I typed this once before, and managed to lose it, so if it crops up somewhere else, forgive me.

John (not Jon): I'm afraid I've never heard Buffy Ste. Marie's version. I learned the song originally from Robin Roberts, a very beautiful actress/singer who collected in Ireland with Alan Lomax. Then, at an after-concert gathering in a home in eastern Massachusetts, an elderly gentleman asked me if I'd ever heard the song and proceeded to sing me a fine version of it. I, the fool, had no tape recorder with me, and I've since lost the man's name and address. (Dumb and always disorganized!)

Since that night, I realize that I've incorporated elements of his version into the one I already knew. Hell, it turns out that I can inadvertently corrupt the tradition as much as any other collector. I think it's a Heisenbergian thing: The instrument used to measure the event, by its very presence, alters the event. Stick a microphone in front of an old traditional singer and his or her performance immediately becomes more self-conscious. Thus, every field recording is a bit different from the way the song might have been sung while walking behind a plow or washing dishes at the kitchen sink. It may be unavoidable, but we've always attempted to minimize it as much as possible.

Sandy