Podcasts about get rhythm

We end our second season with what can be called Cooder's last classic album: Get Rhythm. As the title suggests, it's all about energy, speed and fun. It presents us with Cooder's very own world music and should have been a real chart breaker. Instead, it was just another solo effort with disappointing commercial results. Its release in 1987 was framed by two tours. We listen in on the famous Santa Cruz show, which spawned several bootlegs and a concert film. And we also uncover some very raw recordings from the '88 European tour.This podcast frequently uses small snippets of musical recordings in podcast episodes for educational, review, and commentary purposes. In all cases, without exception, we believe this is protected by fair use in the U.S., fair dealing in the U.K. and EEA, and similar exceptions in the copyright laws of other nations. No more of the original than necessary is used, and excerpts are edited into long-form narratives, making the use transformative in nature.Written, produced and edited by Frank SchnelleTheme and background music by Chris HaugenAdditional background music The Mini VandalsFollow us on Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok and YouTubeThe Ry Cooder Story WebsiteSupport us on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Cooder was not involved in the original development of John Hiatt's Bring The Family, nor did he act as producer, as he did a year later with Bobby King and Terry Evans. Nevertheless, this album is more significant than most of his previous session work and became something of a blueprint for the next phase of his career after Get Rhythm from the same year. It would be a period in which solo albums would no longer play a role, and film scores would gradually become less influential. Instead, a phase of more personal collaborations began, marked by work with long-time friends and ever new excursions into the realm of world music. Bring The Family was also the starting signal for the band Little Village, which was to be formed five years later.This podcast frequently uses small snippets of musical recordings in podcast episodes for educational, review, and commentary purposes. In all cases, without exception, we believe this is protected by fair use in the U.S., fair dealing in the U.K. and EEA, and similar exceptions in the copyright laws of other nations. No more of the original than necessary is used, and excerpts are edited into long-form narratives, making the use transformative in nature.Written, produced and edited by Frank SchnelleTheme and background music by Chris HaugenAdditional background music The Mini VandalsFollow us on Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok and YouTubeThe Ry Cooder Story WebsiteSupport us on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Join Victoria as she shares from her heart about what it feels like to feel "meh." Take a peek inside her mind as she vulnerably shares her struggles. CONNECT WITH VICTORIA: *NEW RELEASE: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Pickleball Passion A Marriage Devotional: 21 Days to a Stronger Connection on and off the Court ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ https://amzn.to/48wnvaV *⁠⁠⁠CHOOSE 2 THINK DEVOTIONAL⁠:⁠⁠ https://amzn.to/3Hcl7v1 *⁠⁠⁠CHOOSE 2 THINK JOURNAL⁠⁠⁠:  https://amzn.to/3WvinND EMAIL: choose2think@gmail.com ⁠⁠WEBSITE:⁠⁠  www.choose2think.co ⁠⁠MENTORING:⁠⁠ www.choose2think.co/coaching.html ⁠⁠YOUTUBE:⁠⁠ www.youtube.com/channel/UCz8Z2B9TtXvWn0RKelVY5DQ ⁠⁠FACEBOOK:⁠⁠ www.facebook.com/groups/choose2think ⁠⁠INSTAGRAM⁠⁠: www.instagram.com/victoriadwalkerlydon/ *When you click on these Amazon affiliate links, I may earn a teeny commission from qualifying purchases at no extra cost to you. Thank you for your support! DISCLAIMER: The Choose 2 Think Inspirational Podcast is for educational and entertainment purposes only. Please consult your physician or doctor for all medical advice and counsel. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/victoria-d-lydon/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/victoria-d-lydon/support

Bible Study: (2:06) Lk 10:1-12 The Kingdom is near Letters: (23:01) - How to interpret shaking the dust from your shoes? (25:08) - Do Adam and Eve know that they messed it up for all of us? (25:41) - Why did Jesus say greet no one along the way? (26:24) - My wife has dialysis and can't go to first Saturday Mass, what should I do? (30:32) - Did Adam and Eve have immortal bodies? Word of the Day: (34:16) Phones:  (38:19) Michael - Our parish will have a mission statement and the last line says, 'as parishioners we are building the kingdom of God.' What do you think? (40:43) Sharleen - Why all humans pay the price for Adam/Eve sins? (43:00) Steve - Are the Law of God and Law of Moses different? (50:00) Barb - Going to Saturday mass question 

Johnny Cash "Get Rhythm"The Replacements "I Hate Music"Lil Hardin Armstrong "Harlem On Saturday Night"Steve Earle & The Dukes (& Duchesses) "After Mardi Gras"Jake Xerxes Fussell "Jump for Joy"The Two Poor Boys - Joe Evans & Arthur McClain "Sitting On Top of the World"S.G. Goodman "Patron Saint Of The Dollar Store"Joseph Spence "We Shall Be Happy"Jimmie Lunceford "I'm Nuts About Screwy Music"Shovels & Rope "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain (feat. John Moreland)"Bessie Jones "Titanic"Etta Baker "Going Down the Road Feeling Bad"Freakwater "Bolshevik and Bollweevil"The Breeders "Do You Love Me Now?"Billie and De De Pierce "Lonesome Road"Joan Shelley "Pull Me Up One More Time"Amos Milburn "After Midnight"The Both "Volunteers of America"Aretha Franklin "Never Grow Old"Slim Cessna's Auto Club "Port Authority Band"Butterbeans & Susie "Been Some Changes Made"Nina Nastasia "Just Stay in Bed"Bo Diddley "Cops and Robbers"McKinney's Cotton Pickers "Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams - Take 1"Andrew Bird "Underlands"Superchunk "My Gap Feels Weird"John Fahey "St Louis Blues"Gillian Welch "I Made a Lovers Prayer"Huey "Piano" Smith "Don't You Just Know It"Billie Holiday "Sugar"Songs: Ohia "Blue Chicago Moon"Mississippi Fred McDowell "Poor Boy, Long Way From Home"Joel Paterson "Callin' the Cat"Chicago Stone Lightning Band "Do Yourself a Favor"Johnny Cash "You Win Again"Emile Barnes & Peter Bocage "When I Grow Too Old to Dream"The Yardbirds "Evil Hearted You"Muddy Waters "Hey, Hey"Bonnie "Prince" Billy "I Have Made a Place"Bessie Smith "After You've Gone"Elvis Costello & The Attractions "Colour of the Blues"Ruth Brown "Teardrops from My Eyes"Furry Lewis "Judge Boushay Blues"Sons of the Pioneers "One More River to Cross"Marty Stuart "Hey Porter"Bob Dylan & Johnny Cash "Girl from the North Country"Johnny Cash "I See a Darkness"Chisel "The Last Good Time"

 Direct DownloadBing wraps a month-long look at rhythms by offering up some practice strums in 2/4, 4/4, 3/4 and 6/8 time. For all skill levels! Bing Futch is endorsed by Folkcraft Instruments, V-Picks and Zither Stands.Enjoy "Dulcimerica"? Consider supporting the program by becoming a patron!

The inevitable Musk sex scandal. Musk is better at Twitter than Trump. Who picked Johnny Depp as the anti-Me-Too poster boy? Bob got addicted to the Depp-Heard trial and he doesn't know why. The hard case Tucker Carlson critics are ducking. Bob lets Mickey go on. Up to a point. What does Ron Brownstein mean by ‘transformation' exactly? The craziest anti-deplorable. Twitter eats Ben Wittes's brain. Zelensky lowers expectations. Biden's charter school sellout? The three levels of Severance. Did Tucker's mom get to him? The race to identify Biden's core problem: Megalomania gaining down the stretch. New Jersey corruption: Just when Bob thought he was out, they pulled him back in. Why would BBB cause inflation?—Can Larry Summers be wrong? The origins of Ukrainian nationalism. Mickey's crazy explanation of Spanish anarchism. Good news and bad news about Covid vaccination. Parrot impersonates Elon Musk singing ‘Get Rhythm'.  This dialogue is (in part, at least) a continuation of a publicly available dialogue taped earlier in the day. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nonzero.substack.com/subscribe

 Direct DownloadAn advanced level episode on rhythm opens up the field to include techniques such as palm muting, hammer-ons, pull-offs, chops, and switching between strums and flatpicking for variety. Bing Futch is endorsed by Folkcraft Instruments, V-Picks and Zither Stands.Enjoy "Dulcimerica"? Consider supporting the program by becoming a patron!

 Direct DownloadContinuing an emphasis on rhythm, this intermediate level episode recaps some basic elements of building a strum, and how to find the support rhythm for every tune. This leads into selective strumming with demonstrations of various tunes throughout. Bing Futch is endorsed by Folkcraft Instruments, V-Picks and Zither Stands.Enjoy "Dulcimerica"? Consider supporting the program by becoming a patron!

 Direct DownloadFor May 2022, the focus is on rhythm for all skill levels, starting with beginners. Bing goes into detail on the fundamentals for strumming. This includes where to strum and why, pick selection and grip, cadence exercises and playing actual tunes. Bing Futch is endorsed by Folkcraft Instruments, V-Picks and Zither Stands.Enjoy "Dulcimerica"? Consider supporting the program by becoming a patron!

Rhythm is a part of life. It's literally in our hearts! If we want to thrive in this life, and we have to intentionally develop a spiritual rhythm in your life.

Rhythm is a part of life. It's literally in our hearts! If we want to thrive in this life, and we have to intentionally develop a spiritual rhythm in your life.

