Showing posts with label Jesse Winchester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesse Winchester. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

An Emotional Spectacle




If you love songwriters, then you're undoubtedly pleased to know that Elvis Costello's Spectacle has been renewed and is currently airing On Demand and on the Sundance Channel. Last season had some wonderful moments--most memorable for me were his interviews with Tony Bennett and Rufus Wainwright.

This season is two episodes in (of 7), and already it's hit a peak for me. It occurred in a songwriter's showcase featuring Sheryl Crow, Neko Case, Ron Sexsmith, and Jesse Winchester.

I have loved Jesse Winchester since his debut album in 1970. Costello referred to that release as being equal in stature and achievement to other great albums of the time, such as James Taylor's Sweet Baby James and Neil Young's After the Gold Rush. Ah, Elvis! That statement alone endeared you to me (along with last season's confession that he is a monstrous Bing Crosby fan).

He asked Jesse what went into his decision to flee to Canada to avoid the draft at that time. Jesse admitted that it was a decision made by a young man and, if he had to make it now, he would at least give it deeper thought. Then it was on to the music.

Ron Sexsmith, a round-faced mopheaded Canadian, played "Secret Heart", a song of his that he said resignedly many people confuse as being written by Feist (since she had the hit with it--ah, the damned obscurity of the true talent!). Lovely song, delivered with Sexsmith's signature sweet tenor. (Later he was to duet with Elvis on "Everyday I Write the Book", a song the latter thanked Sexsmith for reviving his interest in.)

Sheryl Crow was seated next to Sexsmith. She was all teeth and bare arms. Don't get me wrong--I think she looks fabulous, and I do enjoy her music. It just doesn't stick in my ear, and the one time that I heard her live I was singularly unimpressed at her stagecraft. (Standing stone still through most of the show and not interacting much with the audience will not win this coffeehouse/nightclub frequenter's affections.) She sang "If It Makes You Happy". I enjoyed her admitting before singing that it's often the songs you like the least as a songwriter that turn out to be the hits!

Neko Case, the youngest songwriter among the five in the circle, was next. She won me over immediately by discussing her deep love of Harry Nilsson. She followed by singing "Don't Forget Me", a lovely ballad that features his strange and bewitching mixture of sweetness and sarcasm.

Then Jesse Winchester was up. Clearly the elder in this group, he was re-introduced by Costello, who mentioned how he was a big fan and adored Winchester's new release, Love's Filling Station. Jesse followed by playing "Sham-A-Ling-Dong-Dong" from that CD. The title refers to a song that lovers recall from their youth.

When we danced was not a dance but more a long embrace
We held on to each other and we floated there in space
and I was shy to kiss you while the whole wide world could see
So "Sham-a-Ling" said everything for me

And all the poor old folks they thought that we'd lost our minds
They could not make heads or tails of the young folks' funny rhymes
But you and I knew all the words and we always sang along
to old "Sham-a-Ling-Dong-Ding, Sham-a-Ling-Dang-Dong"

One of the wonderful things about Spectacle is, well, the spectacle of watching people--especially songwriters--listen. I love how they hunch over their guitars, letting the lyrics pour in and move them. To me, it's as intimate as television can be and with Jesse Winchester, who sings sweetly of kisses and faded youth, that is very intimate indeed.

A close-up caught Neko Case crying while listening to the song, and that sight triggered tears immediately in me. (They come easily--not just because of my faded youth, but my perpetual sleep-deprivation!)

Anyway, Jesse's song proceeds to cover the long course of his subjects' love, and how he bets that the old folks had their own "Sham-a-Ling" moment in their youth. Then he ends by summarizing the sentiment.

All those sweet old love songs
oh, every word rings true
"Sham-a-Ling-Dong-Ding" means "sweetheart"
"Sham-a-Ling-Dang-Dong" does too
It means that right here in my arms
well, that's where you belong
and it means "Sham-a-ling-dong-ding,
Sham-a-ling-dang-dong"


It's a remarkable song from an album that merits wide attention. I hope that Costello's support of Jesse Winchester brings it.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Looking Back at Jesse Winchester



Jesse Winchester is one of my favorite singer-songwriters. He emerged in the early '70s and quickly grabbed listeners' attention with the song"The Brand New Tennessee Waltz" on his eponymous debut. Jesse had a compelling backstory too, having relocated from Memphis to Montreal to avoid the draft. Deeply respected by many singers and musicians, his songs have been well-covered.

His first album was produced by Robbie Robertson of the Band and engineered by Todd Rundgren, who got Winchester signed with Bearsville Records for the brunt of his output in the 1970s. His released one jewel after another. Third Down, 110 to Go in 1972 (featuring "Isn't That So?" a driving spiritual); Learn to Love It in 1974 (memorable for "Mississippi, You're On My Mind", gospel-inflected numbers like "Wake Me" and "I Can't Stand Up Alone" as well as the terrific traditional song, "Tell Me Why You Like Roosevelt"); Let the Rough Side Drag in 1976; Nothing But a Breeze in 1977 (with the lovely "Bowling Green", "My Songbird", "You Remember Me" as well as the funny "Twigs and Seeds" and "Rhumba Man"); A Touch on the Rainy Side in 1978 (besides the title song, I also recommend "Little Glass of Wine"); and finally, his last release on Bearsville, 1981's Talk Memphis.

He himself never gained much notoriety. Perhaps that was due to the fact that he didn't start touring the States until 1977. By that time he had a wonderful catalog to draw upon but unfortunately musical styles had changed radically. He continued to record regularly until 1981.

I heard him a concert a couple of times when I lived in Chicago. The first time, at a bar directly across from Wrigley Field (the Cubby Bear), I chatted with him before he went on stage. I recall asking him what he preferred: performing or writing songs. Jesse told me that if he had his druthers he'd rather just be a songwriter, and mail his stuff out for others to record. It seemed to fit with his personality: he comes across as a shy guy.

I recall seeing him one more time in Chicago at a folk club called Holstein's. There wasn't much of a crowd for him that night, and I got the distinct sense that the management was taking a financial bath on his appearance. I felt bad for Jesse, because I admire him so much and think he deserves to be known more wide.

Anyway, the '80s and the '90s saw only one release each decade. They were fabulous--you can expect nothing but perfection from him. (Check out the lovely "I Don't Think You Love Me Anymore" from 1988's Humor Me.)Over the last decade he's released two albums, and he promoted his latest, Love's Filling Station, recently on NPR.

In the interview, he described himself as a "traditional" songwriter. That's absolutely true: his songs fit the classic verse-chorus structure that's found in most pop music. His roots are folk, but his sound can be gospel and country and rhythm and blues flavored. Jesse has a sweet soft high-timbred voice and his lyrics are impeccable. He has an intensely personal style: he does talk about himself in his songs, often self-deprecatingly, but he displays an almost Old World respect for women and he paints stories of small towns that seem to arise from his Southern youth.

I hope that you'll introduce yourself to Jesse Winchester. He'll win your affection quickly.