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| Cover of Clarence Carter |
Tough times have been
the fuel for some of the finest numbers in the Great American Songbook.
Some have been written to soothe, others to provoke, and still more to
simply connect. With the Great Recession stubbornly refusing to end as
2012 jolts along, it’s a good time to revisit some of the best
down-and-out numbers ever written in their definitive versions. Here are
10 enduring classics about surviving lean years:
“Patches,” Clarence Carter
This 1970 hit for Southern soul-blues legend Clarence Carter may be the essential song about growing up a poor African-American boy in the post-War rural South. The tune wasn’t written by Carter, yet he sells it as autobiography and the opening line “I was born in raised in Alabama” is accurate for the singer-guitarist. Spanning a father’s death, doing hard chores before walking to school, and wearing clothes “so raggedy folks used to call me Patches,” Carter hits all the right buttons in this tear-jerker. The reward was a Grammy for Best R&B Song in 1971 for writers Barry Mann and Larry Kobler.
“Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out,” Derek and the Dominos
This tune by Jimmy Cobb first became a hit for queen of the blues Bessie Smith in 1929. It’s been recorded by a who’s who that runs from Count Basie to Lead Belly to Nina Simone to Liza Minnelli to Lucille’s daddy B.B. King. But the definitive modern version belongs to Eric Clapton, who first recorded the number for 1970’s Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. His nuanced performance on guitar and vocals captures the pain, regret and sense of betrayal brimming within the narrator, a good-time Charlie from the roaring ’20s brought to his knees by the Great Depression. Clapton revisited the song more quietly on 1992’s Unplugged.
“Coal Miner’s Daughter,” Loretta Lynn
This purely autobiographical number reached the top of the country charts and became Loretta Lynn’s signature tune in 1969. Eleven years later it provided a springboard for a film about her life that, while spare in details, cemented her status as an American music legend. The song spins the yarn of Lynn’s rural Kentucky raising with poignance and love, and features one of her finest vocal performances.
“Busted,” Ray Charles
This song was written by the great country music tunesmith Harlan Howard and introduced by Johnny Cash in 1962, but a year later Ray Charles put the tune on the pop charts in what’s become the definitive version. The truth is, Charles’ rendition leavens the desperation in Howard’s original lyrics about a family going broke hard in coal country. But the beauty and gentle swing of Charles’ performance on his album Ingredients in a Recipe for Soul make his lyric omissions invisible.
“Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler),” Marvin Gaye
It’s no exaggeration to declare that Gaye had one of the most beautiful and evocative voices in American music, and this tune, from his socially conscious 1971 masterpiece What’s Going On, was a #1 R&B smash and captured pop’s Top 10. Prompted by his brother’s letters from Vietnam and the turmoil poverty and racism were triggering in America’s streets, Gaye was compelled to speak out, and did so with brilliance, sensitivity and anger.
“Aqualung,” Jethro Tull
“Snots running down his nose/Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes,” Ian Anderson’s character Aqualung is no charmer. But softer lyrics about “an old man wandering lonely” make this song far more complex than most listeners consider, weaving in the threads of poverty, mental illness and disenfranchisement that are among the greater issues surrounding homelessness. Of course, with Gibson Les Paul Custom legend Martin Barre bringing it all home with his slashing chords and rippling guitar solos, this title track from Tull’s 1971 masterpiece was destined to become the rock classic that it is.
“Kill the Poor,” Dead Kennedys
DK’s leader Jello Biafra was a brilliant satirist from the band’s inception, and their third single in 1980 is perhaps even more ripe for the times today, as politicians seem to turn their interests away from health, education and other fundamental social interests with ties to empathy. Biafra’s solution for poverty in this biting number involves the neutron bomb, which was making headlines in the beginning of the Reagan years.
“Waitin’ on a Train,” Jimmie Rodgers
The father of country music was two years into his short and brilliant career when he cut this sad hobo’s tale. The song’s lyrics foreshadow the plight of the wandering legions that would be created by the one-two economic gut punch of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, starting just a year later. If you’re interested in the nexus of blues and country music, and the bedrock of the musical movement that’s today dubbed “Americana,” Rodgers’ legacy is ground zero.
“No Woman, No Cry,” Bob Marley
The hardcore poverty of Kingston, Jamaica’s Trenchtown is hard to even conceive of for most people, but Gibson Les Paul Special player Marley’s compelling 1974 song twined the rays of hope and despair in the hard lives of its residents into what’s arguably reggae’s greatest ballad.
“Why I Sing the Blues,” B.B. King
King’s tale of love gone bad is fairly straight forward, but the meat of his message is in the crying, wailing, whinnying lines he coaxes out of Lucille on this 1969, pre-“Thrill is Gone” single. Hearing the sound of King on his guitar during his golden era brings to mind the title of a song from his contemporary, Gibson Flying V legend Albert King: “That’s What the Blues is All About.”