Drive-By Truckers "Dragon Pants"Elvis Costello & The Attractions "Uncomplicated"Howlin' Wolf "I Asked for Water (She Gave Me Gasoline)"Danny Barker "Ham & Eggs"Charlie Parr "Cheap Wine"Superchunk "Kicked In"Amy Helm "Didn't It Rain"Jack White "Sittin' On Top of The World"Billie Holiday "Sugar"ARMCHAIR MARTIAN "Swingin' w/ Jesus"Johnny Cash "Get Rhythm"Two Cow Garage "My Concern"The Jam "Sounds from the Street"Chisel "Theme For A Pharmacist"Precious Bryant "My Chauffeur"Bob Dylan "Delia"Joan Shelley "Jenny Come In"Lucero "When You Decided To Leave"John R. Miller "Lookin' Over My Shoulder"Billie Jo Spears "I Don't Wanna Play House"Bull Moose Jackson & His Buffalo Bearcats "I Know Who Threw the Whiskey in the Well!"Cedric Burnside "Keep On Pushing"Valerie June "Call Me A Fool"Blue Lu Barker "A Little Bird Told Me"Duke Ellington "Black And Tan Fantasy"Songs: Ohia "Didn't It Rain"Hank Williams "Alone and Forsaken"Sister Rosetta Tharpe "Didn't It Rain"Bonnie Raitt "Everybody's Cryin' Mercy"Mississippi Fred Mc Dowell "White Lightnin'"Lefty Frizzell "No One to Talk to But the Blues"Otis Spann "Goin' Down Slow"Jimmie Rodgers "Sweet Mama Hurry Home"Townes Van Zandt "Tecumseh Valley"J Mascis "Circle"R.E.M. "Begin The Begin"Sleater-Kinney "Hot Rock"Jimmy Reed "Honest I Do"Steve And Justin Townes Earle "Candy Man"Hartman's Heartbreakers "Let Me Play with It"THE BLACK CROWES "Bad Luck Blue Eyes Goodbye"Aretha Franklin "People Get Ready"R.L. Burnside "Miss Maybelle"Ella Fitzgerald "'Tain't What You Do"John Hammond "I Know I've Been Changed"The Replacements "Here Comes a Regular"Sidney Bechet "Strange Fruit"

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Bienvenidos a El Rugido de mi Impala Este mes, tengo el inmenso placer de centrar el episodio, en la figura de todo un icono de la música norteamericana. El gran Johnny Cash, no solo pasó por una infancia complicada, falta de afecto y apoyo. También le dio al mundo todo un ejemplo de como un alma rota, con más demonios que ángeles abrazándola, era capaz de crear los temas mas honestos y crudos hechos dentro del country y blue-grass. Me acompaña en el viaje la incombustible Esme Esteban, escritora, actriz, cantante en sus ratos libres y un espíritu a prueba de bombas, y también, he podido contar con la siempre deliciosa colaboración de Alfonso Cardenal, directo del "Sofá Sonoro" de la SER. Dadle lustre a vuestras botas, seleccionad vuestra mejor hebilla y el sombrero de los domingos. El reverendo Cash pasa lista, y si no estáis dentro... ...Estaréis fuera y "God's gonna cut you down" Descarga, escucha, comparte, disfruta. Yo, me encargo del resto. GET RHYTHM!! Arrancamos La portada del episodio así como el logo del podcast son obra de José Antonio Moreno (@reditweet) -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Recuerda, que puedes unirte a los FANS del Impala, con acceso a "bonus", y sin publicidad, accediendo a través de este enlace, y eligiendo la opción "Apoyar": https://www.ivoox.com/podcast-rugido-mi-impala_sq_f1450351_1.html -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Contacta conmigo en: Twitter: @RugidoImpala Facebook: El Rugido de mi Impala Podcast E-mail: rugidoimpala@gmail.com IG: rugido_impala Web: https://rugidoimpala.wixsite.com/podcast

In this episode: The Beatles Unadorned, Tom Petty x Eddie Vedder, and a Rare Steely Dan Demo

 Aug 23 2020 Get Rhythm - Seen at the Well by Pastor Brandon Cousineau Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

 Aug 16 2020 Get Rhythm - Persevering In Rhythm by Pastor Joshua Maedel Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

Aug 9 2020 Get Rhythm - Stability in an Unstable World by Pastor Brandon Cousineau.mp3 Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

Aug 2 2020 Get Rhythm - Abiding in Him by Pastor Brandon Cousineau Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

Jul 26 2020 Get Rhythm - Out of the Darkness by Pastor Brandon Cousineau Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

Jul 19 2020 Get Rhythm - What Are You Searching For by Pastor Brandon Cousineau Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

Jul 12 2020 Get Rhythm - Abide in Me by Pastor Brandon Cousineau Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

Jul 5 2020 Get Rhythm - Find Your Balance by Pastor Brandon Cousineau Weekly Church Sermons from Amherstburg Community Church

 Direct DownloadA 30-minute excerpt from Bing's “Get Rhythm On Mountain Dulcimer” livestream workshop on Crowdcast. The basics are covered here, from note durations to a strumming practice using quarter, eighth and sixteenth notes.Bing Futch is endorsed by Folkcraft Instruments, V-Picks and Zither Stands.Enjoy "Dulcimerica"? Consider supporting the program by becoming a patron!

El pasado sábado sabíamos de la muerte de Little Richard, uno de los grandes pioneros del rock and roll, con 87 años y debido a un cáncer de huesos. Fue un superviviente de las raíces más profundas del genuino rock and roll, un artista simplemente inclasificable que hoy tenía que abrir nuestro programa. Y lo hace de una forma curiosa. Una grabación realizada un año antes de la muerte de Johnny Cash, que fue testigo de cómo algunos de los nombres más sonoros de la música popular como Dylan, Springsteen o Dwight Yoakam, entre otros, se reunían en Kindred Spirits: A Tribute to the Songs of Johnny Cash, un álbum en el que también participó el ahora recordado Little Richard con una versión muy personal de "Get Rhythm", que en el 56 fue cara B del single "I Walk the Line" el Man In Black. Blackberry Smoke había reservado como tema de cierre de su nuevo proyecto discográfico, Live at Capricorn Sound Studios, esta versión a "Southern Child", la canción que daba nombre en 1972 al cuarto trabajo del hoy fallecido Little Richard para Reprise. Inexplicablemente, el disco no se publicó, y los temas aparecerían hace 15 años en un recopilatorio de Rhino dedicado al mítico artista. Nativo de Macon, en Georgia, sede de los Capricorn Sound Studios, Little Richard compuso esta canción tremendamente optimista que ahora Blackberry Smoke ha revitalizado con una versión poderosa en la que intervienen como invitados Jimmy Hall de Wet Willie a la armónica y el dúo de Atlanta The Black Bettys en los coros vocales. Escuchar audio

This week on the True Blue Podcast, your host, Zachary Succardi, discusses his week in review, Ash Wednesday, the benefits of listening to music, poetry from the Haiku Anthology, and much more. Music from the Cocteau Twins. Please enjoi!

Especial: Grandes momentos do rock blues   01) Black Cat Bone/Dust My Broom         4:54  Waters, Winter & Cotton     Breakin It Up, Breakin It Down (live)    02) That's The Way Love Is (remaster)/B.B. King & Bobby Blue Bland                    Together For The First Time...Live, 1974 03) Superstition (remaster)     4:23  Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble/            Live Alive, 1986       04) Come See About Me         3:51      Tedeschi Trucks Band      Revelator 2011 12/7/19, 9:45 PM       05) Can't Let You Do It   3:51      Eric Clapton       I Still Do, 2016 06) My Baby Blues 3:04       J.J. Cale        Stay Around, 2019   07) Lost Inside The Blues      4:27 Leon Russell        Guitar Blues, 2001 08) Yo Yo Man (Feat. Peter Green, Steve Miller, John Mcvie and Mick Fleetwood)       3:02    Along for the Ride/ John Mayall/ 2001 09) Cant Do It Wrong    3:44      Ringo Starr      Y Not, 2010 10) Dimples  4:00  John Lee Hooker                Don't Look Back, 2014 11) Trick Or Treat  3:11      Robert Cray        Sweet Potato Pie, 1997    12) Making A Fool Of Myself  3:23  Johnny Copeland       Catch Up With The Blues, 1993 13) All Shook Up   3:31       Ry Cooder      Get Rhythm, 1987

