Shickley Mix is next. Are you ready, Peter?
I'm always ready. Here's the theme.
Hello there, I'm Peter Shickley. And this is Shickley Mix, a program dedicated to the proposition that all musics are created equal. Or, as Duke Ellington put it, if it sounds good, it is good.
Now there's good and bad, and then there's evil. The good part is that our bills are being paid by the American Public Radio Program Fund, whose contributors include the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation,
by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and also by this good radio station. The evil part is the rest of our show, which is called The Devil to Pay.
Some people believe that the devil quite literally walks among us, in a human body. Others think of the devil more as a metaphor, and others think of the devil as a metaphor for evil. The first belief is much scarier.
The idea that evil incarnate as a person that we might be dealing with, making friends with, falling in love with, without ever noticing anything amiss until it's too late.
It's an idea so deeply terrifying that its appeal transcends traditional religion. When I was 10 and 11, my father used to take my brother and me to the movies every Friday night.
The feature was almost always a western. Once in a while, it might have been Tarzan. But in addition to the feature, there was always a cartoon and the latest chapter of a serial. The serial I remember best was called The Purple Monster.
An interesting title, given the fact that the movie was in black and white. The Purple Monster came from Mars, but he could take over an earthling's body,
and you'd never know the difference, unless you could trip him up with some bit of arcane earth knowledge. Subtitles by the Amara.org community Of course, that became a staple of post-World War II sci-fi movies, taking over a body.
And it calls to mind a much earlier story, that of Count Dracula. Not only were the English people in the story often unaware that one of their circle had become someone quite different,
thanks to the able fangs of Dracula, but the Count himself could change at will into a wolf, or a bat, or even, as in Francis Ford Coppola's movie, into mist.
Remember, at one point he turns into mist, so that he can seep into a room under the door or through the French windows. My wife and I saw that movie with another couple, and the other husband just hated it.
As we were walking to the car afterwards, he said, Man, if I could turn into mist, I would have seeped out of that theater a long time ago.
Well, a good Dracula movie may have some laughs in it, but it has to have at least one true shiver. Not just a jolt that comes from somebody sneaking in.
But the shiver that comes from the realization, the revelation, that the face you see may look like that of your old friend, but it's actually the devil's.
That's the frightening thing about the devil. He might just be the fellow sitting next to you now. Which happens to be the title of our first song cycle. It has four numbers in it. I'll see you in a little under 12 minutes.
All right.
Just tell her no, just tell her no, you tell her no, just tell her no. Oh!
Early this morning, you knocked upon my door.
And I said, how long, said I, I believe it's time to go.
Me and the devil was walking side by side.
I'm going to beat my woman until I get satisfied.
She said, you know, Z-Way. That I will talk around.
Now, baby, you know you ain't doing me right now.
She said, you know, Z-Way. That I will talk around.
It must be that only the spirit so deep down in the ground.
Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.
Baby, I don't care where you bear my body when I'm dead and gone
You may bear my body
Ooh, don't bother how it's done
So my old evil spirit
Every ring can get a gray arbor syndrome
I'm an old-time smugglin' man And I know just what to do I'm an old-time smugglin' man
And I know just what to do I sell guns to the area
I sell dynamite
And I built myself a ship
I'm a runner, love the ship
And the slaves I sell
I have just enough money for one more trip
I sell West Indies I smuggle in the gym I sell West Indies
I smuggle in the gym If you want anything legal I sell the world to the Indians
Ask old Timmy to bring it in
I'm an old-time smugglin' man And I know just what to do I'm an old-time smugglin' man
And I know just what to do I sell guns to the area
I sell dynamite to the Jews
He don't tell lies, he just takes what little the Lord bestows you And folds it under his cap
Flap your innocent angel wings, Hosanna sing
It don't mean nothing to Jack When he comes through those swinging doors
Don't go for your gun He's the fastest thing this side of that noose
Your neck'll be sprung to when your last deck is stacked
Say you had an unlucky draw, a drunken paw
It don't mean nothing to Jack guitar solo
Say your prayers if you must do Keep those beads in spin
When he crooks his finger Just give him your watch and wait by the wind Oh, and fold your hands in your lap
He'll take everything his hand can hold Your heart, your soul
But won't take none of your crap Cause it don't mean nothing to Jack
guitar solo Ooh Ooh
viola tracks and guitar, bass. And just in case you like that song as much as I do, I have to tell you it is not commercially available. Too bad about that. I'm the composer's brother, Peter Shickley,
and the program is Shickley Mix on APR. So this guy ends up in hell, and the devil's giving him a tour. In the first cave they visit, they see people being whipped with chains.
