CD Notes

JOURNEY
The Journey …
The Jux Tap—
Home of Music Village,
Sarzanna, Italy
R
obert Hilburn, writing in the
Los Angeles Times in January 2000 when I released my
album Woody Guthrie and Songs of
My Oklahoma Home, said, “Talley is a
country-minded artist whose underdog, blue-collar sensibility two decades
ago conveyed such character and
detail that he reminded you of Merle
Haggard as a writer and Willie Nelson
as a singer—qualities that should have
made him a star.” To Robert Hilburn’s
credit, he was one of my early supporters back in the mid 1970s, when
my albums on Capitol Records were
first released. In fact, in March 1976,
he devoted an entire page in the Times’
Calendar Section to my second album,
Tryin’ Like The Devil. But as most of
you who will read this essay and hear
this album know, I am not a “star”—I
never was, and I probably never will be.
In fact, over the past twenty years, since
I left Capitol Records at the end of the
1970s—although I have continued to
write and perform, and have continued
to release albums for my fans around
the world—I have made most of my
living, and supported my family, in
the real estate business in Nashville,
Tennessee.
I have told the whole story of the
demise of my music career before, in
the notes to my Nashville City Blues
album, so there is no need to repeat
the whole affair here. But to make it
short: I left Capitol at the advice and
urging of an unscrupulous manager,
who then abandoned me. That story is
certainly not unique to me in the music
business. This business is rife with such
sad tales. Capitol’s executives were
understandably quite upset when I
chose to leave. They had spent, for that
time, a considerable sum of money on
me. I had issued four albums for them,
and I still owed them three more under
my contract.
To emphasize their dissatisfaction, they
made sure that all my albums were
promptly deleted from their cata-
log—something in my youthful naiveté
I had never anticipated—and they
remain out of print to this day, except
as custom CD issues on my website.
In the years after I left Capitol, without
their powerful marketing support or
the albums remaining in print, my
musical career crashed like a plane shot
out of the sky. And one thing in life is
certain, if you can’t make your living
from music, and you like to eat with
some regularity, you’ve got to make it
some other way.
I had been gone from Capitol about
five years and was struggling, when
completely by accident I was offered
the opportunity to enter the real estate
business. The thing that is so hard to
accept and understand when you are
living through your dreams being
crushed, is that there is really nothing
wrong with working at another job
apart from music. It’s no disgrace. It’s
honest. In fact, that is the way it used
to be. Working people, not professional
musicians, made much of the world’s
most heartfelt and inspiring music.
It also keeps you humble and builds
character. If you can withstand the hard
times, it makes the good times that
much sweeter; and you finally do begin
to understand that maybe you really
are an artist, and not some marketing
fabrication of the music business. It’s
just hard to see it that way sometimes,
when you’re the one standing out in the
rain. But I’ll guarantee you, everyone
who is in the music business today, was,
at some point, in some other business
first. Unless you happen to be born
into it, no one starts out in the music
business.
The real estate business is pure capitalism; you get paid when you produce
a result. It certainly was an unusual
place to wind up for someone with my
“Are They Gonna Make Us Outlaws
Again?” perspective. But I have always
had an entrepreneurial spirit. I have
dedicated most of my life to working at
something where I was not in the same
place, at the same time, and doing the
same thing each day. Real estate, if you
think about it, demands a lot of problem solving and creativity. It is a place
where someone with a college degree
in fine arts, and who once worked as a
carpenter, a horse wrangler, and a social
worker, could utilize all their talents.
Much that I had learned in the music
business about marketing and selling
was extremely useful in real estate. At
the time, I was very broke and totally
disappointed with the workings of the
music business, and I must admit: I was
also down on myself. The late 1970s
and early 1980s were a terrible time in
the United States, with interest rates
that climbed to over twenty percent.
There was inflation, recession, business
was bad, and the record labels were
not signing. They were sticking with
proven, established artists. And despite
trying in every way I knew, I failed
to attract another record company to
release my music. I was also one who
could never accept being something I
was not in order to be commercially
viable. I simply couldn’t do it. I had
come to Nashville as a songwriter
with something to say, and if I couldn’t
make music from the heart, and with
integrity, I would find another way to
make a living.
I entered the real estate business, and I
took every course I could to thoroughly
learn it. I was very absorbed—as I
needed to be to succeed—and I went
through a number of years without
writing a single song. But I could never
really give up my passion, my art—if I
may call it that—or my dreams. They
were always there in the background,
and I never thought of myself as
anything other than an artist. Over the
years I got pretty good at the real estate
business, and every now and then
there would be a little extra money that
would enable me to continue recording
my songs. In 2000, I started issuing my
work again on Cimarron Records, after
a twenty-year hiatus for a U.S. album
release.
I am amazed today, that so many
people—other artists, and music business people as well—have told me they
admire what I did: that I found another
way to make a living, and that I was not
at the mercy and whims of the music
business. I had kept my soul intact.
When I first heard someone express
that thought, I was sort of incredulous.
Did people really still respect my work,
even though I had failed to become the
“star” the early critics had predicted?
