December 2013

Swamp Stomp

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Johnson)

Out of the swamp, out of the mud
Beasts of the wild and a flock of white doves
Man’s in the distance, tools in the shed
Gun’s in his holster till his hunger goes unfed

Take my health, throw me out in the cold
Give me filth and the wisdom of the old
Take my pride, give a penny to the poor
Give me reason, give me rhyme, give me love, and give me war

Old Joe from the swamp swore he’d fight off the flood
When the storm a-come he took out his gun
He shot at the rain, cursed at the sky
All the town fled and he just stayed home to die

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Bury Me on the Mountain

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Bartleby J. Budde)

1-2-3 the battle
4-5-6 the war
Bury me on the mountain
Can’t count the dead no more

You ain’t know what I seen
From the hills above
You ain’t know where I been
It’s hard to live and love

1-2-3 the battle
4-5-6 the war
Bury me on the mountain
Can’t count the dead no more

I’ll wander through the mountains
Till I find my way
Join you in the sleep of
Our eternal grave

1-2-3 the battle
4-5-6 the war
Bury me on the mountain
Can’t count the dead no more

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Coming To Me

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Budde/Johnson)

The trouble is your troubles
No sense digging your own grave
You’re standing in my way
If you’re coming here to save me
Then you better come to me as an angel

Smoke rings tell the time in a world full of lies
You promised me a home and a child should I die
Revealed to me your secrets
You wrote them down in rhyme
If you’re coming here to take me
You better come as an undertaker

Why does the soul of a man who’s been condemned
Shiver in the heat of an eternity of sin?
You’re coming to me as a doctor
You’re coming to me as a lawyer
You’re coming to me as the devil
You’re coming to me, you’re coming to me
You’re coming to me as a banker
You’re coming to me as an angel
You’re coming to me as a beggar
You’re coming to me, you’re coming to me

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Jon From and His Cargo Cults

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Budde)

1941
I met old Jon From
‘rived in a metal bird
1941

Came here bearing gifts
Likes of which I never seen
Food from cans instead of fields
Snatched us from our savagery
Spoke to God in his little device
God spoke back his own advice
Heard the voice, the holy one
Holding court with old Jon From

1943
Jon From abandoned me
Took his bird, he took his cans
Left us with our barren lands
One day in February
Jon From will come back to me
Bringing cargo in his bird
Likes of which I never heard

1941
I met old Jon From
‘rived in a metal bird
1941

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Valse de Balfa

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Balfa Brothers)

Quand j’ai parti de la maison
J’avais fait mon idée
J’étais parti pour te chercher, cher,
Où mourir au bout de mon sang

Quand j’ai arrivé à ta maison
J´en ai trouvé un autre avec toi
Ça, ça a cassé mon cœur, cher,
J’aimerais mieux mourir que voir ça

Si j´aurais cinq jours dans ma vie
J’en donnerais trois dans les cinq
Pour passer las deux autres avec toi
J’aimerais mourir dans tes bras

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Down By The River

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Budde/Johnson)

Down by the river
There’s a field, I’ll meet you there
When the sun has set
And the darkness steals the air

40 days and 40 nights
You kept me waiting for my pay
On hands and knees I toiled
Now I’m gonna break these chains

Down by the river
There’s a field of shallow ground
Heard a tale of buried treasure
Not more than six feet down

Bring a pickax
I’ll bring a lamp
Bring a sac
I’ll give you a chance
To come up with my pay
Lest we must trade
For your head I’ll say
I’ll take it away

Tell your papa and tell your brothers
They can search me across the land
I’ll be traveling with my treasure
Your body I’ll leave in the sands

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Death on the Mountain

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Johnson)

Spring is the season when things grow
I’ll die on my knees in a shady grove
Wake up and fight, and sing your song
I’ll die on the mountain or I’ll die too young

We’ll die for this, we’ll die for that
Pretty soon there won’t be nothing left

The president is sworn in, repeats an old oath
I’ll wake up in the morning or I’ll wake up all alone
Find me a woman can make a good wife
I’ll give her anything, including my own life

We’ll die for this, we’ll die for that
Pretty soon there won’t be nothing left
We’ll die for this, we’ll die for that

When fall comes up us things begin to die
I’ll learn you the word of God and I’ll tell you countless lies
The preacher says a prayer, puts on his old robe
I’ll learn you how to love your friends or conquer all your foes

