New
Politics on-line, November 17, 2015
Almost
a century ago, the socialist journalist John Reed wrote of the
Industrial Workers of the World—popularly known as the Wobblies,
“Remember, this is the only American working-class movement which
sings. Tremble then at the IWW, for a singing movement is not
to be beaten." On the other hand, the sheriff of San Diego
complained of his jails filled with Wobblies, “I do not know what
to do. I cannot punish them. Listen to them singing all the time, and
yelling and hollering, and telling the jailers to quit work and join
the union.”
Joe
Hill stood foremost among Wobbly songwriters, composing songs to be
sung on soapboxes, picket lines or in jail. And one hundred years ago
this November, the forces of capital and the state of Utah executed
him.
Chicago
musician and scholar Bucky Halker is honoring the centennial with a
CD of new interpretations of Hill’s music, “Anywhere But Utah—The
Songs of Joe Hill” (Revolting Records, available online at CD
Baby), taking his title from Hill’s dying wish that his remains be
transported out of state because he didn’t want “to be found dead
in Utah.” “I wanted to make a record that Hill would like,”
Halker says. “That was my priority from the beginning. I don’t
think he’d like a straight folk revival, strumming acoustic guitar
approach, as that has nothing to do with most of his material. He
played the piano and the fiddle, after all. The folk revivalists did
a great service by keeping Hill’s work in circulation, but trying
to keep him in that small musical box is way off the mark. So, I
borrowed from vaudeville and the music hall, piano blues and early
jazz, alt-country, swing, punk, and gospel.”
Born
Joel Hagglund in Sweden in 1879, Hill immigrated to the United States
in 1902, changing his name to Joseph Hillstrom, which would
eventually be shortened to Joe Hill. As a Wobbly, Hill was active in
free speech fights in Fresno and San Diego, a strike of railroad
construction workers in British Columbia, and even fought in a
revolution in Mexico. In 1914, Hill was arrested in Salt Lake City
and charged with killing a storekeeper, allegedly in a botched
robbery. The evidence was thin, but the prosecutor urged conviction
as much on the basis of Hill’s IWW membership as his involvement in
the crime. An international amnesty movement pressed for a new trial,
but the Utah governor refused and Hill was executed by firing squad
on November 19, 1915. In a final message to IWW General Secretary
Bill Haywood, Hill urged, “Don’t waste any time in
mourning—organize.”
Hill’s
life, death and music have continued to inspire. As Wobbly
historians Dean Nolan and Fred Thompson have written, “There is
that about Joe Hill that has endeared him to union people around the
world, including many who know they might have quite an argument with
Joe if they could meet. These many expressions of regard ... have
developed largely outside of Hill’s union. Hill’s persistence as
an enduring symbol is thus not some artifice maintained by a handful,
but part of the process … through which the working class shapes
its hopes and values. Hill has become an industrial William Tell.”
In the words of the Alfred Hayes-Earl Robinson song “I
Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill,” “where workingmen are out on strike, Joe
Hill is at their side.”
In
Halker’s view, “music was a centerpiece of the Wobbly movement
culture. The IWW cleverly used singing and chanting as a way to
garner attention from workers, the media, and the authorities. Fifty
workers singing makes a lot more noise at a rally or in a jail cell
than one speaker on a soapbox or one person ranting in the joint.
Singing jailbirds can make a big ruckus, one that the taxpayers and
authorities discovered early on.”
Hill’s
mastery of American vernacular is especially impressive given that
English was not his primary language. As Halker comments, “his work
is filled with humor, irony and sarcasm, hardly easy skills to gain
in your second language. No doubt he picked all this up from hobos,
labor activists, and Wobblies, but I also believe his ear for music
helped him in this effort. You can tell from his lyrics that he paid
close attention to the music-hall and Tin Pan Alley writers of the
day. Most of them were also immigrants or children of immigrants and
were very skilled at slang, lyrical twists, and clever use of
idioms.”
Hill’s
lyrics remain timely, addressing issues of unemployment, police
brutality, feminism and militarism. “Stung Right,” for instance,
“represents the strong anti-military bent of the IWW, even before
the outbreak of WWI,” Halker says. “Many immigrant workers came
from regions of the world where they were drafted and made to fight
the battles for ruling class aristocrats and capitalists and were
determined to stay out of future frays of that sort. What’s more,
many working-class groups saw war as a senseless ruling-class fight
that only pitted workers against each other. Nationalism was suspect.
Little wonder, then, that after the Spanish-American War in 1898, and
the needless slaughter that entailed, anti-war and anti-military
sentiments found welcome ears. Hill was aware that workers also
signed up with the military when their economic situations were
difficult. At least they gave you a bit of cash and some food in the
army. In this piece, he’s warning workers not to fall for it. It’s
noteworthy as well that he mentions the contaminated rations in the
final verse. During the Spanish-American War the big meat packers
like Swift and Armour made boatloads of profits from their contracts
to deliver rations to the troops. In their efforts to maximize
profits they often included contaminated and chemically-laced foods
that made workers very sick and killed more troops than the ‘enemy’
ever did with guns and bayonets. I think it’s one of Hill’s best
efforts.”
Similarly,
“The Preacher and the Slave” speaks to our world of television
evangelists.
The
Starvation Army they play,
They sing and they clap and they pray.
They sing and they clap and they pray.
Till
they get all your coin on the drum,
Then
they'll tell you when you're on the bum:
You
will eat, bye and bye,
In
that glorious land above the sky;
Work
and pray, live on hay,
You'll
get pie in the sky when you die.
Hill
often used the tunes of hymns or popular songs for his parodies,
Halker says. “Since hymns were well known, even across sectarian
religious (and political) lines, hymn tunes were often used by labor
songwriters going back to the mid-nineteenth century. In that regard,
Hill’s use of ‘In the Sweet By and By’ as the tune for ‘The
Preacher and the Slave’ was very much in a labor
tradition, as was ‘Nearer My God to Thee’ for his ‘Nearer My
Job to Thee.’”
The
CD also contains some surprising obscurities, like the wistfully
romantic "Come and Take a Joy-Ride in My Aeroplane," which
represents the power of dreaming as a weapon against capitalist
miserabilism. “Frankly, I think historians and musicians have
missed the boat in not addressing this romantic impulse,” Halker
comments. “I suppose it seems counter to our image of the left-wing
radical and revolutionary, at least for most observers. But hell, I’d
rather hang out with a person with strong romantic tendencies and a
left-wing leaning personality, than some dour old sourpuss like Marx
or Lenin, wouldn’t you? Also, I think within the IWW there were was
a strong sense of romance about the world. This can be found clearly
in Wobbly writers like Haywire Mac or Ralph Chaplin. Some of this
could be channeled toward a utopian impulse, as in the classic IWW
song ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain.’”
Halker
continues, “I think Hill and other Wobbly bards and writers should
get some credit for their use of sarcasm and irony in the development
of American literature. They had sharp wits and tongues that worked
deftly and at great speed, something which only pissed off the
lunkhead bosses, the law, and the ruling elite even more. The
authorities and their lackeys dislike radicals and they really hate
them when they’re much smarter than they are.”
No comments:
Post a Comment