I'll never know
I'm listening to this recording of a late concert by the New Lost City Ramblers. There's a little raucous song called "Brown Skin Gal" and the commentary goes sort of lkike this: "You tell them about this song, Mike, because I don't understand it." And Mike Seeger says he doesn't know anythiung about it either except he got it off a man in California. And there's some banter about how old the song is or isn't, and whether it's a commercial recording. Mike says he believes it was recorded around 1950, and he says he believes the man he got the song from paid quite a bit for it. Which means he got the song from a record collector.
Mike Seeger and John Cohen both came to our house in the mid-late 50s to trade records with my father. Mike Seeger';s dead, my father's dead, and as far as I know the other record collectors in that circuit are all dead, so I'll never know whether "the man in California" that Mike Seeger got the song from was my father. It could have been Harry Smith, for that matter. He's dead too. Or it could have been this other fellow, a dealer mainly in discographies, who would show up at our house with his suitcase full of obscure treasures he was certain that everyone wanted to steal from him, yes he was bedbug-level crazy, but he also knew all the personnel and every date for a vast library of 78 rpm records he kept in his head. I can't remember his actual name, but my mother called him Joe Btfsplk after the "Lil Abner" character who brought his own private raincloud with him everywhere he went, because he always had stories of losing his precious papers in his travels. I can't swear to it, but though I know he had a car at least sometimes I have the impression he rode the blinds sometimes too.
By the way, as far as I can tell the vocals "Brown Skin Gal" consist mainly of appreciative whoops. Lately when I listen to old songs I'm braced for some terrible, terrible stuff in the words, so it's a relief whenever a song doesn't have a bomb in it. Especially a song that refers to race in the name!
oh, Happy New Year, too. the neighbors are setting off fireworks, naturally. They did it at ten o'clock too. Warm up or homage to a midwestern hometown? I'll never know.
Mike Seeger and John Cohen both came to our house in the mid-late 50s to trade records with my father. Mike Seeger';s dead, my father's dead, and as far as I know the other record collectors in that circuit are all dead, so I'll never know whether "the man in California" that Mike Seeger got the song from was my father. It could have been Harry Smith, for that matter. He's dead too. Or it could have been this other fellow, a dealer mainly in discographies, who would show up at our house with his suitcase full of obscure treasures he was certain that everyone wanted to steal from him, yes he was bedbug-level crazy, but he also knew all the personnel and every date for a vast library of 78 rpm records he kept in his head. I can't remember his actual name, but my mother called him Joe Btfsplk after the "Lil Abner" character who brought his own private raincloud with him everywhere he went, because he always had stories of losing his precious papers in his travels. I can't swear to it, but though I know he had a car at least sometimes I have the impression he rode the blinds sometimes too.
By the way, as far as I can tell the vocals "Brown Skin Gal" consist mainly of appreciative whoops. Lately when I listen to old songs I'm braced for some terrible, terrible stuff in the words, so it's a relief whenever a song doesn't have a bomb in it. Especially a song that refers to race in the name!
oh, Happy New Year, too. the neighbors are setting off fireworks, naturally. They did it at ten o'clock too. Warm up or homage to a midwestern hometown? I'll never know.