Who are those people, says the guy. And the devil says, those are Catholics who ate meat on Friday. In the second cave they see people being boiled in oil. Who's that, says the guy. And the devil says, those are Jews who ate pork.
Then they come to the third cave, which is full of people being whipped with chains while they're being boiled in oil. Oh, wow, says the guy. Who are those? The devil says, those are Episcopalians
who ate the main course with their salad fork. Hell is where you find it. It may be a room. As in Sartre's play, No Exit. It may be an arena for witty repartee,
as in the Don Juan in Hell scene in Shaw's Man and Superman. Or it may be the 1980s in the United States when the devil's mask slipped off. Although, as usual, it was too late.
What?
Okay, okay, okay.
Man, you know, that little alarm up there on the wall is a marvel of electronics. It goes off if I wax irrelevant or if I talk. Too long?
And now I find out that it's also sensitive to talk that is unnecessarily political. What won't they think of next? Anyway, the Hell is Where You Find It song cycle
has three songs in it. The first is in German, and the text goes like this. My ship resounds, Cyprus's whisper.
Hark, the spirit's ghostly cries join in. Soon I will reach the shore, so somber, far, far away. From lovely earth. No sun shines here, nor any stars. No song is heard. Here is no friend.
Receive this, my last tear, O heaven, that this, my weary eye, will shed. Already the pale Denaids I see, and the accursed Tantalus.
The ancient river murmurs of peace, heavy with death and oblivion. To forget, O this, I call a double death. What I, with all my strength attained, to lose it and again to win, when?
When will these tortures end?
Oh, when?
And the third of these three songs is in Italian. The text, first one character sings, Now your time has done. Then the main character sings, From what strange convulsions
do I feel spirits assail me? Whence come these terrible whirlpools of fire? And the chorus sings, That is as nothing compared to your misdeeds. Come, worse is in store for you.
The main character. Who is tearing my soul apart? Who is raging in my vitals? What agony, alas, what frenzy, what hell, what terror? His assistant cries, What a desperate face,
what gestures of doom, what screams, what wailing, how it terrifies me. The flames rise higher. Ah, as he sinks down.
I'll be back in about nine minutes.
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Well, since my baby left me, well, I found a new place to dwell.
Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street, that heartbreak hotel where I'll be. I'll be just as lonely, baby, well, I'm so lonely.
I'll be just as lonely, I could die.
Oh, though it's always crowded, you still can find some room
for broken-hearted lovers to cry their little room. I'll be just as lonely, baby, I'll be just as lonely.
I'll be just as lonely, I could die.
Now the bell-ops tears keep flowing, the desk clerks dressing black. Well, I've been so lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely.
I'll be just as lonely, baby, well, I'm so lonely. I'll be just as lonely, I could die.
Well, if your baby leaves you, you've got a tale to tell. Well, just take a walk down Lonely Street to a heartbreak hotel
where you will be just as lonely, baby, well, you will be lonely. You'll be just as lonely, you could die.
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The Hell is Where You Find It song cycle. It began with the Schubert song Journey to Hades. And that was sung by Stephen Varco
with Graham Johnson accompanying on the piano. Next came, as far as I'm concerned, one of the classic leader of our time, Heartbreak Hotel. Elvis Presley.
