St. James Infirmary Blues

Jag frågade den gode Ray Noori om han inte ville bidra med en gästlista på bloggen. Han accepterade med entusiasm och ger oss idag, denna Holmér-fredag, en dissekering av en av tidernas största blues-klassiker.
Enjoy!

HTTP: St. James Infirmary Blues
RIKTIG: St. James Infirmary Blues


St. James Infirmary Blues

Georges Polti argues that every dramatic situation in film, theatre, or literature is simply one of seven variations on the classical Greek dramas, endlessly distilled and interpreted to suit new characters, new settings, and new context. A recent documentary, The Aristocrats, explored the same concept, chronicling the legendary eponymous joke as told by tens of different comedians. With each unique telling, the joke took on a different tone, was funny at various points in its recounting, and even had varied punchline. It's called the infinitely malleable joke. 

For me, the equivalent of that concept in modern music, is the composition St. James Infirmary Blues. A folkloric tune of anonymous origin (it's sometimes credited to the songwriter Joe Primrose), the song is a relatively simple 12-bar blues treatment of a 16th-century traditional English folk song called The Unfortunate Rake, and it details the ambiguous plight of a soldier, his girl (by some accounts a prostitute), and their deaths, in the bowels of a bar, surrounded by gambling and alcohol. 

 

The simple chord progression can lend itself to endless improvisation and interpretation, making this composition a favourite of jazz musicians throughout the late 20s and early 30s, with Louis Armstrong bringing the tune into the popular American consciousness via his 1928 recording of it. Some of the legendary figures of early African-American blues like Blind Willie McTell took the song back to its negro spirituals origins, putting the focus on the blues riffs and the prototypical delta blues storytelling. 

In the 60s, the song saw a return back to folkloric roots, with influential figures of the folk scene like Pete Seeger and Dave Van Ronk co-opting the composition into a balladeering style. The lyrics, much like the melody, allows for endless variations. The fact that the story is being regaled to another, allows the narrative framing device to be stretched with added words, describing the setting and the present company. The Arlo Guthrie version, and particularly a later, disco-influenced version of the song, particularly play with this aspect. 

It's all one song. It's all the same story. Yet, it feels entirely new and fresh at every turn. And it still could, for it's the infinitely malleable song. 

/Ray