“Glenn Frey and Don Henley wrote this song together, and Frey sang lead. Along with “Desperado,” it was one of two songs they came up with in the first week that they started writing together. The songs formed the basis of the Eagles’ second album, with Frey and Henley comparing the life of a cowboy to that of a musician. “Tequila Sunrise” shows the transient nature of each lifestyle, as the singer falls for a woman who just wants to use him and move on. The theme didn’t immediately connect with the buying public, but the songs and the album stood the test of time.” *
Cat Stevens wrote “The First Cut Is The Deepest” when he was eighteen. At the time, he had no intention of becoming a worldwide star performer. He sold the song for thirty pounds to P.P. Arnold, a soul singer who lived near him in London. She released “The First Cut Is The Deepest” on her first album. It reached #18 on the U.K. charts in 1967. Eventually, Rod Stewart and Sheryl Crow covered the song, making it a major hit in America.
Stevens released his version of the song on his debut album, New Masters. Because he never released “The First Cut Is the Deepest” as a single, the album went largely unnoticed.
Despite his shyness, Stevens’ songwriting and singing burst through to make him an international star in the music industry. I’m using Stevens’ version in my cover.
In this song, (Yusuf) Cat Stevens is singing to a woman he yearns for in a Human form. On another level, he may be singing, aware or unaware, to the Divine Feminine. In either case, the object of Stevens’ love is unattainable in the present. Yet, I believe, that the admirer (Stevens) continues to yearn for his beloved in the hope that he will, one day, meet his perfect love, in either or both Human and Divine forms. There are many interpretations of “How Can I Tell You.” In my view, the song is hopeful rather than despairing.
However one interprets “How Can I Tell you,” I feel that the song is filled with incredible beauty that cannot help but shine through.
And thank you, Yusuf Islam (Cat Stevens), for your always beautiful, wise, and inspiring music.
Well, here we go again–another Jackson Browne song. I tried not to do it, but when no songs came flying into my head, I went to Jerry’s Guitar Bar for inspiration. And there it was–a brand new Jackson Browne lesson. I just couldn’t resist.
“Somebody’s Baby” is reminiscent of a fifties Rock and Roll song. Only, it’s much better. Like they always said on American Bandstand, “It has a good beat.” For “Somebody’s Baby, the beat is better than just “good.” The song has a driving, get-up-and-dance beat. The lyrics are also clever, as is customary for any Jackson Browne song, and the melody is captivating.
Now, here’s the rub. “Somebody’s Baby” is atypical of a Jackson Browne song. The only reason he wrote it is because his friend, Cameron Crowe (Jerry Maguire), asked him to write it with Danny Kotchmar for Crowe’s film, Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Kotchmar wrote the framework for the song, and Browne finished and recorded it for the movie.
Jackson Browne tried to distance himself from the song because he felt it was “too commercial.” But too many people liked it, and Browne eventually recorded the hit song on one of his albums. Here’s the man himself playing the song.
Willie Nelson made “Always On My Mind” one of his signature songs. Upon hearing the song for the first time, Nelson knew that he wanted to add “Always On My Mind” to his repertoire. Several recording artists, including Elvis Presley, released the song unsuccessfully. When Nelson recorded it in 1982, the song became a smash hit. Nelson’s sensitive rendition made the song a top 5 hit and a Grammy nomination.
Wayne Carson wrote “Always” as an apology to his wife when he was working in a recording studio in Memphis and stayed ten days longer than he expected to. When Carson called his wife to tell her that he had to stay in Memphis longer, she let him have it. To make his wife feel better, Carson told her she was “always on his mind.”
“It just struck me like someone had hit me with a hammer,” Carson told the LA Times. “I told [my wife] real fast I had to hang up because I had to put that into a song. ‘Always’ is about one long apology. I guess there are a lot of people in the world who are looking for a way to say [what the lyrics express] in a song.”
“Always On My Mind” popped into my head from out of nowhere. Coincidentally, I’ve been hearing it at the gym where I work out, but after the fact. I’ve decided that it’s a reminder from the cosmos to appreciate my loyal wife of thirty-six years. Here’s my cover played in Nelson’s style.
Jackson Browne wrote “For A Dancer” in memory of a modern dancer friend who died tragically in a fire. When Jackson’s wife, the model Phyllis Major, died suddenly in 1976, “For A Dancer” mysteriously took on a new meaning. “That’s how songs work,” Brown said in an interview. “They migrate into other parts of your life and other experiences.”
