MOG

December is the month of the phonograph record. I made that up. But it is. I'll be observing it all month at my mog and I encourage you to observe it with me. For the original post declaring December the month of the phonograph record, click here. Join the conversation!

Tower Records in Manhattan used to have an annex store with a few hundred cut-out bin records.

On a visit to NYC sometime in the mid-nineties (accompanied, it should be noted, by the distinguished mogger Andrew), I pillaged the annex and came away with a pile of releases - still wrapped - from Folkways Records & Services Corp. (now Smithsonian Folkways).

Have you ever seen one of these records? The Corp. did not mess around. The sleeves were thick cardboard. The cover was paper glued to the cardboard. Inside, there was a thick record - thick like a 78 - and a mimeographed insert with liner notes and lyrics - the inserts looked and read a little like zines.

My Folkways haul that day included the recorded testimony of a Watergate conspirator, the recited works of a Russian poet, something called 'The Young Composer's Orchestra', and a 10" collection called 'English Folk Songs Sung by Wallace House.'

The Wallace House record (that name!) was released in 1954. There's a black and white photo on the cover. House looked a little like John Waters - a connection cemented by songs with titles like 'I'm Seventeen Cum Sunday,' 'Because I Were Shy,' and 'Gently Johnny, My Jingalo.'

Back home in Minneapolis, I put the record on and was enchanted from the first line of the first song. It was a song about an old guy falling for a teenage girl...and against all odds it was gorgeous. The whole record is gorgeous, even when it's a bit absurd.

'Gently Johnny My Jigalo' is the song I love the most. The lyrics walk a fine line between creepy and sweet - I guess it depends on the listener (and the balladeer...there are many versions of this song, and House chose the most sexually benign of them).

Anyway...House sings:

I put my hand all in her own Fair maid is a lilly, O, She said "If you luv me alone Cum to me quietly, do not do me injury Gently, Johnny, my Jingalo"

I kissed her lips like rubies red Fair maid is a lilly, O, She laughed and turned away her face. "Cum to me quietly, do not do me injury Gently, Johnny, my Jingalo"

And on and on. Eventually they marry.

Once you've heard him sing that "Fair maid is a lilly, O" bit, you're hooked. At least I was.

House gave me a hankering for the English folk ballad. For years I've hunted for some contemporary singer who could charm me the way House did (and does). I'd be grateful for any tips.

For now, I'm getting my fix through Alasdair Roberts, who I had never heard until a week ago.

If these were the days of the cassette (have I mentioned that February will be the month of the cassette tape here at my mog?) I would certainly have made a tape with House on one side and Roberts on the other. The two are wonderfully complimentary.

Listen to House over at my Multiply page...then watch this performance of 'The Lady and the Blacksmith'...you'll see what I mean.

Posted on 12/21/2006