I grew up in two distinct phases in two distinct places. The first nine innocent years in Austin and then the passage into experience as a teenager in Baton Rouge.
I was born in Austin and lived in a little big house along a creek on a tiny cul-de-sac off of Possum Trot, which was a through street along the creek, mostly, from Lake Austin Boulevard up to Enfield. Our mom drove down Enfield to get to church, to the Checkerfront food store at 12th and Lamar, to get to West Enfield Park where the swimming pool was. The cars were big then, we had a Studebaker coupe, no airconditioning, no seatbelts in those days, kids sitting every which way, kids under kids, sideways kids, busy, busy. We'd pile into the car and our mom would say "Somebody count the kids!" and all manner of answers would chirp back until a reasonable voice, probably my favorite sister, would say "Six!", which was the correct answer.
Where did the music come from?
In Austin on Inwood Place music came from a few different places -
In the house my mom and Zula both sang to us kids. Zula came to the house every day to care for the six kids. My mom worked as a secretary at All Saints Episcopal Church, up there on the high side of the university. Both women had very soft, sure voices. We heard the children's songs and the lullabys and sometimes their own hymn or popular song from their lives. Zula would hum a lot. I learned calmness from her.
In the church on Sunday the songs fell in line punctuating the predictable flow of the service. There was always a choir in the front, I think it was mostly the older kids. I'll have to ask my sister. The sign to the right of Reverend Scott Field Bailey listed the page numbers of the hymns, each in turn. I'm sure I sang along, a middle child of six kids, all starched into respectable clothing, eyes in the book soon as you could read, learning to read, the younger ones mouthing along. It was different in the 50s - lots and lots of children and the scattering of the parents in suits and ties and the Sunday dresses. The women all wore hats. My sister wore a little white cotton circle clipped into her straight blonde hair. I recall the range of voices in the congregation - the confident men like rich soil with the higher voices of the women and kids butterflying above. There was an organist who was the choir director. Mrs. Molesworth or some such. I'll have to ask my sister. She sang in the choir. She was good at talking to grownups, being three years and a bit older than me.
On the TV we delighted in the cartoons on Saturday mornings. It was still in black and white on our TV. I got all my classical music from Carl Stalling and the other cartoon composers. Action! Suspense! Spooky! Peaceful Mountain Stream! Running Horses! Popeye and Donald Duck , Goofy, Bugs Bunny, Foghorn Leghorn, Betty Boop all had thrilling music. We also watched Industry on Parade and The World at War, each with stirring soundtracks.
On the radio we would hear the occasional song when we would go get burgers at 2Js.I don't recall hearing the radio or records at home very much. My parents had stacks of classical and popular 78s but I don't remember actually listening to them. The big kids might have had their own music at that time but I don't remember it. But I was aware of Elvis and Frank Sinatra a bit through the TV. So there was little popular music in the house, though I learned only
many years later both my parents had nice voices and knew all the songs
and hymns from their youth. They sang at church, my dad on the loud side, my mom with restraint. There was a little Steinway piano that only
my sister played. She took a bus to take lessons once a week. I payed
no attention to her practice. We loved to lie on the floor with one of her piano books full of traditional folk songs, hymns, war songs, Christmas carols. We looked at the pictures, one for each song - sailors, knights and ladies, cowboys,
At school I'm sure we had some amount of music but I don't recall any outside of the regular church service each morning.
Baton Rouge when I was nine.
One long year in the Garden District just across the lakes from the university. I only remember music from the TV, color by this time. The theme from from Bonanza moved me deeply. It came on right after Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color which had those studio orchestras playing cartoon music still in the rich layered classical style. The cheap cartoons started coming out then with cheap gimmicky music, all beeps and bops, very simple, no layers, no character. The scary shows came on later - Night Gallery, The Twilight Zone. The music scared me to death and I was out of the room the minute they came on. But I could still hear the music, even upstairs. Precise intent. Precise effect.
Then the suburbs. My new neighbor had an older sister and they had popular albums - Beach Boys, Beatles, Jan and Dean. We listened and Al sang along and I tried but it didn't work. I couldn't sing that high or couldn't be in the place to allow myself to try. I stayed quiet. At school I was moved by some of the group singing songs, the military and patriotic songs had such energy. The Marines! The Air Force! Safe in the crowd of fifth graders I sang as loud as I could. The school had an after hours music class. I had braces on my teeth. I was told to learn clarinet. My mom bought one at Sears. I did not spend enough time with it to learn to play well but I did learn to read music.
Then the radio entered my life. My older brothers would play the radio while they worked on cars in the garage. The whole backyard filled with The Loving Spoonful, Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, Beach Boys, The Supremes. Mixed with a lot of forgettable but catchy novelty songs. But then"Little" Stevie Wonder sang I Was Made to Love Her and I was astonished to feel such power and joy coming out of a person. I got my own little transistor radio and listened to the Top 40 AM stations. Then I found WXOK, the black music station. Little Richard, Bobby Blue Bland, James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight. A few of them like Stevie were played on the white station but only a few.
1968.
I was a 60s kid surrounded by Top 40 sanitized songs, black and white - everything cleaned up and tucked into simple packages for AM radio. Music for children. Great talent, exciting performances. Mostly music for children. Then Easy Rider came out and the theme song was The Weight. It changed everything. I learned that Robbie Robertson played the guitar and wrote (almost) all the songs. Garth Hudson played all keyboards, organs, clavinet, accordian, saxophone, giving swirling words of texture and tone behind the guitar, piano, drum, bass format. And three of them sang, not like the angels at church but like the wayward angels late at night after the medicine show had come to town. This was much more free and aching ragged heart. I had found a home. It was for grownups.
Al took up the guitar and I borrowed one from somebody and learned some chords and we played Peter, Paul and Mary, Dylan, old folk songs, Beatles.
Starr. N.O. Pop Festival. Dr. John. Band. High school band. Marching band
Anything and everything by The Band up through The Last Waltz. Stunning range of songs sung and played by a ragtag group of vocal personalities.
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