Douglas Fisher

After SOOOOOOO liking the String Cheese Incident’s version of I Know You Rider (link at very end), I eventually got to “String Cheese Incident-Stir it up into I Know You Rider”, which was shot at the same concert by the same person — Grunzy — as the other video. I highly recommend

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmLK8r5A34w&feature=related

If you are not a fan of “Stir it up”, then skip to 2:00 because a transition and slow build starts there. I found this build pleasing, and an emotional/spiritual reward comes towards the end of the video that made me glad I was human — it lasts about 45 seconds. Even now, 8 seconds before the climax hits, I wonder how they are going to get there, and then at 7 seconds beforehand its clear. And moreover, this reward is pushed back, it seems, making the music that comes before it even more pleasing than it had been before.

I listened to the whole thing in background while doing something else, then did a rewind to a second transition at about 3:00min, then after another listen, to the first transition at about 2:00min, and now the reward has backpropagated to the start — the Stir It Up section is now more pleasing, I think, because of where it leads, not just to the climax towards the end, but to that first transition at minute 2.

“String Cheese Incident-Stir it up into I Know You Rider”, shot by Grunzy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmLK8r5A34w&feature=related

“String Cheese Incident-I Know You Rider”, shot by Grunzy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mjym8BiCDM&feature=related

I love music — it could easily dominate my time if I let it, and it probably does more than I’m conscious of. I seem to have a creative spark for music/melody because I’ve worked, what I consider to be, some very good stuff out in my head. Though I’ve played piano and organ, at one point quite well off the sheet, there may be some fundamental limitations in my wiring between a good, creative central processor of my music mind and the input/output of ears, voice and hands, because I’ve never been able to play by ear — not even close.

In any case, I like a lot — a lot — of performances, and cues other than audio can make a big difference. I love Tony Bennett Live (he commands the stage and he charms the audience, me included), for example, but I don’t listen to him outside a concert hall, and wouldn’t have gone to begin with, had Patricia not loved his stuff — same with classical, same with acoustic blues, …, though I could imagine some of that changing if given the chance. There are performances of songs by one artist that I have listened to virtually all of my double-digit life — “Get Ready” (21 min) by Rare Earth or Ted Nugent’s The Great White Buffalo off of Double Live Gonzo, for example — with proven staying power, but I don’t think that I would take to other covers by the same or different artists — in the case of something like Get Ready and the Great White Buffalo, I know that I don’t. In some of these cases, it might be that there is an emotional response that still is triggered and associated from adolescence, but it’s not simply that — there are aspects of the arrangement and performance, some transitions or riffs, that are subtle and sublime.

Then there are some songs, pieces, melodies, lyrics that are glorius regardless of cover or artist. Mine certainly includes “A Mighty Fortress is Our God”, “Scotland the Brave”, “Girl of the North Country”, Good King Wenceslaus, and maybe “Hoedown” (Copeland), “Gloria” (Morrison), “Time Has Come Today”, “Scarlet Begonias”, “Born on the Bayou”, …. One that is definitely in this list, no maybes, at the top in fact, is “I Know You Rider”, sometimes “Know You Rider”, and on occassion, simply “Rider” (traditional), right up there with some Luther, Bach, and Dylan.

I was reminded of all this while talking to a visitor to NSF on Thursday, who knew Vanderbilt and Nashville well. I told her about the Station Inn, a hole in the wall with great Bluegrass (as if Bluegrass can’t be great — the beauty of Bluegrass is that it pairs sorrowful lyrics with happy music — when you are down, you attach to the lyrics and the music lifts you up), and she told me about some club in DC, where The Seldom Scene got started and still played  — “wait a minute, the Seldom Scene!?”. I pulled out my iPod and showed her “Rider (Seldom Scene)”, she replied “No Way! That’s my favorite song of theirs!” — she had it too, and she had two Grateful Dead versions of “I Know You Rider”. I didn’t check, but I’m guessing they were the same two I have on my iPod — Europe ‘72 and a very different version — live from 1966 — both versions include Garcia’s and Rock’s best (empyrean!) short guitar solos, extended riffs really — rock bluegrass at its best. Then she said that she had a version by Hot Tuna off of iTunes … hmm, I didn’t have that ….

The first version of “I Know You Rider” that I heard was by The Seldom Scene on SF Public TV in 1979 … unbelievably, here it is, the very same performance: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nk9vhhGyRyo&feature=related. Shortly thereafter my brother turned me on to the Grateful Dead’s 1966 version, off one of the History of the Grateful Dead albums, one that had been pulled from circulation due to some legal dispute, but he’d found the album in a used record shop. I worried as long as 25 years ago, as a grad, that my remaining cassette recording of it was either going to wear out, melt or get eaten, and now the version can be had off of iTunes.