Bill Williams—who was head of radio
promotion at Capitol in Nashville when
I was there, and who also left the music
business and now runs a successful
building stone company in his hometown of Waco, Texas—reminded me
that the American composer Charles
Ives supported himself as an insurance adjuster. Bill said to me one time,
“You’ve always drawn your inspiration
from the ordinary people; it’s probably
a good thing that you left the music
business. It kept you more in touch
with the people.” I am not saying that
I would not love to have been a star
and had a financially successful career
as a performer. I do love performing
very much, and wish I could afford to
perform more often. I would be lying if
I said otherwise, for sharing is the final
link in the creative process. No one creates their art to have it sit in the closet;
art is meant to be shared—one heart to
another. Had the star thing happened,
it would have been great, I’m sure (and
it would surely have created another
different set of problems); but over
the years, I have discovered that what
really matters is that the songs speak
for themselves. They have a life of their
own. I have also learned that people do
seem to admire the fact that, despite
all, I have kept the faith and continued
to pursue my dreams and my vision.
Over the past few years, as I have been
performing more often, some devoted
fan will come up to me at each show
and say, “I’ve been waiting twenty-five
years to hear you perform.” That, my
friends, makes it all worthwhile.
T
his album, then, is one more
document in my journey—my
voyage through life—and in
this specific case, a journey to Italy with
some dear friends, where I had no idea
there were so many people aware of
my music. There are several of the old
signposts recorded here—the signature
songs with which I have traveled for
many years. As well, however, so that
it would also offer you, the listener,
something new, there are five new songs
included, as well as one of my favorites,
“La Rosa de la Montaña,” which is from
The Road To Torreón, my album about
the Hispanic culture of New Mexico.
These recordings were all recorded in
live performance, which is my preference as to the way I feel music should
be played and enjoyed. They were
recorded from three of four concerts we
performed in Italy in late October 2002.
The “we,” in this instance, were three
excellent musicians — Dave Pomeroy,
Mike Noble, and Gregg Thomas.
In 1994, the German Bear Family label
issued another live album of mine. It
was a collection of performances with
another excellent band, gleaned from
live show “board tapes.” It was originally recorded on high-quality cassettes
in 1979, at the Lone Star Café in New
York City, and at the Great Southeast
Music Hall in Atlanta. I was thirty-five
years old when I made those recordings. There was no mixing and very
little editing. The sonic quality was not
great, but there was a youthful energy
in those performances that can only be
captured in a live performance. I had
always wanted to record another live
album with better sonic quality, but it
was very difficult for me to assemble all
the pieces without major funding—the
band, the venue, the recording equipment and the personnel. Since every
performance is unique, and since some
nights are pretty good and some nights
are not so good, one needs to “assemble” a live album from a number of
performances, in order to truly present
the quality that is possible in your best
Music Village personnel
(left to right): Paolo Lusenti,
Umberto Bonnani, James
Talley, Jono Manson,
Simone Grassi
live performances. Until my invitation
to come to Italy and record this album,
however, the planets had not lined up
for me to accomplish it. But life goes
around, and the journey goes on, and
you never know what one thing may
lead to another.
In 1995, I went to Santa Fe, New
Mexico, to record the album that
became Nashville City Blues with my
old drummer, Gregg Thomas, and a
group of fine local New Mexico musi-
cians. For those recordings, Gregg
recruited a young electric guitar player
who was transplanted from New
York to New Mexico—and who is an
excellent singer-songwriter in his own
right—named Jono Manson. Over the
ensuing years, Jono began to travel to
Italy, where he found an appreciative
audience for his many musical talents.
Over the same period, and after the
release of my album, Woody Guthrie
and Songs of My Oklahoma Home, I
became friends with Paolo Carù, the
editor of the Italian music magazine
Buscadero, and with the Italian journalist Marco Denti. They had originally
found my work over a decade earlier,
when my album The Road To Torreón
was released in Europe. They told me I
had a growing audience for my work in
Italy. This was helped, of course by their
excellent features in Buscadero.
I had never been to Italy, and I had
wanted to go there ever since, as a fine
art major at the University of New
Mexico, I had studied Italian art in my
art history classes; but the opportunity had never presented itself. A few
Italian promoters had contacted me
previously about a possible tour, after
the aforementioned albums were
released, but the money was simply not
sufficient to even cover my expenses.
Since I am perfectly capable of losing
money right here in the United States,
I couldn’t see the point in flying across
the world to do it. (Yes, there are economics in everything, including music
and art.) People don’t always realize it,
but the booking and talent business has
nothing to do with talent; it has to do
with notoriety. You can shoot somebody, or do something outrageous, and
you will be on television. If you are
known by lots of people, you can be
booked. It may be for your talent, or
a freak show; but if people know who
you are, and you can draw a crowd of
fans or the curious, you are bookable.
If you have to rely only on your talent
alone, as Van Gogh would surely attest,
it may take a while.
In the spring of 2002, however, Jono
Manson contacted me. He was involved
with some promoters in Sarzanna, Italy,
a company called Music Village. They
were interested in having me come over
and play, and could guarantee me four
concerts in one week. They also wanted
to record a live album from the shows,
and they wanted me to bring American
musicians with me for the recordings.
We worked out the details, and I contacted Dave Pomeroy, the incredibly
talented Nashville bassist—simply one
of the best in the world—who was one
of my co-producers on the 1992 album,
The Road To Torreón. Dave Pomeroy
was born in Naples when his father was
there in the service, but he had never
been back to Italy since he was a baby.
Dave recruited Mike Noble, one of
Nashville’s best studio guitarists, who it
turned out was the perfect complement
to my songs. Mike Nobel had actually lived in Italy a couple of decades
earlier, when as a young man he was
stationed there in the U.S. Air Force.