The bell hops, tears keep flowing. The desk clerk's dressed in black. They've been so long on Lonely Street, they'll never, never look back. I think that matches a lot of the poems
that Schubert said, if you want my opinion. But you probably don't. Then came Don Giovanni. From the finale, when Don Giovanni is going down to hell, which was not the original plan of Mozart
and his librettist, De Ponte, but people felt that he had to be very obviously punished. So he did go down to hell. Don Giovanni there was sung by Thomas Hampson. Il Commendatore was Robert Hall.
And Leporello was Laszlo Polgar. This is Nicholas Harnoncourt conducting the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam. By the way, both the classical selections
in that last song cycle were in a minor key. Just to be very brief about it. That's a major chord. Those chords sort of define a major key.
And here's minor. I'm very glad this studio comes equipped with an authentic instrument. Anyway, in the Western European music tradition,
minor keys are very much associated with sadness, or at least with death. Requiems, for instance, are usually in minor keys. I would say almost always in minor keys. The famous Funeral March by Chopin. Boom.
Boom. Ba-dum. Boom. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. And the one from Beethoven's Eroica Symphony are both in minor keys. But you know, none of the songs in that first song cycle we did were in the minor.
I guess except that in bluesy music you're usually singing minor melody notes, even if the chords are major. There's a major chord, but Been so long on Lonely Street
Those are minor scale notes. But the Robert Johnson, the second one of that, first suite, is really the only one of those songs that sounds down. The Gospel Hummingbirds
and the Tim Harden numbers were both lively, not to say peppy. And my brother's song is smooth and cool, suave, perhaps. What I'm saying is that by not writing dirgy music,
the composers of those songs emphasize the fact that the devil might be an ordinary-looking person among ordinary people, rather than a mythical, larger-than-life character.
Okay, now, I love throwing out theories on which I've done no corroborative research whatsoever. And here's a good one. Europeans are more pessimistic than Americans. Here's a pair of stories
about the devil setting his sights on a violinist.
Fair enough.
Let's give this brace of yarns the title Taking on the Devil. The first is European. We only have time to hear the very end of the tale, but it's obvious that the devil wins. The second is American. And, hey,
what can I tell you? We can do anything. The devil greets him at the frontier post. The soldier
has had his day. For the devil
holds the violin.
And he begins.
He was looking for a soul to steal.
He was in a bind because he was way behind. But he didn't make a deal. When he came across this young man sewing on a fiddle and playing it hot. And the devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said, boy, let me tell you what.
I guess you didn't know it,
but I'm a fiddle player, too. And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you.
Now, you play pretty good fiddle, boy,
but give the devil his due. I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul because I think I'm better than you.
The boy said, my name's Johnny, and it might be a sin, but I'll take your bet. You're going to regret
because I'm the best there's ever been.
Johnny, you're the best. You're rousing up your bow and play your fiddle hard because hell's broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards. And if you win, you get this shiny fiddle made of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.
The devil opened up his case, and he said,
I'll start this show. And fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow. And he pulled the bow across the strings,
and it made a evil hiss.
Then a band of demons joined in, and it sounded something like this.
When the devil finished, Johnny said, well,
you're pretty good, old son.
But sit down in that chair right there,
and let me show you how it's done. The devil's in the house of the rising sun.
Chicken in the bread pan, picking out dough.
Granted, it's a dog-bite, no child knows.
The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat. And he laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet. Johnny said, devil, just come on back if you ever want to try again. I done told you once, you son of a bitch,
I'm the best there's ever been.
He played fire on the mountain, run, boy, run. Devil's in the house of the rising sun. Chicken in the bread pan, picking out dough.
Granted, we a dog-bite, no child knows.
Taking on the devil. We started with the end of Stravinsky's classic, The Soldier's Tale, ,, and that was the Scottish Chamber Orchestra Lionel Friend conductor.
The chamber orchestra is a little bit of a strange way of listing it, since there are only seven or eight players in that piece. And it doesn't say, as far as I can see, who the violinist is. But the narrator is Christopher Lee.