Larry Ernest Blackmon (born May 24, 1956) is an American vocalist and musician who gained acclaim as the lead singer and founder frontman of the funk and R&B band Cameo. Starting the band "East Coast", Blackmon formed the "New York City Players" as a compliment to the Ohio Players. Having to rename the group because of a conflict, Blackmon later called the group Cameo. Blackmon lived in Harlem and played drums on several hits for the band Black Ivory. He is the son of Lee Black, a former boxer.Along with his unique vocal style, Blackmon's other personal touches included sporting an elaborate hi-top fade haircut and a codpiece over his pants. His signature "Ow!" was used as the intro for some of the band's songs.Blackmon appeared as a backing vocalist on Ry Cooder's 1987 album "Get Rhythm" and Cyndi Lauper's 1989 album A Night to Remember. He also had co-producer credits on Eddie Murphy's 1989 album So Happy.The snare drum sound that Blackmon created for "Word Up!" and "Candy" was duplicated on releases by a wide range of artists.[1] The group Cameo appeared at Adventureland Palace sponsored by Black Pride Inc., on April 26, 1978.Atlanta-based funk quartet CA$HFLOW, which had a hit with "Mine all Mine" in 1986, was founded by Blackmon.One of his sons is heavily involved in the New York political scene,[2] while another son is currently involved in the hip hop music industry.[citation needed] See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Episode thirty-seven of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at "I Walk The Line" by Johnny Cash, and is part two of a trilogy on the aftermath of Elvis leaving Sun, and the birth of rockabilly. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a thirteen-minute bonus episode available, on "Don't Be Angry" by Nappy Brown.  ----more---- Errata Two minor errors I noticed while editing but didn't think were worth going back and redoing -- I pronounce "Belshazzar" incorrectly (it's pronounced as Cash does in the song, as far as I can tell), and I said that the lyric to "Get Rhythm" contains the phrase "if you get the blues", when of course it's "when you get the blues". Resources As always, I've created a Mixcloud streaming playlist with full versions of all the songs in the episode. My main source for this episode is Johnny Cash: The Life by Robert Hilburn. I'm relying heavily on Sam Phillips: the Man Who Invented Rock and Roll by Peter Guralnick for all the episodes dealing with Phillips and Sun Records. This triple-CD set contains everything Johnny Cash recorded for Sun Records. His early Sun singles are also on this ten-disc set, which charts the history of Sun Records, with the A- and B-sides of ninety of the first Sun singles in chronological order for an absurdly low price. This will help give you the full context for Cash's work, in a way hearing it in isolation wouldn't.     Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them?  Transcript This podcast is called a history of rock music, but one of the things we're going to learn as the story goes on is that the history of any genre in popular music eventually encompasses them all. And at the end of 1955, in particular, there was no hard and fast distinction between the genres of rock and roll, rhythm and blues, and country music. So today we're going to talk about someone who, to many, epitomises country music more than any other artist, but who started out recording for Sam Phillips at Sun Studios, making music that was stylistically indistinguishable from any of the other rockabilly artists there, and whose career would intertwine with all of them for decades to come. Before you listen to this one, you might want to go back and listen to last week's episode, on "Blue Suede Shoes", because the stories of Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins tie together quite a lot, and this is effectively part two of a three-parter, about Sun Records and the birth of rockabilly. Johnny Cash's birth name was actually J.R. Cash -- initials rather than a full name -- and that was how he was known until he joined the Air Force. His parents apparently had a disagreement over what their son's name should be, and so rather than give him full names, they just gave him initials. The Air Force wouldn't allow him to just use initials as his name, so he changed his name to John R. Cash. It was only once he became a professional musician that he took on the name Johnny Cash. He still never had a middle name, just a middle initial. While he was in the military, he'd been the very first American to learn that Stalin had died, as he'd been the radio operator who'd intercepted and decoded the Russian transmissions about it. But the military had never been the career he wanted. He wanted to be a singer. He just didn't know how. After returning to the US from his stint in the Air Force in Germany, aged twenty-two, Cash got married and moved to Memphis, to be near his brother. Cash's brother introduced him to two of his colleagues, Luther Perkins and Marshall Grant. Both Perkins and Grant could play a little guitar, and they started getting together to play a little music, sometimes with a steel player called Red Kernodle. They were very, very, unskilled musicians, but that didn't matter. They had a couple of things that mattered far more than skill. They had a willingness to try anything if it might sound good, and they had Cash's voice, which even as a callow young man sounded like Cash had been carved out of rock and imbued with the spirit of an Old Testament prophet. Cash never had a huge range, but his voice had a sonority to it that was quite astonishing, a resonant bass-baritone that demanded you pay attention to what it had to say. And Cash had a determination that he was going to become a famous singer. He had no idea how one was to go about this, but he knew it was what he wanted to do. To start with, they mostly performed the gospel songs that Cash loved. This was the music that is euphemistically called Southern Gospel, but which is really white gospel. Cash had had a religious experience as a kid, when his elder brother, who had wanted to become a priest, had died and had had a deathbed vision of heaven and hell, and Cash wanted to become a gospel singer to pay tribute to his brother while also indulging his own love of music. But then at one of their jam sessions, Cash brought in a song he had written himself, called "Belshazzar", based on a story from the Bible: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash: "Belshazzar"] The other two were amazed. Not so much by the song itself, but by the fact that you could write a song at all. The idea that songs were something you write was not something that had really occurred to them. Cash, Perkins, and Grant all played acoustic guitar at first, and none of them were particularly good. They were mostly just hanging out together, having fun. They were just singing stuff they'd heard on the radio, and they particularly wanted to sound like the Louvin Brothers: [Excerpt: The Louvin Brothers, "This Little Light of Mine"] They were having fun together, but that was all. But Cash was ambitious to do something more. And that "something more" took shape when he heard a record, one that was recorded the day after the plane that took Cash back into the US touched down: [Excerpt: Elvis Presley, "That's All Right Mama"] He liked the sound of that record a lot. And what he liked even more was hearing the DJ, after the song was played, say that the record was out on Sun Records, a label based in Memphis itself. Johnny, Luther, and Marshall went to see Elvis, Scotty, and Bill perform, playing on the back of a flatbed truck and just playing the two songs on their single. Cash was immediately worried – Elvis was clearly a teenager, and Cash himself was a grown man of twenty-two. Had he missed his chance at stardom? Was he too old? Cash had a chat with Elvis, and went along again the next night to see the trio performing a proper set at a nightclub, and this time he talked with Scotty Moore and asked him how to get signed to Sun. Moore told him to speak to Sam Phillips, and so Cash got hold of Sun's phone number and started calling, asking to speak to Phillips, who was never in – he was out on the road a lot of the time, pushing the label's records to distributors and radio stations. But Cash also knew that he was going to have to do something more to get recorded. He was going to have to turn his little guitar jam sessions into a proper group like Elvis, Scotty, and Bill, not just three people bashing away together at acoustic guitars. They sometimes had Red on steel guitar, but they still needed some variety. Cash was obviously going to be the lead singer, so it made sense for him to stick with the acoustic rhythm guitar. Luther Perkins got himself an electric guitar and started playing lead lines which amounted to little more than boogie-woogie basslines transposed up an octave. Marshall Grant, meanwhile, got himself a double bass, and taped markers on it to show him where the notes were. He'd never played one before, so all he could do was play single notes every other beat, with big gaps between the notes -- "Boom [pause] boom [pause] boom [pause] boom" -- he couldn't get his fingers between the notes any faster. This group was clearly not anything like as professional as Presley and his group, but they had *something*. Their limitations as musicians meant that they had to find ways to make the songs work without relying on complicated parts or virtuoso playing. As Luther Perkins would later put it, "You know how all those hot-shot guitarists race their fingers all over the strings? Well, they’re looking for the right sound. I found it.” But Cash was still, frankly, a little worried that his group weren't all that great, and when he finally went to see Sam Phillips in person, having failed to get hold of him on the phone, he went alone. Phillips was immediately impressed by Cash's bearing and presence. He was taller, and more dignified, than most of the people who came in to audition for Phillips. He was someone with presence, and gravitas, and Phillips thought he had the makings of a star. The day after meeting Phillips for the first time, Cash brought his musician friends around as well, and Johnny, Luther, Marshall, and Red all had a chat with Phillips. Phillips explained to them that they didn't need to be technically great musicians, just have the right kind of sound. The four of them rehearsed, and then came back to Phillips with some of the material they'd been practising. But when it came time to audition, their steel player got so scared that he couldn't tune his guitar, his hands were shaking so much. Eventually he decided that he was holding the other three back, and left the studio, and the audition continued with just the group who had now become the Tennessee Three – a name they chose because while they all now lived in Tennessee, none of them had originally come from there. Phillips liked their sound, but explained that he wasn't particularly interested in putting out gospel music. There's an urban legend that Phillips said "go home and sin, then come back with a song I can sell", though this was denied by Cash. But it is true that he'd had no sales success with gospel music, and that he wanted something more commercial. Whatever Phillips said, though, Cash took the hint, and went home and started writing secular songs. The one he came back to Phillips with, "Hey Porter", was inspired by the sound of the railway, and had a boom-chick-a-boom rhythm that would soon become Cash's trademark: [Excerpt, "Hey Porter": Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two] Phillips liked it, and the Tennessee Three set to recording it. Or at least that was what they were called when they recorded it, but by the time it was released Sam Phillips had suggested a slight name change, and the single came out under the name Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two. As