I called Gregg Thomas, who came in
from California to play drums. Gregg
had played with me on and off since
we recorded my first album together
in 1973. Greg, like me, had never been
to Italy. The four of us rehearsed a
few days in Nashville and then flew to
Milano, where an engaging young man
named Paolo Lusenti, of the Music Village, met us and we started our tour.
The first night Paolo drove us to Sarzanna, over on the west coast of Italy.
Jono Manson was already there. Jono
would be the recording engineer, and
one of the executive producers for the
shows, along with Simone Grassi of
Music Village. Simone owned the Jux
Tap nightclub in Sarzanna, and was a
principal in the Music Village production company. Umberto Bonanni, also
of Music Village, would be our tour
manager for the trip. Umberto had an
unflappable disposition and handled
every detail and every little crisis. All of
them went out of their way to extend
a most gracious hospitality to us, far
beyond any expectation. The band,
I know, will always remember our
first night in Sarzanna. Simone and
company provided us with such an
incredible Italian dinner, complete with
all the many courses and all the trimmings. It was my introduction to the
very justifiable passion that the Italians
have for their food. And what wonderful food it is! My great-grandmother on
my mother’s father’s side of the family,
Florence Trivoli, was from Italy. I have
loved Italian food my whole life, so this
Paolo and Anna Carù
was definitely something special. And
the wine! Dave Pomeroy commented
to me at one point on the trip, “Red
wine will never taste the same.” We
continued this moveable feast for the
entire trip. I must say, I never had a bad
meal in Italy.
Our first performance was in Florence.
It was a difficult-sounding room. The
band was still a little tentative, and I
was somewhat ill with a respiratory
bug I had picked up on the flight over.
Still, I was amazed at how gracious the
audience was, and I was moved when
after the show I met several people who
had brought copies of my old Capitol
Records albums from twenty-five
years ago to have them autographed.
Some of the audience, in fact, had
driven several hundred kilometers to
the performance. The second night we
were back at the Jux Tap in Sarzanna.
This was a much more intimate venue,
and I was also feeling better. After the
camaraderie of the first night, it was a
great feeling to be back in that warm,
comfortable room. The Mackie audio
equipment representative was there
also, as Mackie graciously donated
its equipment to record the last three
performances. I was again amazed
and humbled by the turnout—several
hundred people showed up in a land so
far from my home, where I had no idea
anyone was interested in this music.
The audience not only knew the titles
of the songs they wanted to hear, which
they called out to us, but they actually
knew the lyrics and sang along!
For the third concert we traveled to
Gallarate, just outside of Milano. This is
an incredibly beautiful town, and is the
home of Paolo Carù and his wife Anna.
They own the famous Carù Book and
Record shop (www.caru.com) in the
picturesque old downtown section of
the city. It is one of the best shops of
its kind in Italy—a custom “mom and
pop,” filled with an incredible selection
of American music and with their love
and passion for it. Paolo and Anna had
been to Nashville earlier in the year,
where my wife, Jan, and I had gotten to
know them even better. They are simply
wonderful folks and they are true
mavens of American music in Italy.
Anna is an excellent photographer, as
well, and took many of the photographs
in this CD. Carlo Carlini sponsored the
Gallarate performance. Carlo has been
promoting American singer-songwriters for years in Italy. The words most
often heard in reference to Carlo are
that he is “a real character”; but Carlo
knows his music. The show was held in
a beautiful little theatre, Teatro Nuovo;
and again, I was amazed by the turnout
and the audience’s foreknowledge of
my music. At this performance I was
able to meet Marco Denti for the first
time. He is a fine music journalist who
has supported my work in Italy for
so many years. Marco wrote a very
moving introduction to my Woody
Guthrie tribute album when it was
released in January 2000.
Jane Weber, James Talley, and Marco Denti
The fourth performance was in Chiari,
another small, beautiful town. Franco
Mazzotti sponsored this performance.
Franco, I learned, had been a fan for
over twenty-five years, and had been
waiting that long to see me perform.
Franco offered to take the band and
me out to dinner, but I explained that
I cannot eat before a performance, so
he arranged to have a local restaurant
stay open late for us. After the show,
we had another wonderful meal, the
participants growing to probably thirty
or more people; and like I said, there is
apparently no bad food or wine in Italy.
At the Chiari performance, also, Jane
Weber and his girlfriend, Lilly, drove
over from neighboring Slovenia. Jane
is another fine European journalist
and radio programmer, who wrote an
introduction to my Woody Guthrie
album when it was released in 2000. It
was a real pleasure to introduce him
to Marco Denti, and for all three of us
to be together there in Chiari. Dave
Pomeroy, a man after my own heart,
with a love of shoes rivaling Imelda
Marcos, of course was able to buy a
pair of Italian shoes in Chiari. Does
it sound like we were having a good
time? I hope so, because it truly was a
fantastic trip. The Italians are beautiful,
gracious hosts; and their language is so
melodic, it is like music to hear them
speak: Bella! Bella! Bella! They sound
like they are singing.
After the performances ended, the
band flew home and my wife, Jan, flew
over to meet me—God bless those
American Airlines Frequent Flyer
Miles—and we spent another two
weeks traveling to Tuscany, Rome,
Florence and Venice. The story of those
adventures is too long tao go into here;
but you can bet that I spent all the
money I made, and then some! The
last night we reconnected with Paolo
and Anna Carù in Gallarate. Franco
Mazzotti and his wife drove over from
Chiari and we all had a wonderful parting meal together.
