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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 21 Mar 02 - 04:22 AM Well, another song to remember... "We are gentle angery people, and we are singing singing for our lives..." We had a great laugh at Midweek Meeting, remembering Freinds who would and did say the like of "Give me a fucking break" during meeting... The bottom line is this... We are living in the city, most likely than ever before to suffer a nuclear blast for the behavior of a government out of control, and frankly I am more than angery, I am furrious. My band members, one in particular, weeps at the songs Amadou Diallo and Engine 33, and while not making a comitment to this band, is well comitted to a band which plays fluff. I would trade a single tear for an ounce of commitment, as we are, quite litterally playing for our lives, as well as the lives of the victems of this toltalitarian capitalist state, which is snuffing out lives like a house wife with a raid can going after flys. Yes, give me a fucking break, and give a break to the victems of American apathy everywhere. I would be overjoyed if you tossed my lifes work on the scrap heap of history and worked HARD for peace and justice. Give us all a break. I remember passing the UN during the Cuban missile crises with my father and thinking that the fate of our two nations lies in that place, if we die or not, it all happens there between Mr. Kennidy and Mr. Kruschev. Oh, to trade baby bushkins for Mr. Kennidy. How unlikely we were to suffer the results of a failed policy then, compaired to now. Needing a break, Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Suffet Date: 21 Mar 02 - 06:55 AM My reposting of the song from last December must not be taken as a farewell to Larry Otway and his wonderful work. He will continue to tell us of woes and joys, and long may he live to do so. My purpose is to gently say it's time to move on. Larry, you bemoan the lack of commitment among the musicians with whom you have worked, and you tell us this has been an on-going problem as twenty or more people have passed through your band. Rather than blaming individuals, either yourself or those former band members, and rather than blame the particular culture of New York City, let's play Marxian for the moment and presume for the sake of argument that the lack of commitment is indicative of the socio-cultural superstructure. What we need to do is look deeper at the underlying economic relationships, in particular the realtionship of each individual to the means of production. The first and most obvious is that you are the band leader and they are the workers. We know that you have gone out of your way to be a good boss and to make certain that your band members get paid fairly for their work, just as I am certain that Fred Engels took care to see that the workers in the factory he owned were treated well and paid fairly. But your good intentions and good deeds do not change the fundamental relationship bewteen you and them. Given that reality, their lack of commitment is more than understandable. It is what one would expect, not because they objectively lack commitment, whatever that may mean, but because the boss and the workers view the concept of commitment differently. Now, I don't want to portray you as the Evil Capitalist. You are not. You are as très petit as petit bougeois can possibly be, and we certainly can have a discussion about the role of the petty bourgeoisie in the advanced capitalist world. Very often their position is much worse than that of the traditional worker, and that fact is not lost on corporate leaders who frequently prefer outsourcing production to small businesses and to the nominally self-employed, in lieu of hiring more workers, particlarly hiring more workers under unionized conditions. Ah, but I digress. Maybe, had Sorcha Dorcha been cooperatively owned and managed, lack of commitment would not be a problem. But there would have been another a certainly greater problems: your lack of final artistic control. That is the dilemma all artists must face. Either the vision and the direction are yours, in which case you are the boss and you shouldn't expect others to share your level of commitment. Or else you become part of some collective, in which instance the vision and direction are yours only in part. My advice, which I shall repeat for the last time, is that despite the concern you have stated, the time has come for you to go solo. --- Steve |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Suffet Date: 21 Mar 02 - 07:05 AM Sorry for the unintended boldface. --- Steve |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 21 Mar 02 - 08:07 AM Hey Stevarino! I agree, to a degree. In the past I alowed members to bring in whatever music they wanted, and the gig's lacked direction... now I include a tune or two from members who write and a favorite tune or two from members who don't... does not seem to make a diff. AGAIN, my bold writing pal, read past posts to the thread... How do you go solo if you don't play any instruments to which you can sing? Two nights ago, the gig was going great, I did one