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Roving Women: Nat Johnson plays Connie Converse (live at the Lexington with Cornerstone Brass)

by Nat Johnson

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Sven B. Schreiber (sbs)
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Sven B. Schreiber (sbs) Once more I've got to admit my lack of knowledge... this time for not knowing Connie Converse. Yes, indeed. As it turns out, she was a very gifted singer-songwriter, long before this term became a genre name - but obviously never felt at home in the world she was born in. Where she's now, nobody knows, and if she's still alive, her age is 94 years now. Thanks to Nat Johnson we get access to a fine selection of Connie Converse's works, besides three wonderful songs of her own, perfectly arranged for folk rock band and brass. Favorite track: Condor (live at the Lexington).
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People say a roving woman Is likely not to be better than she ought to be so When I stray away from where I've got to be Someone always takes me home (Hannah:) A lady never should habituate saloons But that is where I find myself on many afternoons And just as I begin to blow away the foam Someone tips his hat to me and takes me home People say a roving woman Is likely not to be better than she ought to be so When I stray away from where I've got to be Someone always takes me home (Katherine:) Now poker is a game a lady shouldn't play And every floating poker game just seems to float my way But long before I've lost a thing besides my comb Someone tips his hand to me and takes me home Don't know why they always do it Can't be vanity, must be sheer humanity When some kind soul remarks with great urbanity Lady let me take you home Of course there has to be some little aftermath To make the pleasant ending for the straight and narrow path And as I go to sleep I cannot help but think How glad I am that I was saved from cards and drink People say a roving woman Is likely not to be better than she ought to be so When I stray there positively has to be Someone there to take me home
3.
Ever since we met, the world's been upside down And if you don't stop troubling me you'll drive me out of town But if you go away As trouble ought to do Where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to? My bed is made of stone, a star has burnt my eye I'm going down to the willow tree and teach her how to cry But if you go away As trouble ought to do Where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to? They bid me wear my hat, put on a nice new gown I tossed my bonnet over the roof and I guess it won't come down But if you go away As trouble ought to do Where will I find another soul to tell my trouble to?
4.
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Shall we dine out, my dear? And dance the night away? Don't say you're tired, you know you haven't worked all day We've paid the rent finally and we're free to be free Come now and waltz the Empty Pocket Waltz with me Let's close our doors and make believe we're all alone Grandma can't hear and baby's sleeping like a stone We've paid the doctor his fee and we're free to be free Come now and waltz the Empty Pocket Waltz with me Why so unhappy? Don't be that way Maybe they'll make me queen for a day You'll find a job, probably, and be free to be free To waltz again this Empty Pocket Waltz with me
6.
In between two tall mountains, there's a place they call Lonesome Don't see why they call it Lonesome - I'm never lonesome when I go there See that bird sitting on my windowsill, well he's saying whip-poor-will all the night through See that brook running by my kitchen door, well it couldn't talk no more if it was you Up that tree there's sort of a squirrel thing. Sounds just like we did when we were quarrelling In the yard I keep a pig or two - they drop in for dinner like you used to do I don't stand in the need of company with everything I see talkin' like you Up that tree there's sort of a squirrel thing. Sounds just like we did when we were quarrelling You may think you left me all alone, but I can hear you talk without a telephone I don't stand in the need of company with everything I see talkin' like you See that bird sitting on my windowsill, well he's saying whip-poor-will all the night through Just whip-poor-will all the night through In between two tall mountains, there's a place they call Lonesome Don't see why they call it Lonesome - I'm never lonesome now I live there
7.
There is a vine growing on my garden wall And it is brown and withered in the Fall And in the Spring its leaves are green and blossoms all aflame But Spring or Fall, still I love you just the same There is a gate halfway down my garden wall And in the night I lock it bolts and all And in the day it's open wide to all who would come through But day or night it is never locked for you There is a tree growing by my garden gate And year by year it seems to stand and wait And here am I beneath the tree for I am waiting too And oh, my love, I will always wait for you
8.
How I'd like to drink with you in your kitchen late at night How we'd talk Don't be lonely in the dark I see you in that chair Come to life, come to England Well the squirrel leaps on the sycamore bones And in my nose is the gentle sting of winter And I picture you on a walk in the hills Were your fingers red when you walked in England? Well the man in the sky might be married now The wind may have carried your bonnet down But now you're unburied we won't forget That you lived alone, you lived alone How I'd like to drink with you in your kitchen late at night How we'd talk Don't be lonely in the dark
9.
(Nat:) Down this road, on a Monday morning Came a-riding three strangers Down this road, on a Monday morning Came a-riding three strangers There was one wearing green and one a peacock feather And one wearing overshoes against the wintry weather And they gave me six white horses for to carry my load And they beckoned me to follow and they took me... (Hannah:) Almost any day when I'm weary Almost any day when I'm blue Almost any day when I'm weary Almost any day when I'm blue I want to take a train and ride it Or dig a hole and crawl inside it Almost any day when I'm weary Almost any day when I'm blue It's surprising realising what a little bit of dreaming can do
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So, the fire dies and the rest of the world sees by candlelight You'll be gone tonight, all the colours of you (So, the fire dies and the rest of the world sees by candlelight) Where's the spray? There's none - just the prow of the boat pushing on through the foam (Going where?) Where this current pulls, getting ready to start to retrain as river, come back as condor Keep that love in your sights; it's the rolling of thunder, mysterious lights And row until it's time to retrain as river Retrain as river, come back as condor
13.
Look so long on the lake, get your eyes full And the beasts and the birds And the light on the branch and the bramble When all this is gone The picture and the song still remain Hold your hand out to the cold air You can feel it but it's not there The good thoughts in my head are blown down and clouded like the sun Beasts and birds and branch and bramble When all this is gone The picture and the song still remain

about

Recorded live at the Lexington, London on 25 October 2015, this was the third and final performance of "Roving Women: Nat Johnson plays Connie Converse". The set featured new arrangements of songs written by Connie Converse in 1950s New York. For full details of the project and to hear more about Connie and the documentary that was shown on the night, go to www.natjohnson.co.uk/rovingwomen/

NB studio versions of three of these songs are available on the Lonesome Lake EP here: natjohnson.bandcamp.com/album/lonesome-lake-ep. A studio version of 'Roving Woman' is over here: natjohnson.bandcamp.com/track/roving-woman-connie-converse-cover. 'All This' first appeared on Johnson's album Roman Radio. You can hear Connie Converse's original recordings here: connieconverse.bandcamp.com/album/how-sad-how-lovely

Photo by Katia from Women Produce Music @WPM_org

With thanks to: Arts Council England, Andrea Kannes, Ed Cartledge, Daniel Gurney, Delia Sparrow, Sensoria Festival & many more

credits

released October 30, 2015

All songs written by Connie Converse except Lonely in the Dark, Condor & All This, by Nat Johnson.

Arrangements by Nat Johnson and her band, and Damian Wileman

Nat Johnson: vocals and guitar
Oliver Allchin: lapsteel, banjo, musical saw
Hannah Cartledge: vocals, flute, horn
Katherine Jackson: vocals, violin, ukelele
Chris Loftus: bass
Neil Piper: drums
Cornerstone Brass led by Damian Wileman: Chris Allchin, Adrian Wileman, Neil Beecham, Susan Rose, Richard Hanson, Mick Sidebottom

Recorded by Ed Cartledge, Sort Of Films

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Nat Johnson Sheffield, UK

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