The record I learned the song from—and a song book I found later—both listed it as "MacPherson's Fareweel." As in "Fareweel, ye dungeons dark and strong. . . ."   I saw it listed as "MacPherson's Rant some years later in another song book.

It seems a bit picky and pointless to argue over whether "Lord Randal" should be spelled with on "L" or two.

Does it matter that much?

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I was sitting one day in The Folklore Center, a music store devoted to various kinds of folk music, on Seattle's University Way back around 1960 or so. Big John, proprietor of the store stocked a number of inexpensive guitars, a banjo or two, and strings of all kinds, along with music instruction books, song books, and a huge stock of folk records.

Big John and I, along with a couple of other people, were listening to one of a recent shipment of LP records that had just come in. It consisted of an interesting variety of folk songs and ballads, And the singer had a round, rich, obviously trained bass voice. He was singing the songs very well. Unlike a number of classical or operatic singers who occasionally add a folk song or two to their recital programs, and who make the mistake of giving the song the full operatic treatment.

I once heard the great American basso, George London, who does a marvelous job of singing Wotan in Wagner's "Ring of the Nibelungs" and the title role in "Boris Godunov," sing "Lord Randal," treating it like the "Boris's death" scene in the aforementioned opera. Gawd-bloody-awfull!!.

But this singer obviously knew what he was doing. He was singing the songs straight, with none of the pyrotechnics that some classical singers try.

As we listened, a fellow came into the shop wearing a back-pack and lugging a guitar case. He stood there and listened for a few minutes, then threw a hissy-fit. He pointed at the turntable with a trembling finger and shouted, "That man has NO RIGHT to sing those songs! He's a classical singer! That's a folk song! He has no right to sing those songs with a voice like that!!!"

Turned out the guy had hitchhiked up from Berkeley, and was one of the klatch of hard-nosed ethnic purists of the ilk that Bob Nelson and I had encountered in 1959, when we were barnstorming in the Bay Area. They tried their damnedest to sound like field recordings, and I think those who had naturally good voices were forced to gargle with Drano.

What this fellow didn't know was that the singer on the record was Win Stracke, who was the co-founder in 1956, along with Frank Hamilton (who adds his knowledge and wisdom to these threads from time to time), of the Old Town School of Folk Music in Chicago. Win Stacke, along with Frank Hamilton, has done more to further an appreciation and understanding of folk music in a large number of people than this unwashed college drop-out would ever be able to comprehend!

When he calmed down a bit, he said that he had come to Seattle looking for singing jobs. I did hear him sing at a songfest a few evenings later. He was a pale imitation of Woody Guthrie and an indifferent guitarist, and sneered a lot when other people sang. Some Good Samaritan took pity on him and allow him to sleep on his couch while he looked for singing jobs. The Good Samaritan told me later that the guy did nothing but complain and never left the apartment, apparently expecting Sol Hurok to come and beg to be allowed to act as his agent-manager. He kept raiding the G. S.'s refrigerator without offering to contribute. Bitched the whole time he was there. Didn't bathe. After about a week, he declared Seattle to be the "asshole of the world," then picked up his guitar and headed for Vancouver, British Columbia.

Never heard from or about him again.

After reading some of Mr. Hinkle's criticisms of those who've never served time in the hoosegow having the audacity to think they can sing folk songs, I was somehow reminded of this guy. . . .

Don Firth