Tag Archives: Moe Asch

Harry Smith’s Anthology Of American Folk Music

Several months ago when I transitioned from an owner of music to a renter via streaming, the first selection I imported into my cloud-based digital library was a collection of folk music I first heard when I was just a little sprout. I was introduced to Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music by an aunt who also taught me how to make chords and strum her guitar. She allowed me take her well-worn vinyl disc box set home, and for weeks I devoured this music. I couldn’t have been more than 11 or 12 years old, and along with having an older sister who endlessly played Joan Baez’s early albums as often as she’d listen to doo wop, rockabilly, and Elvis records, this early life genre convergence and musical immersion set my plate for life.

In the midst of reading a book about the life of Bill Monroe, I was recently reminded that both the Anthology and I will turn 66 this year. While much has been written about this compilation, it seems a good time to both rekindle the memories of older roots music fans and introduce this work to a younger generation.

Harry Smith was a man with diverse interests. He has been described as an experimental filmmaker, visual artist, mystic, bohemian, self-taught anthropologist, and collector of string figures, paper airplanes, Seminole textiles, Ukrainian Easter eggs, and out-of-print commercially released 78 RPM recordings from 1927 through 1935. After moving to New York in 1950, he found himself in need of money when his Guggenheim grant for an abstract film ran out, and he offered to sell his entire music collection to Moe Asch, the owner of Folkways Records. With the introduction of the long-playing album format, Asch instead encouraged Smith to create a compilation of these songs, and he provided him with office space and equipment. What resulted were three two-disc sets titled Ballads, Social Music, and Songs.

In 2014, author Amanda Petrusich published her book Do Not Sell At Any Price: The Wild, Obsessive Hunt for the World’s Rarest 78rpm Records and devoted an entire chapter to the Anthology, which was reprinted and is still viewable online at Pitchfork. It is easily the finest and most interesting account of Smith’s assembly of songs, and I love this particular description:

“Previously, these tracks were islands, isolated platters of shellac that existed independently of anything else: even flipping over a 78 required disruptive action. Shifting the medium from the one-song-per-side 78 to the long-playing vinyl album allowed, finally, for songs to be juxtaposed in deliberate ways. It’s possible now, of course, to dump all eighty-four tracks onto one digital playlist and experience the entire Anthology uninterrupted, but I still prefer to acknowledge the demarcations between its three sections — to play it as Smith did.”

Smithsonian Folkways Recordings, the benefactor and guardian of Moe Asch’s wonderful record label, re-released the Anthology on six compact discs in 1997, and all of the songs are available to listen to for free on their website. The box set includes a 96-page book featuring Smith’s original liner notes and various essays by writers, scholars, and musicians. Here are two brief excerpts:

“The Anthology was our bible … . We all knew every word of every song on it, including the ones we hated. They say that in the 19th-century British Parliament, when a member would begin to quote a classical author in Latin, the entire House would rise in a body and finish the quote along with him. It was like that.” – Dave Van Ronk

“First hearing the Harry Smith Anthology of American FoIk Music is like discovering the secret script of so many familiar musical dramas. Many of these actually turn out to be cousins two or three times removed, some of whom were probably created in ignorance of these original riches. It also occurred to me that as we are listening at a greater distance in time to a man or woman singing of their fairly recent past of the 1880s, we are fortunate that someone collected these performances of such wildness, straightforward beauty, and humanity.” – Elvis Costello

The collection offers something for everyone – folk, blues, Cajun, gospel, stringbands, Hawaiian and more – and is less historic and more the progenitor of modern day mix-tapes and curated playlists. Inspirational and influential, if you’re looking for the starting gate of both  yesterday’s traditional old-time roots music and today’s popular Americana-branded genre, this is it.

Postscript: Producer Hal Willner paid tribute to the Anthology with a revisionist version called The Harry Smith Project, which included a two-CD set and DVD that were culled from a series of concerts in London, New York, and Los Angeles in 1999 and 2001. Featuring a wide variety of musicians from Steve Earle to Lou Reed, Sonic Youth to The McGarrigle Sisters, it is a loving interpretation that you may have missed. Here’s a taste with Richard Thompson, Eliza Carthy, and Garth Hudson covering Clarence Ashby’s “The Coo Coo Bird.”

This article was originally published as an Easy Ed’s Broadside column over at No Depression: The Journal of Roots Music’s website.

A Woody Triple Play: Guthrie, Mann, and Allen

Portrait of folk singer Woody Guthrie smoking cigarette. (Photo by Eric Schaal//Time Life Pictures/Getty Images)

Portrait of folk singer Woody Guthrie smoking cigarette. (Photo by Eric Schaal//Time Life Pictures/Getty Images)

Today I’ve got several threads running through my brain, and I’m going to throw them into a Yahtzee cup and see what spills out. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. And if the Woodys I’m here to talk to you about today aren’t of interest to you, you can click this link and watch Ted Danson talk about the time he took mushrooms with Woody Harrelson. I aim to please.

But, to one of my points: Woody Guthrie has been a prominent figure in the last hundred pages of a dense and detailed book I’ve been reading for what seems like months now, that was published back in 1998 by Peter D. Goldsmith. Making People’s Music: Moe Asch and Folkways Records reads more like a history book than a biography. Should you be interested in learning about how roots music from Texas to Ethiopia was recorded and distributed in the 20th century, this one is for you. It’s available from the Smithsonian people but can also be found used on Amazon, starting at the steep price of 53 cents.

At times you can’t tell if its a narrative or an oral history, as Goldsmith brilliantly weaves the words of others around the theme of how a European immigrant came to New York, got interested in radio and recording, and went from releasing Yiddish records to building a catalog of essential folk, jazz, spoken word, gospel, and world music. Guthrie, Leadbelly, Josh White, Pete Seeger, the Harry Smith Anthology, Jazz at the Philharmonic — it’s an amazing American legacy.

You’ve likely been hearing a lot about the new the Del McCoury Band album of Guthrie tunes that came out last week, and it’s a fine project. I love how Nora Guthrie manages her father’s extensive archive and keeps the music alive with unique collaborations such as this one. Here’s a track to give you a taste of how McCoury does what he does.

My friends Mark and Beth, who front the smokin’ New York-based blues-infused roots band Spuyten Duyvil, have been running a concert series for the past seven years called Urban H2O. Last week they closed it out with an intimate performance from master guitarist Woody Mann. A student of the late Reverend Gary Davis and co-producer of the documentary Harlem Street Singerthis Woody has eight solo albums, tours around the world, and is currently a visiting artist at Boston’s Berklee College of Music, where he teaches Davis’ artistry to a new generation of young musicians. If you haven’t seen the film, track it down.

Woody Allen will be releasing a new film in August titled Cafe Society, and next year there will likely be a lot of press coverage on him and his wife Soon-Yi Previn, as they celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary. It’s quite a story how they came together, and I know a lot of people still have a hard time separating the man’s work from his actions and choices. Putting that aside for now, though, I happened to see Broadway Danny Rose again recently and it reminded me of Nick Apollo Forte.

A lounge singer from Connecticut who worked at Holiday Inns and Howard Johnson motels, Forte had zero acting experience when he was chosen to play Lou Canova in the 1984 comedy classic that starred Mia Farrow along with Allen. It is my all-time favorite film and there was never an official soundtrack released. I wish I could track down a clip of him singing his signature tune “Agita” in that film, but this is the best I was able to come up with:

And with that…I’m out of here.

This was originally posted as an Easy Ed Broadside column on the No Depression website.