John McCutcheon
Live at Wolf Trap

Finally, a live recording of one of American folk music's most sought-after concert performers. On this recording, John McCutcheon avoids standard fare and serves up eight brand-new songs and a host of previously unrecorded favorites. Guest musicians include Tom Chapin, Paul Reisler, Pete Kennedy and others.

Personnel

John McCutcheon, guitar, banjo, fiddle, hammer dulcimer, piano, vocals / Tom Chapin, guitar, vocals / Paul Reisler, guitar / Gregory Gladkov, piano / Pete Kennedy, guitar, bass / Bob Read, saxophones, clarinet

Formats

Compact Disk: Rounder CD:011661028326 Cassette: Rounder CS:011661028340

Produced by Paul Reisler and John McCutcheon
Year Released: 1991

Lyrics

Calling All the Children Home
words & music by John McCutcheon

"John, Mary Claire, Lulu, Jeanie
Kevin, Jeff, Patty, Nancy, Rob"

Shadows growing longer, light is growing dim
Supper's on the table everybody come in
Been playing at the river and I'm tired to the bone
She's calling all the children home

CHORUS:

Home to the table and the big, black pot
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When she's calling all the children home

Everybody's sittin' in everybody's place
With their fresh-scrubbed fingers and their fresh-scrubbed face
It's quiet just a minute while sister says a grace
Like she's calling all the children home

CHORUS

BRIDGE:

I could hear her voice in the middle of a crowd
It was never too late and it was never too loud
Smelled just like home by the time we hit the door
There was always just enough but there was always room for more

So, out in the desert, down by the sea
Hear the voice calling "Allee, allee in free!"
From the city to the forest where the wild beasts roam
We are calling all the children home

LAST CHORUS:

Home to the table, home to the feast
Where the last are first and the greatest are the least
Where the rich will envy what the poor have got
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When we're calling all the children home
Gathered 'round the table and the big, black pot
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
From the sacks in Soweto to the ice of Nome
From Baghdad City to the streets of Rome
When we're calling all the children home

"Moishe, Isabelle, Sipho, Kim
Mohammed, Mikael, Red Hawk, Tim"

©1990 by John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

The Hours After/Lonesome John/Reel á Bouche/Leather Britches
music by John McCutcheon/all others traditional

The first was written in Washington one Thanksgiving weekend. "Lonesome John" comes from Scott Boatright, a wonderful banjo player from Fort Blackmore, VA. "Reel" is a French Canadian mouth music piece. And the final tune is an old war-horse played at most any square dance you might go to around home.

Stole and Sold from Africa
traditional

From the singing of Addie Graham, of Cynthiana, KY

We're stole and sold from Africa
Transported to America
Like hogs and sheep we march in drove
Suffer the heat, endure the cold

We're almost naked, as you see
Almost bare-footed as we be
Suffer the lash, endure the pain
Exposed to sun, both wind and rain

See how they take us from our wives
Young children from their mother's side
They take us to some foreign land
Make slaves to wait on gentlemen

Oh Lord, have mercy and look down
Upon the race of the African kind
Upon our knees pour out our grief
And pray to God for some relief

Black Sea
words & music by John McCutcheon

Written for Prince William Sound Day, Cordova, AK April 24,1989

Now, friends, I know you read about it in the papers
Or perhaps you saw the pictures on TV
How the tanker cracked and the sea turned black
But it's time for some compassion, don't you see
Hell, the shipping lane was only 10 miles wide
You fishermen, you ought to understand
And when the captain asked for "one on the rocks"
Well, the third mate followed his command

And we'll change the name to "The Black Sea"
We'll make it all a tourist spot
And when we're done we'll give it back to the people of Alaska
Just to show what man hath wrought
And we'll pass along the cost to the ones who've lost
'Cause you know it's the American Way
Erect a neon sign for the rest of time:
"Brought to you by Exxon-USA"

