Gettin' back in the saddle again
A cover of my favorite old-timey song. With Michael Cera. No, he's not singing with me. But like... it's hard to explain. Just read for yourself.
I started to write this post as a listicle. “5 old-timey songs to startle you with the sheer preciousness of our existence.” Er, something like that... But honestly? I realized that was bullsh*t.
Only one old-timey song has had me in the feels lately, and there’s absolutely no need to come up with four more for listicle bait.
Therefore, I have simplified this for all of us. There is only one song I want to bring to your attention on this here very day. One song that feels like it was written just for me and you.
Because I have a theory: no matter where we may find ourselves in life, this song hits. Every. Single. Time.
The song is called “Clay Pigeons.”
Indeed, it is an “Old-Timey Song”, which I define below based on absolutely nothing but personal opinion:
Old-Timey Song (noun): A tune with a finger-picky, scratchy, tinny nature that exudes warmth and nostalgia. Storytelling over catchiness. Acoustic guitar. A harmonica moment. It’s melancholy meets mountain porch moonshine.
I was first introduced to “Clay Pigeons” in 2014 when it was released by Michael Cera. Yes, I’m talking about thee Michael Cera. Who knew his musical talent went beyond that one time he sang on the Juno soundtrack?
(If you have way too much free time today, do check out Cera’s self-produced album, True That. Decidedly… not too shabby.)
For a moment, “Clay Pigeons” radicalized me into a Michael Cera superfan. I was gabbing to everyone that he was the most underrated lyrical genius of our time. And I was ready to die on that hill—until I found out it was a John Prine cover.
Ok. Duh.
Michael Cera’s rendition still slaps, but c’mon. Ain’t no way a Canadian was behind “Clay Pigeons.”
John Prine is a country-blues legend. “Clay Pigeons” came out in 2005 on his Grammy-winning Fair & Square album. And that made way more sense! I would’ve sworn up and down John Prine wrote “Clay Pigeons” —until I Googled it about an hour ago.
Once again, I’d been misled. To be fair, John Prine gave this song a much wider audience. But the real guy who wrote it never got to see its success … (foreshadowing here… who could it be?!?!??!!!!)
Through this whole debacle, I’ve realized one thing. The writer of “Clay Pigeons” never set out to write a classic. He was just telling the truth about his life. He couldn’t have known that one day, his song would fall into the hands of John Prine—or that decades later, even Michael Cera (and little ol' me) would be covering it, too.
Old-timey songs tend to get passed around. Sometimes their origins get buried in the kerfuffle. But that’s kind of the point. They don’t belong to anyone in particular. They belong to the people, as we play them over and over during the sticky, in-between moments of our lives.
Like the one I find myself in now — starting over again in the United States. “Clay Pigeons” has become part of my life’s soundtrack - my own artistic choice - to help me make peace with the strange little scene playing out before me. A musical reminder that yes sweetheart, it’s time to get back in the saddle again. You can do this.
So. Here’s the real deal.
“Clay Pigeons” was written by a tortured soul who went by the name Blaze Foley.
He endured polio in childhood and later, struggled with addiction. He was shot and killed shortly after the song was released in 1989. Blaze never got to be part of its mainstream success. Still, he is recognized as a major influence on the Texas outlaw country scene, along with his buddy Townes Van Zandt.
Blaze was the true lyrical genius who masterfully packed ever-expansive truths into a simple structure. In fact, the song contains only three words longer than two syllables. Cigarettes. Already. Memories.
Ladies and gentlemen, please pick your poison:
And of course, I had to include my own version. It’s iPhone quality. But this is me getting back in the saddle. Singing again.
Note: I chose to cover John Prine’s slightly more optimistic version of the song—he changed a line or two from Blaze Foley’s original lyrics. For example, instead of “Tryin’ to hide my sorrows from the people I meet,” Prine sings, “Sing my song for the people I meet.”
Here are Blaze Foley’s full lyrics:
I'm goin' down to the Greyhound station Gonna get a ticket to ride Gonna find that lady with two or three kids And sit down by her side Ride 'til the sun comes up and down around me 'Bout two or three times Smokin' cigarettes in the last seat Tryin' to hide my sorrow from the people I meet And get along with it all Go down where the people say y'all Sing a song with a friend Change the shape that I'm in And get back in the game and start playin' again I'd like to stay, but I might have to go To start over again Might go back down to Texas Might go to somewhere that I've never been And get up in the mornin' and go out at night And I won't have to go home Get used to bein' alone Change the words to this song And start singin' again I'm tired of runnin' 'round Lookin' for answers to questions that I already know I could build me a castle of memories Just to have somewhere to go Count the days and the nights that it takes To get back in the saddle again Feed the pigeons some clay, turn the night into day And start talkin' again when I know what to say I'm goin' down to the Greyhound station Gonna get a ticket to ride Gonna find that lady with two or three kids And sit down by her side Ride 'til the sun comes up and down around me 'Bout two or three times Smokin' cigarettes in the last seat Try to hide my sorrow from the people I meet And get along with it all Go down where the people say y'all Feed the pigeons some clay Turn the night into day And start talkin' again when I know what to say
If you feel called, drop your favorite old-timey song in the comments—based on your own definition, of course.
And while you're at it, maybe give the song a Google search… you might be surprised.
(A friend of mine only recently found out that Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love” is indeed a Bob Dylan cover. It happens to the best of us… Ok, that friend was me HA.)
Thanks for being here chickos and chicklettes!!
Until next time,