unacompanied song, went fine, started another in the second set, and saw the audience begin to lose interest. I stoped the song and said, here is a better idea, and went into a whole band song, and back they came... didn't even notice the change in the middle of the song. Now, if I were in a concert hall it would be different, but when you have to play pubs, you can't stand on a stage alone and sing to nothing. Thanks for the suggestion though, Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: mzkitty Date: 21 Mar 02 - 08:53 AM Come to North Carolina! Loads of dedicated and committed musicians and artists of all sorts, pleantiful jobs and inspirational natural resourses. I have based successfully out of Coastal NC for 35 years, raising 3 kids, being a full time musician. You can get anywhere from here and coming home is the best part. There is a large tourist flow as well as supportive local communities. The Eastern section draws ocean lovers, Mid-section, the college folks, Western section, mountian lovers and college people....and everywhere, MUSIC! (It's a real blessing to love where you live and be able to support yourself there as well!) |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 21 Mar 02 - 09:11 AM I played last month in Ashville NC... Loved it, can't convince my wife to move... Ce' L'vie... North Carolina is the tops... In fact Mzkitty, PM me an adress and I will send you a Sorcha Dorcha CD, it is always good to be heard in NC! Cheers Larry ... |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Jerry Rasmussen Date: 21 Mar 02 - 10:27 AM Hi, Larry: Are you bemoaning a lack of commitment in general, or a lack of commitment in others to what you're committed to? There are many deeply committed musicians who are giving generously of themselves in support of the poor, the homeless, the sick and bedridden. I could name a long list, but might embarass some people. They are not apathetic. They just feel committed to other self-less, worthy causes. Jerry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 21 Mar 02 - 10:51 AM Hi Jerry, if you are really intersted, PM me, I am not about to put myself in the possition of bragging, other than to say, I have and I do walk many miles a month for justice. Cheers, Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: McGrath of Harlow Date: 21 Mar 02 - 01:47 PM Just had another look at that last post I wrote, and it occurred to me it might be open to misinterpretation. I wrote:
"For example, in Amadou, you mention the attempt by the killers to claim that he had been reaching for a gun. It's been proved that that was a lie. When I sing that song it is helpful to know that."
What I meant was not that it was a lie to say that the killers claimed that he had been reaching for a gun. I meant that it had been proved that they did make that claim, and that they were lying when they did so.
Isn't this a convoluted language sometimes?
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 21 Mar 02 - 01:57 PM McGrath, I know exactly what you meant, for example, this morning as I trough the cow over the fence ... some hay, I was musing on how funny it is to write to each other rather than to speak with each other... Cheers ol'pal, Larry PS check out the new song, |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Jerry Rasmussen Date: 21 Mar 02 - 02:48 PM As I PM'd Larry, I think that what gets us both is people who hace received many gifts and talents and only use them for selfish reasons. I've never understood someone taking pride in a gift. Being able to sing is a GIFT which can be taken away. Same with playing an instrument. There are Mudcatters who have had to deal with the loss of the use of their hands or their voice. Everything we have is a gift, and should be used to help, support, encourage and entertain others. People who search for happiness never find it. It's a by-product of living a good life. Like 5th magnitude stars you can only see if you don't look directly at them.
Believe me, the ways that Larry gives of himself are far too lenthy to post on this thread.
We need more men (and women) like him. Jerry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: McGrath of Harlow Date: 21 Mar 02 - 05:08 PM Pride is an odd concept.
It can just mean being pleased that someone or something we love exists and is doing something we like to see them doing - and that can include the music we play and the hands we use to play it with.
Or it can mean a kind of pride of possession - as if in some way we own these people or things, and anything good about them glorifies us. We are in charge.
The second meaning is why pride has always been seen as seriously harmful and to be avoided, by people who take these things seriusly.
The first meaning, I hope, is what we really mean most of the time when we talk about being proud of something. And it implies a responsibility not to waste what we've been lucky enough to be in some way under our control. |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Jerry Rasmussen Date: 21 Mar 02 - 05:24 PM You got it McGraht:
"Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth." Let us not get puffethed up.
