Johnny Cash - Songs About Native Americans | Free Music, Tour Dates, Photos, Videos

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Johnny Cash talks about the songs.

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Released: Feb 19, 2012

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Johnny Cash talks about the songs.
7:42
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Navajo
2:52
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The Vanishing Race.
4:06
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Apache Tears.
2:37
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Big Foot - Johnny Cash
2:50
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Genre: Country
Location South Dakota, Un
Profile Views: 21058
Last Login: 5/7/2013
Member Since 6/17/2009
Type of Label Unsigned
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.. . JOHNNY CASH has always been an artist concerned about the well being of the common man and, even more, the maltreated minorities (people he'd often sing about), the progressive ideas championed by this new generation of musicians certainly accelerated that evolution. Specifically for this album, a meeting with Native American writer Pete LaFarge was crucial. Although LaFarge was a Hopi Indian, he was an educated intellectual (in Cash's words), raised by a father who'd written a Pulitzer-prize winning novel. As a poet and songwriter in his own right, LaFarge convinced Cash to record his "Ballad of Ira Hayes." Hayes, a Pima Indian from Arizona, had served in World War II and was one of the soldiers who raised the Stars & Stripes after the victory at Iwo Jima (pictures of it would soon become famous), but he'd never felt comfortable with his hero-status (he thought too many of his colleagues had died, without getting any credit), descended into alcoholism and is remembered as "a hero to everyone but himself." Stories like Hayes' made Cash start an intense research: I dove into primary and secondary sources, immersing myself in the tragic stories of the Cherokee and the Apache, among others, until I was almost as raw as Peter. By the time I actually recorded the album I carried a heavy load of sadness and outrage; I felt every word of those songs, particularly "Apache Tears" and "The Ballad of Ira Hayes." I meant every word, too. I was long past the point of pulling my punches. The final result was an album of protest ballads, the "Indian's side of the story," as the liner notes have it. These songs don't have that much in common with traditional country anymore, as the muted foundation of acoustic guitar, bass and drums (and occasionally backing vocals and flute) mainly serve to support Cash's charges, delivered in a spoken/sung style. Not unlike previous efforts, one of the album's main goals – besides a cry for justice, or at least a call for awareness or remorse – seems to be didactic (while avoiding to become overly scholastic). Contrary to the earlier efforts, however, this particular initiative was a challenging and brave achievement, as Cash doesn't refrain from accusing the governmental institution and the feigned ignorance of the white men ("the invader"). This doesn't sound very spectacular these days (and please take my simplification into account as well), but it must've made quite an impression way back in 1964, when numerous people most likely considered it communist propaganda (and the list of radio stations refusing to play Cash's new music was long). The fact that the album started off with a six-minute "As Long as the Grass Shall Grow" probably didn't help matters, either. On top of that, the album's focus on lyrics and its critical message imply the melodies and expectations concerning traditional verse/chorus-structures aren't always met (the fact that five of these songs were written by someone who was primarily a poet also adds to it). "Custer" is a swift country tune that might give you the idea nothing much has changed, but it's surrounded by "Apache Tears" and "The Talking Leaves," gracious but angry songs that progress with the pace of a funeral march. Whether telling the sad story of Hayes or focalising through a Native American descending into alcoholism after being stood up by a white girl ("She thanked me for my offer and I wished that I was dead"), these songs are filled with anger, sadness and hurt pride, perhaps expressed most clearly in the mournful closing track "The Vanishing Race." Because of its peculiar nature and approach, it's hard to consider Bitter Tears just another music album, rather than an accusatory or awareness-arousing statement. When regarding this album strictly on a musical level, it's not very captivating or exciting, in fact, it's quite monotonous; but to this day the passion, indignation and outrage that fired Cash at the time are still very much present. On top of that, the theme never lost its relevance: once in a while, people need to be reminded of certain things. Whereas the listening pleasure is regularly 'obstructed' (if that's the word) by its limitations, Bitter Tears deserves a very high
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JOHNNY CASH - SONGS ABOUT NATIVE AMERICANS

JOHNNY CASH has always been an artist concerned about the well being of the common man and, even more, the maltreated minorities (people he’d often sing about), the progressive ideas championed by this new generation of musicians certainly accelerated that evolution. Specifically for this album, a meeting with Native American writer Pete LaFarge was crucial. Although LaFarge was a Hopi Indian, he was an educated intellectual (in Cash’s words), raised by a father who’d written a Pulitzer-prize winning novel. As a poet and songwriter in his own right, LaFarge convinced Cash to record his “Ballad of Ira Hayes.” Hayes, a Pima Indian from Arizona, had served in World War II and was one of the soldiers who raised the Stars & Stripes after the victory at Iwo Jima (pictures of it would soon become famous), but he’d never felt comfortable with his hero-status (he thought too many of his colleagues had died, without getting any credit), descended into alcoholism and is remembered as “a hero to everyone but himself.” Stories like Hayes’ made Cash start an intense research: I dove into primary and secondary sources, immersing myself in the tragic stories of the Cherokee and the Apache, among others, until I was almost as raw as Peter. By the time I actually recorded the album I carried a heavy load of sadness and outrage; I felt every word of those songs, particularly “Apache Tears” and “The Ballad of Ira Hayes.” I meant every word, too. I was long past the point of pulling my punches. The final result was an album of protest ballads, the “Indian’s side of the story,” as the liner notes have it. These songs don’t have that much in common with traditional country anymore, as the muted foundation of acoustic guitar, bass and drums (and occasionally backing vocals and flute) mainly serve to support Cash’s charges, delivered in a spoken/sung style. Not unlike previous efforts, one of the album’s main goals – besides a cry for justice, or at least a call for awareness or remorse – seems to be didactic (while avoiding to become overly scholastic). Contrary to the earlier efforts, however, this particular initiative was a challenging and brave achievement, as Cash doesn’t refrain from accusing the governmental institution and the feigned ignorance of the white men (“the invader”). This doesn’t sound very spectacular these days (and please take my simplification into account as well), but it must’ve made quite an impression way back in 1964, when numerous people most likely considered it communist propaganda (and the list of radio stations refusing to play Cash’s new music was long). The fact that the album started off with a six-minute “As Long as the Grass Shall Grow” probably didn’t help matters, either. On top of that, the album’s focus on lyrics and its critical message imply the melodies and expectations concerning traditional verse/chorus-structures aren’t always met (the fact that five of these songs were written by someone who was primarily a poet also adds to it). “Custer” is a swift country tune that might give you the idea nothing much has changed, but it’s surrounded by “Apache Tears” and “The Talking Leaves,” gracious but angry songs that progress with the pace of a funeral march. Whether telling the sad story of Hayes or focalising through a Native American descending into alcoholism after being stood up by a white girl (“She thanked me for my offer and I wished that I was dead”), these songs are filled with anger, sadness and hurt pride, perhaps expressed most clearly in the mournful closing track “The Vanishing Race.” Because of its peculiar nature and approach, it’s hard to consider Bitter Tears just another music album, rather than an accusatory or awareness-arousing statement. When regarding this album strictly on a musical level, it’s not very captivating or exciting, in fact, it’s quite monotonous; but to this day the passion, indignation and outrage that fired Cash at the time are still very much present. On top of that, the theme never lost its relevance: once in a while, people need to be reminded of certain things. Whereas the listening pleasure is regularly ‘obstructed’ (if that’s the word) by its limitations, Bitter Tears deserves a very high