Well, I was born in 1965
That was a damn good time to be alive
Except that by the age of ten,
Music had turned crap again.
(Now people want to bring back the '70s, I say, "Nooo!
Give the bad music of today a chance!")
Then punk came 'round, that was pretty scary
It was like a contemporary Peter, Paul, and Mary
Before the '80s got too far,
It was time for me to pick up my guitar.
(Picked it up...
And all my friends turned up their noses
At "Freewheeling" and "For the Roses"
Preferring image over substance,
A hairstyle for a musical influence.
All those Ultravox records, all those Flock of Seagulls records,
They're gathering dust;
But I'm still listening to Live Rust!
(And if the '90s is the '60s turned upside down,
Then the '80s must've been the '60s the right way up with half the top cut off,
Did you catch that?
Think about it, now!)
And in the town where I did live,
There was no one I could do Hoot Night with
So I sat alone with my six strings
And I learned how to play and sing.
(Woody Guthrie's guitar killed fascists and crime,
But in the mean streets of Hastings, East Sussex,
My guitar killed... time.)
And I got gigs opening for bands,
And things would get sorta out of hand
'Cause big men would yell out their derision,
So I developed humor as a defense mechanism.
(How many folk singers does it take to change a lightbulb?
You don't know? The answer...
The answer is... blowin' in the wind.)
And after university,
I moved to the big old smoky city,
Got a gig opening for a friend of mine
Happened to be playing my ace in the right place at the right time.
So I gave up my Ph.D.,
I became a Dustbowl folkie.
(That's Phil Ochs, folks;
Not Phil Oakey.
Thank you very much for laughing at that right there.
He was the guy in The Human League, he had a very silly haircut.
He never played Freight and Salvage, I know that for a fact.)
Then I learned the Folksinger's Prayer:
Who art on Folkways,
Ramblin' Jack be thy name;
Thy Folk City come
Thy will be done
On CD and CD-ROM as it was on vinyl and 8-track cartridge.
Give us this day our daily gig,
And forgive us our protests
As we forgive those who protest against us.
And lead us not into commercialism,
But deliver us from playing "unplugged;"
For John Prine is the kingdom,
The power of the story,
Forever be clever,
So hey, everybody, the time is near
The folk revival is coming here
But it's a tough thing to revive today,
Because it never really goes away--
And that's 'cause it's a good thing!
So everyone it's time to come and claim your share
Time to re-iron your hair
And in five years' time you'll look back and say "I was there!"
The Freight and Salvage, Ellis Paul, John Wesley Harding,
The Return of the Great Gangsta Folk Scare!