A Reminiscence of Music Past

Music is a balm for many people, especially in our current Covid-imposed lockdown.  I find myself taking advantage of the newer streaming technology to connect with music that I have not heard, in some cases, for decades, in other cases, songs I go back to every now and then.  Today, I was reminded of some the “origin story” of my love of folky-style music and Americana.

 

Covid took the life of singer-songwriter John Prine the other day, and while I know I had heard of him before, I could not recall hearing his music, despite the ebbulent praise heaped on his talents by a bevy of musicians whom I enjoy.

 

So tonight, I called up my favorite streaming service, and said “Hey, Google. Play John Prine.”  And out of my Google speaker came pure folksy Americana! Some of his music I am now sure that I had heard before, most likely played as covers by others; and listening to Prine’s songs got me thinking about other musicians whom I enjoy playing that style.  I pulled up my Google music account on my phone (see, I mentioned the newer tech for finding music!) and searched my music library and settled on some old songs I first discovered decades ago (yes, I am showing my age).

 

First up was “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman.  I remember when I discovered this song on the radio in 1988.  I was working as a substitute teacher during the school year, and part-time on the night shift at the local 7-11 store in the summer (and on weekend nights, when the school year fired up again).  I probably first heard Chapman’s song on the radio as I mopped the floor in the wee hours at that store (I know that is where I first heard Guns and Roses and the Travelling Wilburys), and when I heard that my all-time favorite, Bob Dylan, would be playing at the new amphitheater at George, Washington (The Gorge at George), and Tracy Chapman as his opening act, I knew I had to go.  

 

The concert was on August 20, 1988 (yes, I had to look up the actual date), and I and my brother drove in my old brown Chevy Cavalier hatchback to Eastern Washington to catch the show.  The amphitheater was attached to a winery, and, of all things, they were selling wine at the show! We did not really know what to expect, since this was pre-internet, and you could not just look up details on the venue like you can today; so when we got there, we ended up sitting on a couple rocks (this was a ‘natural’ outdoor amphitheater).  Dust was everywhere, floating, sitting, wafting in the breeze. Did I mention that this part of east-central Washington is known for being both dry and windy? In front of us were multitudes of old people, or so it seemed, as my brother and I were among the youngest in attendance based on our somewhat biased and youthful observations (I was 23, and he would have been about 19 at that time).

 

Now, keep in mind the time period here.  The late 80s, prime Reagan-Bush years, and most hippy types from the 60s were now in their 40s or early 50s, plus a few years before, Dylan had toured with the Grateful Dead, so it seemed as if every other person we saw wore tye-dyed Dead regalia.  Thinking back, I am pretty sure I was wearing a polo shirt and jeans, which was my interpretation of concert casual.

 

Past the tye-dyed, greying fans with wine bottles and joints in hand, we saw a large metallic structure festooned with huge speakers, and behind that edifice, we then saw the mighty Columbia River, and the cliffs of the gorge.  I wonder if Dylan himself looked upon this powerful river with thoughts of his idol, Woody Guthrie in mind. That folksy troubador of Depression-Era America had at one time been hired by the Federal government to write songs about the Columbia and the large construction projects then under development.  One of those Guthrie songs is titled “Roll on Columbia,” and I would like to think Dylan played it at this show, with the Columbia River rolling on behind him, but he did not. Yes, I had to look that up also. Oh well, so much for what might have been.  Sidenote: As it turns out, this show was part of the first few months of Dylan’s so-called “Never-Ending Tour,” which began in June, 1988.  Dylan himself said the NET ended in 1991, when G.E. Smith left his band, but the Never-Ending moniker has stuck to his habit of constant touring.

 

The show began with Tracy Chapman and her band taking the stage for a short set, and I do recall “Fast Car,” and “Talkin’ ‘bout a Revolution.”  She played well, and I enjoyed her music, and, while I cannot recall her last song, she ended it literally as the sun set over the gorge right behind her.  Beautiful sight, and beautiful timing!

After a break, Bob Dylan and his crack band took the stage.  His guitarist was the excellent GE Smith, best known as the guitarist in the Saturday Night Live band back then, and, from our dusty outcropping of rock, we listened to Dylan and his electric folk energize us and the old hippies around us.  

 

I’ve seen Dylan three times in total: At the Tacoma Dome in Tacoma, Washington on July 31, 1986 when he toured with Tom Petty; at the Gorge at George in 1988; and then again in the mid-1990s at the Paramount Theater in Seattle.  

 

I never saw Tracy Chapman perform live again, though, through the magic of Google’s Music account, I can call up her more modern music and give it a listen, just as I did with the John Prine songs.  This musical memoir was originally going to just look at the bevy of songs I listened to after the John Prine tunes, but then I got to remembering Tracy Chapman and Bob Dylan. For the record (are you old enough to see that pun?)  after listening to Prine and Chapman, my random song selection then took me to the Rolling Stones “Salt of the Earth,” U2’s “Van Dieman’s Land” (with Edge at vocals), and several Woodie Guthrie tunes, including “Roll on Columbia,” and Tom Joad Pt. 1 and Pt. 2.

 

Music is an important part of dealing with our currently crazy world, and I find solace in music’s embrace.