I sense thread creep. Jerry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Suffet Date: 21 Mar 02 - 09:47 PM Ever hear of Millard Thomas? He has been accompanying Harry Belafonte on guitar for more than half a century. Larry, what you need is your own Millard Thomas, or maybe two or three Millard Thomases, whom you can hire as needed. That's all I'm saying. Millard Thomas info & pix. --- Steve |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 21 Mar 02 - 09:49 PM Hi Steve... can we clone him?????????? CHeers, Larry, PS check out the new song... and another wee song from InOBU... |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Suffet Date: 28 Apr 02 - 11:59 PM Will wonders never cease? Last night with my very own eyes I saw InOBU join the New York Pinewoods Folk Music Club! Time to sing The World Turned Upside Down. --- Steve |
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Subject: Midwinter Hoot! 2/2/03 From: Suffet Date: 28 Nov 02 - 08:25 PM Coming soon to the Big Apple! THE FIRST ANNUAL MIDWINTER HOOT -- A ROUND-ROBIN SONGFEST Sunday, February 2, 2003 7 to 9 PM Featuring... Jessica Feinbloom Joel Landy Anne Price Eric Levine Steve Suffet and others subject to confirmation CB's 313 Gallery 313 Bowery New York City $5 cover lets you stay all evening and hear other acts as well. |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 28 Nov 02 - 10:06 PM Bah humbug... Cheers Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 28 Nov 02 - 10:07 PM On a serrious note... isn't this a wee bit of thread creep, Steve? Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Suffet Date: 29 Nov 02 - 09:58 AM More than a wee bit, Larry! But this thread has "NYC" and "Folk" in the title, so I figured it would be better to stray here than to start a new thread. Did you check out that El Puente gig for12/13/02? I'll be doing a couple of songs that night at Community Church in Manhattan, as a guest artist in the NYC Street Singers' holiday show. But if you are playing and if I can cut myself loose quickly enough, I'll trot over to Brooklyn or Queens or wherever and catch your performance. --- Steve |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 29 Nov 02 - 06:58 PM I called and got a recording and no way to leave a message... Cheers Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: dick greenhaus Date: 29 Nov 02 - 11:42 PM InOBU- Back in my day (the early Jurassic, as I recall) there were a few competent accompianists around (I was one of them.) I'm sure there still are. |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 30 Nov 02 - 02:15 PM Hi Dick! Did I ever send you my CD? As you will see, if you don't have it (and PM me and I will send it to you...) it is not simple music to play... dynamics in Irish music aren't in the simple three cords, but in the dynamics that good araingements make. One band member, for example, a fine musician, used to miss a break ever time we played it, where the whole band would drop out leaving the Uilleann pipes playing alone, (for those of you with the CD, the break in the first track, between Lietrim Thrush and An Phis Fluch...) well, as a result the change between the tunes, in stead of sounding tight and fine, would sound ragged and sloppy. I'd remind the fellow as we set out into the tune, and watch his face as he'd space out during the playing, and well, it is not a matter of just accompanists, but finding folks who are behind the meaning of the songs and the sence of the music. Fact is, I put serrious thought and human rights messages into music that makes people think. Frankly I am sick to hell of apathetic folks who just don't get it the way audiences do. I am damn near chucking in the whole damn thing. I write because I can't help it, but to hell with playing for anybody else. Happy new year, Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 30 Nov 02 - 02:18 PM PS dick... here is a small sample of my writing... it isn't shit, though it is often treated as such by band members or venue owners... Scales of Revenge Words Lorcan Otway, Tune Traditional, Willy Of Windsburry from the singing of the great Anne Briggs. Oh America's fired a cruse missile, and it's killed my brother's son Now I must put my hopes aside and learn the way of the gun Oh why and how can they do such things, why bring such grief to me Now I will go and seek revenge for my faith and my dignity Oh some men from Saudi Arabia, have killed my old school friend He was never a part of any war, why bring him this awful end? Oh why and how can they do such things, why bring this grief to me, Now I will go and seek revenge for my friend and for my country Oh the helicopters came last night, and we fled into the dark But American bullets flew from above, killing my wife, my love, Oh why and how can they do these things, why bring this grief to me, As generations of Afghans before, I'll defend this poor country My son, my son, he will never return, in a