A familiar story to many of us with a few years behind us. Brings to mind a bumper sticker that says, “The Suburbs: where they tear out all the trees and name streets after them”
Lyrics:
Everybody wants a piece of paradise/A house up on the hill with a view of heaven/Now everyone’s here so close together/Paradise is lost and gone forever
Chorus: When we were young we used to walk out in those fields/And run forever in the backyard woods/Now the old trails disappear in neighborhoods/With streets named after what’s gone for good
The hills above town used to be the best place/For starry eyed lovers and inspration/Now it’s all paved Every street’s a dead end/And empty summer houses stand all along them
(Chorus)
Now there’s no trespassing/There’s no going back again/I only hope you remember/The way it was, what we had back then
(Chorus)
Everybody wants a piece of paradise/A house up on the hill with a view of heaven
When asked “Do you like country music?” I almost always answer no, because I assume the question means “Do you like flag-waving, beer-chugging, chew-spittin’ anthems to ‘bein’ country’?” “No” is a simple answer for people who seem to like things simple. But it’s a little more complicated than that of course. So I’ll explain further, because I assume if you make a habit of reading what’s written here you won’t mind the longer answer.
I like: Rockabilly, Old Time Country & Western (with the “western”, please), the “Countrypolitan” sounds of the Glen Campbell/Charlie Rich 1970’s, the “new Bakersfield sound” Dwight Yoakam first proffered in the 80’s, the smooth country/adult contemporary sound of Restless Heart, the voice of Patty Loveless, the acerbic wit of Lyle Lovett (first three albums especially), the songwriting genius of k.d. lang and Steve Earle, the put-on hillbilly shtick of Southern Culture On The Skids, Country Rock, Roger Miller, Johnny Cash (when he wasn’t pandering to twenty-somethings to stay “relevant”), Rosanne Cash, any great songwriting that happens to be country music, Elvis Costello’s country album, Neil Young’s pseudo-country albums, the Jayhawks, the sound of lap steel, and Robbie Fulks.
Notice nowhere did I mention Taylor Swift–not because I have anything against her. She just isn’t singing to me. But at least she isn’t making a living writing songs about how “country” she is. The two types of music I disdain most are country that’s about “being country” and rock that’s about “rockin'”.
Aaanyway, I was going to tell you that Robbie Fulks is kind of a hillbilly with a subversive sense of humor. He writes songs like “She Took a Lot of Pills (and Died)” and “Papa Was Steel-Headed Man” and he did an entire album of Michael Jackson covers–pop versions, not country. He’s done an acoustic cover of Cher’s “Believe” and written a song about his infatuation with Susanna Hoffs. So mainstream country he’s not. And that’s good.
Nor is he trying to impress by being “authentically” anything. If he can make a song sound prettier by polishing it up with a little vocal reverb or harmony, he will. He sings like a hillbilly, and he sings about hillbilly stuff (sometimes) but mainly he’s just a songwriter with a hot band backing him (his live record smokes) who just follows his gut from album to album, putting his songs across whatever way seems good at the time.
On this blog’s first-ever post, I took Ben Folds to task a little bit. Hope this makes up for it, and helps illustrate the point I made then. This is a heartrending ballad and a great example of what the man is capable of.
Bill Cosby: “Grover Henson Feels Forgotten” (1970)
“Grover Henson Feels Forgotten”, which charted at #70 in 1970, didn’t appear on any of Bill Cosby’s comedy albums, and would have been sorely out-of-place if it had. With this one he wasn’t going for a laugh, he was trying for tears. It’s a spoken word piece in a musical setting that tells the tale of a lonely soldier. Timely in terms of the Vietnam war, it was also typical of the kind of sentimental (maudlin?) performance the pop charts of the 60’s and 70’s were sprinkled with (see: “Seasons In The Sun”).
Having been released only as a single at the time it’s a fairly rare find today.
My 2011 award for Best Neil Young (or Best young Neil) impersonation goes to this doleful ditty. The Asheville, North Carolina native Ramsey could make a living as a Neil Young tribute act if his own singer-songwriter career doesn’t pan out. And he doesn’t just have the voice, he also has the same relaxed delivery. Doesn’t belt the chorus, just lets the song sing itself, like Neil does on his gentler stuff. Beautiful song.
Every Moment Has A Song 