When you hear the same
message several times in one day, maybe it's a good idea to pay
attention.
My wife and I, with
another couple, drove from Colorado Springs to the small town of La
Veta. There we rode the Rio Grande Scenic Railway to their “Mountain
Rails Live” concert near the summit of La Veta Pass.
We listened first to Dana
and Susan Robinson, folksingers and songwriters from Asheville, North
Carolina. Cowboy and country singer Michael Martin Murphey
(“Wildfire”; “Carolina in the Pines”) headlined the show.
Having long been
professional musicians, both the Robinsons and Murphey have
experienced the tension of trying to:
● make
a living at their craft
● please
audiences
● satisfy
demands of publishers
● communicate
their own messages
Like many folksingers, the
Robinsons followed in the tradition of using their lively
narrative music to alert and inspire people to the need for change.
One of their songs, “What Would Woody Do?” drew on the example of
Woody Guthrie (born in 1912 and the author of hundreds of songs,
including “This Land Is Your Land”).
What
would Woody do?
Write
about it,
Talk
about it,
Sing
about it too.
Murphey played songs from
throughout his career, including when he wanted to sing encouraging
love songs—in contrast to the lyin' and cheatin' songs that filled
the country charts. Recounting his struggle to find positive
lyrics—and to convince producers that such music would sell—Murphey
paraphrased Woody Guthrie's philosophy that he never wanted to sing
songs that made people feel worse.
Back home I found the full
Guthrie quote, transcribed from one of his concerts:
“I hate a song that makes you think that you are not
any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born
to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing.
Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim or too
ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at
you on account of your bad luck or hard traveling. I am out to fight
those songs to my very last breath of air and my last drop of blood.
I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world
and that if it has hit you pretty hard and knocked you for a dozen
loops, no matter what color, what size you are, how you are built, I
am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in
your work. And the songs that I sing are made up for the most part by
all sorts of folks just about like you. I could hire out to the other
side, the big money side, and get several dollars every week just to
quit singing my own kind of songs and to sing the kind that knock you
down still farther and the ones that poke fun at you even more and
the ones that make you think that you've not got any sense at all.
But I decided a long time ago that I'd starve to death before I'd
sing any such songs as that. The radio waves and your movies and your
jukeboxes and your songbooks are already loaded down and running over
with such no good songs as that anyhow.”
In the early 1980s Murphey
found and recorded such a counter-cultural love song, “What's
Forever For” (by Rafe VanHoy), and it spent sixteen weeks in the
top forty. He followed it with “A Long Line of Love,” by Dove
award-winner Paul Overstreet and Thom Schuyler, which also reached
number one on the country charts.
Murphey didn't preach. He
spoke of his own experiences, his struggles, his convictions--then
followed those statements with uplifting songs. Appropriate to the
venue, he closed with “This Train Is Bound for Glory” and “Life Is Like a Mountain Railroad (by M. E. Abbey and Charles Davis
Tillman):
Life
is like a mountain railroad, with an engineer that's brave;
We must make the run successful, from the cradle to the grave;
Watch the curves, the fills, the tunnels; never falter, never quail;
Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.
We must make the run successful, from the cradle to the grave;
Watch the curves, the fills, the tunnels; never falter, never quail;
Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.
Refrain:
Blessed Savior, Thou wilt guide us,
Till we reach that blissful shore;
Where the angels wait to join us
In Thy praise forevermore.
Blessed Savior, Thou wilt guide us,
Till we reach that blissful shore;
Where the angels wait to join us
In Thy praise forevermore.
I came home wanting to
“write about it, talk about it, sing about it too.”
6 comments:
Love those songs, Andy. Mother & I used to sing "Life is Like a Mountain Railroad" when I was little. She sang melody and I sang alto. Hadn't thought of that in a long time. Thank you.
And thank you for sharing Murphey's writing philosophy. It's takes a lot of conviction to stick to your guns when you could get rich doing the opposite. Given the books that are selling today, I guess we, as Christian fiction writers, are doing the same.
Thanks for the encouragement.
Thank you Andy. This post was very encouraging. A song to me.
The song is especially fitting right before you're about to get on a literal train that's fixing to twist around mountainsides.
Thanks for talking about it and singing about.
When my son married, I chose "A Long Line of Love" for our special dance at the reception. So appropriate, and so hopeful. I hope to write that way, too!
I recall that some time back you mentioned a story of your own that you were developing. I'll look forward to seeing how you incorporate these good points into your work.
Blessings to you.
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