Because it’s Sunday night and I felt like a Woody Guthrie song.
|By: Kevin Gosztola Monday December 17, 2012 4:36 pm|
Legendary folk singer and songwriter Woody Guthrie wrote a song called the “1913 Massacre” about a a tragedy believed to have taken place on December 24, 1913, in the Italian Hall in Calumet, Michigan. Hundreds of striking copper miners and their families were in the Hall for a Christmas party when someone shouted, “Fire!”
|By: Kit OConnell Wednesday July 11, 2012 1:37 pm|
The 99 Mile March, led by Tom Morello’s Guitarmy, began in Philadelphia in honor of the National Gathering. They also marched to honor the great folk music hero Woody Guthrie’s 100th birthday. After marching all the way to New York City over several days, the march from Staten Island has grown into a massive crowd
|By: Glenn W. Smith Sunday January 22, 2012 9:30 am|
When then-President Richard Nixon sat down at the piano on the stage of the Grand Old Opry in 1974, he was reinforcing a conservative, polemical wall of sound to help contain several decades of transformational popular music, from blues and jazz to rock & roll. Music was the last thing on his mind.
As part of his notorious race-based “southern strategy,” Nixon led the efforts of conservative elites to co-opt American country-western music. He got the idea from George Wallace’s 1968 campaign, which Wallace had filled with country stars like Hank Snow and Hank Williams Jr.
|By: Glenn W. Smith Sunday January 15, 2012 9:30 am|
Alone in the walnut-paneled music room, his favorite of Fair Lane Mansion’s 56 rooms, automobile tycoon Henry Ford picks up one of his two Stradivarius violins. It is 1920 or so and Henry, cocooned in his woolen three-piece suit despite the summer heat, stretches his bow arm for a little elbow and shoulder room.
Henry plucks the A string uncertainly, then steps to the grand piano at the far end of the room and searches the keyboard for A. Counting forward on the white keys from Middle C – C, D, E, F, G, A – he pokes at the A, then plucks the A string of his violin again. His ear hears the same pitch. Unison, they call it, a good name for the sound of happy hands on his assembly line. He plucks the other strings and touches a couple of tuning pegs lightly, but doesn’t adjust them. Close enough.