{"id":1992,"date":"2017-05-26T08:25:49","date_gmt":"2017-05-26T13:25:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/?p=1992"},"modified":"2017-06-20T08:12:14","modified_gmt":"2017-06-20T13:12:14","slug":"1992-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/1992-2\/","title":{"rendered":"A Beloved Troubadour Dies"},"content":{"rendered":"<p class=\"wpf_wrapper\"><a class=\"print_link\" href=\"\" target=\"_blank\">Print this entry<\/a><\/p><!-- .wpf_wrapper --><p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>I was born here and I&#8217;ll die here against my will<br \/>\nI know it looks like I&#8217;m moving but I&#8217;m standing still<br \/>\nEvery nerve in my body is so vacant and numb<br \/>\nI can&#8217;t even remember what it was I came here to get away from<br \/>\nDon&#8217;t even hear the murmur of a prayer<br \/>\nIt&#8217;s not dark yet, but it&#8217;s getting there<br \/>\n\u2014 \u201cNot Dark Yet,\u201d Sung by Jimmy LaFave, Written by Bob Dylan<a href=\"http:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/1992-2\/jimmy-lafave\/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-1993\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-1993\" src=\"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave-200x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"200\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave-200x300.jpg 200w, https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave-600x900.jpg 600w, https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave-768x1152.jpg 768w, https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave-683x1024.jpg 683w, https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave-680x1020.jpg 680w, https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/Jimmy-LaFave.jpg 1000w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px\" \/><\/a><\/em><!--more--><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">|\u2014\u2014\u2014|<\/p>\n<p>Jimmy LaFave, a beloved singer-songwriter with an ethereal voice and a faithful following, died Sunday of cancer, just three days after a sold-out tribute concert at Austin\u2019s Paramount Theatre. LaFave curated the concert, picking the performers and songs. Then, in a wheel chair and on an oxygen machine, he performed \u201cGoodnight Irene\u201d as the finale. It is doubtful there was a dry eye in the house.<\/p>\n<p>As I write this, I\u2019m listening to \u201cCimarron Manifesto,\u201d arguably LaFave\u2019s finest album and the first one I bought 10 years ago. As with nearly all his 15 albums, he recorded a Bob Dylan tune, \u201cNot Dark Yet.\u201d He was a grand interpreter of Dylan\u2019s songs; my favorite is LaFave\u2019s version of \u201cA Simple Twist of Fate.\u201d It is haunting.<\/p>\n<p>LaFave, who died two months short of his 62nd birthday, was originally from Stillwater, Okla., and was known as the founder of Red-Dirt music \u2014 named for the soil of his native state and its mixture of a number of genres \u2014 blues, rock, country, folk, and that amorphous category, Americana. LaFave was a devoted fan of Woody Guthrie and performed often at the folk festival named after the famed songwriter and author of \u201cThis Land is Your Land.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>LaFave only recently revealed he had terminal cancer, a form of sarcoma in his lungs. For months, LaFave continued to perform as the cancer devastated his body \u2014 but not his will to perform. As another writer put it after watching him play at the Woody Guthrie festival in early May, \u201cHe looks cancer straight in the eye, then sings beyond it. He has taken us to the most vulnerable place in his heart and touched the deepest truth.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He\u00a0was beloved in the Austin music community, where he lived for more than three decades. He soon became one of the city\u2019s best-known musicians, playing countless concerts at modest venues, such as Threadgills and Shady Grove. His singing style was strikingly unique, whether he was knocking out a cover of a Joe South tune or one of his own sparely written ballads. I read somewhere that LaFave never used a set list at a concert. He simply gauged the mood of the crowd and let his intuition take over. His repertoire was immense, and the music came from somewhere deep within him.<\/p>\n<p>I only saw him perform live once, with my Beautiful Mystery Companion at the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar in Austin seven or eight years ago. His performance was magical, transfixing, his love of music and intensity washing over the crowd. I wish I had seen him perform more than once \u2014 several near-misses over the years \u2014 but am grateful for that single opportunity.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\">Ten years ago, I popped \u201cCimarron Manifesto\u201d into my truck\u2019s CD player for the first time. The third song came on: \u201cThis Land,\u201d written by LaFave and clearly in the Woody Guthrie tradition. The song begins:<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em><br \/>\nLife is hard<br \/>\nTimes are tough<br \/>\nAnd the ones who have too much<br \/>\nSeem to never get enough<br \/>\nTraveling through this land<br \/>\nChildren dying<br \/>\nOn some foreign soil<br \/>\nFor God&#8217;s sake won\u2019t you tell me<br \/>\nWhat is all this fighting for<br \/>\nTraveling through this land<br \/>\nIt\u2019s the only thing I know<br \/>\nTo say my friends<br \/>\nI simply want my country back again<\/em><\/p>\n<p>That morning, I had to pull over as tears filled my eyes, and I couldn\u2019t safely see to drive.<br \/>\nThank you, Jimmy.<\/p>\n<p class=\"wpf_wrapper\"><a class=\"print_link\" href=\"\" target=\"_blank\">Print this entry<\/a><\/p><!-- .wpf_wrapper -->","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Print this entryI was born here and I&#8217;ll die here against my will I know it looks like I&#8217;m moving but I&#8217;m standing still Every nerve in my body is [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[53,38],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1992","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-53","category-columns"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1992","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1992"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1992\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2008,"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1992\/revisions\/2008"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1992"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1992"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garyborders.com\/pages\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1992"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}