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Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again/Uncle Ned

DigiTrad:
BEAUTIFUL DREAMER
BEAUTIFUL HOME
BEAUTIFUL TEAMSTERS
BRIGHTER DAYS IN STORE
CAMPTOWN RACES
COME TO THY LATTICE, LOVE
DON'T BET YOUR MONEY ON DE SHANGHAI
GENTLE ANNIE
GENTLE ANNIE 2
GLENDY BURKE
HARD TIMES COME AGAIN NO MORE
I DREAM OF JEANNIE WITH THE LIGHT BROWN HAIR
I WOULD NOT DIE IN SUMMER TIME
MASSA'S IN DE COLD, COLD GROUND
MOLLY DO YOU LOVE ME
NELLY BLY
OH! BOYS CARRY ME 'LONG
OH, SUSANNA
OLD BLACK JOE
OLD DOG TRAY
OLD FOLKS AT HOME
OLD KENTUCKY HOME
SOME FOLKS DO
THE SONG OF ALL SONGS
UNCLE NED
UNCLE NED
WHEN THIS DREADFUL WAR IS ENDED
WILLIE, WE HAVE MISSED YOU


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In Mudcat MIDIs:
Uncle Ned [Stephen Collins Foster]


JudeL 03 Nov 02 - 12:10 PM
Joe Offer 03 Nov 02 - 12:30 PM
JudeL 03 Nov 02 - 12:36 PM
masato sakurai 03 Nov 02 - 12:41 PM
JudeL 03 Nov 02 - 12:50 PM
GUEST,Richie 03 Nov 02 - 04:16 PM
Charley Noble 03 Nov 02 - 08:07 PM
Joe Offer 03 Nov 02 - 08:54 PM
McGrath of Harlow 03 Nov 02 - 09:06 PM
masato sakurai 03 Nov 02 - 09:19 PM
Joe Offer 03 Nov 02 - 09:29 PM
GUEST,ukulelegrrl@yahoo.com 25 Jun 06 - 05:14 PM
Jim Dixon 29 Jun 06 - 01:13 AM
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Subject: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again^^
From: JudeL
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 12:10 PM

We'll neber hear de banjo play again

John Rutter Rutledge 1888

Dat dear ole soul ole Uncle Ned
is lying in his grave
de banjo now hang silent by de door
We miss the songs of evenin'
that we used to fondly crave
but we'll neber hear him play dem any more.
He used to sing and play so sweet
when daylight went away
and we neber thought of sorrow or of pain.
It made us oh so happy just to hear de banjo play
but we'll neber hear him play it anymore.

Oh peaceful may he slumber
while de angels watch above
Cos he am free from sorrow and from pain.
But gone is all de music
and de songs we used to love
and we'll neber hear de banjo play again!

Down in the cotton fields we work
de long and lonely hours
while sadness seems to linger eberywhere.
De birds of song we used to hear
no more sing in de flowers
but waste their sweetness on the desert air.
For dey would sing to Uncle Ned
and he would sing to dem
around his little cabin in de lane.
But now he's gone de rose am dead
and fallen from its stem
and we'll neber hear de banjo play again.^^


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: Joe Offer
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 12:30 PM

Interesting song, Jude. Where'd you find it?
-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: JudeL
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 12:36 PM

someone sang it at Buntingford who said he'd found it in the congress archives website


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: masato sakurai
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 12:41 PM

Info (from Music for the Nation: American Sheet Music) on the 1882 sheet music is different as to the title, the writer and the date.

We'll neber hear de banjo play again / by John T. Rutledge (New York: Pond, Wm. A. & Co., 1882).

~Masato


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: JudeL
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 12:50 PM

don't shoot the messenger


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Subject: Correction: Uncle Ned (Stephen Foster)^^
From: GUEST,Richie
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 04:16 PM

Uncle Ned
Stephen Foster, 1848

Dere was an old darkey, dey called him Uncle Ned,
He's dead long ago, long ago!
He had no wool on de top ob his head,
De place whar de wool ought to grow.

Chorus:Den lay down de shubble and de hoe
Hang up de fiddle and de bow:
|:No more hard work for pool old Ned
He's gone whar de good darkeys go. :|

2. His fingers were long like de can in de brake,
He had no eyes for to see;
He had no teeth for to eat de corncake
So he had to let de corncake be.
Chorus:

3. When Old Ned die Massa take it mighty bad,
De tears run down like de rain;
Old Missus turn pale and she gets berry sad
Cayse she nebber see Old Ned again.

Chorus:^^

Note: Rutledge was probably referring to this Uncle Ned.

-Richie
Note: The version in the Digital Tradition is only a fragment of the Stephen Foster song. These lyrics have been submitted as a correction.
-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: Charley Noble
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 08:07 PM

Looks like we have another case of minstrel song process, of one song provoking or inspiring another. Even when we find sheet music, we can't be entirely sure who should be credited with the composition: the plantation field hand, the plantation owner or guest who wrote something down, the commercial composer (i.e. Stephen Foster), or any number of minstrel singers.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: Joe Offer
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 08:54 PM

Yeah, I wondered about that attribution to John Rutter. The one I'm familiar with is director of the Cambridge Singers, and was born in 1945. I believe he has done some arrangements and recordings of Foster songs. I suppose there could be an earlier John Rutter, but John T. Rutledge seems more credible. Now, was the Rutledge song an infringement of Foster's copyright, or was it more of a sequel?
I've also wondered the same thing Charley's thinking - were Foster's songs original, or did he adapt them from songs sung by slaves?
-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 09:06 PM

"someone sang it at Buntingford " - he said it was his wife's favourite song. At least the title was...


