My mother had another album that I played, over and over. The cover had a picture of a black man in an undershirt, very big and strong-looking. The name of this album was The Josh White Stories.
This singing was pure soul. It was recorded before the coming of rock and roll. The words to all of the songs were on the back of the album cover.
I never heard singing like this. Like Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops, Josh White sang with a cry in the back of his throat. I was very young and knew nothing about music. So I did the best thing a music-lover does: sit and listen, over and over, for phrasing, nuances, volume. After a while I was an expert on Josh White.
This was the first time I’d heard the song “House of the Rising Sun.” I was completely at sea. I didn’t even know what houses of prostitution were. I was puzzled. “…and it’s been the ruin of many a poor girl, and God, I know I’m one.” What was he talking about? Also, this Josh White sang the old, terrible, so-sad song called “One Meat Ball.” Now this song I understood. He also sang “Frankie and Johnny.”
But my favorite–and I think that it may have been recorded by others–was Midnight Special.
Yonder comes Miss Rosie/ How in the world you know?
I can tell her by her apron/and the clothes she wore
Umbrella on her shoulder/piece of paper in her hand
Gonna see the governor/ to turn loose her man…
Let the Midnight Special shine its light on me.
Let the Midnight Special shine its ever-lovin’ light on me.
I was only seven or eight but I had a heart and a soul and I knew what this was about. Being imprisoned, and a train called the Midnight Special went past this awful place every night, with a light on it that shone down.
lgmwriting 