foreign war he lies slain He was fighting for his home and hearth, on some barren Afghani plain Oh why and how can they do these things, why bring such grief to me Send troops send troops, to far Iraq, to stop this insanity And here I sit and I watch the world, as blood is shed for blood And I can only wonder why and how can we stem this flood Oh why oh how can they do such things, on justice's bloody path, And who will be left to say in the end, we've balanced the scales at last Don't stop, don't stop for our martyred dead, or one inch of blood soaked soil, But stop oh stop for the love of your child, in fields of hope now toil Oh how oh why can't we begin, by putting grief behind We can not ever pay for the dead, by paying another in kind. Centuries of Pain The Ballad of Amadou Diallo Lorcan Amadou was born, where humanity sprang from, In a land forced to give away its best. Where a foreigners hand, stole the riches from the land even tearing her children from her breast. Verdant forests cut down, and gold ripped from the ground and her diamonds sparkling in many a foreign crown Ancient wisdom denied, history buried beneath lies hers a legacy of centuries of pain. He came to a land of gold, where his homeland's wealth was sold, hoping he could find a place to make his way. By the sweat of his brow, he would make a life somehow, in a land far from family and friends. In the streets of New York, he set out to live his dreams though things where much different than his hopes still he felt he'd get by, not often wondering why, here his people found a legacy of pain. Coming home one night, in his hallway's stark white light, gunmen challenged him - he turned to ask them why. Many shots then blazed, Amadou stood amazed Why was he being murdered by these men? In that hallway where he died, once again many men lied, saying Amadou was reaching for a gun. But history is clear, so many die each year, This is still our nations legacy of pain A mother came to take, her son back to lie in the soil from which humanity emerged. In a brave mothers tears, we saw the burden of the years, of a land forced to give away her best Amadou my son, what have these strangers done? Could they not see the child I held so dear? Where they blinded by their badge, or the color of your skin? or the legacy of centuries of pain? Who Will Marry Me Lorcan Otway all rights reserved... I'm a Bangladeshi Hindu girl, I cannot say my name I cannot show my face to you, I'm forced to flee in shame I cannot find the words to tell, what they did to me When the gangs came to my village and robbed my dignity I cannot speak the words my fear, and horror to relate When the women of my village became, the target of your hate With nothing but my tattered clothes, I have been forced to flee For after my public shame, who would ever marry me In the decade before I was born, my land was wracked with pain Democracy and Freedom, religious rights to gain All the people of our land, shared the terror of that night to cast off religious hatred and, emerge into the light I can't understand why the world, allows hate to divide my land Is our pain so foreign to your world, that you can't understand The tears of my nation, a waterwheel could turn Can they not touch your heart enough, our history to learn How my story ends I cannot say, what's ahead I cannot see Fundamentalism's fertile fields, are starved lands of poverty But in the ruins of my land and life, I can only cry in vain why must I bear the shame alone, who would ever share my pain One question more I'll ask of you, before I flee my land One question more I'll put to you, I'm too young to understand One question more I must demand, before I turn to go, for the answer to this question, no young girl may ever know My sister's bodies have become, the target's of your war And our mother's and our grandmothers, for countless years before How can it be our dishonor, why is it our disgrace Ghosts of our nation word, Lorcan Otway all rights reserved Tune The Shamrock Shore. Farewell to the land, of Jefferson and Franklin Farewell to the dreams of the good Thomas Paine We have sacrificed our freedom, on the altar of security and I fear we may not soon see the likes of both again, For this land was more than a flag or a slogan this land was more than its rocks or its clay This land was a gift given us by great thinkers a dream which lesser men have now cast away The rule of law is hobbled and no rights are now held sacred except the right to steal and plunder in the name of corporate greed While bible thumping patriots, in the guise of elder statesmen rob for the wealth of few from the people in most need Now our prisons are full of the men of no property and back alleys are filled with the hopeless and insane but still we are told, that this is the land of liberty and told to ignore those whom our country causes pain Who can hold up their head, and proud proclaim their homeland while leaders