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again
From: masato sakurai
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 09:19 PM

There's another "Uncle Ned", who also played the fiddle instead of the banjo. From the Levy collection (links to pages 3-4 are broken):

Title: Uncle Ned. The Popular Negro Ballad.
Composer, Lyricist, Arranger: na
Publication: London: J. Williams, 123 Cheapside Corner of Wood St., n.d..
Form of Composition: strophic with chorus
Instrumentation: piano and voice (solo and satb chorus)
First Line: I once knew a Nigger, his name was Uncle Ned
First Line of Chorus: hang up the shovel and the hoe, the hoe, Lay down his fiddle and his bow

~Masato


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Subject: ADD: Onkel Ned (Uncle Ned) (Stephen C. Foster)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 03 Nov 02 - 09:29 PM

Masato - I saw that "Uncle Ned" at Levy, too. I think it's just the Foster song, without attribution, translated into not-so-thick dialect.

There's an interesting commentary on "Uncle Ned" in A Treasury of Stephen Foster (Random House, 1946):
    "The Knights of the S.T." (a small social group that met in Foster's home) liked "Lou'siana Belle" so much that Stephen was encouraged to write another song for the next meeting. He came with the manuscript in his pocket, put it on the piano and invited his friends to sing with him Old Uncle Ned.
    This was one of the group of songs, along with "Oh! Susanna," which Stephen gave to W. C. Peters, either for $100 for the lot or as an outright present, and which Peters published and copyrighted from his Louisville establishment on December 30, 1848.
    Its popularity was never as great as that of "Oh! Susanna," yet it became a wide favorite. From the drawing rooms of Cincinnati, it spread to the concert halls of the city and then, inevitably, to the current minstrel shows.
    It is said that the descriptive line of the poem: "his fingers were long like the cane in the brake," was so vivid and picturesque that Southerners would not believe that the verses were written by a Northerner who had never seen a cane brake. In 1852 an anonymous writer remarked in a periodical of the time, Albany State Register:
    There is something in the melodious "Uncle Ned" that goes directly to the heart, and makes Italian trills seem tame. As for poor "Uncle Ned," so sadly denuded of his wool, God bless that fine old colored gentleman, who, we have been assured so often, has "gone where the good darkies go."
    Foster's songs became known throughout the world soon after they were published in America, and they were translated into many languages. In Leipzig the firm of Max Brockhaus issued a series of "Negerlieder" which included Old Folks at Home ("Heimweh"), My Old Kentucky Home ("Leb' wohl, Kentucky-Land"), O! Susanna, and Old Uncle Ned ("Onkel
    Ned").

    ONKEL NED
    (Stephen C. Foster)

    1. War einst em alter Neger, Genannt der Onkel Ned,
    Dass er starb, das ist lange schon her,
    Mit Freuden sagte der Welt er Valet,
    Denn der Ruhe bedurfte er sehr.
    Legt drum die Spaten aus der Hand!
      CHORUS: Hängt eure Fiedeln an die Wand!
      Denkt zurück an den alten Ned,
      Der langst seine Ruhe schon fand!
      Denkt zurück an den alten Ned,
      Der langst seine Ruhe schon fand.

    2. Der Alte Ned hatte kein Haar auf dem Kopf,
    Seine Wolle, die fehite ihm sehr,
    Es hatt' keine Zähne der arme alte Tropf
    Und das Beissen, das fiel ihm drum schwer.
    Legt eure Spaten aus der Hand:
    CHORUS

    3. Der Tod Onkel Neds der bereitete Schmerz
    Seinem Herrn, denn er trauerte tief.
    Seiner Herrin ging's wie em Stich durch das Herz,
    Aus den Augen manch' Thränlein ihr lief.
    Legt drum die Spaten aus der fland!
    CHORUS


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: I'll never play the banjo again/Uncle Ned
From: GUEST,ukulelegrrl@yahoo.com
Date: 25 Jun 06 - 05:14 PM

This was a lullaby from my childhood and I do remember a line about Rosealee who was killed by the boog-a-man... but I can not find that lyric anywhere.-Lian Cheramie, Louisiana.


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Subject: Lyr Add: WE'LL NEBER HEAR DE BANJO PLAY AGAIN
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 29 Jun 06 - 01:13 AM

Here's my transcription from The Library of Congress American Memory Collection.

WE'LL NEBER HEAR DE BANJO PLAY AGAIN
John T Rutledge, 1882

1. Dat good ole soul, ole Uncle Ned, am layin in his grave.
De banjo now hangs silent by de door.
We miss de songs at ebnen dat we used to fondly crave,
But we'll neber hear him sing dem any more.
He used to play an sing so sweet when daylight went away,
An we neber dreamed ob sorrow or ob pain.
It always made us happy for to hear de banjo play,
But we'll neber hear de banjo play again.

CHORUS: Oh! peaceful may he slumber while de angels watch above,
For he am free from sorrow an from pain.
Oh, gone is all de music an de songs we use to love,
And we'll neber hear de banjo play again.

2. Down in de cotton fields we works de long an lonely hours
While sadness seems to linger ebrywhere.
De birds of song we use to hear no more sing in de flowers,
An waste deir sweetness on de desert air,
Becase dey sung for Uncle Ned an he would sing for dem
Around his little cabin in de lane,
But now he's gone. De rose am dead an fallen from its stem,
An we'll neber hear de banjo play again.


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