Sunday Morning Coming Down

Following on from last week’s Flying Burrito Brothers post, I fancied posting something by The Byrds this week.

One particular song, in fact.

But sadly, The Byrds original version isn’t a particularly Country version, and I know how it irks some folks if I dare to post a non-Country record here on a Sunday morning.

So instead, from his 1978 album Sleeper Wherever I Fall album, is a man with a name like a disgraced police officer:

Bobby Bare – I’ll Feel A Whole Lot Better

It may not be as great as the original, but it is unquestionably a Country record. Look, he’s even wearing a cowboy hat on the sleeve.

Or, maybe Juice Newton (whose name sounds like an instruction to squeeze Isaac until his pips pop) who covered it on her 1985 album Old Flames tickles your fancy this morning:

Juice Newton – Feel a Whole Lot Better

Which means that I can also justifiably post this, for the sake of comparison:

The Byrds – I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better

I’ll save Dinosaur Jr.’s version for another day.

Right, now I can go back to bed, a slightly happier man.

More soon.

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Sunday Morning Coming Down

A late switch of songs this morning.

All week, I had been planning to post some Merle Haggard, but listening to The Jayhawks tune I posted last night, I suddenly found myself in the mood for some Flying Burrito Brothers instead.

Which leads me to this song, instead.

Released in 1976, Gram Parsons posthumous album Sleepless Nights (formally credited to Gram Parsons/The Flyring Burrito Brothers) is a collection of songs recorded in 1970 (when he was part of The FBBs), and in 1973, as part of his sessions recordings for the Grievous Angel LP (when he wasn’t). Nine of the twelve tracks feature The FBB’s, and today’s pick is one of them.

Written by Merle Haggard, it first appeared on his 1968 album of the same name; Haggard penned it as a tribute to Jimmy “Rabbit” Kendrick, a fellow inmate at San Quentin prison, who devised an escape plan and invited Haggard to join him. However, they both agreed it would be best that Merle stayed in stir, “Rabbit” escaped but was re-captured two weeks later, and was ultimately executed for the murder of a state trooper. I love a story with a happy ending.

Happy because were it not for that unfortunate sequence of events, we might not have had Merle Haggard, and we may not have had his frankly staggering body of work, not least including this one:

The Flying Burrito Brothers – Sing Me Back Home

More soon.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

This morning, a song from a film I’ve never seen.

Heartworn Highways is a documentary, shot at the end of 1975 and the start of 1976 which, according to wikipedia “…covers singer-songwriters whose songs are more traditional to early folk and country music instead of following in the tradition of the previous generation. Some of film’s featured performers are Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, David Allan Coe, Rodney Crowell, Gamble Rogers, Steve Young, and The Charlie Daniels Band.”

Some of those folks have popped up on these pages before, but here’s a debut appearance for Gamble Rogers, with a song which features in the movie:

Gamble Rogers – The Black Label Blues

More soon.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

It’s official, I’m rubbish.

When you start blogging, the two things you are obliged to remember and commemorate are:

  1. John Peel’s birthday
  2. The date on which John Peel died.

On 30th August, John Peel would have been 80.

And I missed it.

But sharing a birthday would have been Kitty Wells, who would have turned 100.

So you’ll forgive me for posting something by Kitty, because her back catalogue far outweighs anything Peel released (and I know he won’t mind me saying it):

Kitty Wells – I Heard The Juke Box Playing

More soon.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

This morning I was going to return to look at some more of those “song titles which could only appear in Country records” which I’ve previously dabbled in, but then I stumbled upon today’s chosen tune.

Written by Bobby Braddock and Curly Putman, who also co-wrote such Country greats like Tammy Wynette’s D-I-V-O-R-C-E and George Jones’ He Stopped Loving Her Today – Putnam also wrote Green, Green Grass of Home, so you get some idea of the pedigree we’re dealing with here – this doesn’t quite fit the category, but it does have a mighty fine pun in the title nonetheless:

The Statler Brothers – You Can’t Have Your Kate And Edith, Too

More soon.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

A bit of a rehash this morning.

I first posted all of the songs in today’s post back in 2015. It attracted zero comments at the time so I think I can get away with it.

So, first up is this, the opening track from their gorgeous She Hangs Brightly album, the gorgeousness due in no small part to the smouldering vocal of Hope Sandoval:

Mazzy Star – Halah

Is there a voice more perfectly gorgeous in the whole wide world than Hope Sandoval’s? I think not. If only there was a way I could contrast it with, say, a grizzly Glaswegian.

Oh wait, there is…

The Jesus & Mary Chain – Sometimes Always

(Sort of original) content alert: here’s J&MC and Hope performing that song on the David Letterman show. The quality is shonky to say the least, but it’s worth a watch, if for no other reason than the tongue-in-cheek conversation between Letterman and musical director Paul Shaffer:

Now I’ve always loved that record – in fact, I think that the album it’s from, Stoned & Dethroned is one of the most under-rated albums I’ve ever heard, let alone owned – but I have always thought Sometimes Always was, lyrically, just a rehash of this:

The Beautiful South – A Little Time

I await the tide of outraged comments with interest.

More soon.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

I worry sometimes that maybe I focus a little too much on the old guard, the classic Country artists in this series.

I also worry that I don’t post many female Country artists either.

So, today is a “two birds, one stone” scenario.

Here’s something by the really rather quite wonderful Molly Tuttle to even things out a little:

Molly Tuttle – Take the Journey

More soon.