It also made me nostalgic for the day when my best friend Evelyn and I would joke about starting a band. It never happened, mostly because I’m a dancer, not a singer. I can dance to a tune but I can’t carry one to save my life. Still, it’s always fun to play What If? and listen to good music.
On Monday, when I watched The Seven-Upswith Jeff, Leonard, Bradley, and his wife Sierra (as well as one of our favorite TSL commenters, Dougie Cooper), I was struck by the fact that the film’s score sounded a lot like the score forThe French Connection. At first, I figured that it was just a sign of how influential The French Connection was but later, I learned both score were composed by the same man, Don Ellis.
I’ve been thinking about The French Connection a lot since I first heard that Gene Hackman had passed away. A few years ago, I was lucky enough to attend a secret showing of The French Connection at the Alamo Drafthouse. The film worked wonderfully on the big screen, with that car chase leaving me totally breathless. Gene Hackman’s performance as Popeye Doyle was undeniably powerful, his hyperactive and self-destructive pursuit of Charnier filling the entire theater with both dread and excitement. Even though we knew how the film would end, those of us in the audience still couldn’t look away.
Anyway, this is all my rambling way to brag about going to a secret screening of The French …. no wait, wait. Actually, this is my rambling way of introducing today’s song of the day. Here is Don Ellis’s Theme FromThe French Connection.
Arkansas’s own Johnny Cash would have been 93 years old today so it seems appropriate that his voice should also be featured in our song of the day. Here is Folsom Prison Blues, a song that Johnny actually sang while performing at the prison for people who very may have shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.
Really, that’s what makes Johnny Cash such an American icon. On the one hand, he was a religious country boy who wrote songs about his spiritual troubles and his everlasting faith. On the other, he could make you cheer at the idea of shooting a man in Reno just to watch him die.
That’s talent.
I hear the train a comin’ It’s rolling round the bend And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when I’m stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin’ on But that train keeps a rollin’ on down to San Antone
When I was just a baby my mama told me “Son, always be a good boy, don’t ever play with guns” But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry
I bet there’s rich folks eating in a fancy dining car They’re probably drinkin’ coffee and smoking big cigars Well I know I had it coming, I know I can’t be free But those people keep a movin’ And that’s what tortures me
Well if they freed me from this prison If that railroad train was mine I bet I’d move it on a little farther down the line Far from Folsom prison, that’s where I want to stay And I’d let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
Today’s song of the day comes to us from George Harrison, who would have been 82 on this day.
All Things Must Pass is a song that Harrison originally wrote for the Beatles. While the song didn’t make it into Abbey Road, it did later serve as the title track for Harrison’s first post-Beatles album.
Sunrise doesn’t last all morning A cloudburst doesn’t last all day Seems my love is up And has left you with no warning It’s not always gonna be this grey
All things must pass All things must pass away
Sunset doesn’t last all evening A mind can blow those clouds away After all this my love is up And must be leaving But it’s not always going To be this grey
All things must pass All things must pass away
All things must pass None of life’s strings can last So I must be on my way And face another day
Now the darkness only stays at night time In the morning it will fade away Daylight is good At arriving at the right time But it’s not always going To be this grey
All things must pass All things must pass away All things must pass All things must pass away
Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly With his song
I heard he sang a good song I heard he had a style And so I came to see him, to listen for a while And there he was, this young boy A stranger to my eyes
Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly With his song
I felt all flushed with fever Embarrassed by the crowd I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish But he just kept right on
Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly With his song
He sang as if he knew me In all my dark despair And then he looked right through me as if I wasn’t there And he just kept on singing Singing clear and strong
Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly With his song
Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me
He was strumming my pain Yeah, he was singing my life Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song