We’ll die for this, we’ll die for that
Pretty soon there won’t be nothing left
We’ll die for this, we’ll die for that
Pretty soon there won’t be nothing left

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Unpaid Bill

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Bartleby J. Budde)

Pass it to me
I wanna play too
Pass it to me
I’m just like you
Pass it to me
Let me play too
Pass it to me

Sticks and stones
May break my bones
But your words
Hurt me deeper than you know
Be careful what you say
Gotta make this my home too

Pass it to me
I wanna play too
Pass it to me
I’m just like you
Pass it to me
Let me play too
Pass it to me

Laugh at my face
Laugh at my style
Laugh at my talk
Then ask yourself why
I’m all alone
You won’t pass it to me

Pass it to me
I wanna play too
Pass it to me
I’m just like you
Pass it to me
Let me play too
Pass it to me

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Man from Oblivion

Album: Death on the Mountain
(Johnson)

I am the man from oblivion
Everything I learned, I have since forgotten
I’ll come to you as a gypsy
I’ll come to you as an Arabian prince
I’ll come to you as a hometown bum

I’ll come holding destiny in my right hand
Loved and un-bathed and rejected where I stand
Sometimes you only see what you want to believe
Well, I am the man from oblivion
Everything I learned, I have since forgotten

I am the man from oblivion
Everything I learned, I have since forgotten
Always seems to be a piece of what you been in what you are
I stare to the sky, I feel the rain, but I still see the stars
From the clouds to the clay, I’ll be as true as a man can say

I am not a bad man for loving too much
You say that ain’t, that ain’t, that ain’t love
Well, the part of me that agrees brings me to my knees
I am diseased, fallen from the trees
I am the man from oblivion
Everything I learned, I have since forgotten

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2013–75 shows, 2 new band members, 1 new album, and an independent record label

(click photo to enlarge)

 

By: Colton Alexander Gagnon, Montreal, QC, December 14, 2013

This past year has kept the boys of Ol’ Savannah on the road and in the studio.  The band’s third album in as many years, “Death on the Mountain” seeks to haunt and trance audiences away from the run-of-the-mill, happy-go-lucky, over-saccharrine melodies and harmonies of traditional folk music.   Speedy Johnson’s vocals mixed with the instrumentation (banjo, accordion, guitar, bass, and percussion) reveal a “threatening, sinister air…yet the beauty of the songs is never overwhelmed.”

Stream the entire album at www.olsavannah.bandcamp.com

All the songs were written by Speedy Johnson and Bartleby J. Budde, with the exception of their rendition of the Balfa Brothers’ Valse de Balfa.   Here are “two men on the same wave length with a vision of their music that is constantly evolving, drawing in new ideas that keep everything so fresh and original.”

I met up with “the boys”, who also include Kevin Labchuk, Tim van de Ven, and Ram Krishnan, in a downtown-Montreal watering hole.  A place where one orders an Irish Car Bomb only to receive a dirty look and a finger that points to Crescent Street. Appropriately, the bar is called Grumpy’s.  We raised a shot glass full of whiskey, toasted to another “shit-year”, and I began the interview.

How were all of your childhoods?

Van de Ven was the first to say, “I grew up in Ontario”.  Budde interrupted and said, “shut up. Nobody cares.”  Labchuk squeezed in a comment about the Canadian Navy and its sixteen ships.  

If you were women, how different do you think your music would be?

[I got nothing but silence save Krishnan’s grumble, then  Johnson called for another round.]

Do you worry about whether people like you for the real you?

“I think it’s like a box of cereal.  Sometimes you read the back of the box and forget all about filling the bowl,” said Johnson.

Budde added, ” That’s entirely correct.”

When do you go back in the studio?

“We got some material for the next album.  Hold on to your britches and find out.”  [I’ll refrain from naming who said this.  This was kind of a ‘dickish’ thing to say, and I’m better than that.]

Why don’t you guys play top 40 hits instead and try to make some real dough?

[I tried my best to piece together all the fragments that came hurling into the small microphone of my hand-held recorder]

“Have you no decency!?” “Like Mumfords and Son!?” “‘Nother round, [EXPLETIVE DELETED]”  “I did that once in grade 12…best 4 years of my life!” “I am cheese and this cheese gots taste!” “I’m Spartacus!”