He does all the parts in that. And it's very effective. And then we heard Charlie Daniels' classic tune, The Devil Went Down to Georgia. And that is Charlie Daniels singing and playing the fiddle.
You know, when you're a classical composer and you're used to these abbreviations in catalogs, OB for oboe, CL. L for clarinet, TPT trumpet. And I enjoyed in this album seeing FID for fiddle.
When they have a violin section, you know, for whole section sound, then they put VLN for violin, but FID for fiddle. That's from the Smithsonian Country Music Collection.
Well, in the long run, it's hard to say that Americans have dealt any better with evil than Europeans have. One thing's for sure. If you've ever lived, you've had to deal with the devil.
In fact, lived, spelled backwards. While you're thinking about that, I'll mention the fact that my name is Peter Shickley, and the program is Shickley Mix on APR.
And now it's tidbit time. The items featured on tidbit time, I hasten to point out, are chosen irregardless of sonic fidelity. I think I'll get no argument on that.
Every week, along about this point in the show, I just like to pull a short selection off the shelf that engages the mind, piques the curiosity, or drops the jaw. I think this one does all three.
Well, since my baby left me, I've
found a new place to dwell.
It's down at the end of Lonely Street at Heartbreak Hotel. Heartbreak, it's so lonely, baby, because I'm so lonely.
Heartbreak, it's so lonely, I could die.
Heartbreak Hotel.
used to be a dream.
Let's hold on to that old dream and stop by ourselves.
Koi ni abureta wakamono tachi de Itsu demo konderu Heartbreak Hotel
Soredemo heya wa toreru to mo sa Hitori de nakunda
Stick with me now. I warned you about the sound quality here. Somebody faxed me this cassette.
Sabishii machi ja dare demo sabishii Urabureta sabishii Heartbreak Hotel
Hotel no hito Kuroi sebiro de
Namida utabeteru Moshimo anata ga Wakareta hito no
Omoide ni naku toki wa
Heartbreak Hotel Kusumi to nayami ni
Iki oto shinoto Anata no kote sa
Heartbreak Hotel Sung in Japanese and very well too. I love it. I'm afraid I can't tell you who's doing it. Somebody, and I can't even remember who, gave it to me on a cassette.
I was kidding about the faxing. If anybody knows who it is, I'll be glad to give them proper credit. Just, uh...
Hello?
Yes. Now, I find that hard to believe. Yeah, I know he has admired certain kinds of American music, and movies, but I've never heard that Kurosawa was a singer.
Yeah, well, I don't believe it. You send me the jacket and... Huh. Hung up. Figures. I think the field is still wide open on this one, folks. And I'm serious. If you know who that was, I'd love to find out.
I suppose it sounds pretty funny to a Russian to hear us singing, Hi-ho, nobody home Meat nor drink nor money Have I none? But what do I know? I'm an American. And proud of it. So...
Well, here's some good old American optimism. Here's another couple of devil stories. We'll call this pair The Devil Meets His Match.
You must answer me questions nine Sing ninety-nine and ninety
To see if you're God's or one of mine And you are the weaver's bonnie
What is whiter than the milk
Sing ninety-nine and ninety
And what is softer than the silk And you are the weaver's bonnie
Snow is whiter than the milk
Sing ninety-nine and ninety And down is softer than the silk
And I am the weaver's bonnie
What is higher than a tree?
Sing ninety-nine and ninety
And what is deeper than the sea? And you are the weaver's bonnie
Heaven is higher than a tree
Sing ninety-nine and ninety
and hell is deeper than the sea and i am the weaver's bunny what is louder than a horn
sing 99 and 90 and what is sharper than a thorn and you are the weaver's bunny
thunders louder than a horn sing 99 and 90 and death is sharper than a thorn
and i am the weaver's bunny what's more innocent than a lamb sing 99 and 90
and what is meaner than womankind and you are the weaver's bunny
a babe's more innocent than a lamb sing 99 and 90 she devil is meaner than womankind
and i am the weaver's bunny you have answered
my questions nine sing 99 and 90 you are god's own and none of mine and you are the weaver's
bunny there was an old man he lived near hell he had a little farm and a funny good girl sang
hi oh rattling day oh the devil came to him one day at his plow there's one in your family i have to have now sing hi oh rattling day
oh it's neither your son or your daughter i crave
it's your old scolding wife and it's her i must have sing hi oh rattling day
so we hobbist her up all on his back
and like a bull peddler went packing his pack sing hi oh rattling day
the high gates of hell.
