Jesse Winchester
I lived with the decent folks
In the hills of old Vermont
I know I’ve become the obituary guy, but Jesse Winchester had a place in the firmament and now he’s been completely forgotten, a footnote who’s succumbed to the sands of time.
Kind of like “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?”
No one knows that flick anymore, at least not those of college age, even Princeton attendees, check out Frank Bruni’s column for the story
It’s kind of like jetting forty years into the future and finding out no one knows what an iPod is.
Actually, that music playing device is already fading, just like the iTunes Store.
But my point is tech runs this century.
But music ran the last one.
Especially before we were all connected, when we could only find our brethren if we left our house and went to the gig.
And before we did, we played our records.
But not many played Jesse Winchester’s debut, because like Todd Rundgren’s initial LP, it was released on Ampex, and labels mattered.
Actually, they still do today.
And it’s about marketing and radio, but back then it was also about distribution. Which is king. If it’s not available, you can’t buy it, most people were completely unaware of Jesse Winchester’s debut.
Except for those who read the reviews.
And heard the covers of “Yankee Lady” by Brewer & Shipley and Tim Hardin and Matthews Southern Comfort.
Yankee lady so good to me
Yankee lady just a memory
1970 was a twist from what came before. It was the era of back to the land. After Kent State, after the first Earth Day, we began to look inward, we began to move to the hinterlands.
Assuming we weren’t in Vietnam getting our ass shot off.
That’s another thing the younger generation is clueless about. That through no fault of your own, you might get shipped off to a meaningless war and die, or come back so damaged you never recovered.
First you had to register for the draft.
That’s when you became a man.
And you got a four year educational deferment and then…
It was open season.
Sure, we talked a lot about music, but we also talked a lot about Vietnam, the war, the chance we had to go.
Jesse Winchester did not. He fled to Canada. When that was a rare choice.
That was the legacy of the sixties, an emphasis on thinking for yourself. Which is out the window once more. The Dixie Chicks’ career ended when they expressed a nonconformist opinion, and despite being entrepreneurial, today’s youngsters all hew to the group.
Jesse’s career was irreparably impaired. Being on Ampex and unable to tour in the States.
But it’s the hard choices that build character.
So let his life be a beacon. That sometimes you’ve got to save yourself, because no one else will.
You’ve got to protest against injustice.
And if your message is not heard, maybe you’ve got to move on.
The fabric of our nation has changed so much. We celebrate neither rugged individuals nor freethinkers.
But they’re the ones who are truly Americans. Those who lead by example as opposed to hectoring.
So dial up some Jesse Winchester if you remember.
Or listen to a cover of “Yankee Lady.”
But know once upon a time the problem wasn’t too much information, but too many questions. Our parents were not our best friends. We were influenced first and foremost by our own generation. To test the limits. To question authority.
To rally around the music for change.
And that’s why this music means so much to us.
And Jesse Winchester might just be a footnote, but he’s in there.
Because back then there were one hit wonders, but no one was listening to AM radio.
We were home, spinning soul-fulfilling stuff on our turntables, like Jesse Winchester.
