― Abbadavid Berman (Hurting), Saturday, 4 February 2006 04:37 (7 years ago) Permalink
― Jim Reckling (Jim Reckling), Saturday, 4 February 2006 04:48 (7 years ago) Permalink
― Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Saturday, 4 February 2006 04:58 (7 years ago) Permalink
Any opinions of his salute to 50's rock & roll, DOCABILLY?
― Rev. Hoodoo (Rev. Hoodoo), Saturday, 4 February 2006 08:26 (7 years ago) Permalink
― boober, Saturday, 4 February 2006 17:27 (7 years ago) Permalink
Oh, listen to my story, I'll tell you no lies,
How John Lewis did murder poor little Omie Wise.
He told her to meet him at Adams's Springs.
He promised her money and other fine things.
So, fool-like she met him at Adams's Springs.
No money he brought her nor other fine things.
"Go with me, little Omie, and away we will go.
We'll go and get married and no one will know."
She climbed up behind him and away they did go,
But off to the river where deep waters flow.
"John Lewis, John Lewis, will you tell me your mind?
Do you intend to marry me or leave me behind?"
"Little Omie, little Omie, I'll tell you my mind.
My mind is to drown you and leave you behind."
"Have mercy on my baby and spare me my life,
I'll go home as a beggar and never be your wife."
He kissed her and hugged her and turned her around,
Then pushed her in deep waters where he knew that she would drown.
He got on his pony and away he did ride,
As the screams of little Omie went down by his side.
T'was on a Thursday morning, the rain was pouring down,
When the people searched for Omie but she could not be found.
Two boys went a-fishin' one fine summer day,
And saw little Omie's body go floating away.
They threw their net around her and drew her to the bank.
Her clothes all wet and muddy, they laid her on a plank.
Then sent for John Lewis to come to that place --
And brought her out before him so that he might see her face.
He made no confession but they carried him to jail,
No friends or relations would go on his bail.
― wilter, Monday, 13 October 2008 03:03 (4 years ago) Permalink
Any other notable versions of Omie Wise?i love it.
― wilter, Monday, 13 October 2008 03:04 (4 years ago) Permalink
G.B. Grayson recording of it: http://www.sendspace.com/file/bdw7yy
― wilter, Monday, 13 October 2008 03:15 (4 years ago) Permalink
Doc's version of Omie Wise is perfect.
― Jim, Sunday, 26 September 2010 14:00 (2 years ago) Permalink
― global tetrahedron, Friday, 25 May 2012 14:56 (1 year ago) Permalink
― something of an astrological coup (tipsy mothra), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 01:36 (1 year ago) Permalink
oh man, RIP. such a great guitarist and a pretty wonderful singer too.
― tylerw, Wednesday, 30 May 2012 02:12 (1 year ago) Permalink
one hell of a guitar picker, good long life.
― cosi fan whitford (underrated aerosmith bootlegs I have owned), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 02:15 (1 year ago) Permalink
my parents weren't huge into bluegrass-y type things, but this record got played a lot when i was a kid.
― tylerw, Wednesday, 30 May 2012 02:23 (1 year ago) Permalink
really glad I saw him at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass a couple years ago. shit, who's left of the old school now... Ralph Stanley and Del McCoury I guess?
― Chris S, Wednesday, 30 May 2012 02:37 (1 year ago) Permalink
― tylerw, Wednesday, 30 May 2012 02:39 (1 year ago) Permalink
RIP, Doc. :(
one really moving performance of his (and one I keep coming back to) is his cover of Johnny Mathis's "The Twelfth of Never", which he played at last year's MerleFest and dedicated to his wife. it's not much of an example of his picking, but his voice just soars in the unadorned setting — somehow smooth and craggy and resonant all at once. his playing always has such an air of homey professionalism to it. he didn't commit himself to being either an authentic bearer of folk heritage or a master craftsman when he could quite naturally be both, and he seemed just as relaxed with a professional bluegrass band as he did on the excellent home recordings he made with his family.
I've still mostly only heard his '60s material but really ought to seek out some of his later stuff.
― barman's bar mitz (unregistered), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 03:15 (1 year ago) Permalink
This is like a heartbeat stopping for me. There has never been a time in my life where Doc Watson wasn't present. My earliest memories of playing music were my dad tuning one of his guitars to open G so I could strum along with him and his friends playing "Tennessee Stud."
I walked to my dad yesterday, and I didn't think I was going to be as bummed about this as I am. But I am. RIP Doc. You were truly a treasure, and I'm glad I got to meet you and hear you play so many times. Thanks for the music.
― Sauvignon Blanc Mange (B.L.A.M.), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 15:20 (1 year ago) Permalink
Talked to my dad - Pasadena to Baltimore would be a hike!
― Sauvignon Blanc Mange (B.L.A.M.), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 15:21 (1 year ago) Permalink
the live recordings of Bill Monroe and Doc Watson on Folkways were hugely important to me in college and remain so
― this guy's a gangsta? his real name's mittens. (Hurting 2), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 15:30 (1 year ago) Permalink
their respective voices and instruments complemented each other in parallel ways
― this guy's a gangsta? his real name's mittens. (Hurting 2), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 15:31 (1 year ago) Permalink
― this guy's a gangsta? his real name's mittens. (Hurting 2), Wednesday, 30 May 2012 15:32 (1 year ago) Permalink
listening to this one now -- so great! wonder if he ever made a bad record...