Sing right back the coals and we'll roast her real well. Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day.
Two little devils came rattling their chains.
She hauled back her cudgel and knocked out their brains.
Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day.
Two more little devils
peeped over the door.
She hauled back her cudgel, killed ninety-nine more.
Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day. Two more little devils peeped over the wall.
Said, take her back, Daddy,
or she'll kill us all.
Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day. So he hobbist her up all on his back. And like a bull peddler went pecking her back. Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day.
Here's your old golden wife and it's her I won't have.
She ain't fit for heaven.
She ain't stay in hell.
Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day.
Oh,
the women, they are so much better than men. When they go to hell, they get sent back again. Sing hi, oh, rattle-ding-day.
We began The Devil Meets His Match, a pair of tales there with the devil's nine questions sung by Burl Ives. And I guess it's only fair to say
that this kind of riddling ballad is common in European folklore. And I think that the devil often loses in those, too. It's not only an American thing. And then we heard Gene Ritchie
singing The Little Devils on an early Elektra 10-inch LP. Now, when I say early, it says here EKLP II. I wonder if anybody knows
what EKLP I was. Still one of my favorite albums. Gene Ritchie, many years ago. Well, you know, it's true.
I am an American, but... Those Europeans have had a lot of experience, you know? They've been... Well, they've just been doing it, whatever we've all been doing for years. Maybe they're right.
Maybe the devil does win more often than he loses. Maybe they're right. So let's go out with Berlioz. Damnation of Faust.
The devil definitely wins in this one. We're going to hear the end, not the very end, but the part where the chorus of demons, and damned, sings as the Prince of Darkness,
Mephistopheles, takes Faust down to hell. The chorus sings, Something like that. It doesn't make any sense, and I'll tell you why.
The Prince of Darkness sings, Mephisto, are you master and lord over this proud soul forever and ever? Mephistopheles, I am master forever and ever. Prince of Darkness, then Faust, freely signed,
the fatal deed which consigned him to the flames. Mephistopheles, he freely signed. Chorus, hos, hos. There's a poet named, no, it couldn't be that. The demons bear Mephistopheles in triumph.
And then the chorus sings, Trotuin, Marceril, Furtrud, Dix, and what is this? What it is, according to these notes, it says, while the demons bear Mephistopheles
away in triumph, singing a chorus in the language of hell invented by Swedenborg in the 18th century, so there you have it. Swedenborg apparently invented this language,
and it's a perfectly appropriate language to go to hell with.
The next to last section of Berlioz's Damnation of Faust, Jean-Philippe Laffont singing Mephistopheles and the Princes of Darkness,
and the chorus where the Englishman, the Edinburgh Festival Chorus, John Elliot Gardner conducting the Orchestre de l'Opéra de Lyon.
Proof of the devil's power is the fact that actors often find it more fun to be the villain than the hero. So don't underestimate him. Beauty is the best revenge.
And that's Shickly Mix for this week. Our program is made possible with funds provided by the American Public Radio Program Fund, whose contributors include the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation,
by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and also by this radio station. We'll tell you in a moment how you can get an official playlist of all the music on today's program with record numbers and everything.
Just refer to the program number. This is program 39. And this is Peter Shickly saying goodbye and reminding you that it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that certain je ne sais quoi. You're looking good.
See you next week.
If you'd like a copy of that playlist I mentioned,
send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to Shickly Mix. That's S-C-H-I-C-K-E-L-E, Shickly Mix. Care of American Public Radio,
100 North 6th Street, Suite 900A, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 55403.