It turned my memory back to Toronto’s Yorkville Village in the late 60’s where I first heard the song in a little café called The Mousehole, which was owned/managed by Bernie and Patti Fiedler, the owners of The Riverboat.
Although I had played in bands for quite a few years I had a strong yen to become a solo performer. I used to go there to listen to the singers and learn their songs and imagine that it was me up on the stage entertaining. Most of the singers I saw there played traditional folk & blues so it was a great classroom for a budding troubadour.
St. James Infirmary was being played by a great local singer named Al Cromwell (thanks David) and I remember staying afterwards and asking him to show me the chords. He very generously sat me down and walked me through all the parts, including the very bluesy riff he played separating verses, and I think he also wrote down the words for me. (And this after a two-hour set of songs.)
There is a great Wikipedia article on the history of the song at:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._James_Infirmary_Blues
I remember going back to my little rooming house, picking up my guitar and practicing the song until the chords settled into my memory and sore fingertips. It became an integral part of my early repertoire.
These are the lyrics he taught me (as closely as I can remember):
I went down to old Joe's bar room,
on the corner by the square
Well, the drinks were bein' served as usual,
and all the usual crowd was there
When in walked Big Joe McKennedy,
and his eyes were bloodshot red
He said boys I'm gonna tell you a story,
and this is what he said:
I went down to the St. James infirmary,
and I saw my sweet baby there
She was stretched out on a long white table,
so naked, so cold, and so bare.
Let her go, let her go, God bless her, wherever she may be
She can search this wide world over,
and she'll never find a man like me
When I die Oh lord please bury me
In a milk white stetson hat
Put a 20 dollar gold piece on my watch chain
So the boys will know I died standing pat
Sixteen coal black horses, hitched to a rubber-tired hack
Took thirteen down to the graveyard
Only twelve of them are coming back
Well, now that you've heard my story,
boys, have another round of booze
And if anyone should ever happen to ask you,
tell them...
I've got the St. James...
infirmary...
blues!
This is one of the first songs I remember playing well enough to perform on guitar along with Ewan MacColl’s The First Time (from the recording by Roberta Flack), Everybody’s Talking (by Harry Nilsson, The Theme to the film Midnight Cowboy) and The Mommas & Poppas California Dreamin’.
It is all just yesterday!
4 comments:
aba
I don't remember you singing that song but I sure remember a lot of other things. I remember you playing
Fascination on the tuba. I remember you marching as lead drummer in the sea cadets. I remember you singing
"Don't let the sun catch you crying"
specifically and many other non-specific songs from the sixties. I remember the Sunday night jam sessions in our kitchen.
Whenever I look back on those days, the music in our home seems like such a blessing.
Whenever you sent your music back to us, we also sat around listenign to your creations. We thought you were great. We still do. Your healing music has brought me back to where I need to be so many times.
I second that emotion! Although the tune I remember wafting down the stairs on Rosser Road was "It's Pink and Cherry Apple Blossom Time" and I thought it was played on a French Horn? I could be wrong though, stranger things have happened.
Love Jeannie
My first wife and lady, Iman Agi, loved Roberta Flack and "The First Time" was our song. I also remember it from Gordon Lightfoot's first album, and I'm not clear on who wrote it. Do you know?
Iman Agi was a beautiful, wide-eyed hippie girl who went on to become a spiritual teacher. Unfortunately, in order to do that, she had to leave me. Once in a while I would get a postcard from Turkey, Afghanistan, or India, and her love would once again shine on me!
We saw Roberta Flack in concert at the Village Gate in the late sixties. Then we packed up and moved to Canada! I would have loved to be a fly on the wall to hear you singing that song and the others in your early repertoire!
Love,
Csaba
Here in Portland, Oregon, we're about to do probably the most unusual and elaborate rendition of "St. James Infirmary": a series of 11 original Halloween scripts -- set in hospitals, bars, haunted houses, a Civil War military hospital, etc. -- inspired by the song, accompanied by a 7 piece band (string trio and jazz quartet) and a vocalist to sing the various verses over the course of the show. The musical conductor has scored the entire show with variations of "St. James Infirmary," from dirge to upbeat charleston:
http://www.radiowork.com/
I'm a little surprised not to see, in the Wikipedia entry or anywhere else, an aspect of the tune's history that is firmly lodged in my memory, though I don't know from where. It may have been from a radio biography of Louis Armstrong I heard on the Armed Forces Radio Network right after his death in 1971. What I remember hearing is that in a traditional New Orleans funeral, a band would play the slow-moving, mournful "St. James" on the way to the cemetery, then after the deceased was buried, it would lead the procession back to town with the much more joyful "Oh, Didn't He Ramble" to start the memorial party.
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