― tylerw, Wednesday, 30 May 2012 21:10 (1 year ago) Permalink
though switching between doc watson and agharta-era miles davis is kind of messing with my mind. in a good way. AMERICAN MUSIC IS THE BEST MUSIC.
― tylerw, Wednesday, 30 May 2012 21:17 (1 year ago) Permalink
my mom loved bluegrass and some of my earliest memories are also of Doc Watson. we all went to see him once when I was in middle school, I remember him doing the cigarette song.
― sleeve, Thursday, 31 May 2012 00:07 (1 year ago) Permalink
ry cooder in the nytimes:
Doc Watson, who died on Tuesday at age 89, was the first truly great guitar player I ever saw up close. For me, growing up in Santa Monica, Calif., in the 1950s meant that great musicians were only manifested on records and radio, making it hard to catch a glimpse of the person behind the layers of sound and presentation. You knew people like Hank Snow and Merle Travis were great, but you couldn’t be sure how much the Nudie suits and custom boots had contributed to the sound you heard on KXLA radio.
Then, Doc and the banjo player Clarence Ashley and some of the boys drove out to Los Angeles for the first U.C.L.A. Folk Festival in 1963. On the lawn by Royce Hall, the gothic classical music venue, they gathered around and sang “Daniel Prayed,” an intricate call-and-response-style gospel tune. The public was here and there, wandering around aimlessly, like they do at these events. It was casual and unannounced — we hadn’t entered into the hyperorganized way of music appreciation just yet — that came later with the big rock shows.
Fred Price led the song with his old man’s ghostly voice, Clint Howard joined in on farm-boy tenor and Doc added his resonant bass, which was severe and shocking. In their tradition, the instruments are rested and the song is like a breathing exercise. Daniel prayed every morning, noon, and night, it says. I wondered if there were more people right there on the lawn than had ever assembled in their church back home in Deep Gap, N.C., to hear about Daniel and the nonstop prayer, but that didn’t bother Doc and the boys.
Then, Ed Pearl, the owner of the folk music club the Ash Grove, took them away somewhere to get a sandwich. Their place back home would probably just about fit in between the lawn and the food tent, I remember thinking. I also remember thinking that these men know something about music I’ll never know, even if I practice and study all my life. You have to be born into it. That way, every note and word and gesture has meaning, and your notes and sung words line up with those of your friends and make a whole statement about life that is tiny but eternal. Now another rounder has gone. Doc made many good recordings, but you needed to be in his close presence to pick up the sound of his life and times; the microphone can’t do that for you, I’m sorry to say.
Later that day, I was sitting on a bench playing guitar, and Doc and Ed Pearl walked by. Doc stopped and listened. “Who’s that?” he asked Ed. “That’s Ry Cooder, he’s a youngster.”
“Sounds pretty good,” Doc said, and they walked on.
― tylerw, Thursday, 31 May 2012 15:52 (1 year ago) Permalink
An all-star project combing bluegrass with classic funk, Groovegrass was the brainchild of Boston-based session musician Scott Rouse, a longtime bluegrass fan who first began experimenting with dance mixes of "Deep River Blues," "I Wonder How the Old Folks Are at Home" and other traditional favorites. Rouse's mixes became hits on the local club scene -- an area DJ coined the term "groovegrass" -- and on the advice of family friend Doc Watson he relocated to Nashville, where the concept was roundly rejected by Music City executives until Warner Bros. agreed to cut a dance remix of John Anderson's "Swingin'." Although the track went officially unreleased at Anderson's behest, it was extensively bootlegged and became a cult favorite at nightspots across the country. The first official Groovegrass release, a remix EP of the Osbourne Brothers' "Rocky Top," went on to sell over 100,000 copies, and soon after Rouse recruited bluegrass legends including Watson, Mac Wiseman, and Del McCoury -- as well as funk icon Bootsy Collins -- to play as the Groovegrass Boyz, issuing a self-titled 1997 effort containing their rendition of the smash "Macarena." Groovegrass 101 Featuring Groovegrass Boyz followed in 1998.
― barman's bar mitz (unregistered), Thursday, 31 May 2012 16:47 (1 year ago) Permalink
haha! sounds amazing.
― tylerw, Thursday, 31 May 2012 16:54 (1 year ago) Permalink
― global tetrahedron, Sunday, 14 October 2012 20:16 (8 months ago) Permalink
BBC documentary from 1976:
― negative people on the internet. (instrumental) (unregistered), Tuesday, 22 January 2013 22:35 (4 months ago) Permalink
Groovegrass 101 is on Spotify -- even in an era of widespread ironic appreciation of the awful, this stands out as one of the worst records I've ever heard
― space phwoar (Hurting 2), Monday, 18 March 2013 20:16 (3 months ago) Permalink