“Patches,” Clarence Carter
This 1970 hit for Southern soul-blues legend Clarence Carter may be the essential song about growing up a poor African-American boy in the post-War rural South. The tune wasn’t written by Carter, yet he sells it as autobiography and the opening line “I was born in raised in Alabama” is accurate for the singer-guitarist. Spanning a father’s death, doing hard chores before walking to school, and wearing clothes “so raggedy folks used to call me Patches,” Carter hits all the right buttons in this tear-jerker. The reward was a Grammy for Best R&B Song in 1971 for writers Barry Mann and Larry Kobler.
“Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out,” Derek and the Dominos
This tune by Jimmy Cobb first became a hit for queen of the blues Bessie Smith in 1929. It’s been recorded by a who’s who that runs from Count Basie to Lead Belly to Nina Simone to Liza Minnelli to Lucille’s daddy B.B. King. But the definitive modern version belongs to Eric Clapton, who first recorded the number for 1970’s Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. His nuanced performance on guitar and vocals captures the pain, regret and sense of betrayal brimming within the narrator, a good-time Charlie from the roaring ’20s brought to his knees by the Great Depression. Clapton revisited the song more quietly on 1992’s Unplugged.
“Coal Miner’s Daughter,” Loretta Lynn
This purely autobiographical number reached the top of the country charts and became Loretta Lynn’s signature tune in 1969. Eleven years later it provided a springboard for a film about her life that, while spare in details, cemented her status as an American music legend. The song spins the yarn of Lynn’s rural Kentucky raising with poignance and love, and features one of her finest vocal performances.
“Busted,” Ray Charles
This song was written by the great country music tunesmith Harlan Howard and introduced by Johnny Cash in 1962, but a year later Ray Charles put the tune on the pop charts in what’s become the definitive version. The truth is, Charles’ rendition leavens the desperation in Howard’s original lyrics about a family going broke hard in coal country. But the beauty and gentle swing of Charles’ performance on his album Ingredients in a Recipe for Soul make his lyric omissions invisible.
“Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler),” Marvin Gaye
It’s no exaggeration to declare that Gaye had one of the most beautiful and evocative voices in American music, and this tune, from his socially conscious 1971 masterpiece What’s Going On, was a #1 R&B smash and captured pop’s Top 10. Prompted by his brother’s letters from Vietnam and the turmoil poverty and racism were triggering in America’s streets, Gaye was compelled to speak out, and did so with brilliance, sensitivity and anger.
“Aqualung,” Jethro Tull
“Snots running down his nose/Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes,” Ian Anderson’s character Aqualung is no charmer. But softer lyrics about “an old man wandering lonely” make this song far more complex than most listeners consider, weaving in the threads of poverty, mental illness and disenfranchisement that are among the greater issues surrounding homelessness. Of course, with Gibson Les Paul Custom legend Martin Barre bringing it all home with his slashing chords and rippling guitar solos, this title track from Tull’s 1971 masterpiece was destined to become the rock classic that it is.
“Kill the Poor,” Dead Kennedys
DK’s leader Jello Biafra was a brilliant satirist from the band’s inception, and their third single in 1980 is perhaps even more ripe for the times today, as politicians seem to turn their interests away from health, education and other fundamental social interests with ties to empathy. Biafra’s solution for poverty in this biting number involves the neutron bomb, which was making headlines in the beginning of the Reagan years.
“Waitin’ on a Train,” Jimmie Rodgers
The father of country music was two years into his short and brilliant career when he cut this sad hobo’s tale. The song’s lyrics foreshadow the plight of the wandering legions that would be created by the one-two economic gut punch of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, starting just a year later. If you’re interested in the nexus of blues and country music, and the bedrock of the musical movement that’s today dubbed “Americana,” Rodgers’ legacy is ground zero.
“No Woman, No Cry,” Bob Marley
The hardcore poverty of Kingston, Jamaica’s Trenchtown is hard to even conceive of for most people, but Gibson Les Paul Special player Marley’s compelling 1974 song twined the rays of hope and despair in the hard lives of its residents into what’s arguably reggae’s greatest ballad.
“Why I Sing the Blues,” B.B. King
King’s tale of love gone bad is fairly straight forward, but the meat of his message is in the crying, wailing, whinnying lines he coaxes out of Lucille on this 1969, pre-“Thrill is Gone” single. Hearing the sound of King on his guitar during his golden era brings to mind the title of a song from his contemporary, Gibson Flying V legend Albert King: “That’s What the Blues is All About.”
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