Favorite (song)writers

The musical turn to the Smith and Jones thread got me thinking.

Here's an abbreviated list of my favorites:

Phil Lynott

Down from the glen came the marching men
With their shields and their swords
To fight the fight they believed to be right
Overthrow the overlords

To the town where there was plenty
They brought plunder, swords and flame
When they left the town was empty
Children would never play again

From their graves I heard the fallen
Above the battle cry
By that bridge near the border
There were many more to die

Then onward over the mountain
And outward towards the sea
They had come to claim the Emerald
Without it they could not leave


Jason Isbell


Stop me if you've heard this one before:
A man walks into a bar and leaves before his ashes hit the floor.
Stop me if I ever get that far.
The sun's a desperate star that burns like every single one before.

And I could find another dream,
one that keeps me warm and clean
but I ain't dreamin' anymore, I'm waking up.
So I'll take two of what you're having and I'll take everything you got
to kill this goddamn lonely, goddamn lonely love.


Warren Zevon

Roland was a warrior from the Land of the Midnight Sun
With a Thompson gun for hire, fighting to be done
The deal was made in Denmark on a dark and stormy day
So he set out for Biafra to join the bloody fray

Through sixty-six and seven they fought the Congo war
Fingers on their triggers, knee-deep in gore
For days and nights they battled the Bantu to their knees
They killed to earn their living and to help out the Congolese


Mike Cooley


You can lie to your Mama, you can lie to your race
but you cant lie to nobody with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that youre so afraid of
is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer
to when the pin hits the shell.

Patterson Hood

Mary Alice had a baby and he looked just like I did
We got married on a Monday and I been working ever since
Every week down at the Ford Plant but now they say they're shutting down
Goddamned Reagan in the White House and no one there gives a damn

Double Digit unemployment, TVA be shutting soon
While over there in Huntsville, They puttin' people on the moon

So I took to runnin' numbers for this man I used to know
And I sell a few narcotics and I sell a little blow
I ain't getting rich now but I'm gettin' more than by
It's really tough to make a living but a man just got to try

If I died in Colbert County, Would it make the evening news?
They too busy blowin' rockets, Puttin' people on the moon


Jeff Tweedy

You'll wake
With a start from a dream
And know that I am gone
You'll feel it in your heart
But not for very long
You'll rise each day as planed
Your will is your command
And stand each Sunday
A hymnal steady in your hand
You'll sing to yourself
The rising-falling melody
That you could never read
Without the choirs' lead
Still alone, and lost in deep
And your soul will not be free


Jack White

Billy broke in and saw the blood on the floor, and
He turned around and put the lock on the door
He looked dead into the boyfriend's eye
His mother was a ghost, too upset to cry, then
He took a step toward the man on the ground
From his mouth trickled out a little audible sound
He heard the boyfriend shout, "Get out!"
And Billy said, "Not till I know what this is all about"
"Well, this preacher here was attacking your mama"
But Billy knew just who was starting the drama
So Billy took dead aim at his face
And smashed the bottle on the man who left his dad in disgrace, and
The white milk dripped down with the blood, and the
Boyfriend fell down dead for good
Right next to the preacher who was gasping for air
And Billy shouted, "Daddy, why'd you have to come back here?"
His mama reached behind the sugar and honey, and
Pulled out an envelope filled with money
"Your daddy gave us this," she collapsed in tears
"He's been paying all the bills for years"
"Mama, let's put this body underneath the trees
and put Daddy in the truck and head to Tennessee"
Just then, his little brother came in
Holding the milk man's hat and a bottle of gin

 

Big fan of Warren Zevon. Hate that Werewolves of London is is most famous song.

I'd probably have to go with Dylan.

Big fan of Shane MacGowan, Neil Young, Lyle Lovett, Townes Van Zandt.

Lennon & McCartney, obviously.

Gosh, so many more.

 

Who is Shane McGowan?

I like Young and Dylan, but if this thread goes anywhere, they'll be all over it, so I left them for others. They're an interesting combo because Young can be too simplistic, IMO, while the Dylan stuff I don't like sounds to me like he's trying to hard to make the pieces fit.

 

Shane McGowan is/was the lead singer of the Irish rock band, the Pogues. He's there main song writer, though almost everyone in the band has also written a couple of songs.

He's a fucking drunk. He's terrible in concert -- when he shows up. But, he writes beautiful songs.

He's also done stuff with his own band, the Popes, and on his own.

 

I'm in.

Joe Pernice

She won't mind if the place we stand is marked by ash.
She believes what doesn't kill her only takes more time to kill her.
Then she smiles as she paints her lips and does her lashes.
Stunning as a taxidermy victim in a silver cage.

I'm arrested by an aria brought from the country.
Stuck in dumb amazement like a dog who's told to levitate.
This smash number-one goes to her lover in the belfry,
Singing like a bird in flames and headed for the window pane.

In the coming years, let's try and milk a fortune off them.
I think we're qualified by now.

Alouette, gentille alouette.
Head to toe so thoroughly until we're both dismembered.
Alouette, gentille alouette.
Naive, yes, but none the worse, spinning glue back into horses.
I'll never leave the place where you are.