Now the government, it was quick on its feet
No, they didn't leave a single thing to chance
But when it came to pressuring a corporate giant
Don't you know they did a brand new dance
"I know you got your birds and your mammals and your fishing and your fam'lies
So I hope you'll understand the brief delay"
But you can bet if this had happened off of Kennebunkport
They'd have cleaned it up the very same day

And we could call it "Spill of Fortune"
Maybe you could buy a fowl
Exxon pulls the strings and the government sings
Throws up its hand and throws in the towel
And if we can get the clearance a special appearance
Is scheduled by the IRS
With a mop and a rake and a big tax break
'Cause they're used to working in an awful mess

Now I don't claim to have any answers
But you know that I've got questions by the score
Like, who has the power and who has the name
Who has the right and who has the blame
And who has the lawyers and who has the tax breaks
Who has the damage control
Who has the home and who has the future
Who has the troubled soul?

So you can skim off the oil as you skim off the profits
But you'll only skim the surface of the crime
And when you drive to the pump watch the gas price jump
And I think you'll understand it all in time
Why up in the land of the midnight sun
You know, we're really in an awful fix
Seems corporate profits and the public good
Like oil and water, don't mix

And we could call it "I've Got a Secret"
And everyone could guess what's being done
Or maybe we could call it "To Tell the Truth"
Now wouldn't that be a lot of fun?
But it's more like "Good Morning America"
And everyone is waking up to find
That feather and fin and fur and skin
We're all judged by the bottom line
But, side by side, we're gonna turn that tide
'Cause there ain't gonna be a second time

©1989 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

The Old Brown's Head Light
words & music by John McCutcheon

He sat at the table his eyes burning red
Sayin', "Lucy, come see what the paper just said
"We knew it was coming tho' it still don't seem right
"They're taking the old Brown's Head Light"

"And what about Charlie, his wife, and his kid
"When computers perform all the work he once did
"It's back to the big ships to forage the sound
"With the family alone at some new place in town"

It's many a lost soul he's seen safely home
And many a loved one he's brought to their own
A voice in the darkness, a star in the night
A wish for good luck from the old Brown's Head Light

Well, it was Boon Island, Saddleback, Egg Rock, Dice Head
Every year one more wired or left there for dead
It's the same thing all over, but what I hate most
Is, Lucy, you know, we're the next ones up coast

It's many a lost soul I've seen safely home
And many a loved one I've brought to their own
A voice in the darkness, a star in the night
A wish for good luck from my home in the light

Well, you can call me old fashion and I guess that it's true
I should learn to adjust like most other folks do
But the work, like the salt, buries deep in your bones
From the years that you shepherd the folk safely home

Copyright 1987 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Joe Hill
words by Alfred Hayes, music by Earl Robinson

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night Alive as you and me Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead" "I never died," says he (2x)		Paul Robeson, singing at the site of the Sydney Opera House in 1960.
"The copper bosses killed you, Joe "They shot you, Joe," says I "Takes more than guns to kill a man" Says Joe, "I didn't die"
Standing there as big as life And smiling with his eyes Joe says, "What they could never kill "Went on to organize!"
"From San Diego, up to Maine "In every mine and mill "When workers fight and organize "It's there you'll find Joe Hill"
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night Alive as you and me Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead" "I never died," says he (2x)

©1938 by Leeds Music Corp.

Going, Going, Gone
words & music by Si Kahn

Oh, the scene was so familiar with farmers all around
The auctioneer was standing there, he brought his hammer down
But when they started bidding the crowd let out a roar
For they heard something on that day they'd never heard before

CHORUS:

What am I bid for the White House? Come on, boys, don't be slow
They've overspent their credit so they'll just have to go
If they can't learn to manage it's time they're moving on
The leaders of this country are going, going gone!

Come on, let's start the bidding with that Congress on the hill
They're awful fond of spending, they just don't pay the bills
But with a little honest work we'll make them good as new
I hear they're handy on the farm if you show 'em what to do

CHORUS

Then the crowd grew silent you could hear a needle drop
They motioned up the White House and put it on the block
But no one bid a nickel, they just stared so hard and cold
'Cause you can't bid on something that's already bought and sold

CHORUS

And when the sale was over I sure did thank my luck
I paid for both my senators and loaded 'em on the truck
Now one has gone to milking and the other's gone to seed
By wintertime they'll understand just what the farmers need

CHORUS

Sold American!

©1986 by Si Kahn. Published by Joe Hill Music (ASCAP).

High Hearts (10/18/90)
words & music by John McCutcheon

Slipping into the old school
Feeling anything but young
Take a beer and a nametag
Why the hell did I come?
Admire the dog-eared photos
Struggle with the name of an old friend's wife
All at once she stood in the doorway:
The sixteen year old love of my life

All those exiled memories
I thumbed through page after page
Each trapped in the harness
Of that perilous age
I watched her from the distance
Of family and crowd
But I offered not a bit of resistance
When she called me out loud

CHORUS:

High hearts and false starts
Again and again
(Now it's) Fast rides and long strides
Ever since then (and I'm wondering when)
My mind got so hazy
'Cause things are never the same
I guess I didn't know nothing
Till I knew love's name

Tired hearts beating fast
Now that the dancing is slow
Bodies not nearly so clumsy
As twenty years ago
There's just so much to tell you
That there's just nothing to say
I guess the time, just like the chances
Have all slipped away

High hearts and false starts
Again and again
(Now it's) Fast rides and long strides
Ever since then (and I'm wondering when)
Things got so crazy
How can I ever explain
I'm sorry, I just didn't know nothing
Till I knew love's name

Bridge:

How did he find me?
That boy I knew when I was young
He's always there to remind me
(Always) Playing at the edge of my mem'ry
Dancing on the tip of my tongue

Now this old house is darkened
'Cept for a single lamp's glow
Wrapped tight in the night
Here at the piano
Breathing slow from the cradle
My wife's face soft in the moon
As she rocks to the rhythm of the night
With the words of love's tune

High hearts and false starts
Again and again
(Now it's) Fast rides and long strides
Ever since then (and I'm wondering when)
I won't be so lazy
And I will shoulder the blame
For not knowing nothing
Till I knew love's name
Darlin' help me explain
So I won't feel so crazy
As I struggle to tame
All these demons that haunt me
Now that I know love's name

©1990 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Cut the Cake
words & music by Tina Liza Jones

We're gonna let 2nd grade out early today
Which made little Mikey kinda blue
He just turned 7 years old that day
And he thought he'd get a party at school
He walked back home and he's taken off his guard
There's chairs and tables all over the yard
And his friends jumped up and they hollered real hard,
"Happy Birthday to You!"

CHORUS:

It makes me think of the good old days
Happy birthday to you
You sure grew out of your baby ways
Happy birthday to you
(7th 23rd, 92nd) birthday we wish you many more
Health and wealth and friends by the score
Cut the cake and let's eat some more
Happy birthday to you

Now Mike's 22 and he's working for his Pop
And his head's full of business thru and thru
He was planning out a whole new system at the shop
And he forgot he had a birthday due
He drove back home and he's taken off his guard
There's chairs and tables all over the yard
And his friends jumped up and they hollered real hard,
"Happy Birthday to You!"

CHORUS

Now it's old man Michael in a rocking chair
Admiring the view
He's still got all his teeth and he's still got all his hair
And today he's 92
He turns in his seat and he's taken off his guard
There's chairs and tables all over the yard
And his friends jumped up and they hollered real hard,
"Happy Birthday to You!"

CHORUS

Reasons to Believe
words and music by Tim Hardin/Bruce Springsteen

When Tom and I did our very first concert together in 1988 we were throwing out song titles for concert possibilities. "Reason to Believe" Tom offered. "Great!" I responded. He meant the Hardin version, I, the Springsteen. Lo and behold! they harmonized...

Where Were You When
words & music by John McCutcheon

It all started with a bedtime question my youngest son asked during the depths of the Gulf War...

It's just a simple question
All tucked in for the night
Standing in the doorway
Hand upon the light
Just tell me one more story
One you swear is true
Tell me what you did back when
Tell me what to do

Chorus:

Where were you when
Where were you when

Tell me did you feel like me
Small and weak and scared
Tell me is it really true
Were you unprepared
Tell me how we got to here
How you made the plan
Tell me all about yourself
Tell me who I am

Chorus

Bridge:

The pen is in your hand
Your mind sharp like a quill
All the earth is moving
But time is standing still
Everything is waiting
For you to make a move
There's everything to gamble
And nothing left to prove

In another bedroom door
In another time
A face that looked a lot like his
Looked to a face like mine
Naked in the question
Frozen in the light
On the edge of mystery
On the edge of flight
Step out of the history
Step into the light

Chorus

©1991 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Yesterday's Fools
words & music by John McCutcheon

Bob Feldman, head honcho of Red House Records told me about a community in southwestern Kentucky where the farmers retire after a lifetime of work to pontificate at the local feedstore.

"Look at yonder there how his furrow's too deep"
He'll never raise a crop on land that steep"
Rain's a-coming soon, I can feel it in my knee"
It'll wash out all he's doing, you just wait and see"
Yesterday's fools now the works all done
Now they're talkin' 'bout the others in the noonday sun
Just sittin' and a-spittin' and a-laughin' out loud
They're the armchair farmers and the feedstore crowd

He wipes his face with the back of his hand
As he stops to take a look at the fresh-plowed land
And he wonders how he'll finish 'fore the storm rolls in
And how his Daddy ever managed in the days 'fore him
Back when times were better then a man could save
Now it's working from the cradle till they lay you in the grave
Either way the earth is gonna get the best of you
At least that's what they say down at the feed store crew

Caps settin' on pegs all along the wall
The white heads a-bobbin' 'round the old pool hall
A place they never saw in their younger days
At a game that they never had the time to play
Still they're up at four because it's all they know
And at noon they're a-listenin' to the radio
Just bitchin' at the prices of what they ain't growed
And a-whisperin' a prayer for the one across the road

Well, it's just a few more seasons of the sweat and stench
Till I take my place on that old worn bench
Till I start in a-lyin' 'bout the things I done
And a-laughin' at the youngsters in the noonday sun
Yesterday's fools now the works all done
Now they're talkin' 'bout the others in the noonday sun
Just sittin' and a-spittin' and a'laughin' out loud
They're the armchair farmers and the feedstore crowd

©1990 by John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Christmas in the Trenches
words & music by John McCutcheon

Inspired by a back-stage conversation with an old woman in Birmingham, AL, this song tells a story that is not only true, but well-known throughout Europe. For some of the history behind the 1914 WWI Christmas Truce, click here.

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.
'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung,
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.
"He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was "Stille Nacht," "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.
"There's someone coming towards us!" the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell.
We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"
'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.

My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War I I've learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.

©1984 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)

Copper River Bounce/Money Musk
music by John McCutcheon/traditional

The first of these two tunes was written on a rougher-than-usual plane ride coming into the Copper River Delta near Cordova, AK. The second was learned from Paul Van Arsdale, my dulcimer guru, from North Tonawanda, NY. Paul learned the piece from his grandfather (his dulcimer guru), Jesse Martin. Money Musk is played to a popular country dance of the same name.

The Water Is Wide
traditional

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
And neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I

A ship there is and she sails the sea
She's loaded deep as deep can be
But not so deep as this love I'm in
I know not how I sink or swim

I leaned my back against an oak
Thinking it was a trusty tree
But first it bent and then it broke
And thus did my false love to me

Oh, love is gentle and love is kind
The sweetest flower when first it's new
But love grows old and it waxes cold
And fades away like the summer's dew

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
And neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row, my love and I