The Downtown EP

I created a four-song EP consisting of interpretations of songs related to topics we discussed in class. And here it is. It's called The Downtown EP.

My versions utilize some techniques that might have been used by folk singers in the early 1960s New York folk scene, or by an experimental rock band in the late '60s--or by a mash up of the two. The thread that links the tracks into a cohesive EP is the spirit and attitude of 1960s New York, as seen through a 21st century lens.

1. "Frankie" Traditional, based on Mississippi John Hurt's version
2. "This Land is Your Land" by Woody Guthrie
3. "What Goes On" by The Velvet Underground
4. "A Hard Rain's a Gonna Fall" by Bob Dylan

(Washington Square Park photo by Bernice Abbott, 1936)

"Frankie" is a traditional tune of unknown origin that has been covered and reworked by many artists. While its origins may go back as far as 1830 or so (according to John Jacob Niles) ¹ , the best known lyrics are about at least one real life murder that took place at 212 Targee Street in St. Louis, in 1899. Twenty-two-year-old Frankie shot her 17-year-old lover Allen (a.k.a. Albert) in the abdomen after learning that he won a slow-dancing contest with one Nelly Bly (a.k.a. Alice Parker). ² 

Sometimes it's called "Frankie and Johnnie," "Frankie and Albert," or "Frankie's Man." Over 250 recorded versions exist, including by the likes of Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Jimmie Rodgers, Sam Cooke, Louis Armstrong, Lead Belly, Burl Ives, Sammy Davis Jr., Elvis, Dave Van Ronk, and Pete Seeger. Lyrics vary widely, but I will mostly use the same ones that Mississippi John Hurt sang on the Harry Smith Anthology of American Folk Music that inspired so many in the NYC folk scene so deeply. This is likely the version they all knew by heart. According to the Anthology liner notes, it was "probably written by "Mammy Lou," a singer at Babe's Famous Cabaret" in St. Louis. But theories abound.

For fun, I recorded the song in the style of the Velvet Underground, borrowing the rhythm and some of the instrumentation from "I'm Waiting for the Man." Combining familiar, time-tested songs with seemingly unrelated treatments can be a great way to discover new hybrid sounds. The '60s have long been over, but we can still mine the era to create new things using its toolset. I didn't listen to all 250+ existing, but I can be fairly confident none of them sound like this one.

I'm Waiting for the Man, for reference:

Here's Mississippi John Hurt's version from the Harry Smith Anthology:

And here's my VU-esque version:

Lyrics:

Frankie was a good girl, everybody knows, she paid a hundred dollars for Albert's suit of clothes. He's her man, and he done her wrong.

Frankie went down to the corner saloon, didn't gonna be gone long. She peeked through the keyhole in the door, spied Albert in Alice's arm. He's my man, and he done me wrong.

Frankie called Albert, Albert says I don’t hear. If you don’t come to the woman you love I’m gonna haul you out of here. You’re my man, and you done me wrong.

Frankie shot Albert, and she shot him three or four times, says, "Stroll back, I'm smokin' my gun, let me see is Albert dyin'.” He's my man, and he done me wrong.

Frankie and the judge walked down the stand, and walked out side by side. The judge says to Frankie, you're gonna be justified, killin' a man, and he done you wrong.

Dark was the night, cold was on the ground. The last word I heard Frankie say is I’ll lay old Albert down. He’s my man, and he done me wrong.

I aint gonna tell no story, and I ain’t gonna tell no lie. Well Albert passed ‘bout an hour ago You could hear ol’ Alice cry He’s my man, and he done you wrong.

I first learned "This Land is Your Land" in school, right alongside the "Star Spangled Banner" and "God Bless America." It seemed like a corny traditional tune to me, without a composer, just part of the fabric of our country. Hearing it or singing it would have made me blush, because like those other songs, at first listen it seemed like blind patriotism or even propaganda. But just as Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" is not the patriotic song some assume it to be, "This Land is Your Land" is an insightful look at the state of country in Woody's time.