***
A
fter I returned home and
received the Mackie hard
drives from Jono Manson, I
decided to go to San Antonio and mix
the album with Tommy Detamore,
the incredible steel guitar player and
co-producer of my Touchstones album.
I had originally hoped to take Tommy
over as a member of the band, but
the budget was simply too tight, so
I am glad that he had a hand in the
project in another capacity. When you
are working with digital information
there are always unforeseen problems
to solve, and we had our share; but
Tommy solved them all, and mixed
and edited the performances into what
you hear on this CD. I think he did a
masterful job.
So there you have it. That’s how it came
to be. Many old and new friends and
true believers took this journey with
me and made these recordings possible—musicians and co-producers with
whom I have worked, in some cases for
decades, and long-time appreciators
and supporters of my little stories and
dreams. As I write this, I have recently
turned sixty years old. I have been
writing and recording now for over
thirty-five years, and what a wonderful
feeling it is for others to honor your
work and help you share it. We may
not have made much money—me,
the musicians, the promoters, any of
us—but I have found that the things
in life that give you the greatest joy are
often not the things for which you are
well paid. You get paid well for doing
the things that nobody wants to do. The
day I returned home from Italy, I also
learned that Moby had recorded one of
my songs—a song I had written thirtyfour years ago, “Evening Rain”—an
adaptation of my song, “She’s The
One” from my second Capitol album.
It was in the movie soundtrack for
Daredevil, starring Ben Affleck, which
was released in February 2003. Moby
did a great job with the song, so here is
another generation discovering these
old songs. Thank you, Moby!
Over the years, I have come to understand that what you leave behind is
what is important; that is the record
of your journey here on Earth. Each
album along the way, each song that
reveals a piece of your heart, is part
of your passage, your journey. Many
of the music executives I started
out with, and who supported and
encouraged me, are no longer in the
business—John Hammond Sr., Jerry
Wexler, Frank Jones, Bill Williams and
others—but the songs live on. It thrills
me to perform these songs to new,
younger audiences, and to see them still
move people after all these years. This
life is all there is for each of us on this
Earth. It is not a dress rehearsal, folks.
This is it. It is important that you reach
out and embrace life, that you take the
journey. Sing your songs, make your
art, dream your dreams, whether you
become a star and are paid for it or not.
Van Gogh never sold a painting in his
lifetime. Thank God for the rest of us
he didn’t give up and quit painting. Be
James Talley in concert,
Gallarate, Italy
strong, find your voice, take chances, be
true to yourself, believe in something,
and carry on; but most importantly,
take the journey. Thank you for taking
this part of it with me!
James Talley
Nashville, Tennessee
January 2004
PERSONNEL
From left to right: Gregg Thomas, Paolo Carù, Dave Pomeroy, James Talley, Jono Manson,
Mike Noble, Umberto Bonnani
Dave Pomeroy: BSX-T4 Upright Electric Bass,
Harmony Vocals
Mike Noble: Fender Stratocaster Guitar
James Talley: Martin D-42K2 Acoustic Guitar, Vocals
Greg Thomas: Drums
Recorded in Italy by Jono Manson
Mixed and Edited by Tommy Detamore
Cherry Ridge Studio, Floresville, Texas
Produced By James Talley
An original Torreon Production,
for Cimarron Records, Inc.
Executive Producers: Jono Manson and
Simone Grassi, For Music Village Productions,
Sarzanna, Italy
Photography: Anna Carù, James Talley and others,
photo of Chief Joseph–Edwards S. Curtis,
cover photo–Anna Carù
Album concept design: Armour&Armour, Nashville
p2004 Cimarron Records, Inc.
p Torreon Productions 2003
P.O. Box 120722 • Nashville, TN 37212
www.cimarronrecords.com • www.jamestalley.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Dave Pomeroy, Mike Noble and
Gregg Thomas. Thanks to Tommy Detamore. Thanks to Jono Manson, Simone
Grassi, Paolo Lusenti, and Umberto
Bonanni of Music Village. Thanks to Paolo
and Anna Carù, and Marco Denti. Thanks
to Carlo Carlini and Franco Mazzotti.
Without any of the above this would not
have happened.
A further thanks to the following individuals for their assistance, friendship, and
support: Tom White, who has given me
invaluable guidance and support in record
distribution and marketing; David Lessoff
at Capitol Records Business Affairs, for
his unyielding support; Mary Watkins,
Chris Wolff, Jubel Young, and Rob Hill
for their help on the website; Jan Stinson,
Chris Armour, and Barry Edwards at
Armour&Armour Advertising; Sam Paris
and Steve Smith at We Make Tapes & CDs;
Bill Wence at Bill Wence Promotions;
Lance Cowan at LCMedia; Gary Eaton at
Capitol-EMI Special Markets; Jim Steinblatt at ASCAP; Dennis Flannigan and Jon
Tullis up in the Northwest; Robin Cohn,
Nina Dryer, and all the folks at City Hall
Records, who have distributed Cimarron
Records; Mark Hill at James Talley & Associates; and Wayne Rooks, David McGee,
Marc Greilsamer, Terry Currier, John and
Marty Marmaduke, Dan Friedman, Nora
Guthrie, Analee Canto, Rick Williams, Jay
Craik, Phil Mammano, Bob Knittel, Bob
Child, Dick and Gerri Sherlock, Cavalliere
Ketchum, Hans Ziemann, Walter Fuchs,
Jane Weber, Bill Friskics-Warren, Craig
Havighurst, Greg Johnson, Jerome Clark,
Connie Daugherty, Jack Tarver, Steve
Young, David Childers, Doyle Grisham,
Ben Montgomery, Herb White, Eric King.
Each has offered their heartfelt support.
And a special thanks to all those brave,
brave souls in radio, both in the U.S. and
abroad, who continue to play my music.
Thanks to my wife, Jan, and my sons, Justin
Louis and Reuben James. And of course my
two little “fur babies,” my little blue heelers,
Shiloh and Cheyenne. God bless you all!
And always, thanks to Peter Guralnick,
who ever reminds me to keep the faith!
11. WHEN I NEED SOME LOVE
12. I SAW THE BUILDINGS*
13. UP FROM GEORGIA
14. WE’RE ALL ONE FAMILY
* New Songs
All songs composed by James Talley
Published by Hardhit Music, BMI
* Published by Hardhit Songs, ASCAP
q 2003 Torreon Productions
m and q 2004 Cimarron Records, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
Mike Noble, James Talley, and Dave Pomeroy
SONGS
1. W. LEE O’DANIEL AND THE
LIGHT CRUST DOUGH BOYS
2. BLUESMAN
3. MY CHEROKEE MAIDEN*
4. THAT OLD MAGIC*
5. TRYIN’ LIKE THE DEVIL
6. SOMETIMES I THINK ABOUT
SUZANNE
7. LA ROSA MONTAÑA
8. THE SONG OF CHIEF JOSEPH*
9. RICHLAND, WASHINGTON
10. SOMEWHERE ON THE EDGE
OF THE WORLD*
James Talley with Fred Eaglesmith, our opening act in Gallarate
Mike Noble
Dave Pomeroy
DISCOGRAPHY
Other albums by James Talley now available
on Cimarron Records, Inc.
Visit our website, www.cimarronrecords.com,
and stay informed on upcoming issues and
reissues of James Talley albums.
Current issue Cimarron Records albums:
• TOUCHSTONES – Torreon Productions – 2002; Cimarron Records Issue
No. 1011
• NASHVILLE CITY BLUES
– Torreon Productions – 2000;
Cimarron Records Issue No. 1010
• WOODY GUTHRIE AND SONGS
OF MY OKLAHOMA HOME
– Torreon Productions - 1999;
Cimarron Records Issue No. 1009
James Talley in Gallarate, Italy
Catalog albums:
• GOT NO BREAD, NO MILK, NO
MONEY, BUT WE SURE GOT A
LOT OF LOVE – Original Capitol
Recordings –Torreon Productions
- 1975; Cimarron Records Issue
No. 1001
• TRYIN’ LIKE THE DEVIL – Original Capitol Records-Torreon Productions - 1976; Cimarron Recordings
Issue No. 1002
• BLACKJACK CHOIR – Original
Capitol Records-Torreon Productions
- 1977; Cimarron Recordings Issue No.
1003
• AIN’T IT SOMETHIN’ - Original
Capitol Records-Torreon Productions
- 1977; Cimarron Recordings Issue No.
1004
• AMERICAN ORIGINALS – Torreon
Productions - 1985; Originally released
without license by Bear Family
Records, Germany; Cimarron Records
Issue No. 1005
• LOVE SONGS AND THE BLUES
– Torreon Productions - 1989; Originally released without license by Bear
Family Records, Germany; Cimarron
Records Issue No. 1006
• THE ROAD TO TORREÓN
– Torreon Productions - 1992; Originally released without license by Bear
Family Records, Germany; Cimarron
Records Issue No. 1007
• JAMES TALLEY: LIVE – Torreon
Productions - 1994; Originally released
without license by Bear Family
Records, Germany; Cimarron Records
Issue No. 1008
q Torreon Productions 2003
q and n Cimarron Records, Inc. 2004
P.O. Box 120722 • Nashville, TN 37212
Cimarron Records Catalog No. 1012
www.cimarronrecords.com
www.jamestalley.com
Was in the town of Tulsa ‘bout thirty years ago
At Cain’s Academy down in old Oklahome’—
Well, the dust was blowin’ but the music was right, And W. Lee
O’Daniel played all night.
For the Light Crust Dough Boys and W. Lee O’Dan
We drove eighty miles through that blowin’ sand—
My ‘37 Chevy was a shootin’ steam
Comin’ up the hills just east of Pawnee.
But I wouldn’t miss a dance on Saturday night
For all of them Chevys in that Detroit line—
I can hear that music in my ears,
I’m ready to go and I’m shiftin’ them gears.
So just pass me the biscuits and give me your hand,
You know you’re my honey, and you know I’m your man—
Listen to the fiddler makin’ it sing
And hear the pretty notes of the guitar ring.
I got no troubles, I’m feelin’ no pain,
I got moonshine whisky down in my veins—
So let the Light Crust Dough Boys and Old Pappy Dan
Play us a song we’ll never forget. . . .
Now, they say times are rough and money is tight,
But I don’t care on Saturday night—
I got no money, but I can’t sing the blues,
When I feel like dancin’ down in my shoes.
Repeat first verse
TAG: W. Lee O’Daniel played all night.
© Copyright 1974 Hardhit Music - BMI
BLUESMAN
I’m the bluesman,
I’ve been around a long, long time;
I’ve heard the midnight whistle
Through the deltas of my mind;
I’ve seen the neon in Chicago
Paint a glow on Saturday night—
I’m the bluesman,
I’ve seen the wrong and I’ve seen the right.
I’m the bluesman,
I’ve got a million sad, sad songs,
From streamline flyers
To smoke-filled honky-tonks;
I’ve seen you workin’
I’ve seen you strainin’
Just tryin’ to get by—
I’m the bluesman,
And I can hear you when you cry.
It’s many a mile I’ve traveled,
Lord, it’s been that long, hard way—
So many dreams unraveled
’neath the burden and the weight.
Lord, you know it ain’t been easy,
But I wouldn’t have it no other way—
Yes, I’m the bluesman,
You can believe just what I say.
I’m the bluesman,
I was around when there was no hope;
When the flame was dyin’
You were lonesome and so low;
I’ve seen you cry,
I’ve seen you try,
I’ve seen the glory in your eyes—
Yes, I’m the bluesman,
And I know I can make it shine.
SONG LYRICS
W. LEE O’DANIEL AND
THE LIGHT CRUST DOUGH BOYS
Yes, I’m the bluesman,
And I know I can make it shine.
© Copyright Hardhit Music 1977 - BMI
MY CHEROKEE MAIDEN
THAT OLD MAGIC
I thought I’d come by
And see you once more,
I thought maybe that old magic
Is still around here somewhere—
I thought maybe that old magic is still around?
CHORUS: She’s my beautiful Cherokee maiden,
And she comes from sunny Tennessee;
My beautiful Cherokee Maiden,
And she is all the world to me.
Well, I think of you a lot
And the good times we had,
And now all those good times
Seem to far outweigh the bad—
Could it be that magic is what we had?
Well, I loved her the day I first met her,
With her dark eyes and bells on her sleeve,
She whispered to me in the moonlight,
And the earth moved beneath my feet.
Oh, they say that it’s greener
On the far side of the hill,
But I don’t care what they say,
I know what I feel,
And here in my heart, I need you still—
Could it be that old magic is real . . .
Could it be that old magic is what I feel?
CHORUS
Her eyes are like the stars in the heavens,
Her voice is like the wind through the trees,
Her body’s like the willow by the river,
That sways in the gentle summer breeze.
CHORUS
Well, I met her down on the reservation,
Where the Smoky Mountains reach up to the sky,
And I’ll hold her in my heart now forever;
And I’ll love her un til the day I die.
CHORUS
© Copyright 2002, Hardhit Songs, ASCAP
Well, I thought I’d come by
And see you once more,
I thought maybe that old magic
Is still around here somewhere—
I thought maybe that old magic is still around—
And maybe that old magic could be found?
© Copyright 1978 Hardhit Songs - ASCAP
Photo by Anna Carù
TRYIN’ LIKE THE DEVIL
Pot-bellied truckers drinkin’ coffee
With a red-headed waitress named Louise,
The jukebox is playin’ with the pinball machine,
A lonesome highway harmony —
And I’m reachin’ for the stars
In this honky-tonkin’ bar,
With a lot of lonely people just like me,
Tryin’ to forget all the things that I regret,
Just tryin’ like the devil to be free.
There’s midnight and the blues in the distance,
Whiskey in a glass and nights alone,
And I’ve lost so many dreams,
That I know what it means—
Just tryin’ like the devil to be free.
And Mama don’t you know
I’m just a workin’ man.
I try to make a livin’
With these two broken hands,
Well, maybe I’m the soul and the savior of this land,
But I’m still tryin’ like the devil to be free.
Like that pot-bellied trucker drinkin’ coffee,
Like that red-headed waitress named Louise,
I’m like every workin’ man, all across the land—
Just tryin’ like the devil to be free.
Just reachin’ for the stars in
this honky-tonkin’ bar
With a lot of lonely people just like me.
Tryin’ to forget all the things that I regret,
Just tryin’ like the devil to be free . . .
Just tryin’ like the devil to be free.
© Copyright Hardhit Music 1975 - BMI
SOMETIMES I THINK
ABOUT SUZANNE
Whiskey dreams and old freight trains,
Sundown south of Abilene,
The dusty roads remember me
Beneath that western sky—
Miles away from yesterday
And someone who cared for me,
Well, it seems like a simple thing
Until you’re all alone—
And sometimes I think about Suzanne,
And I wonder how the lady is;
That woman was the best I ever had—
And sometimes I just think about Suzanne.
And Suzanne, I didn’t mean to treat you bad,
Suzanne, those were reckless years;
Suzanne, I did the best I could—
Suzanne, I hope you can forgive.
Oh, my dusty shoes and my country blues
Don’t seem enough, but what’s the use—
That’s a song that everybody sings.
And I know, I’ve said it all before,
At least a million times or more,
And now it just smolders in my brain—
And sometimes I think about Suzanne,
And I wonder how the lady is;
That woman was the best I ever had—
And sometimes, I just think about Suzanne . . .
Sometimes, I just think about Suzanne . . .
TAG: And Suzanne, I didn’t mean to treat you bad.
© Copyright Hardhit Music 1975
Photo by
Cavalliere Ketchum
from The Road
to Torreón
LA ROSA MONTAÑA
They say I am a child of the mountain,
And last night they spoke of my mother . . .
La llaman La Rosa de la montaña,
They call her the rose of the mountain,
They call her the mountain rose.