the Tennessee Two didn't have a drummer, Cash put paper between the strings and the fretboard of his acoustic guitar to deaden the sound and turn it into something that approximated the sound of a snare drum. The resulting boom-chick sound was one that would become a signature of Cash's recordings for the next few decades, a uniquely country music take on the two-beat rhythm. That sound was almost entirely forced on the group by their instrumental limitations, but it was a sound that worked. The song Cash brought in to Phillips as a possible B-side was called "Folsom Prison Blues", and it was only an original in the loosest possible sense. Before going off to Germany with the air force, Cash had seen a film called "Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison", and it had given Cash the idea that someone should write a song about that. But he'd put the idea to the back of his mind until two other inspirations arrived. The first was a song called "Crescent City Blues", which he heard on a Gordon Jenkins album that a fellow airman in Germany owned: [Excerpt: Gordon Jenkins (Beverly Maher vocals): "Crescent City Blues"] If you've not heard that song before, and are familiar with Cash's work, you're probably mildly in shock right now at just how much like “Folsom Prison Blues” that is. Jenkins' song in turn is also strongly inspired by another song, also titled "Crescent City Blues", by the boogie-woogie pianist Little Brother Montgomery: [Excerpt Little Brother Montgomery, "Crescent City Blues"] The second musical inspiration for Cash's prison song was a song by Cash's idol, Jimmie Rodgers, "Blue Yodel #1", also known as "T For Texas": [Excerpt: Jimmie Rodgers, "Blue Yodel #1"] The line "I'm gonna shoot poor Thelma, just to see her jump and fall" hit Cash hard, and he realised that the most morally bankrupt person he could imagine was someone who would kill someone else just to watch them die. He put this bleak amorality together with the idea of a song about Folsom, and changed just enough of the words to "Crescent City Blues" that it worked with this new concept of the character, and he titled the result "Folsom Prison Blues": [Excerpt: Johnny Cash, "Folsom Prison Blues"] 9) Sam Phillips didn't think that was suitable as the B-side to "Hey Porter", and they eventually went for a sad song that Cash had written titled "Cry Cry Cry," but "Folsom Prison Blues" was put aside as a future possibility. When the contract was drawn up, the only person who was actually signed to Sun was Cash – Phillips didn't want to be tied to the other two musicians. But while only Cash was signed to the label, they split the money more or less equitably, in a forty-thirty-thirty split (other sources say that the split was completely equal). “Hey Porter” and “Cry Cry Cry” both charted, and "Folsom Prison Blues" became Cash's second single, and one of the songs that would define him for the rest of his career. It went to number four on the country and western chart, and established him as a genuine star of country music. It's around this time that Sun signed Carl Perkins, which caused problems. Cash resented the way that he was being treated by Phillips as being less important than Perkins. He thought that Phillips was now only interested in his new star, and wasn't going to bother promoting Cash's records any more. This would be a recurring pattern with Phillips over the next few years -- he would discover some new star and whoever his previous favourite was would be convinced that Phillips no longer cared about them any more. This is ultimately what led to Sun's downfall, as one by one his discoveries moved on to other labels that they believed valued them more than Phillips did. Phillips, on the other hand, always argued that he had to put in more time when dealing with a new discovery, because he had to build their career up, and that established artists would always forget what he'd done for them when they saw him doing the same things for the next person. That's not to say, though, that Cash disliked Perkins. Quite the contrary. The two became close friends -- though Cash became even closer with Clayton Perkins, Carl's wayward brother, who had a juvenile sense of humour that appealed to Cash. Cash even co-wrote a song with Perkins, "All Mama's Children", which became the B-side to Perkins' "Boppin' the Blues": [Excerpt, Carl Perkins, "All Mama's Children"] It's not the greatest song either man ever wrote, by any means, but it was the start of a working relationship that would continue off and on for decades, and which both men would benefit from significantly. By this point, Cash had started to build a following, and as you might expect given his inspiration, he was following the exact same career path as Elvis Presley. He was managed by Elvis' first proper manager, Bob Neal, and he was given a regular slot on the Louisiana Hayride, the country music radio show that Elvis had built his reputation on. But this meant that Cash was being promoted alongside Carl Perkins, as a rock and roll star. This would actually do wonders for Cash's career in the long term. A lot of people who wouldn't listen to anything labeled country were fans of Cash in the mid fifties, and remained with him, and this meant that his image was always a little more appealing to rock audiences than many other similar singers. You can trace a direct line between Cash being promoted as a rock and roller in 1955 and 56, and his comeback with the American Recordings series more than forty years later. But when Cash brought in a new song he'd written, about his struggle while on the road to be true to his wife (and, implicitly, also to his God), it caused a clash between him and Sam Phillips. That song was quite possibly inspired by a line in "Sixteen Tons", the big hit from Tennessee Ernie Ford that year, which Cash fell in love with when it came out, and which made Cash a lifelong fan of its writer Merle Travis: [Excerpt: "Sixteen Tons", Tennessee Ernie Ford] He never made the connection publicly himself, but that image of walking the line almost definitely stuck in Cash's mind, and it became the central image of a song he wrote while on the road, thinking about fidelity in every sense. "I Walk the Line" was the subject of a lot of debate between Cash and Phillips, neither of whom were entirely convinced by the other's argument. Cash was sure that the song was a good one, maybe the best song he ever wrote, but he wanted to play it as a slow, plaintive, lovelorn ballad. Phillips, on the other hand, wasn't so impressed by the song itself, but he thought that it had some potential if it was sped up to the kind of tempo that "Hey Porter", "Cry Cry Cry" and "Folsom Prison Blues" had all been performed in -- a rock and roll tempo, for Cash's rock and roll audience. Give it some rhythm, and some of the boom-chika-boom, and there might be something there. Cash argued that he didn't need to. After all, the other song he had brought in, one that he cared about much less and had originally written to give to Elvis, was a rock and roll song. The lyrics even went "Get rhythm if you get the blues": [Excerpt: Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two: "Get Rhythm"] That song itself would go on to become a hit for Cash, and a staple of his live shows, but Phillips didn't see a reason why, just because one side of the record was uptempo, the other shouldn't be as well. He wanted the music to be universal, rather than personal, and to his mind a strong rhythm was necessary for universality. They eventually compromised and recorded two versions, a faster one recorded the way Phillips wanted it, and a slower one, the way Cash liked it. Cash walked out convinced that Phillips would see reason and release the slower version. He was devastated to find that Phillips had released the faster version. Cash later said, “The first time I heard it on the radio, I called him and said, ‘I hate that sound. Please don’t release any more records. I hate that sound.’ ” But then the record became a massive hit, and Cash decided that maybe the sound wasn't so bad after all. It went to number one on the country jukebox chart, made the top twenty in the pop charts, and sold more than two million copies as a single. Phillips had unquestionably had the right instincts, commercially at least. [Excerpt: Johnny Cash, "I Walk The Line"] "I Walk The Line" has a very, very, unusual structure. There's a key change after every single verse. This is just not something that you do, normally. Most pop songs will either stay in one key throughout, have a different key for different sections (so they might be in a minor key for the verse and a major key for the chorus, for example) or have one key change near the end, to give the song a bit of a kick. Here, the first verse is in F, then it goes up a fourth for the second verse, in B flat. It goes up another fourth, to E flat, for the third verse, then for the fourth verse it's back down to B flat, and the fifth verse it's back down to F, though an octave lower. (For those wondering about those keys, either they're playing with capoes or, more likely, Sam Phillips sped the track up a semitone to make it sound faster.) And this is really very, very, clever in the way it sets the mood of the song. The song starts and ends in the same place both musically and lyrically -- the last verse is a duplicate of the first, though sung an octave lower than it started -- and the rising and falling overall arc of the song suggests a natural cycle that goes along with the metaphors in the lyrics -- the tides, heartbeats, day and night, dark and light. The protagonist of the song is walking a thin line, wobbling, liable at any moment to fall over to one side or another, just like the oscillation and return to the original tonal centre in this song. What sounds like a relatively crude piece of work is, when listened to closely, a much more inventive record. And this is true of the chord sequences in the individual verses too. The verses only have three chords each -- the standard three chords that most country or blues songs have, the tonic, subdominant and dominant of the key. But they're not arranged in the standard order that you'd have them in, in a three-chord trick or a twelve-bar blues. Instead the verses all start with the dominant, an unusual, unstable, choice that came about from Cash having once threaded a tape backwards and having been fascinated by the sound. The dominant is normally the last chord. Here it's the first. The backwards tape is also one story as to where he got the idea of the humming that starts every verse -- though Cash also used to claim that the humming was so he could find the right note because there were so many key changes. This is not a song that's structured like a normal country and western song, and it's quite an extraordinarily personal piece of work. It's an expression of one man's very personal aesthetic, no matter how much Sam Phillips altered it to fit his own ideas of what Cash should be recording. It's an utterly idiosyncratic, utterly *strange* record, and a very strong contender for the best thing Sun Records ever put out, which is a high bar to meet. The fact that this sold two million copies in a country market that is usually characterised as conservative shows just how wrong such stereotypes can be. It was a masterpiece, and Johnny Cash was set for a very, very, long and artistically successful career. But that career wouldn't be with Sun. His life was in turmoil, the marriage that he had written so movingly about trying to keep together was falling apart, and he was beginning to think that he would do better doing as Elvis had and moving to a major label. Soon he would be signed to Columbia, the label where he would spend almost all his career, but we'll have one last glimpse of him at Sun. before he went off to Columbia and superstardom, in a future episode. And next week, we'll look at how Elvis was doing away from Sun.

