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Week In Review: A Heartbeat and a Guitar
Protest music seems to ebb and flow in the U.S.--fading in and out depending on the political circumstances. The 60s were a high point, with Bob Dylan and the folk scene, as well as lesser-known songwriters like Peter La Farge, making music about the most important issues of the day.
In his new book, A Heartbeat and a Guitar: Johnny Cash and the Making of Bitter Tears, Antonino D'Ambrosio connects Johnny Cash to the 60s protest music scene. At the peak of his fame, just after "Ring of Fire," Cash cut a record of songs about the Native American experience, many written by La Farge.
D'Ambrosio joined us in the GRITtv studio to talk about the history of protest music, the myth of Johnny Cash, and why music is one of the best ways to carry a progressive message. Then, in a special performance, he was joined by Anthony Roman and David Milone of the band Radio 4 to perform Cash's song "Apache Tears" live.
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For information on GRIT magazine, go to www.grit.com.
Here’s my favorite. It tells the tale of young man who gets myth-jacked to war.
BALLAD OF IRA HAYES
I-ra Hayes, I-ra Hayes,
Call him drunken Ira Hayes,
He won’t answer anymore.
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian,
Nor the Marine that went to war.
Gather round me people, there’s a story I would tell,
About a brave young Indian you should remember well.
From the land of the Pima Indian, a proud and noble band,
Who farmed the Phoenix Valley in Arizona Land.
Down the ditches for a thousand years, the water grew Ira’s peoples’ crops,
‘Till the white man stole the water rights, and the sparklin’ water stopped.
Now Ira’s folks were hungry, and their land grew crops of weeds,
When war came, Ira volunteered, and forgot the white man’s greed.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes,
He won’t answer anymore.
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian,
Nor the Marine that went to war.
There they battled up Iwo Jima’s hill, two hundred and fifty men,
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again.
And when the fight was over, and when Old Glory raised,
Among the men who held it high was the Indian, Ira Hayes.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes,
He won’t answer anymore.
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian,
Nor the Marine that went to war.
Ira returned a hero, celebrated through the land,
He was wined and speeched and honored; Everybody shook his hand.
But he was just a Pima Indian, no water, no home, no chance,
At home nobody cared what Ira’d done; And when did the Indians dance?
Call him drunken Ira Hayes,
He won’t answer anymore.
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian,
Nor the Marine that went to war.
Then Ira started drinkin’ hard; jail was often his home,
They’d let him raise the flag and lower it, like you’d throw a dog a bone!
He died drunk early one mornin’, alone in the land he fought to save,
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch, was a grave for Ira Hayes.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes,
He won’t answer anymore.
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian,
Nor the Marine that went to war.
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes,
But his land is just as dry.
And his ghost is lyin’ thirsty,
In the ditch where Ira died.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note that the song will begin play automatically. Pay close attention to Cash’s voice as he sings those last few lines.
http://deehits.homestead.com/irahayes.html
By knowbuddhau on November 22nd, 2009 at 10:51 pm
A very penetrating song–I remember this song from his greatest hits album which I’ve had for years. However, I didn’t know about the album “Bitter Tears.” After watching this interview with Antonino D’Ambrosio, I went down to recycled records and bought one of the old original vinyls of “Bitter Tears” and listned to it. What an awsome album! I thought the song “white Girl” deserves some attention as well.
I am stunned and I am broken and my head is in my hand
For she who said she love me will not wed an Indian man
My Gods who were wild ridden stand quiet by my side
For although I loved her she would not be my bride
Oh goodbye softly sweet one it was splended while it ran
Goodbye my bitter white girl I’ll forget you if I can
She came up to the pueblo with her bright blonde hair
They told me not to love her but I did not care
She took me to her parties she carried me around
And I was a proud one the tallest man in town
For I found great wonder all wrapped in brilliant dreams
I held her strong but gentle as kings have held their queens
I learned to drink strong whiskey as she took me here and there
Until life without my whiskey I could not bear
Oh goodbye softly sweet one…
[ guitar ]
Well when she came to leave me she took me by the arm
And she said she loved me and would not do me harm
But she would not marry not an Indian she said
She thanked me for my offer and I wished that I was dead
Now I’m back among my people and they are kind to me
Although I’m sad with staggers when I drink that tough whiskey
For I’ve been a white girl’s pet a captive Indian
Shown off and discarded just a drunk who might have been
Oh goodbye softly sweet one…
Goodbye softly sweet one…
By gordsd on November 24th, 2009 at 7:06 am