Browne eventually played the song at the funerals of two other celebrity friends. And if one listens to the lyrics closely, “For A Dancer” becomes a larger commentary on the intransience of life itself. We cling to it like a thread, and nothing is certain.
To me, the larger meaning of the song underscores the necessity of using every precious moment wisely. Here’s my cover.
Jackson Browne’s guitar techniques, lyrics, and melodies stand apart from the crowd. What he says through his music is sometimes searing, sad, and occasionally, happy. However, all of Browne’s songs have something in common: an incredible sensitivity and beauty.
Browne wrote “These Days” when he was only sixteen years old. Despite his youth, Browne demonstrated a keen sense of heartbreak. I’m not sure how a sixteen-year-old could feel the depth of emotion and remorse expressed in this song. If we assume Jackson experienced and gave voice to the words and tone of “These Days,” then he was wise beyond his years and deeply rooted in himself from early on.
The song had its first release when a protégé of Andy Warhol named Nico picked it up on her “Chelsea Girl” album. Brown played acoustic guitar in the background. “These Days” gained wider recognition when several artists subsequently covered it.
Brown eventually released his version of the song in 1973 on the album “For Everyman.” He rewrote “These Days” to make it more optimistic. In his own words, Jackson remembers, “Over the rest of my teenage years and into my 20s, I developed a kind of optimism, a kind of resoluteness, so I changed [one verse] to: ‘I’ll keep on moving, keep improving.’ That’s more to me what life is made of, the idea that I’ll get through this, I’ll continue looking.”
I’ve always wanted to play this song the way Jackson Browne does. Thanks to my friend Jerry Lambert, I can now do it. Here’s my cover.
I first heard “Cornflower Blue” as the opening song on Kate Wolf’s 1983 double album “Give Yourself to Love.” As I listened to the album many times over, “Cornflower Blue” grew on me (no pun intended). I began to appreciate the exquisite beauty in the lyrics and in Kate’s lovely singing voice.
Oftentimes, songs like this one will find their way into my heart and I feel compelled to play them myself. With this song, I had my doubts. The chances were good that I might not pull it off. Learning how to play “Cornflower Blue” like Kate does was like learning how to walk again. The style is completely counterintuitive to what I’m used to, but I’m glad I made the effort. I hope my cover of the song conveys some of the mystery and beauty of the original.
“Pluck” is the word that comes to mind when I think of Nanci Griffith and her music. In terms of stature, Nanci can be described as diminutive, or perhaps petite is a better, if overused, description. Ironically, the essence of Nanci Griffith is anything but small. She imbued her songs with a crystal clear, powerful voice and confident stage presence. In her simple way, Griffith is remembered as a giant among country and folk singer/songwriters. With twenty-four albums released from 1978 to 2002, Griffith has left a lasting impression on an art form she once described as “folkabilly.” Nanci’s music merges the elegant folk of her early years with the folk-rock of her later years.
I’ve covered many of Nanci’s songs on this blog, including this latest, “Trouble In The Fields.” It’s a penetrating and beautiful song inspired by Griffith’s recollections of her great-grandparents’ struggles with drought and hard economic times during the 1930s. “Trouble In The Fields” is dedicated to Nanci’s great aunt and uncle, Nettie Mae and Tootie, farmers for eighty years near Lubbock, Texas.
In a 2009 interview, Cat Stevens (by then Yusuf Islam) is quoted as saying: “I was on holiday in Spain. I was a kid from the West End [of London]- bright lights, etc. I never got to see the moon on its own. In the dark, there were always streetlamps. So there I was on the edge of the water on a beautiful night with the moon glowing, and suddenly I looked down and saw my shadow. I thought that was so cool; I’d never seen it before.”
The song is about finding hope in any situation, of being present and joyful. With the simplicity and joy of a child, Stevens writes about seeing life as it is in the moment and not comparing it to others’ lives or other times in an individual’s life.
Moonshaw is a beautiful song expressing the idea that every moment in life is rich and unique. Whether we are aware of it or not, Stevens is saying, we are always “leaping and hopping on a Moonshadow” every second of our existence. He cautions against being too wrapped up in our worries and concerns about what could be or what has been, and consequently missing the richness of life as it is.
Heart Banter by David Gittlin 