Episode thirty-seven of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “I Walk The Line” by Johnny Cash, and is part two of a trilogy on the aftermath of Elvis leaving Sun, and the birth of rockabilly. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a thirteen-minute bonus episode available, on “Don’t Be Angry” by Nappy Brown.  —-more—- Errata Two minor errors I noticed while editing but didn’t think were worth going back and redoing — I pronounce “Belshazzar” incorrectly (it’s pronounced as Cash does in the song, as far as I can tell), and I said that the lyric to “Get Rhythm” contains the phrase “if you get the blues”, when of course it’s “when you get the blues”. Resources As always, I’ve created a Mixcloud streaming playlist with full versions of all the songs in the episode. My main source for this episode is Johnny Cash: The Life by Robert Hilburn. I’m relying heavily on Sam Phillips: the Man Who Invented Rock and Roll by Peter Guralnick for all the episodes dealing with Phillips and Sun Records. This triple-CD set contains everything Johnny Cash recorded for Sun Records. His early Sun singles are also on this ten-disc set, which charts the history of Sun Records, with the A- and B-sides of ninety of the first Sun singles in chronological order for an absurdly low price. This will help give you the full context for Cash’s work, in a way hearing it in isolation wouldn’t.     Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them?  Transcript This podcast is called a history of rock music, but one of the things we’re going to learn as the story goes on is that the history of any genre in popular music eventually encompasses them all. And at the end of 1955, in particular, there was no hard and fast distinction between the genres of rock and roll, rhythm and blues, and country music. So today we’re going to talk about someone who, to many, epitomises country music more than any other artist, but who started out recording for Sam Phillips at Sun Studios, making music that was stylistically indistinguishable from any of the other rockabilly artists there, and whose career would intertwine with all of them for decades to come. Before you listen to this one, you might want to go back and listen to last week’s episode, on “Blue Suede Shoes”, because the stories of Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins tie together quite a lot, and this is effectively part two of a three-parter, about Sun Records and the birth of rockabilly. Johnny Cash’s birth name was actually J.R. Cash — initials rather than a full name — and that was how he was known until he joined the Air Force. His parents apparently had a disagreement over what their son’s name should be, and so rather than give him full names, they just gave him initials. The Air Force wouldn’t allow him to just use initials as his name, so he changed his name to John R. Cash. It was only once he became a professional musician that he took on the name Johnny Cash. He still never had a middle name, just a middle initial. While he was in the military, he’d been the very first American to learn that Stalin had died, as he’d been the radio operator who’d intercepted and decoded the Russian transmissions about it. But the military had never been the career he wanted. He wanted to be a singer. He just didn’t know how. After returning to the US from his stint in the Air Force in Germany, aged twenty-two, Cash got married and moved to Memphis, to be near his brother. Cash’s brother introduced him to two of his colleagues, Luther Perkins and Marshall Grant. Both Perkins and Grant could play a little guitar, and they started getting together to play a little music, sometimes with a steel player called Red Kernodle. They were very, very, unskilled musicians, but that didn’t matter. They had a couple of things that mattered far more than skill. They had a willingness to try anything if it might sound good, and they had Cash’s voice, which even as a callow young man sounded like Cash had been carved out of rock and imbued with the spirit of an Old Testament prophet. Cash never had a huge range, but his voice had a sonority to it that was quite astonishing, a resonant bass-baritone that demanded you pay attention to what it had to say. And Cash had a determination that he was going to become a famous singer. He had no idea how one was to go about this, but he knew it was what he wanted to do. To start with, they mostly performed the gospel songs that Cash loved. This was the music that is euphemistically called Southern Gospel, but which is really white gospel. Cash had had a religious experience as a kid, when his elder brother, who had wanted to become a priest, had died and had had a deathbed vision of heaven and hell, and Cash wanted to become a gospel singer to pay tribute to his brother while also indulging his own love of music. But then at one of their jam sessions, Cash brought in a song he had written himself, called “Belshazzar”, based on a story from the Bible: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash: “Belshazzar”] The other two were amazed. Not so much by the song itself, but by the fact that you could write a song at all. The idea that songs were something you write was not something that had really occurred to them. Cash, Perkins, and Grant all played acoustic guitar at first, and none of them were particularly good. They were mostly just hanging out together, having fun. They were just singing stuff they’d heard on the radio, and they particularly wanted to sound like the Louvin Brothers: [Excerpt: The Louvin Brothers, “This Little Light of Mine”] They were having fun together, but that was all. But Cash was ambitious to do something more. And that “something more” took shape when he heard a record, one that was recorded the day after the plane that took Cash back into the US touched down: [Excerpt: Elvis Presley, “That’s All Right Mama”] He liked the sound of that record a lot. And what he liked even more was hearing the DJ, after the song was played, say that the record was out on Sun Records, a label based in Memphis itself. Johnny, Luther, and Marshall went to see Elvis, Scotty, and Bill perform, playing on the back of a flatbed truck and just playing the two songs on their single. Cash was immediately worried – Elvis was clearly a teenager, and Cash himself was a grown man of twenty-two. Had he missed his chance at stardom? Was he too old? Cash had a chat with Elvis, and went along again the next night to see the trio performing a proper set at a nightclub, and this time he talked with Scotty Moore and asked him how to get signed to Sun. Moore told him to speak to Sam Phillips, and so Cash got hold of Sun’s phone number and started calling, asking to speak to Phillips, who was never in – he was out on the road a lot of the time, pushing the label’s records to distributors and radio stations. But Cash also knew that he was going to have to do something more to get recorded. He was going to have to turn his little guitar jam sessions into a proper group like Elvis, Scotty, and Bill, not just three people bashing away together at acoustic guitars. They sometimes had Red on steel guitar, but they still needed some variety. Cash was obviously going to be the lead singer, so it made sense for him to stick with the acoustic rhythm guitar. Luther Perkins got himself an electric guitar and started playing lead lines which amounted to little more than boogie-woogie basslines transposed up an octave. Marshall Grant, meanwhile, got himself a double bass, and taped markers on it to show him where the notes were. He’d never played one before, so all he could do was play single notes every other beat, with big gaps between the notes — “Boom [pause] boom [pause] boom [pause] boom” — he couldn’t get his fingers between the notes any faster. This group was clearly not anything like as professional as Presley and his group, but they had *something*. Their limitations as musicians meant that they had to find ways to make the songs work without relying on complicated parts or virtuoso playing. As Luther Perkins would later put it, “You know how all those hot-shot guitarists race their fingers all over the strings? Well, they’re looking for the right sound. I found it.” But Cash was still, frankly, a little worried that his group weren’t all that great, and when he finally went to see Sam Phillips in person, having failed to get hold of him on the phone, he went alone. Phillips was immediately impressed by Cash’s bearing and presence. He was taller, and more dignified, than most of the people who came in to audition for Phillips. He was someone with presence, and gravitas, and Phillips thought he had the makings of a star. The day after meeting Phillips for the first time, Cash brought his musician friends around as well, and Johnny, Luther, Marshall, and Red all had a chat with Phillips. Phillips explained to them that they didn’t need to be technically great musicians, just have the right kind of sound. The four of them rehearsed, and then came back to Phillips with some of the material they’d been practising. But when it came time to audition, their steel player got so scared that he couldn’t tune his guitar, his hands were shaking so much. Eventually he decided that he was holding the other three back, and left the studio, and the audition continued with just the group who had now become the Tennessee Three – a name they chose because while they all now lived in Tennessee, none of them had originally come from there. Phillips liked their sound, but explained that he wasn’t particularly interested in putting out gospel music. There’s an urban legend that Phillips said “go home and sin, then come back with a song I can sell”, though this was denied by Cash. But it is true that he’d had no sales success with gospel music, and that he wanted something more commercial. Whatever Phillips said, though, Cash took the hint, and went home and started writing secular songs. The one he came back to Phillips with, “Hey Porter”, was inspired by the sound of the railway, and had a boom-chick-a-boom rhythm that would soon become Cash’s trademark: [Excerpt, “Hey Porter”: Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two] Phillips liked it, and the Tennessee Three set to recording it. Or at least that was what they were called when they recorded it, but by the time it was released Sam Phillips had suggested a slight name change, and the single came out under the name Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two. As the Tennessee Two didn’t have a drummer, Cash put paper between the strings and the fretboard of his acoustic guitar to deaden the sound and turn it into something that approximated the sound of a snare drum. The resulting boom-chick sound was one that would become a signature of Cash’s recordings for the next few decades, a uniquely country music take on the two-beat rhythm. That sound was almost entirely forced on the group by their instrumental limitations, but it was a sound that worked. The song Cash brought in to Phillips as a possible B-side was called “Folsom Prison Blues”, and it was only an original in the loosest possible sense. Before going off to Germany with the air force, Cash had seen a film called “Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison”, and it had given Cash the idea that someone should write a song about that. But he’d put the idea to the back of his mind until two other inspirations arrived. The first was a song called “Crescent City Blues”, which he heard on a Gordon Jenkins album that a fellow airman in Germany owned: [Excerpt: Gordon Jenkins (Beverly Maher vocals): “Crescent City Blues”] If you’ve not heard that song before, and are familiar with Cash’s work, you’re probably mildly in shock right now at just how much like “Folsom Prison Blues” that is. Jenkins’ song in turn is also strongly inspired by another song, also titled “Crescent City Blues”, by the boogie-woogie pianist Little Brother Montgomery: [Excerpt Little Brother Montgomery, “Crescent City Blues”] The second musical inspiration for Cash’s prison song was a song by Cash’s idol, Jimmie Rodgers, “Blue Yodel #1”, also known as “T For Texas”: [Excerpt: Jimmie Rodgers, “Blue Yodel #1”] The line “I’m gonna shoot poor Thelma, just to see her jump and fall” hit Cash hard, and he realised that the most morally bankrupt person he could imagine was someone who would kill someone else just to watch them die. He put this bleak amorality together with the idea of a song about Folsom, and changed just enough of the words to “Crescent City Blues” that it worked with this new concept of the character, and he titled the result “Folsom Prison Blues”: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash, “Folsom Prison Blues”] 9) Sam Phillips didn’t think that was suitable as the B-side to “Hey Porter”, and they eventually went for a sad song that Cash had written titled “Cry Cry Cry,” but “Folsom Prison Blues” was put aside as a future possibility. When the contract was drawn up, the only person who was actually signed to Sun was Cash – Phillips didn’t want to be tied to the other two musicians. But while only Cash was signed to the label, they split the money more or less equitably, in a forty-thirty-thirty split (other sources say that the split was completely equal). “Hey Porter” and “Cry Cry Cry” both charted, and “Folsom Prison Blues” became Cash’s second single, and one of the songs that would define him for the rest of his career. It went to number four on the country and western chart, and established him as a genuine star of country music. It’s around this time that Sun signed Carl Perkins, which caused problems. Cash resented the way that he was being treated by Phillips as being less important than Perkins. He thought that Phillips was now only interested in his new star, and wasn’t going to bother promoting Cash’s records any more. This would be a recurring pattern with Phillips over the next few years — he would discover some new star and whoever his previous favourite was would be convinced that Phillips no longer cared about them any more. This is ultimately what led to Sun’s downfall, as one by one his discoveries moved on to other labels that they believed valued them more than Phillips did. Phillips, on the other hand, always argued that he had to put in more time when dealing with a new discovery, because he had to build their career up, and that established artists would always forget what he’d done for them when they saw him doing the same things for the next person. That’s not to say, though, that Cash disliked Perkins. Quite the contrary. The two became close friends — though Cash became even closer with Clayton Perkins, Carl’s wayward brother, who had a juvenile sense of humour that appealed to Cash. Cash even co-wrote a song with Perkins, “All Mama’s Children”, which became the B-side to Perkins’ “Boppin’ the Blues”: [Excerpt, Carl Perkins, “All Mama’s Children”] It’s not the greatest song either man ever wrote, by any means, but it was the start of a working relationship that would continue off and on for decades, and which both men would benefit from significantly. By this point, Cash had started to build a following, and as you might expect given his inspiration, he was following the exact same career path as Elvis Presley. He was managed by Elvis’ first proper manager, Bob Neal, and he was given a regular slot on the Louisiana Hayride, the country music radio show that Elvis had built his reputation on. But this meant that Cash was being promoted alongside Carl Perkins, as a rock and roll star. This would actually do wonders for Cash’s career in the long term. A lot of people who wouldn’t listen to anything labeled country were fans of Cash in the mid fifties, and remained with him, and this meant that his image was always a little more appealing to rock audiences than many other similar singers. You can trace a direct line between Cash being promoted as a rock and roller in 1955 and 56, and his comeback with the American Recordings series more than forty years later. But when Cash brought in a new song he’d written, about his struggle while on the road to be true to his wife (and, implicitly, also to his God), it caused a clash between him and Sam Phillips. That song was quite possibly inspired by a line in “Sixteen Tons”, the big hit from Tennessee Ernie Ford that year, which Cash fell in love with when it came out, and which made Cash a lifelong fan of its writer Merle Travis: [Excerpt: “Sixteen Tons”, Tennessee Ernie Ford] He never made the connection publicly himself, but that image of walking the line almost definitely stuck in Cash’s mind, and it became the central image of a song he wrote while on the road, thinking about fidelity in every sense. “I Walk the Line” was the subject of a lot of debate between Cash and Phillips, neither of whom were entirely convinced by the other’s argument. Cash was sure that the song was a good one, maybe the best song he ever wrote, but he wanted to play it as a slow, plaintive, lovelorn ballad. Phillips, on the other hand, wasn’t so impressed by the song itself, but he thought that it had some potential if it was sped up to the kind of tempo that “Hey Porter”, “Cry Cry Cry” and “Folsom Prison Blues” had all been performed in — a rock and roll tempo, for Cash’s rock and roll audience. Give it some rhythm, and some of the boom-chika-boom, and there might be something there. Cash argued that he didn’t need to. After all, the other song he had brought in, one that he cared about much less and had originally written to give to Elvis, was a rock and roll song. The lyrics even went “Get rhythm if you get the blues”: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two: “Get Rhythm”] That song itself would go on to become a hit for Cash, and a staple of his live shows, but Phillips didn’t see a reason why, just because one side of the record was uptempo, the other shouldn’t be as well. He wanted the music to be universal, rather than personal, and to his mind a strong rhythm was necessary for universality. They eventually compromised and recorded two versions, a faster one recorded the way Phillips wanted it, and a slower one, the way Cash liked it. Cash walked out convinced that Phillips would see reason and release the slower version. He was devastated to find that Phillips had released the faster version. Cash later said, “The first time I heard it on the radio, I called him and said, ‘I hate that sound. Please don’t release any more records. I hate that sound.’ ” But then the record became a massive hit, and Cash decided that maybe the sound wasn’t so bad after all. It went to number one on the country jukebox chart, made the top twenty in the pop charts, and sold more than two million copies as a single. Phillips had unquestionably had the right instincts, commercially at least. [Excerpt: Johnny Cash, “I Walk The Line”] “I Walk The Line” has a very, very, unusual structure. There’s a key change after every single verse. This is just not something that you do, normally. Most pop songs will either stay in one key throughout, have a different key for different sections (so they might be in a minor key for the verse and a major key for the chorus, for example) or have one key change near the end, to give the song a bit of a kick. Here, the first verse is in F, then it goes up a fourth for the second verse, in B flat. It goes up another fourth, to E flat, for the third verse, then for the fourth verse it’s back down to B flat, and the fifth verse it’s back down to F, though an octave lower. (For those wondering about those keys, either they’re playing with capoes or, more likely, Sam Phillips sped the track up a semitone to make it sound faster.) And this is really very, very, clever in the way it sets the mood of the song. The song starts and ends in the same place both musically and lyrically — the last verse is a duplicate of the first, though sung an octave lower than it started — and the rising and falling overall arc of the song suggests a natural cycle that goes along with the metaphors in the lyrics — the tides, heartbeats, day and night, dark and light. The protagonist of the song is walking a thin line, wobbling, liable at any moment to fall over to one side or another, just like the oscillation and return to the original tonal centre in this song. What sounds like a relatively crude piece of work is, when listened to closely, a much more inventive record. And this is true of the chord sequences in the individual verses too. The verses only have three chords each — the standard three chords that most country or blues songs have, the tonic, subdominant and dominant of the key. But they’re not arranged in the standard order that you’d have them in, in a three-chord trick or a twelve-bar blues. Instead the verses all start with the dominant, an unusual, unstable, choice that came about from Cash having once threaded a tape backwards and having been fascinated by the sound. The dominant is normally the last chord. Here it’s the first. The backwards tape is also one story as to where he got the idea of the humming that starts every verse — though Cash also used to claim that the humming was so he could find the right note because there were so many key changes. This is not a song that’s structured like a normal country and western song, and it’s quite an extraordinarily personal piece of work. It’s an expression of one man’s very personal aesthetic, no matter how much Sam Phillips altered it to fit his own ideas of what Cash should be recording. It’s an utterly idiosyncratic, utterly *strange* record, and a very strong contender for the best thing Sun Records ever put out, which is a high bar to meet. The fact that this sold two million copies in a country market that is usually characterised as conservative shows just how wrong such stereotypes can be. It was a masterpiece, and Johnny Cash was set for a very, very, long and artistically successful career. But that career wouldn’t be with Sun. His life was in turmoil, the marriage that he had written so movingly about trying to keep together was falling apart, and he was beginning to think that he would do better doing as Elvis had and moving to a major label. Soon he would be signed to Columbia, the label where he would spend almost all his career, but we’ll have one last glimpse of him at Sun. before he went off to Columbia and superstardom, in a future episode. And next week, we’ll look at how Elvis was doing away from Sun.