I dove deep into many of Woody's records in my 20s, and read his book, Bound for Glory, and became familiar with his sympathy for workers and unions. I saw his son Arlo perform the song live a few times, sometimes joined by Pete Seeger, and he'd always highlight the edgier verses usually neglected when sung by schoolchildren:

"As I went walking I saw a sign there, And on the sign it said 'No Trespassing.' But on the other side it didn't say nothing. That side was made for you and me."

And...

"In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, By the relief office I seen my people; As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking, 'Is this land made for you and me?'"

According to the Library of Congress, Guthrie wrote "This Land is Your Land" in 1940 in direct response to Irving Berlin's "God Bless America."

"Guthrie heard Berlin's song repeatedly while he traveled cross-country and became increasingly annoyed that it glossed over the lop-sided distribution of land and wealth that he was observing and had experienced as a child. Although Guthrie was no statistician his observations accurately reflected the fact that, even in the depths of the Depression, nearly 20 percent of the nation's wealth rested with one percent of its population."  ^3. 

Fun fact: As of the end of 2021, the top 1% owned a record 32.3% of our nation’s wealth. ^4. 

Here are Woody's original handwritten lyrics, which can be seen on display at the Woody Guthrie Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

My version takes the refrain we all know, but with new verses dealing with current challenges the United States faces, like cultural homogenization, the Capitol insurrection, and mass shootings. To hear it unlocked from the time of its writing will hopefully lend it some poignancy that the original version once had. Sometimes there are examples of end rhymes, internal rhymes, soft rhymes, alliteration, and lyrical derivations from Woody's original sentences.

As we learned in class, writing new words to existing melodies and forms has long been an accepted part of the songwriting tradition. Guthrie wrote "This Land is Your Land" to the melody of the Carter Family's "When The World's On Fire." And the Carter Family had adapted it from a Baptist gospel hymn, "Oh, My Loving Brother."

Two early 1960s examples of this approach we examined were Bob Dylan's "Some to Woody," which used Woody's melody for "1913 Massacre," and "A Hard Rain's a Gonna Fall," (coming soon) which reuses the form from the 17th century ballad, "Lord Randall."

Here's the first "demo" version I recorded for the midterm:

And here is a new, full-band version sticking close to the form and feel of that demo.

Lyrics:

This land is your land. This land is my land. From California to the New York island. From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters. This land is made for you and me.

As I went walking, down in the Bowery, I saw a sign there that said Chipotle; Starbucks, and Subway; and John Varvatos. This land was made for you and me.

We work from home now, on our computers, and tell our kids “Hide from the active shooters.” It’s just another duck and cover. This land was made for them and me.

Qanon shamans in capitol chambers and MAGA soldiers disguised as neighbors, We might be headed for the new dark ages. Is this land made for them and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me, though cracks are showing, on the freedom highway. Nobody living can make me turn back. This land was made for you and me.

This one is an original Velvet Undergound song. With nonsense lyrics, and only four chords, it’s a suitable vehicle for finding and exploring a vibe, experimenting with sounds, and improvising. The studio version of the song starts as though it's already been in motion, and ends with a fade out, giving the impression that it's infinitely long and we are only hearing a portion of it. For my version, I faded in the beginning and faded out the end, to echo this. A keyboard pad begins in the second verse and continues for the rest of the song. The album version has two fuzzed-out guitars soloing at once, in a way that sort of clashes, so my version also has two guitars in the solo playing the main phrase, but slightly differently and intentionally not in sync.

Here's the Velvet's studio version from their self-titled record:

And here's mine:

Lyrics:

What goes on in your mind? I think that I am falling down. What goes on in your mind? I think that I am upside down. Lady, be good, and do what you should, you know it'll work out right. Lady, be good, do what you should, you know it'll be alright.

I'm goin' up, and I'm goin' down. I'm gonna fly from side to side. See the bells, up in the sky, Somebody's cut the string in two. Lady, be good, and do what you should, you know it'll work out right. Lady, be good, do what you should, you know it'll be alright.

One minute one, one minute two. One minute up and one minute down. What goes on in your mind? I think that I am falling down. Lady, be good, and do what you should, you know it'll work out right. Lady, be good, do what you should, you know it'll be alright.

