside..."
Sometimes those old songs get it just right. There's a slightly different performance of the song also on Youtube here.
The version of this song I'm familiar with is from Joan Baez's 1967 album "Joan" and bears a beautiful, mournful string arrangement by Peter Schickele ("PDQ Bach," who arranged many of her early works). The version above was recorded live in concert in Italy is spare and acoustic.
She says something in her introduction above that really resonates with me, "I'd like to start by making one thing clear. I feel that I carry the guilt of the United States aggression in Vietnam, and I'm fighting against this and any other violence." I was watching one of those Iraq-war movies over the weekend that didn't make much of a commercial impact and I realized the terrible guilt that all of us in this country bear for the tragedies in the Middle East. Even those of us who protested against these wars — back in Vietnam in the 1960s or Iraq in the 2000s — failed to prevent the carnage of these wars, and every moment we pretend that we don't know about the ongoing horror our government bears responsibility for, creases our good conscience. We should be shouting about these things all the time.
This song is dated in some ways with its specific references to "red and yellow," but it communicates the cynicism of those who backed the war and created lies of rationalization. I remember the cultural wars over heroes like Joan Baez and Jane Fonda who did the right thing against so much pressure at the time. They were very brave.
Farewell my wistful Saigon bride I'm going out to stem the tide A tide that never saw the seas It flows through jungles, round the trees Some say it's yellow, some say red It will not matter when we're dead
How many dead men will it take To build a dike that will not break? How many children must we kill Before we make the waves stand still?
Though miracles come high today We have the wherewithal to pay It takes them off the streets you know To places they would never go alone It gives them useful trades The lucky boys are even paid
Men die to build their Pharoah's tombs And still and still the teeming wombs How many men to conquer Mars How many dead to reach the stars?
Farewell my wistful Saigon bride I'm going out to stem the tide A tide that never saw the seas It flows through jungles, round the trees Some say it's yellow, some say red It will not matter when we're dead
I first heard Stereolab's album "Mars Audiac Quintet" back in the mid 1990s when it came out. I was hooked on the poppy, quirky, synthy sound, but it took me a long time to zoom in on the lyrics delivered in a heavily accented and strangely deadpan voice. They're sung, like many Stereolab songs, almost as though you're not meant to understand them. But when I finally deciphered what Laetitia Sadier was singing about I was blown away. And now almost twenty years later, the lyrics of this song, "Ping Pong," continue to be remarkably apropos. I rediscovered their albums recently looking for some stuff to add to my iTunes, and was reminded how much I love their groove.
"it's alright 'cos the historical pattern has shown how the economical cycle tends to revolve in a round of decades three stages stand out in a loop a slump and war then peel back to square one and back for more
bigger slump and bigger wars and a smaller recovery huger slump and greater wars and a shallower recovery
you see the recovery always comes 'round again there's nothing to worry for things will look after themselves it's alright recovery always comes 'round again there's nothing to worry if things can only get better
there's only millions that lose their jobs and homes and sometimes accents there's only millions that die in their bloody wars, it's alright
it's only their lives and the lives of their next of kin that they are losing it's only their lives and the lives of their next of kin that they are losing
it's alright 'cos the historical pattern has shown how the economical cycle tends to revolve in a round of decades three stages stand out in a loop a slump and war then peel back to square one and back for more
bigger slump and bigger wars and a smaller recovery huger slump and greater wars and a shallower recovery
don't worry be happy things will get better naturally don't worry shut up sit down go with it and be happy"
Yes, that seems to be a vaguely Marxist analysis and critique of the cynicism behind the capitalist economic cycle of crisis, war, and dehumanization of the individual. C'mon people, even hipsters can see it.
On Memorial Day Americans honor the memory of generations of soldiers who gave their lives in past wars. While every family is right to recognize the humanity of those sacrificed in this country's violent history, I've never understood why Americans allow the politicians to stand there saying "Support Our Troops" when the best way to do so would be to bring the troops home from futile and unnecessary wars waged for dubious foreign policy goals or for the profit of corporations.
"Support the Troops" is often, in fact, used to shout down opposition to this country's wars. Here's the ugly truth: those who claim to support the troops while opposing efforts to bring American soldiers home sooner rather than later are offering the same kind of support to those troops that a noose offers a hanging man. They are responsible for prolonging the tragic waste of war. The blood of America's children serving in these wars as well as the blood of innocents in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan and Libya are on their hands. Nobody wants to think that the lives of their loved ones were wasted or squandered, but wishing that doesn't make it so.
So don't talk to me about "Support our troops." Bring them home.
This song was recorded by soul singer Freda Payne back in 1971 during the Vietnam War. (I didn't know until looking for it on Youtube that it had also been remade by Canadian singer Jann Arden). I wish there was a better video available, this one is just lyrics.
"Fathers are pleading, lovers are all alone Mothers are prayin', send our sons back home You marched them away on ships and planes To a senseless war facing death in vain
Bring the boys home (bring 'em back alive) Bring the boys home (bring 'em back alive)
(Why don't you) Turn the ships around (Everybody oughta) Lay your weapons down
Can't you see 'em marchin' 'cross the sky? All the soldiers that have died Tryin' to get home Can't you see them tryin' to get home? Tryin' to get home They're tryin' to get home
Cease all fire on the battlefield Enough men have already been wounded and killed Bring the boys home (bring 'em back alive) What they doin' over there now (bring 'em back alive) When we need 'em over here now? (bring 'em back alive)
(Why don't you) Turn the ships around (Everybody oughta) Lay your weapons down"
How can it be that forty years later this song is still relevant? Shame on you, America.
A few weeks ago when jazz poet/prophet Gil Scott-Heron passed, I asked "who would tell the truth" in his absence. I realized shortly after that I had a prime candidate in mind in Ursula Rucker, a Philadelphia-based poet and singer. She's recorded three conventional albums, released two digital-only albums, and has worked as a featured guest with a host of important artists on the cutting edge of socially/spiritually/politically conscious music.
The video above is "Awakening," from the 2007 album Play with the Changes by the genius British duo 4hero. The chill-out groove is pure 4hero but the lyrical message is all Ursula Rucker: a sort of dialogue between mother and daughter about carrying the torch to the next generation.
"Sister girl wanna tell you about this thing that's been weighing heavy on my heart haunts both my dreams and my first breath, hmmm where to start well Revolution it seems has become an antique when in my youth revolution was what we rose with the sun to seek we were fierce
Now, our glory days are nothing but a page, in an edge worn book an afro a raised fist, a black beret, black pride set aside to mere history, it saddens me, hmm it saddens me, but will these words fall on deaf ears cos my tears won't fill up the riverbed of resistance and change, it's gone dry and gone and unkown are the names which gave that river its tranquility, its beautiful force and godspeed rise up out of the complacency induced sleep we need, an Awakening.
Bring the noise daughter now is the time for you and your generation to put this universal chaos in order...
But Mama, the resistance seemed so futile, when all the while, government and media massacre my dreams, We, my brothers and sisters and me, are at the mercy of Dotcoms, Bombs that kill at least 30 daily the constant downward spiral of music and humanity, a general lack of concern, knowledge and history, our potential leaders and spokespeople are chasing materialistic ideals seems our fates have been sealed with a Bling Bling kiss...
Mama, i still question the meanings of freedom and peace but i will not retreat, i will instead meet this challenge head on and heart strong. Sing my protest songs..."
Rucker's poetry is often political like this, delivered in a beautifully eloquent shifting hybrid of poetry slam, singing, rap and confession: it's hip-hop at its most creative and conscious. I saw her perform once in New York City backed by only a guitarist with a sequencer: I was spellbound. She's angry sometimes, righteously indignant; she really knows how to preach. But if she can channel an angry Mother Earth as she does in 4hero's "Loveless" (another great video on youtube), she can also be vulnerable and even maternal.
"Release" from Rucker's 2003 album Silver or Lead, featuring music by NY Latin/groove DJ Little Louie Vega, is her 9/11 song:
"And blue that day When, everything changed What changed? Who really changed?...
When towers be falling And Babylon be calling your name, my name How will we answer? How will we answer?
With dread? With faith? With misplaced power or power of prayer? With bigotry? With humanity? With love? With love Release
Release your heart"
She reverently follows the footsteps of important, and too often forgotten, female voices like Sonia Sanchez and Jayne Cortez who married poetry, music, feminist consciousness, and political commitment. Importantly she brings a youthful accessibility and hipness like Dana Bryant and Jill Scott, though I find her focus sharper and her edge harder. Aside from 4hero and Louie Vega, she's worked with Jazzanova, the Roots, King Britt, and even slick UK acid jazz group Incognito. Her recitations marry well with the European techno-groove sensibility that harvests American jazz-funk of the 1970s for inspiration, which also means she's perfect for my own taste in music.
While not all of her work is political, when she makes a statement I can't think of anyone else who presents the politics of social justice and liberation in such a profoundly spiritual way. From her perspective these things are not separate: the way human beings treat each other is called to a higher level of respect and consciousness. While these songs are not single-issue anti-war tunes, her observation of the blights on our world and society is unsparing and far-reaching.
This song is less overtly political, but a live version of the highlight title track from her most recent album "She Said," this one borders rock and roll. It's impossible to forget that hers is a woman's perspective, where love and hope share space with hope, bitterness and frustration. She specializes in, well, the truth.
As she sings on her recent album: "Wake the fuck up, cause t'ings have run amock!"
