Reviews for Talkin' to myself

The average rating for Talkin' to myself based on 2 reviews is 4 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2011-06-10 00:00:00 Christopher Tyson Additional note : there was a broken slate on my roof and some rain leaked into the loft where most of my books are. There was only one book extensively damaged by rain - this one. Now, I don't go to believing in signs and portents, and I don't take no mind to no black cat bone, but the only rain that rained on any of my books rained on the blues. So it did make me wonder. **** Here's the original review: The very last lyric in this splendid volume is on page 719: Told the shoe man, give me a size fourteen My poor bunions, they are hard to me Bunions, bunions, won't you hear my plea Stop your aching, let my poor feet be That one was recorded in 1927 by Richard Yates (not to be confused with the author of Revolutionary Road). One may imagine the sorry condition of poor Robert as he hobbled out of the studio. Blues encompasses many aspects of the human condition - love, sex, death and lack of chiropodists. Blues is often fun, light as the breeze, and sly : I said I flash your lights, mama, you horn won't even blow (spoken: Somebody's been runnin' my batteries down on this machine) Got a short in this connection, hoo well, babe, it's way down below I'm goin' heist your hood, mama, I'm bound to check your oil Now, you know the coils ain't even buzzin', little generator won't get the spark Motor's in a bad condition, you gotta have these batteries charged I'm gon' get down in this connection, keep on tanglin' with these wires And when I mash down on your little starter, then your spark plug will give me fire That's the well-known Robert Johnson's Terraplane Blues. But to change gear completely, blues is also sad and fierce and doesn't flinch from a raw self-revelation which runs counter to its often macho posturings - such as when Bukka White sings "Strange Place Blues": I'm a stranger at this place, and I'm looking for my mother's grave Well it seems like to me, someone must stoled it away I thought after my mother was put away, I thought my wife would take her place I show you the difference in a mother and a wife, my wife she throwed me away I wish I could find someone to take my mother's place I'm standing on my mother's grave, and I wish I could see her face This book is remarkable, it's just the transcriptions of 2000-plus songs by over 350 singers recorded before 1942. It's the perfect companion piece to Paul Oliver's Blues Fell This Morning, which is a very compelling exploration of the world of these singers channeled through their art. So this is the country blues, played on acoustic instruments. When black singers moved to the cities, as they did in great numbers during and after World War Two, they found they had to go electric just to make themselves heard in the new juke joints they found themselves in. And the nature of blues changed. For one thing, they seemed to narrow their lyrical themes down to one : cheatin'. And for two, it all became music to dance to (either fast or slow). Country blues was often that too, but it did include a great element of introspection which got lost in the bustle of Chicago and Baltimore. Last word to Ida Cox, in case you may think country blues is a boy's club (which it mostly was, but not always): I was never known to treat no one man right I keep them working, both day and night You never get nothing by being an angel child I want to tell you something , and it ain't a lie Wild women are the only kind that will do It doesn't rhyme, but it rocks.

Review # 2 was written on 2014-03-27 00:00:00 John Aguurs Sr This is a god bock for people that like bock's and magic Johnson.