Episode thirty-seven of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “I Walk The Line” by Johnny Cash, and is part two of a trilogy on the aftermath of Elvis leaving Sun, and the birth of rockabilly. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a thirteen-minute bonus episode available, on “Don’t Be Angry” by Nappy Brown.  —-more—- Errata Two minor errors I noticed while editing but didn’t think were worth going back and redoing — I pronounce “Belshazzar” incorrectly (it’s pronounced as Cash does in the song, as far as I can tell), and I said that the lyric to “Get Rhythm” contains the phrase “if you get the blues”, when of course it’s “when you get the blues”. Resources As always, I’ve created a Mixcloud streaming playlist with full versions of all the songs in the episode. My main source for this episode is Johnny Cash: The Life by Robert Hilburn. I’m relying heavily on Sam Phillips: the Man Who Invented Rock and Roll by Peter Guralnick for all the episodes dealing with Phillips and Sun Records. This triple-CD set contains everything Johnny Cash recorded for Sun Records. His early Sun singles are also on this ten-disc set, which charts the history of Sun Records, with the A- and B-sides of ninety of the first Sun singles in chronological order for an absurdly low price. This will help give you the full context for Cash’s work, in a way hearing it in isolation wouldn’t.     Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them?  Transcript This podcast is called a history of rock music, but one of the things we’re going to learn as the story goes on is that the history of any genre in popular music eventually encompasses them all. And at the end of 1955, in particular, there was no hard and fast distinction between the genres of rock and roll, rhythm and blues, and country music. So today we’re going to talk about someone who, to many, epitomises country music more than any other artist, but who started out recording for Sam Phillips at Sun Studios, making music that was stylistically indistinguishable from any of the other rockabilly artists there, and whose career would intertwine with all of them for decades to come. Before you listen to this one, you might want to go back and listen to last week’s episode, on “Blue Suede Shoes”, because the stories of Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins tie together quite a lot, and this is effectively part two of a three-parter, about Sun Records and the birth of rockabilly. Johnny Cash’s birth name was actually J.R. Cash — initials rather than a full name — and that was how he was known until he joined the Air Force. His parents apparently had a disagreement over what their son’s name should be, and so rather than give him full names, they just gave him initials. The Air Force wouldn’t allow him to just use initials as his name, so he changed his name to John R. Cash. It was only once he became a professional musician that he took on the name Johnny Cash. He still never had a middle name, just a middle initial. While he was in the military, he’d been the very first American to learn that Stalin had died, as he’d been the radio operator who’d intercepted and decoded the Russian transmissions about it. But the military had never been the career he wanted. He wanted to be a singer. He just didn’t know how. After returning to the US from his stint in the Air Force in Germany, aged twenty-two, Cash got married and moved to Memphis, to be near his brother. Cash’s brother introduced him to two of his colleagues, Luther Perkins and Marshall Grant. Both Perkins and Grant could play a little guitar, and they started getting together to play a little music, sometimes with a steel player called Red Kernodle. They were very, very, unskilled musicians, but that didn’t matter. They had a couple of things that mattered far more than skill. They had a willingness to try anything if it might sound good, and they had Cash’s voice, which even as a callow young man sounded like Cash had been carved out of rock and imbued with the spirit of an Old Testament prophet. Cash never had a huge range, but his voice had a sonority to it that was quite astonishing, a resonant bass-baritone that demanded you pay attention to what it had to say. And Cash had a determination that he was going to become a famous singer. He had no idea how one was to go about this, but he knew it was what he wanted to do. To start with, they mostly performed the gospel songs that Cash loved. This was the music that is euphemistically called Southern Gospel, but which is really white gospel. Cash had had a religious experience as a kid, when his elder brother, who had wanted to become a priest, had died and had had a deathbed vision of heaven and hell, and Cash wanted to become a gospel singer to pay tribute to his brother while also indulging his own love of music. But then at one of their jam sessions, Cash brought in a song he had written himself, called “Belshazzar”, based on a story from the Bible: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash: “Belshazzar”] The other two were amazed. Not so much by the song itself, but by the fact that you could write a song at all. The idea that songs were something you write was not something that had really occurred to them. Cash, Perkins, and Grant all played acoustic guitar at first, and none of them were particularly good. They were mostly just hanging out together, having fun. They were just singing stuff they’d heard on the radio, and they particularly wanted to sound like the Louvin Brothers: [Excerpt: The Louvin Brothers, “This Little Light of Mine”] They were having fun together, but that was all. But Cash was ambitious to do something more. And that “something more” took shape when he heard a record, one that was recorded the day after the plane that took Cash back into the US touched down: [Excerpt: Elvis Presley, “That’s All Right Mama”] He liked the sound of that record a lot. And what he liked even more was hearing the DJ, after the song was played, say that the record was out on Sun Records, a label based in Memphis itself. Johnny, Luther, and Marshall went to see Elvis, Scotty, and Bill perform, playing on the back of a flatbed truck and just playing the two songs on their single. Cash was immediately worried – Elvis was clearly a teenager, and Cash himself was a grown man of twenty-two. Had he missed his chance at stardom? Was he too old? Cash had a chat with Elvis, and went along again the next night to see the trio performing a proper set at a nightclub, and this time he talked with Scotty Moore and asked him how to get signed to Sun. Moore told him to speak to Sam Phillips, and so Cash got hold of Sun’s phone number and started calling, asking to speak to Phillips, who was never in – he was out on the road a lot of the time, pushing the label’s records to distributors and radio stations. But Cash also knew that he was going to have to do something more to get recorded. He was going to have to turn his little guitar jam sessions into a proper group like Elvis, Scotty, and Bill, not just three people bashing away together at acoustic guitars. They sometimes had Red on steel guitar, but they still needed some variety. Cash was obviously going to be the lead singer, so it made sense for him to stick with the acoustic rhythm guitar. Luther Perkins got himself an electric guitar and started playing lead lines which amounted to little more than boogie-woogie basslines transposed up an octave. Marshall Grant, meanwhile, got himself a double bass, and taped markers on it to show him where the notes were. He’d never played one before, so all he could do was play single notes every other beat, with big gaps between the notes — “Boom [pause] boom [pause] boom [pause] boom” — he couldn’t get his fingers between the notes any faster. This group was clearly not anything like as professional as Presley and his group, but they had *something*. Their limitations as musicians meant that they had to find ways to make the songs work without relying on complicated parts or virtuoso playing. As Luther Perkins would later put it, “You know how all those hot-shot guitarists race their fingers all over the strings? Well, they’re looking for the right sound. I found it.” But Cash was still, frankly, a little worried that his group weren’t all that great, and when he finally went to see Sam Phillips in person, having failed to get hold of him on the phone, he went alone. Phillips was immediately impressed by Cash’s bearing and presence. He was taller, and more dignified, than most of the people who came in to audition for Phillips. He was someone with presence, and gravitas, and Phillips thought he had the makings of a star. The day after meeting Phillips for the first time, Cash brought his musician friends around as well, and Johnny, Luther, Marshall, and Red all had a chat with Phillips. Phillips explained to them that they didn’t need to be technically great musicians, just have the right kind of sound. The four of them rehearsed, and then came back to Phillips with some of the material they’d been practising. But when it came time to audition, their steel player got so scared that he couldn’t tune his guitar, his hands were shaking so much. Eventually he decided that he was holding the other three back, and left the studio, and the audition continued with just the group who had now become the Tennessee Three – a name they chose because while they all now lived in Tennessee, none of them had originally come from there. Phillips liked their sound, but explained that he wasn’t particularly interested in putting out gospel music. There’s an urban legend that Phillips said “go home and sin, then come back with a song I can sell”, though this was denied by Cash. But it is true that he’d had no sales success with gospel music, and that he wanted something more commercial. Whatever Phillips said, though, Cash took the hint, and went home and started writing secular songs. The one he came back to Phillips with, “Hey Porter”, was inspired by the sound of the railway, and had a boom-chick-a-boom rhythm that would soon become Cash’s trademark: [Excerpt, “Hey Porter”: Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two] Phillips liked it, and the Tennessee Three set to recording it. Or at least that was what they were called when they recorded it, but by the time it was released Sam Phillips had suggested a slight name change, and the single came out under the name Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two. As the Tennessee Two didn’t have a drummer, Cash put paper between the strings and the fretboard of his acoustic guitar to deaden the sound and turn it into something that approximated the sound of a snare drum. The resulting boom-chick sound was one that would become a signature of Cash’s recordings for the next few decades, a uniquely country music take on the two-beat rhythm. That sound was almost entirely forced on the group by their instrumental limitations, but it was a sound that worked. The song Cash brought in to Phillips as a possible B-side was called “Folsom Prison Blues”, and it was only an original in the loosest possible sense. Before going off to Germany with the air force, Cash had seen a film called “Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison”, and it had given Cash the idea that someone should write a song about that. But he’d put the idea to the back of his mind until two other inspirations arrived. The first was a song called “Crescent City Blues”, which he heard on a Gordon Jenkins album that a fellow airman in Germany owned: [Excerpt: Gordon Jenkins (Beverly Maher vocals): “Crescent City Blues”] If you’ve not heard that song before, and are familiar with Cash’s work, you’re probably mildly in shock right now at just how much like “Folsom Prison Blues” that is. Jenkins’ song in turn is also strongly inspired by another song, also titled “Crescent City Blues”, by the boogie-woogie pianist Little Brother Montgomery: [Excerpt Little Brother Montgomery, “Crescent City Blues”] The second musical inspiration for Cash’s prison song was a song by Cash’s idol, Jimmie Rodgers, “Blue Yodel #1”, also known as “T For Texas”: [Excerpt: Jimmie Rodgers, “Blue Yodel #1”] The line “I’m gonna shoot poor Thelma, just to see her jump and fall” hit Cash hard, and he realised that the most morally bankrupt person he could imagine was someone who would kill someone else just to watch them die. He put this bleak amorality together with the idea of a song about Folsom, and changed just enough of the words to “Crescent City Blues” that it worked with this new concept of the character, and he titled the result “Folsom Prison Blues”: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash, “Folsom Prison Blues”] 9) Sam Phillips didn’t think that was suitable as the B-side to “Hey Porter”, and they eventually went for a sad song that Cash had written titled “Cry Cry Cry,” but “Folsom Prison Blues” was put aside as a future possibility. When the contract was drawn up, the only person who was actually signed to Sun was Cash – Phillips didn’t want to be tied to the other two musicians. But while only Cash was signed to the label, they split the money more or less equitably, in a forty-thirty-thirty split (other sources say that the split was completely equal). “Hey Porter” and “Cry Cry Cry” both charted, and “Folsom Prison Blues” became Cash’s second single, and one of the songs that would define him for the rest of his career. It went to number four on the country and western chart, and established him as a genuine star of country music. It’s around this time that Sun signed Carl Perkins, which caused problems. Cash resented the way that he was being treated by Phillips as being less important than Perkins. He thought that Phillips was now only interested in his new star, and wasn’t going to bother promoting Cash’s records any more. This would be a recurring pattern with Phillips over the next few years — he would discover some new star and whoever his previous favourite was would be convinced that Phillips no longer cared about them any more. This is ultimately what led to Sun’s downfall, as one by one his discoveries moved on to other labels that they believed valued them more than Phillips did. Phillips, on the other hand, always argued that he had to put in more time when dealing with a new discovery, because he had to build their career up, and that established artists would always forget what he’d done for them when they saw him doing the same things for the next person. That’s not to say, though, that Cash disliked Perkins. Quite the contrary. The two became close friends — though Cash became even closer with Clayton Perkins, Carl’s wayward brother, who had a juvenile sense of humour that appealed to Cash. Cash even co-wrote a song with Perkins, “All Mama’s Children”, which became the B-side to Perkins’ “Boppin’ the Blues”: [Excerpt, Carl Perkins, “All Mama’s Children”] It’s not the greatest song either man ever wrote, by any means, but it was the start of a working relationship that would continue off and on for decades, and which both men would benefit from significantly. By this point, Cash had started to build a following, and as you might expect given his inspiration, he was following the exact same career path as Elvis Presley. He was managed by Elvis’ first proper manager, Bob Neal, and he was given a regular slot on the Louisiana Hayride, the country music radio show that Elvis had built his reputation on. But this meant that Cash was being promoted alongside Carl Perkins, as a rock and roll star. This would actually do wonders for Cash’s career in the long term. A lot of people who wouldn’t listen to anything labeled country were fans of Cash in the mid fifties, and remained with him, and this meant that his image was always a little more appealing to rock audiences than many other similar singers. You can trace a direct line between Cash being promoted as a rock and roller in 1955 and 56, and his comeback with the American Recordings series more than forty years later. But when Cash brought in a new song he’d written, about his struggle while on the road to be true to his wife (and, implicitly, also to his God), it caused a clash between him and Sam Phillips. That song was quite possibly inspired by a line in “Sixteen Tons”, the big hit from Tennessee Ernie Ford that year, which Cash fell in love with when it came out, and which made Cash a lifelong fan of its writer Merle Travis: [Excerpt: “Sixteen Tons”, Tennessee Ernie Ford] He never made the connection publicly himself, but that image of walking the line almost definitely stuck in Cash’s mind, and it became the central image of a song he wrote while on the road, thinking about fidelity in every sense. “I Walk the Line” was the subject of a lot of debate between Cash and Phillips, neither of whom were entirely convinced by the other’s argument. Cash was sure that the song was a good one, maybe the best song he ever wrote, but he wanted to play it as a slow, plaintive, lovelorn ballad. Phillips, on the other hand, wasn’t so impressed by the song itself, but he thought that it had some potential if it was sped up to the kind of tempo that “Hey Porter”, “Cry Cry Cry” and “Folsom Prison Blues” had all been performed in — a rock and roll tempo, for Cash’s rock and roll audience. Give it some rhythm, and some of the boom-chika-boom, and there might be something there. Cash argued that he didn’t need to. After all, the other song he had brought in, one that he cared about much less and had originally written to give to Elvis, was a rock and roll song. The lyrics even went “Get rhythm if you get the blues”: [Excerpt: Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two: “Get Rhythm”] That song itself would go on to become a hit for Cash, and a staple of his live shows, but Phillips didn’t see a reason why, just because one side of the record was uptempo, the other shouldn’t be as well. He wanted the music to be universal, rather than personal, and to his mind a strong rhythm was necessary for universality. They eventually compromised and recorded two versions, a faster one recorded the way Phillips wanted it, and a slower one, the way Cash liked it. Cash walked out convinced that Phillips would see reason and release the slower version. He was devastated to find that Phillips had released the faster version. Cash later said, “The first time I heard it on the radio, I called him and said, ‘I hate that sound. Please don’t release any more records. I hate that sound.’ ” But then the record became a massive hit, and Cash decided that maybe the sound wasn’t so bad after all. It went to number one on the country jukebox chart, made the top twenty in the pop charts, and sold more than two million copies as a single. Phillips had unquestionably had the right instincts, commercially at least. [Excerpt: Johnny Cash, “I Walk The Line”] “I Walk The Line” has a very, very, unusual structure. There’s a key change after every single verse. This is just not something that you do, normally. Most pop songs will either stay in one key throughout, have a different key for different sections (so they might be in a minor key for the verse and a major key for the chorus, for example) or have one key change near the end, to give the song a bit of a kick. Here, the first verse is in F, then it goes up a fourth for the second verse, in B flat. It goes up another fourth, to E flat, for the third verse, then for the fourth verse it’s back down to B flat, and the fifth verse it’s back down to F, though an octave lower. (For those wondering about those keys, either they’re playing with capoes or, more likely, Sam Phillips sped the track up a semitone to make it sound faster.) And this is really very, very, clever in the way it sets the mood of the song. The song starts and ends in the same place both musically and lyrically — the last verse is a duplicate of the first, though sung an octave lower than it started — and the rising and falling overall arc of the song suggests a natural cycle that goes along with the metaphors in the lyrics — the tides, heartbeats, day and night, dark and light. The protagonist of the song is walking a thin line, wobbling, liable at any moment to fall over to one side or another, just like the oscillation and return to the original tonal centre in this song. What sounds like a relatively crude piece of work is, when listened to closely, a much more inventive record. And this is true of the chord sequences in the individual verses too. The verses only have three chords each — the standard three chords that most country or blues songs have, the tonic, subdominant and dominant of the key. But they’re not arranged in the standard order that you’d have them in, in a three-chord trick or a twelve-bar blues. Instead the verses all start with the dominant, an unusual, unstable, choice that came about from Cash having once threaded a tape backwards and having been fascinated by the sound. The dominant is normally the last chord. Here it’s the first. The backwards tape is also one story as to where he got the idea of the humming that starts every verse — though Cash also used to claim that the humming was so he could find the right note because there were so many key changes. This is not a song that’s structured like a normal country and western song, and it’s quite an extraordinarily personal piece of work. It’s an expression of one man’s very personal aesthetic, no matter how much Sam Phillips altered it to fit his own ideas of what Cash should be recording. It’s an utterly idiosyncratic, utterly *strange* record, and a very strong contender for the best thing Sun Records ever put out, which is a high bar to meet. The fact that this sold two million copies in a country market that is usually characterised as conservative shows just how wrong such stereotypes can be. It was a masterpiece, and Johnny Cash was set for a very, very, long and artistically successful career. But that career wouldn’t be with Sun. His life was in turmoil, the marriage that he had written so movingly about trying to keep together was falling apart, and he was beginning to think that he would do better doing as Elvis had and moving to a major label. Soon he would be signed to Columbia, the label where he would spend almost all his career, but we’ll have one last glimpse of him at Sun. before he went off to Columbia and superstardom, in a future episode. And next week, we’ll look at how Elvis was doing away from Sun.