whet the assassins knife by stealth upon the road this is not the act of a land of law and of justice no mater who the target, we must live by legal code What light of hope now shines in the halls of Philadelphia what words of bravery speak out from the senate floor what black thoughts now taint with blood, the hopes of a nation when politician pimps make sweet liberty their whore But I cast my gaze, to the hills of our history, while I stake my few hopes on the words of our past For while a spark shines on, in the ashes of these ruins the light of freedom's fires may dispel the shadows cast And each one of you, who remembers where we came from proclaim your love liberty and reject the cynics sneer cast fear upon the pyre of the promises of tyrants turn away from craven cowards, and true hearts now draw near. The Probies of 01 Words Lorcan Otway, Tune Arthur McBride from the singing of Paul Brady Inspired by Dan "the bike" Rowan chauffeur of Ladder 9, and dedicated to 343 firefighters and their loved ones. I saw in the eyes of a Probie last night, That familiar confidence that sense of fight And I knew as I watched in the flashing red light, I knew that our brothers had finally come home So although the flags remain at half mast, And though o'er the doorway grim buntings are cast three hundred and forty three wounds will e're last I know that our brothers have finally come home All the new Probies know that which they face They know of the dangerous demon we chase And while shouldering the burden they'll never replace Those heroes our brothers, they helped to bring home So here's to the Probies who joined in O one As they sort out the job, as they have begun To take up the slack where the bravest would run As they help to usher our lost brothers home So I look past the flags and the buntings and grief At so many young faces providing relief The orange shield on your helmets expresses belief You carry our brothers, back to us and home. Yvette's Song When I was young, my people lived, along the Moise River's flow Summer when the Salmon came, it's fishing we would go, and oh the way the Salmon ran Then came the fall, and with it the snow, North and west to hunt we'd go, Following the Caribou, and o the way the Salmon ran and o how the Salmon ran. Then one day, the Canadians came, took away the children in a big sea plane Told us we were for boarding school, and o how the children ran, and o the way the children ran Kwai kwai, I said to the teacher there, she slapped my face and pulled my hair Bon jour was the greeting then, and o how my old words ran and o the way my old words ran They took away my clothes of Caribou, took my moccasins and cut my long hair too, schooled me in the white world's ways and o how traditions ran, and o the way traditions ran When I was 18 I went to Quebec, to get a job with a fat pay check It was there I found I was Indian, and o how my hope then ran and o the way all hope then ran For an Indian there was no work at all but there were drugs and there was alcohol and soon my life, it was adrift, like a feather on the Moise's flow like a feather on the Moise's flow But the Bear spirit came to me spoke of my Grandmother, and the Moise and back I went to Grandmother's door and o the way my cares then ran and oh the way all care then ran There I remembered I was Innu again, Not a Montainaise and not your Indian and o how good the Salmon was and o the way the white ways ran and o how the white ways ran. Now you bring us your mines and dams you pollute our rives you destroy our land now there is no place to run there will be no place to stand there will be no place to stand. Lough Neagh - words Lorcan Otway tune General Monroe/Sally Monroe (Depending what foot you dig with ;-) ) Come all ye good people, who toil on the land and attend to these verses, that you might understand how an ancient injustice, commenced long ago still enslaves all the fishers who sail from Ardboe My name's Brian Hannon, I'm a fisher b' trade in the town of Ardboe I was born and raised and well I remember that very first day that I sailed with my father to fish on Lough Neagh How bitter for Ulster was fifteen ninety-four for the loss of our land after the nine year war Tyrone, Tyrconnell, and McQuire swept away While our forefathers clung on to harvest Lough Neagh What cold hearted nation, could remember with pride the slaughter of parents with babes by their side When Arthur Chitchester despoiled Lough Neagh's shore enslaving the fisherfolk, there evermore All around Dungannon, whole families he slew he burned all the crops and wee cottages too, while no reparations could this injustice repay his descendants extort rent from us to this day Now we toil on these waters unjust rent to pay to Anthony Cooper, who now claims Lough Neagh We toil that he might give one million pounds to his gold digging third wife is she pouts or frowns Now pollution has darkened the waters we need for no absentee