I was born out of youth and beauty,
I was born out of youth unwanted,
And never have I seen my father,
I was left in a box by the road . . .
Mis abuelos me encontraron esa noche,
My grandparents found me that night.
Now in the forest hills I see my mother . . .
Rosa . . . Rosa . . .
And the autumn wind calls my father . . .
Lo quiero . . . Lo quiero . . .
I can see the churchyard from my window,
Where your grave wears the lace of the winter—
Di me Rosa . . . Tell me Rosa . . .
Si los ojos de me padre hablan de amor?
Rosa t pregunto . . . mother, I wonder
Le pediré a la Virgen que me proteja . . .
Yes, I will pray to the Virgin, protect me . . .
Yes, I will pray as my grandmother told me,
And someday, Rosa . . . perhaps I’ll have a daughter,
And perhaps she’ll be a mountain flower . . .
La llamaran La Rosa de la montaña . . .
They’ll call her the rose of the mountain.
© Copyright Hardhit Music 1969, 1991 - BMI
THE SONG OF CHIEF JOSEPH
I have no ponies left to ride,
There are no visions in my mind—
The sky is broken, the moon is down,
There is darkness—
I will pray to the morning star,
Pray that I might carry on—
Give me wisdom, give me life,
Give me courage—
Then one cold dawn in the Big Hole valley,
Their bullets came, in deadly volley—
So many died, I can’t remember,
We fought them off, and we rode on—
We crossed the Divide, and they came after,
Through the valleys into Yellowstone—
Down the steps of Clark’s Fork Canyon,
Through the land of the Crow, and up the Musselshell.
Once this great land was my home,
Where my people freely roamed—
Now the world is torn apart,
There is darkness—
We crossed the Missouri at Cow Island,
Twelve hundred miles we’d run and fought—
We headed north through the Bear Paw Mountains,
And it was there our luck ran out—
***
Five days and nights, we stood and fought them,
In the bitter wind, in the freezing snow—
We shot each other all to pieces,
‘till the food ran out, the ammunition gone—
My name is Joseph, this is my story:
I didn’t want fame, I didn’t seek glory,
My father’s land, I will defend it,
With my life, with my hands—
We were on our way to the reservation,
Forced to go, our homes abandoned—
My people’s hearts, they were breaking,
My young men killed, and a war was on—
The Army found us in White Bird Canyon,
We were camped on the Salmon River—
One hundred men, we did defeat them,
And away to death, to death we rode—
Day and night they pursued us,
Along the rivers, up the Bitterroot—
For young and old, the trail was brutal,
But we were running for our lives—
My heart was sick, sad and heavy,
Children freezing, so many gone—
I will fight no more, no more forever,
Where the sun now stands, I will fight no more.
I heard the thunder from the mountains,
I saw the blood, there on the plain—
I feel a sorrow never ending,
Among the tears, everlasting pain—
***
I have no ponies left to ride,
There are no visions in my mind—
The sky is broken, the moon is down,
There is darkness—
Chief Joseph
of the Nez Perce
I will pray to the morning star,
Pray that I might carry on—
Give me wisdom, give me life,
Give me courage—
Once this great land was my home,
Where my people freely roamed—
Now the world is torn apart,
There is darkness—
I will fight no more . . . I will fight no more . . .
No more forever.
© Copyright Hardhit Songs 2003 – ASCAP
Photo by
Edwards S. Curtis, 1903
RICHLAND WASHINGTON
I used to live in Richland, Washington;
My daddy worked at the Hanford plant.
My daddy came from Oklahoma,
He made plutonium at the Hanford plant.
He made plutonium in Richland, Washington;
He bought our groceries, he paid our rent,
It was a pretty little town, that Richland, Washington
Where my daddy worked at the Hanford plant.
I started school in Richland, Washington,
Where my daddy worked at the Hanford plant.
There were apple trees up there in Washington,
Columbia River, Grand Coulee Dam,
We went to church in Richland, Washington
Where my daddy worked at the Hanford plant.
It’s been so long since Richland, Washington,
Where my daddy worked at the Hanford plant;
Now my little boys say, “What’s plutonium . . .
What is this thing at the Hanford plant?
Where is this place, this Richland, Washington,
This Columbia River, this Coulee Dam . . .
Who was this man in Richland, Washington,
Who was this man we’ve never seen?”
© Copyright Hardhit Music 1977 – BMI
James Talley and
James Talley, Sr. in
Richland, Washington
c. 1948
SOMEWHERE ON THE
EDGE OF THE WORLD
Somewhere in the mountains of the mind,
Deep within the mystery we call life,
With Crazy Horse I ride—
Somewhere on the edge of the world . . .
Somewhere on the edge of the world.
The morning star turns mystery into light,
The prairie wind sends fire across the sky, and
With Crazy Horse I ride—
Somewhere on the edge of the world . . .
Somewhere on the edge of the world.
Tell me how far does the river flow,
Tell me how deep do the waters go,
Tell me how wide is the other side—
Take my dreams . . .
Let them fly.
Purple mountains race against the sky,
There is no direction, only time,
With Crazy Horse I ride—
Somewhere on the edge of the world . . .
Somewhere on the edge of the world.
Coyote voices crying in the night,
I see the horsemen passing by—
With Crazy Horse they ride—
Somewhere on the edge of the world . . .
Somewhere on the edge of the world.
Oh my love, set me free,
Oh my love, stay with me,
The canyon’s deep and river wide—
Look at the stars . . .
See them shine.
Out where the Powder River flows,
A broken heart is beating still, I know,
In the blood the spirits rise—
Somewhere on the edge of the world . . .
Somewhere on the edge of the world.
© Copyright Hardhit Songs 2002
WHEN I NEED SOME LOVE
When I get the blues, I think of you,
When my problems are many, and my answers few;
When my spirit’s down, and it seems no use—
When I need some love, I think of you.
When I need someone, I think of you,
When I’m far from home, and so lonely too;
When I need some help just to make it through—
When I need some love, I think of you.
When I’ve reached for the stars,
When I’ve reached for the moon,
When I’ve tried and I’ve tried
And not a dream comes true;
When it seems I’ve played the part of a fool—
When I need some love . . .
When I need some love . . .
I think of you.
© Copyright 1978 Hardhit Music – BMI
I SAW THE BUILDINGS
I saw the buildings fall from the sky,
I saw the people, I watched them die,
I saw it all on the morning news,
And I saw what hate will do—
I saw brave men risk their lives,
I saw brave men, I watched them die,
There in the darkness of that afternoon,
Oh, I saw what brave do—
CHORUS: But the stars come out at night,
And the moon it shines so bright,
And the mystery holds, which no one knows,
And our hopes and dreams sustain us.
I saw the families torn apart,
I saw the children with broken hearts,
There is no comfort for their wounds,
Oh, I saw what grief will do—
I saw a nation rise up and cry,
I saw the people asking why;
I saw their anger and I saw their blues,
Oh, I saw what loss will do.
CHORUS
I saw the children of Palestine,
Strap on their bombs, I watched them die;
In desperation they are used,
Oh, I saw what need will do—
I saw the young men of Jerusalem,
With their tanks and with their guns,
Through the broken dreams they pursue,
Oh, I saw what the pain will do—
CHORUS
There was a young man from Nazareth,
“Love one another,” to the people, he said,
But love was something they could not do,
Oh, I saw what men will do—
I saw the buildings fall from the sky . . .
And I saw hatred stronger than life,
I saw madness, and I saw doom,
Oh, I saw what evil will do—
CHORUS
© Copyright Hardhit Songs 2002 – ASCAP
UP FROM GEORGIA
She come up from Georgia
One year was in the spring—
She come up from Georgia,
A lass of seventeen;
She come up from Georgia
Such a beautiful dream,
She come up from Georgia
Ridin’ on the mornin’ train . . .
Oh, the peaches down in Georgia
They say they’re mighty sweet—
The days are warm and sunny
In Georgia by the sea;
And there’s always somethin’ for you
In that you can believe;
So go on down to Georgia
And set your . . .
Set your mind at ease.
Oh, Jesus lives in Georgia
And he lives for you and me,
And the folks down in Georgia,
They got a song . . .
They got a song to sing
Yeah, when you’re down in Georgia
Things just ain’t the same;
It all goes better in Georgia,
You won’t hear . . .
Hear no one complain.
Repeat first verse
© Copyright Hardhit Music 1977
WE’RE ALL ONE FAMILY
Did you ever stop to think just who you are,
Did you ever look in wonder up at the stars,
Are there hopes and dreams within your heart—
A light that shines, Oh . . .
And maybe you sing to a different tune—
But the song is the same.
CHORUS
We’re part of the same great mystery,
The universe and its majesty,
And we all share the same destiny—
Like kinks in a chain, ‘cause . . .
CHORUS
So let’s come together while we can,
Let’s join our hearts, and join our hands,
And let’s start to try and understand—
Before it’s too late, that . . .
CHORUS
CHORUS:
We’re all one family,
We’re all one family,
We’re all one family—
© Hardhit Music 1985 – BMI
All over the world.
Maybe you don’t think the way I do,
And maybe your eyes are brown or blue,
This album is dedicated to the memory of two very special friends:
Joseph A. Daugherty and Harriett Tarver.
Left to right: Dave Pomeroy,
Umberto Bonnani, Greg Thomas,
Jono Manson, Mike Noble
in Chiari, Italy
James Talley,
Dave Pomeroy
Jono Manson
James Talley with his babies,
Shiloh and Cheyenne
Journey
  1. W. LEE O’DANIEL AND
THE LIGHT CRUST DOUGH BOYS
  2. BLUESMAN
  3. MY CHEROKEE MAIDEN*
  4. THAT OLD MAGIC*
  5. TRYIN’ LIKE THE DEVIL
  6. SOMETIMES I THINK
ABOUT SUZANNE
Recorded Live in Sarzanna, Gallarate,
and Chiari, Italy, October 23, 24 and 25, 2002
All songs composed by James Talley
Produced by James Talley
Executive Producers: Jono Manson
and Simone Grassi
Music Village, Sarzanna, Italy
Recorded by Jono Manson
Mixed and edited by Tommy Detamore
  7. LA ROSA MONTAÑA
  8. THE SONG OF CHIEF JOSEPH*
  9. RICHLAND, WASHINGTON
10. SOMEWHERE ON THE EDGE OF THE WORLD*
11. WHEN I NEED SOME LOVE
12.I SAW THE BUILDINGS*
13. UP FROM GEORGIA
14. WE’RE ALL ONE FAMILY
* Previously unreleased songs
q and m Cimarron Records, Inc. 2004
P.O. Box 120722
Nashville, TN 37212
Cimarron Records
Catalog No. 1012
www.cimarronrecords.com
www.jamestalley.com
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