This Episode Is Combination of Ranting About The ‘Its Ok Nutrition Movement’, Some Questions & Answers, and Tangent Chasing…All Because It’s Just Me On The Pod Today So There’s No Guest To Keep Me Focused!  Topics Include… The Slippery Slope of ‘Everything’s Ok’ Weight Loss Tourists Around This Time of Year  Low Back Pain From Swings, Deadlifts, and Lifting Weights  Should Kids Lift Weights or Will It Ruin Their Lives  Best & Worst Concerts of 2018  Where Most People Are Being Trapped With Nutrition  Not Realizing You’ve Suddenly Gained 20lbs  A Vulnerability In Loss of Control, Butternut Squash, Long Breaks, Get Rhythm,… And More!  Interested In Weekly FREE Email Full of Good Reads, Schedules, and A Ton Of Tips, Ideas, and Ways To Increase Health, Fitness, and Happiness Delivered Right To Your Email Instead Of Checking All Over The Place? Me Too!! Sign Up Below And Sit Back and Keep Living The Good Life! http://zaratefitness.us10.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=bd5db6ad085f2ab63066ec43d&id=6af1b1391a

Mike Lueken - Matthew 11:28-30

Bix Beiderbecke was one of the first great legends of jazz, but his recording career lasted just six years. A book by Brendan Wolfe, Finding Bix: The Life and Afterlife of a Jazz Legend, connects Beiderbecke's music, history, and legend.

Kevin Bartram is the Indiana Jones of music. He's diving into archives at the Library of Congress in search of never-before-heard American compositions. We also hear from celebrated poet Tim Seibles about his new collection, author Brendan Wolfe on jazz legend Biz Beiderbecke, and musician Jacqueline Secoy on the subtle wonder of the common ukelele.

No episódio 34 da meia hora mais valiosa do seu dia, o podcast do Carreirasolo.org, os sobrinhos são analisados, entendidos e mostrados em sua essência mais básica: os profissionais que, por pressa ou pressão, não investem em sua formação. Como resultado temos mais do que projetos inconclusos ou soluções de prateleira, o próprio mercado fica prejudicado com clientes culpando toda uma categoria pela incapacidade de uns poucos. Mauro Amaral, Humberto Oliveira e Carolina Vigna-Maru deixam claro que não se trata de fechar a porta para quem está começando, tem sobrinho com 20 anos de estrada. Mesmo que seja só para engolir poeira. Antes de mais nada, e no mais profundo de sua metáfora criadora, esse episódio é sobre a importância de se estar sempre estudando e se renovando. Ao contrário do que possa parecer o estado de “sobrinhês” é o oposto da pouca idade. É um manter-se sempre nascendo de novo, mas com a humildade das crianças verdadeiras. Referências: O Plus10, que analisou o FalaFreela e outros podcasts O FalaFreela agora tem twitter, no www.twitter.com/falafreela Matisse e Tarsila do Amaral, alguns dos artistas que começaram bem tarde Hiro Kawahara, o ilustrador das toalinhas do McDonalds e o NerdCast em que ele foi entrevistado OST: Durante o episódio você ouviu faixas selecionadas de três álbuns. Abrimos com Faraway Land (Alison Krauss Alive), seguimos com leitura de e-mails e bloco 1 com Soir de Fete e Pas Si Simple (OST de Amelie, Yann Tiersen), bloco 2 com Get Rhythm (Ry Cooder), bloco 3 com Tribute to Peador O'Donnell (Alison Krauss Alive) e fechando com a música de abertura novamente. Espero que tenham gostado! O que você pode fazer para participar: Publique seu perfil ou post no Carreirasolo.org: Página de publicação Envie e-mail de voz, sua dúvida ou sugestão para: carreirasolo.org@gmail.com Assine no iTunes: http://feeds.feedburner.com/FalaFreela

"Internet Connection" (Tony Senghore Remix) - M.I.A. "I Want It Now" - Gina Star vs. Queen "Rock and Roll (Will Take You To the Mountain)" - Skrillex "Some Chords" - Deadmau 5 "Hypnotize U" (Alex Metric Remix) - N.E.R.D. "Young Folks" - Travolta Moroder vs. Peter Bjorn and John "Do The Stomp" (Spank Rock Club Mix) - The Snowdroppers "D.J." - David Bowie vs. Benny Benassi "In The Shade" - The Breeders vs. Dan McKie "Blue Suede Shoes" (Melody J Extended Mix) - Steve Forest vs. Elvis Presley "Hit The Road Jack" (Gary Caos Mix) - Ray Charles "Get Rhythm" (Wawa Mix) - Johnny Cash "More Than This" - Jasper Forks "One Life Stand" (Carl Craig Remix) - Hot Chip "White Rabbit" - Jefferson Airplane vs. Zoned Out