

That said, I don't know that I'd feel comfortable listening to their version. The story of how Brewer & Shipley got turned onto the song hearing it on the radio is great. When somebody does it well, it does communicate to a wide audience. I think one of the greatest lines that I've seen about any musician was Bill Clinton's saying, "There may not be a serious, committed Baby Boomer alive who didn’t at some point in his or her youth try to spend a few minutes at least trying to pick a guitar like Doc Watson." One of the great things about folk music is the way in which it does carry. I have not particular claim to judge what is or isn't authentic, and it's a complicated topic. Part of why they called it the "folk scare" in the 50's, as I understand, is that there's something scary about the process of turning folk music into pop music and having it performed by people who don't have any connection to the original culture. It's really interesting to hear the song now, it feels very odd to me. I understand why you'd want to keep the record.

Give yourself into this song, and it could just as easily be a sitar-laden raga from the other kind of Indian music. Kind of a cool thing in 1969 to realize that we didn't need no maharishis - we could groove on our own home-grown transcendent culture. We befouled their continent, who are we to judge? Granted, that was before a handful of tribes struck gold with casino wealth, but as a child of the 60s, hey, I'm not gonna begrudge them that.

That was all part of the counterculture mythology, the solidarity with Native Americans.
#Biff rose give yourself tv
Remember that 1971 TV ad about pollution with the crying Indian? (Turns out the actor was Italian-American, but that's 20th-century hucksterism in a nutshell). Let's just submit ourselves to the incantatory flow and go with it. No wonder it's bored itself into my brain lately.Įqually seductive are the half-chanted lyrics, most of them what I've been assuming for a half-century or more are legit Native American poetry: "Witchi tai tai, kimarah / Womanika, womanika / Hey-ney, hey-ney, no-wah." Okay, so there's a few English words at the beginning: "What a spirit spring is bringing round my head / Makes me feel glad that I'm not dead." But let's be honest: That's not a whole lot more comprehensible than the Native American lyrics. Water drums, bongos, congas, whatever they used, this is a track that from start to finish is all about the rhythm. Jim Pepper being a jazz guy and all, it's no surprise that the percussion track of this song is addictive. Talk about a win-win.Īccording to Michael Brewer, the duo kept hearing Pepper's recording of this song on Midwest radio stations (remember when radio was local?) while they were touring. Two sons of the heartland - Brewer from Oklahoma and Tom Shipley from Ohio - these guys simply fell in love this song,īeamed at them out of the Midwestern airwaves. Brewer & Shipley didn't write this song it was written by Jim Pepper, a Native American jazz saxophonist, who incorporated elements of his Creek and Kaw ancestors' peyote songs. So at one stroke, B & S were able to proclaim their solidarity with the oppressed Native American peoples AND with hallucinogenic drugs.
