for a song called mr. tambourine man, the guitar wont shut the fuck up.
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Sharon Tate photographed at Heathrow Airport on July 23rd, 1966 with a Bob Dylan tote bag promoting his then-upcoming poetry book, Tarantula
(via simplysharontate on instagram)
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Today's compilation:
Baby Boomer Classics: Folk Sixties
1985
Folk
Alright, folks, it looks like we have a pretty bad one here today with this small collection of folk fare from the 60s. Basically, outside of one song, which I'll get to a little later, this LP from the otherwise largely good and broadly eclectic Baby Boomer Classics series is definitely not worth your time. And I'm certainly no hater of folk music from this era in general—although I could live without hearing "This Land Is Your Land" or "Little Boxes" ever again—but there is one predominant strain of 60s folk that I happen to absolutely loathe. And it's that stuff that was so freaking over-the-top hippy-dippy-happy that you'd think the bands that were performing it were countercultural bizarro versions of The Stepford Wives or something, but for music. Their dispositions were simply too sunny, their smiling was too excessive, and at the end of the day, you get the feeling that the people that were making this stuff had actually been indoctrinated into some kind of creepy new age cult 😵.
But this stuff really played, man. For example, a totally excruciating song on here that exemplifies this mind-numbing style of 60s folk is "Don't Let the Rain Come Down (Crooked Little Man)," by a group whose name alone is too on the nose for you to believe that they actually existed: The Serendipity Singers 😩. Now, it's one thing for this awful song to exist in some little, whimsical, Bohemian niche as a piece of forgotten ephemera, but this thing was actually a top-ten hit in the US, and it also landed a Grammy nom too! And listening to it is so uncomfortable that it makes me want to tear my hair out!!!
But now, on to the only tune on this comp that I thoroughly enjoyed listening to: "There but for Fortune," by the legendary Joan Baez. With a lovely vibrato appended to the end of most lines, and a pretty acoustic guitar melody to match, this intimate and heartfelt song sends a basic and universal message that could always use more hearing, especially in turbulent times such as these; and it's to have empathy and not ridicule or judge others, because 'there but for fortune,' it could very well be you who was born into a circumstance that'd leave you currently sitting in a prison cell, homeless, suffering from addiction, or having your home bombed. This song was originally written in 1963 by another folk legend, Phil Ochs, but Baez' version from '64 proved the most popular, reaching #50 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and earning itself a Grammy nom for Best Folk Recording. And clearly, it's still very much relevant to this day.
But other than that one song, this album unfortunately just sucks. Stuff is either insufferable like that Srendipity Singers tune, overplayed, or just comparably lackluster when put up against 60s folk juggernauts like Joan Baez herself. I've been slowly sifting through this Baby Boomer Classics series over the past month and change with few criticisms to levy, but this is by far the worst thing I've heard from it so far. And even though I don't write much about folk music from this golden era of revivalism in particular, a comp like Warner's Storytellers: Singers & Songwriters from 1987, which has the likes of Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Arlo Guthrie, John Prine, Phil Ochs, and others on it, serves much better than this record that pulls from a similar time period.
Highlights:
Joan Baez - "There but for Fortune"
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