For my money, strange to say, the best YouTube version of the song is by String Cheese Incident at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mjym8BiCDM&feature=related. Don’t watch it in public, even with headphones, if you are self-conscious about moving your body, because you will move, people might see, and laugh … you won’t care in the moment, of course, but afterwards you might beat yourself up. The Seldom Scene version above is a close second in my NSHO. A decent rockin’ version on YouTube is by Great Caesar’s Ghost, and following in the Grateful Dead’s post-1968 practice, its preceded by “China Cat Sunflower”, morphing into “I Know You Rider” at about 4:00min, with a good guitar solo at about 5:40 into the video). Good YouTube acoustic versions are at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8wSXqaNFCs&feature=related, at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyhxukg_dZg&feature=related (starting at about 5:30 into the video by these two likeable characters), and Hot Tuna’s at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghR_Lme2SEM. Joan Baez’ version (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hUvbCnhJ30&feature=related) is lovely, with some neat differences in lyric consistent with the Wikipedia entry (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Know_You_Rider) claim this is a traditional woman’s blues song.
All, except The Seldom Scene versions, are influenced by the Grateful Dead post-1968 versions. I hesitate to post Grateful Dead versions from YouTube though — they just don’t compare to the recorded live versions (1966, 1972) that you can buy off of iTunes — some things in life, you just have to pay for. But for a taste of the Grateful Dead experience, hear rockin’ GD from 1970, morphing into “I Know You Rider” at about 5:00 min into the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvq2JTWdJ1U.

In a classic contest of “who would win, if …”, a former student pitted the GD’s Europe ‘72 version againt The Seldom Scene’s studio version on her Vanderbilt Bluegrass radio show about 5 years ago — The Seldom Scene won. I’ll take either, both, or other — in the right hands, maybe Donna Summer, I can even imagine I’d like a disco version.

—

I know you rider, going to miss me when I’m gone
Going to miss your baby from rolling in your arms

I laid down last night, I could not take my rest
My mind was wandering like the wild geese of the west

I wish I was a headlight on a northbound train
I would shine my light through the cool (or cruel) Colorado rain

The sun is going to shine through our backdoor some day
Harsh winds are going to blow all our cares away

I know you rider, going to miss me when I’m gone
Going to miss your baby from rolling in your arms

—

To some versions, certainly GD versions, a lyric like this is added

Id rather drink muddy water and sleep in a hollow log
Than to be here in Frisco and treated like a dirty dog

Pat and I went to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving with her “cousin” Mavis and husband Greg — “cousin” in quotes because half of Pat’s “cousins” are unrelated by blood, but members of big merged families — so Mavis’ father Jack, so long refered to as “Uncle Jack”, was an old Army buddy of Pat’s father, and their wives bonded as sisters when both families lived in Chicago, and their many children bonded as cousins. It took me time to catch on to all this.

We got up at 3AM (I got up and made the coffee, then she got up!) on Thanksgiving morning, caught a cab to Union Station, then a two hour train ride to Philadelphia. We arrived just after day break at the 30th Street Station, met by Greg on the platform, then walked a block to their loft — very cool — overlooking the city, including City Hall, with William Penn topping the steeple.

We got along well with Greg and Mavis, and their friend Gayle, for Thanksgiving itself. Greg thought it a good sign when I got off the train Thursday morning in shortsleeves, and learned that my nickname as an undergraduate was “polar bear” — Greg’s an energy miser, which Mavis had to accept as part of their wedding vows earlier this year (and trust me, Greg had to accept some stuff too) — we watched a video of their wedding on Mavis’ laptop — a lot of fun — a good crew. We got in a bit of touring in on Thanksgiving itself — saw the Liberty Bell, for example, with no line — and the next day the line was around the block — I wanted to yell “See the video!”.

The highlight of Friday’s tour though was Christ Church (http://www.christchurchphila.org/Historic_Christ_Church/73/; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christ_Church,_Philadelphia), and a lecture by one of the young volunteers shortly after we got there. During the lecture, Pat and I sat in the “Dignitaries Pew” — where George and Martha Washington had regularly sat, John Adams too, even Lafayette on one occasion. All 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence had attended at one time or another, and 15 had been members; something like 9 were buried in the Church or it’s immediate property, another 4 or so in the church burial yard some distance away. Absalom Jones (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Absalom_Jones) was ordained there; it was at Christ Church that the Episcopal Church of the US was founded; the baptismal font is over 600 years old; it’s steeple was the highest built structure in North America for 50+ years; it’s pulpit was apparently where the first PUBLIC act of treason against England was committed — after the Declaration had been signed, but before its first public reading. Christ Church is a modest, amazing place.

Towards the end of the lecture, the young woman made reference to the burial vaults that lined the floor of the church, including the center aisle, and she that they were there to be walked on — these were among the founders of the church, and the foundation of the church, and when you walked on them, you were (to be) reminded of your roots — that you were linked to the past, and it to you ………. I’ve got to tell you that I have always felt that way about burial yards — there is something that I find easing about a burial yard, whether notables that I know are buried there or not, and I’ll go out of my way to walk around one. Christ Church burial ground, where Benjamin Franklin rests and many others, was no different in the easing. A graveyard reminds me that I belong to the human race, stress on both ‘belong’ and on ‘human’.