land lord could e're fully heed the loving concern that it takes everyday to preserve the sweet gifts of our treasure, Lough Neagh For these waters we love, for they've given us life Its the love that a man only feels for his wife for these waters have fed us from our people's first day we're as wed to these waters as the fish of Lough Neagh The Ballad of Richard Murray Words Lorcan Otway from a true story told my Anna L. Curtis Tune Girl of the County Down. In eighteen hundred and fifty six, I was in my eleventh year There came a pounding at the door, which seized my heart with fear For I knew we Quakers were hated, for our love of liberty For my parents were abolitionists, and foes of slavery My father, John Murray, cracked the door and peered outside When a burly man forced the door open, and pushed him too one side He glanced around the room then said, I see you're all at home He then went out to his men, leaving us, for a time, alone My father knew they would search the barn, and find our horses gone So he told me to go up to my room, and t'is that, that I would have done But I paused a moment on the stair, and I know I was not to have seen My mother leading a Black man, to the room where I had been Then my father called me down again, and he sat me by the fire And he told me to pop some corn, and fear not what ere may transpire For there came a hammering at the door, "Break it in" the men did call So my father threw the door open wide, and three men fell into our hall When they regained their feet again, their anger cause me alarm "We're after a nigger slave this night, who ran off from his master's farm" "Thee will find no slaves in this house, my friend, only folks as free as thee But, welcome to look as hard as thee may, thou wilt not be stopped by me " I tried to look calm as I wondered where on earth our guest might hide In so plain and small a room as this, and I glanced from side to side My mother handed a candle, to the men to give them light "Take care that thee should not curse the dark," she said with some delight Our home was then filled with sounds of men searching everywhere Every room and closet was opened but they found no escapee there At last they left, and even said, they were sorry for the harm Having broken a chair, when they tumbled in, it was that which they fell upon What did thee do with that man father, I asked, once the men were gone So thee saw, my father said to me, it is time thee knew learned my son He motioned me up from the hearthstone, then moved it to one side And there I saw a room below, where several might safely hide "Can I come up now" came a voice from the dark, "Yes I think it is safe thee now" And, I was introduced to Samuel then, I was proud I do allow For I was now a conductor on our railroad underground And I'd do my part for justice, until freedom's bell would sound The Ballad of Judith Folger To the tune of Anachie Gordon Words by Lorcan Otway From a true story told to me by Anna Curtis, the Great Great Granddaughter of Judith Folger. My father was a whaling man, I'm proud to tell to thee Master of a Nantucket whaling ship, the Lively Sally As fierce a Quaker whaler man, as ever left this shore He said to his wife one day, I fear there will be war The year was 1775 we set out on the sea, Sailed up the Hudson river, to a place near Albany We bad farewell to father's ship, and the fisher's life To start again on the frontier, away from war and strife In the forests of the Iroquois, we set out to begin anew We of the Folger family, and our Brother Samoset to, For his parents died of the sickness, several years before When almost every Indian died, on Nantucket's wind swept shore In the Easton Quaker settlement, we lived two happy years Till Johnny Burgoyne's army came, and we were filled with fear For through out the long summer, Burgoyne's Native allies, Were sent to raid the settlements, to raise the armies supplies It was at Mid week meeting, that the Indians came at last They burst into our meeting house, a frightening gaze they cast Upon each seated Quaker, as we worshiped silently Until the chief met the gaze of Zebulon Hoxie Both looked into each other's eyes, yet not a word was said The natives put their weapons down, and each bowed his head And at the rise of meeting, our native guests we led, To Zebulon Hoxie's house, there to break some bread And when the meal was taken, the chief rose to say I came into your house today, each one of you to slay I saw you talking with the Lord, and I listened also He told me not to kill you, in Friendship now, we'll go He placed a feather o'er our door, a sign that we were friends And there I leave my story, though this story never ends, For they saw God in all of us, as we saw God in them And thee may think on Easton, and live in peace my friends Cheers Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: GUEST,I too am good Date: 30 Nov 02 - 02:43 PM here is a small sample of my