folkstuff

—— folk family and jam

St Jam

A very popular element in our  Jams.  On two different occasions in 1978 - one in March one in October.  And a kind of selfie jam - me playing the guitar twice, and whistling on top of that.  I had two tape recorders - so one was playing what I'd recorded previously, while I was playing the next layer on the guitar.  Which does explain the fuzzy quality of the recording.

This was one of the staple ingredients in a jam session with Steve and me. The song I have recorded most often.
Actually of course it's not a blues at all.  Louis Armstrong recorded it (1928), called it a blues, but that doesn't mean it is.  8 bars.  A minor.  But it's good. 
It's in the same family (story wise) as all the other stories of young people dying of some unmentionable disease.  The Trooper Cut Down in his Prime.  The Streets of Laredo.   
The first known version (the unfortunate rake) is about someone dying of some venereal disease - the clap - that he's caught from the whores he hangs out with.  (And let that be a warning).  The cause of death in subsequent versions, being unmentionable, varies - shot in the breast; gambling and drinking; who dies varies - a sailor, a soldier, a cowboy, a cowboy's girl-friend etc. 
The lyrics here don't really make much sense.  Never find a man as good-looking as me? 
But other versions don't seem to be much better, so.