S**t Folksingers Say
You’ve seen the meme around the web – videos posted and shared all over Twitter and Facebook featuring cliched phrases about a certain town or profession. My friend in Austin posted “S**it Austinites say,” my friend who’s a minister posted “S**t seminarians say.” Even I posted to my yoga teacher friend’s wall: “S**t yogis say.”
But what about folksingers?
Once I’ve stopped rolling my eyes at the sheer predictability of it all, I start to feel a little left out. Folksingers say s**t. So, rather than wait for someone else to make the video or write the post, I’ve come up with an entry of my own:
Wait a sec, how do you make a d-minor chord again?
I was up all night with Pete Seeger’s banjo book.
I was up all night reading ‘Woody Guthrie: A Life.’
I was up all night writing a song about Occupy Wall Street.
I was up all night contra dancing.
I was up all night walking on train tracks, just to see where they go.
I was up all night drinking whiskey and thinking about whether or not there’s enough space in my backyard to build a yurt.
I was up all night driving ten hours to the next town for my gig at the Unitarian church.
I wrote a song about my chickens last night.
She’s a little too Ani DiFranco-y.
He’s a little too Steve Earle-ish.
Wanna sing harmony on this?
Can you play mandolin? I just need a quick mandolin solo.
We met and fell in love and built a life together and broke up, in the span of one Kerrville Folk Festival.
I sat in with [insert name] at Folk Alliance last year.
I don’t read music.
I’m just a guitar player.
It’s all about the lyrics.