writing... it isn't shit, though it is often treated as such by band members or venue owners... Maybe your band members and venue owners are more objective judges of your writing than you are. From what I've gathered from 20 years of playing in bands is that if my mates do not believe in the strength of the songs, the audience sure won't. Something else I've gathered is that venue owners come to know what works in their venue. If it's a bar, the objective is to sell drinks and they want music that people will want to drink to. If it's a coffeehouse or concert, they want headliners who will bring in the audience and support artists who will hold the audience's attention and suitably prepare the crowd for the headliner. If you're not up to those tasks, then you're of little use to the venue owner. |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 30 Nov 02 - 05:16 PM Dear Guest, sign your name or get stuffed. Larry |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: GUEST,I too am good Date: 01 Dec 02 - 10:20 AM Pretty funny there Larry. Especially since you know exactly who I am, and since you know full well that I've been to see you play more than once and have heard your songs. Just between you and me, your personality can be pretty alienating, and that may have something to do with why people don't want to play with you, or hire you. About getting stuffed, though. It's three days since Thanksgiving and I'm still stuffed. Lots of leftovers keeping me that way. Haha! |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: Fortunato Date: 01 Dec 02 - 11:26 AM Hey, Larry, I'm signing on late here, but I find myself in agree with Suffet about maintaining a 'bench'. I'm located in DC. Everyone tells me it's different than New York. I wouldn't know. It's smaller anyway. The Irish scene here is not small, however. There are quite a few venues. I'm sure Seamus Kennedy could tell you more about that than I. My impression is that many musicians in the circuit play or have played with everyone else if they're any good, use a kind of 'bench' system. As you may remember I play Old Time Country Music now. But I've been a solo folk performer, hosted open mikes, played in country bands, rock bands and western swing bands. I've played on the 'strip' in burlesque houses and I've played in NCO clubs and I've played in coffee houses. All that to say, I'm not inexperienced in putting together, booking and breaking up bands. That said, here's my current take on this. I am the band leader. Fascist? No, far from it. I ain't Benny Goodman, but I am the guy responsible for making the show work. The vision is mine (though my wife shares it), the planning is largely mine. the research is mine and the implementation is mine. What success there is, is shared because it's ABOUT THE MUSIC. I hire the best musicians I can bring to a venue or recording session. If 'S' can't make it I'll find another bass player; if the fiddler can't make it I'll find another. I cut CDs and give the 'hired guns' the material ahead of time. These guys are so damn good they don't need real rehearsal and know how to listen and watch. That keeps the intros and outs formulaic, yes, but "shave and a haircut, two bits" works every damn time doesn't it? I don't know what you've done or tried other than what I read up there, so I'm not commenting on your efforts AT ALL! Just my own, ok? Would I like to have a band of 'soul mates', sure. But in the meantime the message to me is this: IF THE AUDIENCE SHOWS UP AND LIKES THE SHOW, THE VENUE OWNER WILL LIKE THE SHOW. IF THE VENUE OWNERS LIKE THE SHOW, I'LL HAVE PLACES TO PERFORM. If they don't then I don't. Now it's up to me to put together the show. No excuses, nobody else to blame. It's a tough business and I'm glad I have a day job. All the best to you and good luck with your music. Chance |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 01 Dec 02 - 05:51 PM Well, doesn't that just prove what a coward you are, guest? If you contend that my personality is at fault, sign your damn name. It is easy to liable someone from behind the wall, coward. Get a life and you will be happy to hang a name on it, till then, I reiterate, get stuffed. Larry Otway |
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Subject: RE: Commitment and Success in NYC Folk From: InOBU Date: 01 Dec 02 - 05:53 PM While posting on the mudcat site, so many a tune did borrow, my songs inflamed, many a fascist clan and one wee guest named Yarrow This Yarrow she did post with spite and many a phrase so callow Invective she hurled with all her might did this one wee guest named Yarrow But words bereft of mighty wit where met with naught but sorrow for one who posts with no real point this one wee guest named Yarrow So poets all, raise up yer glass We'll toast and sing till it be morrow And when the words flow fast and free We'll have a dram for Yarrow Larry |
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