I attempted to deliver "A Hard Rain's a Gonna Fall" in as straight a manner as possible from the studio version on Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, but without vocal imitation, and with added and dropped measures in different places to echo the spirit of Dylan's approach, while not attempting to be an exact replica of it. I find that the added and dropped measures are what keeps it interesting to the listener, pushing and pulling the song ahead or behind.

This six-minute+ song is surprisingly difficult to make it all the way through while keeping the momentum up, maintaining the tempo, and getting the words out correctly. The tuning is in drop D form (standard tuning, but with the lowest string dropped from E to D), with a capo on the fourth fret to raise the key to accommodate my vocal range. The dropped low string provides a drone throughout most of the song that adds a hypnotizing effect.

Written during the Cuban Missile Crisis, Hard Rain wasn't intended to refer to nuclear fallout in particular, but it was certainly a snapshot of that time in history.

"I wrote that when I didn't figure I'd have enough time left in life, didn't know how many other songs I could write, during the Cuban thing," Dylan said. "I wanted to get the most down that I knew about into one song, the most that I possible could, and I wrote it like that. Every line in that actually is a complete song, could be used as a whole song. It's worth a song, every single line. Because I was a little worried... It's not atomic rain, though. Some people think that. It's just hard rain, not the fallout rain, it isn't that at all. The hard rain that's gonna fall is in the last verse, where I say the 'pellets of poison are flooding our waters," I mean all the lies that people are told on their radios and in the newspapers, trying to take people's brains away, all the lies I consider poison." ^5. 

While Dylan has suggested that he wrote the song in Chip Monck's basement apartment at the bottom of the Village Gate, others, including Tom Paxton, recall it being written in a "a little apartment that the Gaslight rented or owned... [a] kind of a storage room." A regular crew of Gaslight performers used to play poker there: John Hammond Jr., Hugh Romney, Tom Paxton, Noel Stookey, Artie Kornfeld, Dave Van Ronk, and Dylan.

"Hanging out with fellow folkies until lightning struck, when it did he would throw in his hand, get up, move over to where Hugh Romney had left his portable typewriter, and begin tapping away, seemingly oblivious to any hubbub around him," said Kornfeld. ^6. 

During my own interview with Romney in 2012, he informed me of the fate of said typewriter.

“We had a room up above the Gaslight. We also had other places that we lived at, slept at and stuff — this was a hang place. When he first came into the Gaslight, he was wearing Woodie Guthrie’s underwear. Well of course you know that, you saw the movie. It was all true. ‘A Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall’ was written on my typewriter there. Bruce Springsteen said, 'You still got that typewriter?’ [imitated in his best, husky-sounding Bruce voice]. But it was actually burned up, along with Lenny Bruce’s couch. Stuff comes, stuff goes. This is the way of stuff. You’ve got to roll with it.”

Here's Bob playing "Hard Rain" not long after its genesis, in 1963,

And here's my attempt at playing it straight through "honestly" with no edits. I was considering rerecording this too, but decided I was content with this version from the midterm, raw and imperfect though it may be. There's a certain urgency to it that I like, and in the context of the EP, it's nice to deviate from the full band after three songs. (Also, I ran out of time!)

Lyrics:

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son? Oh, where have you been, my darling young one? I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains. I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways. I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests. I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans. I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard. And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard. And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what did you see, my darling young one? I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it. I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it. I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’. I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’. I saw a white ladder all covered with water. I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken. I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children. And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard. And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son? And what did you hear, my darling young one? I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’. Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world. Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’. Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’. Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’. Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter. Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley. And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard. And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son? Who did you meet, my darling young one? I met a young child beside a dead pony. I met a white man who walked a black dog. I met a young woman whose body was burning. I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow. I met one man who was wounded in love. I met another man who was wounded with hatred. And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard. It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one? I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’. I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest. Where the people are many and their hands are all empty. Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters. Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison. Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden. Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten. Where black is the color, where none is the number. And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it. And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it. Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’. But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’. And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard. It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall