I don't know whose recording of Basin Street Blues we played on our wind-up record player (yes, really) when I was little, but I remember listening to it with my dad, who loved to teach us everything he knew.
While looking on YouTube today, I found this video of Ella Fitzgerald singing Basin Street Blues, and on it she does a fabulous imitation of Louis (Satchmo) Armstrong. It's sure worth a listen.
In this blues recording by Louis Armstrong, the music itself is as sad as the words. Sadder, really, because Louis actually chuckles while singing the song. It's called St. James Infirmary.One of the highlights of my life was seeing Louis perform in concert. I'll never forget him.
When I was older, probably a teen, I heard the country/blues song I Can't Stop Loving You and decided the lyric contained one of the stupidest decisions I'd ever heard uttered by an adult.
This became something of a hobbyhorse of mine and, if I heard the song played, I would point out the absurdity of the decision to whoever would listen. Therefore, it is included in my poem of the day, which, by the way, pays attention to the rhyme scheme of a blues sonnet, but wanders around rather badly as to meter.
they say the southland gave blues its birth
but even up north here, for what it is worth
we know the blues mean a sad lack of mirth:
you’ve got me crying over you
and I have nothing else to do
but think of you and just be blue.
such blues, however, can find us in a bind
“I can’t stop loving you, I’ve made up my mind
to live in memories of old lonesome times.
I can’t stop loving you, it’s useless to say
so I’ll just live my life in dreams of yesterday.”
as a pattern for living, this isn't the way—
singing the blues can be tonic for pain
but living the blues won’t allow us to gain.
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This recording is by the great Ray Charles, and I'm sure he definitely didn't take such lyrics to heart, because he had such a positive attitude.
