Preparations for our move continue. As I go through cabinets and drawers deciding what to take and what to jettison, I stumble upon across occasional little gems. I broke out into a smile when I found nearly hundred year old sheet music for The Moon Shines on the Moonshine.
Published in 1920, the song was already a popular tune as sung by Vaudeville comedian Bert Williams — an African-American who, in one of the bizzare twists of minstrelsy, regularly performed in blackface. He wasn’t the only one. But he was the only one WC Fields is said to have called “the funniest man I ever saw.”
Lyrics by Francis de Witt — just slightly different from the recording — follow.
The Moon Shines on the Moonshine
The mahogany is dusty, All the pipes are very rusty, And the good, old-fashioned musty Doesn't musty anymore.
All the stuff's got bum and bummer, from the middle of the Summer. Now the bar is on the hummer, and "For Rent" is on the door.
How sad and still tonight, by the old distillery, And how the cob-webs cob, in the old machinery!
But in the mountain tops, far from the eyes of cops, Oh how the moon shines on the moonshine, so merrily! How sad and merrily!
Goodness me, how misery doubles, Ain't one thing to use for bubbles, For to drive away your troubles, Now the tide has gone and went.
Days and nights are getting bleaker, shivering for an old-time sneaker, Even water's getting weaker, 'Bout one tenth of one per cent.
How sad and still tonight, by the old distillery, And how the mourners mourn, Bt the Lager Brewery!
So, mister, if you please, Don't let nobody sneeze, Up where the moon shines On the moonshine, so still-ily How sad and still-ily!
What do want from the liquor store?
Something sour or something sweet?
I'll buy all that your belly can hold
You can be sure you won't suffer no more.
~ Ted Hawkins
The radio show This American Life recently aired an episode called "Know When to Fold 'Em" about understanding when bad situations require just walking away and cutting losses. In a segment on Minnesota "wet houses" — hospice-like homes where chronic alcoholics are allowed to drink — Marc Sanchez visited St. Anthony House, such a home in St. Paul.
The story is touching, sad, a searing reminder that — for some people — alcohol is the very demon that prohibitionists have always claimed it is.
At its conclusion, Ted Hawkins' song Sorry You're Sick plays. I'd never heard it before or of Hawkins, the Mississippi native who died in California before I ever set foot here. In the context of the radio show, Sorry You're Sick was almost gut-wrenching in its simplicity and purity.
Goes well with:
"Know When to Fold 'Em," the episode from This American Life that brought Ted Hawkins to my attention and that includes Sanchez's story on St. Anthony House.
The lyrics to Sorry You're Sick:
Good morning, my darling, I'm telling you this
to let you know that I'm sorry you're sick
Though tears of sorrow won't do you no good,
I'd be your doctor if only I could.
What do want from the liquor store?
Something sour or something sweet?
I'll buy all that your belly can hold.
You can be sure you won't suffer no more.
I'd swim the ocean or the deepest canal
to get to you darling just to make you well.
There's no place on Earth that I wouldn't hasten to go
to cool the fever; this I want you to know.
What do want from the liquor store?
Something sour or something sweet?
I'll buy all that your belly can hold.
You can be sure you won't suffer no more.
If only the doctor would hurry and show
there's quite a few places I know we could go.
I was ok but these words from you
stating you're sick made me sick, too.
What do want from the liquor store?
Something sour or something sweet?
I'll buy all that your belly can hold.
You can be sure you won't suffer no more.
Promise me darling that you won't die;
I'll get all the medicine that money can buy.
Stick with me baby, hold on and fight
take a good rest I won't prolong the flight
What do want from the liquor store?
Something sour or something sweet?
I'll buy all that your belly can hold.
You can be sure you won't suffer no more.
Who knew? Listening to certain types of music might affect how you regard the taste of what you’re drinking. Wait, did I say “who knew?” I think I meant “duh.”
Now, I’m no wine aficionado. Oh, I like the stuff and have plenty of bottles around the house (heavy on Champagne, malbec from Argentina, and old vine California zinfandels), but those who know me know what’re really bending the shelves are bottles of spirits — whiskeys, rums, brandies, gins, and liqueurs from around the world.
So I was tickled to see a BBC News article about a study from Heriot Watt University that suggests that playing certain types of music for university students affects their appreciation of certain wines.
The marketing implications are interesting. Professor Adrian North said "Wine manufacturers could recommend that while drinking a certain wine, you should listen to a certain sort of music." Montes Wines (known in part for its eccentric playing of monastic chants to maturing wine) even provided music recommendations for the article:
Cabernet Sauvignon: All Along The Watchtower (Jimi Hendrix), Honky Tonk Woman (Rolling Stones), Live And Let Die (Paul McCartney and Wings), Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who)
Chardonnay: Atomic (Blondie), Rock DJ (Robbie Williams), What's Love Got To Do With It (Tina Turner), Spinning Around (Kylie Minogue)
Syrah: Nessun Dorma (Puccini), Orinoco Flow (Enya), Chariots Of Fire (Vangelis), Canon (Johann Pachelbel)
Merlot: Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay (Otis Redding), Easy (Lionel Ritchie), Over The Rainbow (Eva Cassidy), Heartbeats (Jose Gonzalez)
Me? I’ve always found pairing music and drink to “enhance” appreciation is a bit of a no-brainer. Some music just fits with certain drinks and elevates the entire experience of drinking them (ethnopharmacologists, when considering the expectations and surroundings of consumers, might refer to this as the "set and setting"). With tongue planted firmly in cheek, I'd like you to consider some options:
For that sidecar after work when your dogs are barkin' and you want to be left alone? Billie Holiday’s slow and sultry Stormy Weather or Fischerspooner’s frenetic Emerge?
An old fashioned? This one's a little harder, but take your pick: a montage of Lou Reed’s Perfect Day, the Gypsy King’s Spanish version of Hotel California(from the Big Lebowski’s must-have soundtrack), or Lil John's Get Low?
What about straight bourbon? Tom Waits’ Chocolate Jesus is a nice complement, but so is the Editor’s cover of the Talking Heads’ Road to Nowhere. Take your pick of those and compare them to the Hambone Kneeslap. It's not which one makes you want to drink more, but which one allows you to enjoy your drink more.
Any party host can tell you that some music goes and some doesn’t. So, turn on some Cole Porter, stir up some martinis, and let the witty repartee flow. Or maybe Magnetic Fields. Hell, turn up the drum n bass, house, or ambient tunes if that’s your thing. Crack open a beer and turn up the Skynyrd. Spare me the showtunes, though: Ethel Merman I don’t need in my ear when I’m watching the sun set with a dose of rye in one hand and a Brazilian hottie cigar in the other…
And, because it's a fun video that makes any drink taste just fine: Morcheeba’s Rome Wasn’t Built in a Day:
