Country – Page 2 – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

Blue Shadows – Don’t Expect A Reply (Runaway Train)

This isn’t the same Runaway Train that brought Soul Asylum into heavy MTV rotation a year earlier (or Blue Rodeo’s song). No, this one’s more haunted, more twangy, and more soaked in country rock. It might be better, at least to me. Since I heard this band a few months ago, I cannot shake them, nor do I want to. I feel a Big Star love for them.

The Blue Shadows never got their due. They existed in that strange space between country and power pop, never quite fitting into either scene completely. But that’s exactly what made them special. This song stands as a testament to what happens when talented musicians follow their instincts rather than market trends or what’s hot today. This song was released in 1995 on the album Lucky To Me, their last studio album.

Led by Billy Cowsill, the Blue Shadows carved out a very different space in early ’90s Canada. The song was written by Jeffrey Hatcher and Billy Cowsill. Cowsill had the kind of voice that was country tinged with an edge. Hatcher was equal parts Buddy Holly with a touch of Chris Hillman cool, which makes for a killer songwriting partner.

There’s an alternate timeline in a perfect world where the Blue Shadows catch fire, tour with Uncle Tupelo, Wilco, or The Jayhawks, and end up as alt-country royalty. Instead, their last album, Lucky To Me, went quietly out into the world, loved by those lucky enough to hear it, and this song remains one of the most gorgeous things to ever slip through the cracks of the 1990s.

Billy Cowsill’s last interview, he was asked what he was most proud of in his career, and he answered with The Blue Shadows’ first album On The Floor of Heaven. “To my mind, that is the finest piece of work I ever did. It is just so good. The writing is so good. The production is so good. It is a nice little piece de resistance.”

Runaway Train

There ain’t a ball and chain
That can tie me down
There ain’t a jail been made
That can hold me now
I heard some fool say
He’s got to be insane
Well it kind of looks that way

From a runaway train that’s out of control
No matter what I do
No matter where I go
You can say goodbye
I won’t be back again
But don’t expect a reply
Not from a runaway train

Oh no they can’t catch me
Because they move too slow
And they’re new at this game
I started long ago
I tell you I was here
Before the track was laid
I was the first to ride

On that runaway train that’s out of control
No matter what I do
No matter where I go
You can say goodbye
I won’t be back again
But don’t expect a reply
Not from a runaway train

I used to roll on through
When it was countryside
Then the cities they grew
Until they reached the sky
I’m going to hit the coast
Then roll right on through
Wish you could see the view

From that runaway train that’s out of control
No matter what I do
No matter where I go
You can say goodbye
I won’t be back again
But don’t expect a reply
Not from a runaway train

From that runaway train that’s out of control
No matter what I do
No matter where I go
You can say goodbye
I won’t be back again
But don’t expect a reply
Don’t expect a reply
Don’t expect a reply

No, no don’t expect a reply

….

John Prine – Paradise

I want to thank halffastcyclingclub for bringing this song up when reading the Levon Helm post called The Mountain I posted last week. I’d never heard it and fell for it immediately. I listened to it over and over again. Such a cool vibe of looking back in this song.

The song is not just a song, it’s a family photograph yellowing at the edges, the kind you keep tucked in a drawer and only pull out when you’re feeling brave enough to remember. Written for his parents, and about a real place in Kentucky that no longer exists the way it used to. We can all relate to this. I grew up in a small city in Tennessee, and it’s completely different now than it was when I grew up. Sometimes progress is good and sometimes not.

I don’t usually dissect songs, but this one hit me. Prine was only in his mid-twenties when he wrote it, but he already sounded like someone who’d lived a dozen lives. It’s not just a memory, it’s a eulogy with a banjo. “And daddy won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County / Down by the Green River where Paradise lay…”
And the punchline comes just a beat later:
“…Well I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in askin’ / Mr. Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away.”

That’s it right there. Prine gives you a warm hug and slips a dagger in your back before the first verse is out. It’s a protest song in overalls, gentle, but furious. Not angry, but quietly heartbroken. He’s not shouting down injustice; he’s telling you what it feels like when the land your family once lived on gets strip-mined out of existence.

This song was the fifth track on his 1971 debut album, which is ridiculous when you think about it. As young as he was, and writing a song like this. Plenty of artists have covered Paradise. Dwight Yoakam, John Denver, John Fogerty, even the Everly Brothers, but none of them touch the original. Because it wasn’t just a song to Prine. It was a love letter to something that couldn’t love him back anymore.

Lynn Anderson released it in 1975, and it was the most commercially successful release. It peaked at #26 on the Billboard Country Charts and #16 on the Canadian Country Charts.

Paradise

When I was a child my family would travel
Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born
And there’s a backwards old town that’s often remembered
So many times that my memories are worn

And Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I’m sorry, my son, but you’re too late in asking
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away

Well, sometimes we’d travel right down the Green River
To the abandoned old prison down by Airdrie Hill
Where the air smelled like snakes we’d shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill

And Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in asking
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away

Then the coal company came with the world’s largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man

When I die, let my ashes float down the Green River
Let my soul roll on up to the Rochester Dam
I’ll be halfway to Heaven with Paradise waitin’
Just five miles away from wherever I am

…

Johnny Cash – I’ve Been Everywhere

Happy 4th of July and a belated Canada Day.

I don’t think any performer is as popular and liked across generations and genres as Johnny Cash. I’ve met hard rock, country, and blues fans who love him. He was an American Icon. This man had been everywhere, and he had the stories to back it up.

The song originated in Australia in 1959, written by Geoff Mack, which name-checked towns like Mooloolaba and Wollongong. Lucky Starr popularized it in Australia at the time. Hank Snow gave it an American twist in the early ‘60s, with a rapid-fire list of U.S. towns delivered at a gallop, sounding like he was being chased by a state trooper and an angry tour promoter at the same time.

Hank Snow made this song popular in 1962 by taking it to #1 on the Billboard Country chart and #68 on the Billboard 100. Johnny covered this song in 1996, and it’s the version I remember. Cash had a way of making a song his own. He released it in 1996 but had been doing it for years live.

The genius of it, though, is that despite the fast pace, it never feels like a gimmick in his hands. There’s that world-weary baritone voice, like a man unrolling a crumpled map that’s been folded a thousand times. The song becomes not just about where he’s been, but what he’s seen, motels, hotels, and empty stages. He’s been everywhere, but not always by choice.

The song was on the album American II: Unchained produced by Rick Rubin. The album peaked at #26 on the Billboard Country Album Charts and #170 on the Billboard 200 in 1996.

I hope everyone living in the U.S. has a happy, safe Fourth of July! I know I will!

I’ve Been Everywhere
I was totin’ my pack along the dusty Winnemucca road,
When along came a semi with a high and canvas-covered load.
“If you’re goin’ to Winnemucca, Mack, with me you can ride.”
And so I climbed into the cab and then I settled down inside.
He asked me if I’d seen a road with so much dust and sand.
And I said, “Listen, I’ve traveled every road in this here land!”