Paul Kelly

Ever since you said goodbye
I've had a reputation
I'm not drinking on the sly
I'm the star attraction
Every morning I wake up
Fill my cup and listen bitterly
To stories of me

They say a man is going 'round
He looks a lot like me
They say that man is going down
It's looking pretty likely
Every morning he wakes
Fills his cup and listens shamefully
To stories of me

Everybody come on down
Set 'em up and pass 'em round
We're all here for a drowning

I was down at Baker's Hall
I heard somebody talking
That's the last thing I recall
Then my mind went walking
I woke up with a heavy head
On a hard bed trying to believe
These stories of me
Yeah I woke up in a stranger's bed
Wondering about the things she said to me
These stories of me


Neil Finn

These walls
Have eyes
Rows of photographs
And faces like mine

Who do
We become
Without knowing where
We started from

It’s true
I’m missing you
And I stand alone
Inside your room

Everything that you made by hand
Everything that you know by heart

I will try to connect
All the pieces you’ve left
I will carry it on
And let you forget

I’ll remember the years
When your mind was still clear
All the flickering lights
That filled up this silent house


Ben Folds

Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There's an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall
He's cleared all his things and he's put them in boxes
Things that remind him: 'Life has been good'

Twenty-five years
He's worked at the paper
A man's here to take him downstairs
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time

There was no party, there were no songs
'Cause today's just a day like the day that he started
No one is left here that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don't change anything
You get off; someone else can get on

And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time


Grant Lee Phillips

It's the luck of the draw
How you wound up with me
I don't know how at all
But I beg you to stay
Crawl around on this earth
While the world's still small

Honey, don't think
About it too long now
Honey, don't think
You're liable to figure me out

There's something wrong
In my stars
Could you look at my chart
Help me heal these scars?
Could you learn to read minds?
And in the case of mine
Do you read in the dark?

Honey, don't think
About it too long now
Honey, don't think
You're liable to figure me out

 

Not familiar with most of those, PC, but I was hoping to find some new artists this way. I will definitely be checking that stuff out.

 

I'd particularly recommend the Pernice stuff, YGB. He started out in an alt-country band called the Scud Mountain Boys and now primarily records as The Pernice Brothers.

Here's a pretty good recording of him doing a acoustic version of "Bum Leg," one of my favorites. (The opening line: "I got this scar above my eye from the dirty little shit who tried to love me underneath the bridge.")

 

Good thread idea. Here's a couple that resonate for me, one recent, one not:

"Beg, Steal or Borrow" -- Ray LaMontagne (2010)

So the hometown's bringin' you down, Are you drownin' in the small talk and the chatter?
Are you gonna step into line like your Daddy done, Punchin' the time, and climbing life's long ladder?
You've been howlin' at the moon like a slack-jawed fool, And breaking every rule they can throw on.
Well, one of these days is gonna be right soon, You'll find your legs and go. And stay gone.

Young man, so full of big plans, and thinkin' about tomorrow.
Young man, wanna make a stand, you beg, you steal, you borrow.

Now all the friends that you knew in school, They used to be so cool, now they just bore you.
Just look at 'em now, already pullin' the plow, So quick to take to grain, like some old mule.

Young man, so full of big plans, and thinkin' about tomorrow.
Young man, wanna make a stand, you beg, you steal, you borrow.

Dreamin' of the day you're gonna pack your bags and put the miles away.
Oh, just grab your girl and go where no one knows you. What will all the old folks say?

So the hometown's bringin' you down, Are you drownin' in the small talk and the chatter?
Are you gonna step into line like your Daddy done, Punchin' the time, and climbing life's long ladder?

Young man, so full of big plans, and thinkin' about tomorrow.
Young man, wanna make a stand, you beg, you steal, you borrow.

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Now a classic ... written by Neil Young as he left Buffalo Springfield:

"On the Way Home"

When the dream came, I held my breath with my eyes closed
I went insane, like a smoke ring day when the wind blows
Now I won't be back til later on, if I do come back at all
But you know me, and I miss you now.

In a strange game, I saw myself as you knew me
When the change came and you had a chance to see through me
Though the other side is just the same, you can tell my dream is real
Because I love you, can you see me now?

Though we rush ahead to save our time, we are only what we feel.
And I love you. Can you feel it now?

 

Richard Thompson, OBE.

In many ways a British version of Zevon.

 

Grew up a huge Garth Brooks fan, and still am, but one of his go to writers or collaborators who I think deserves mention is Tony Arata.
Wrote The Dance and was in on a number of his other songs including The Change.
Also has written for Patty Loveless, Trisha Yearwood and Emmylou Harris among others according to Wikipedia.

 

McGowan is one of Ireland's greatest poets. As noted, a complete mess on stage with the Pogues although the same wasn't true of the rest of the band.

Some others I will add to those listed here:

Paul Weller (in his Jam days)
Dave Alvin
Ray Davies
Springsteen
Steve Earle
Tom Petty
Bob Seger
Townshend
Mick & Keef
Leiber & Stoller
Buddy Holly
Joe Ely

 

Lennon/McCartney
Dylan
Cat Stevens
Paul Simon
Nick Drake
Patty Griffin