I've been maintaining this blog (for better or for worse) over the last eight years. Over these years, its natural evolution has led it into becoming something of a niche place for discussion of music in general and Qawwali in particular. Rather than trying to return my existing blog to its pre-Qawwali eclectic roots, I decided I’d start anew on Tumblr. So if you’re interested in music, Qawwali and subcontinental culture, keep reading/listening/watching/commenting here. For all of the above and everything else under the sun, head on over to my Tumblr page .

Sunday, April 12, 2009

....Of A Good Excuse To Sing The Blues

You can't be expected to receive a billion dollars worth of blues records and not be inspired to write a blues song. But there's preconditions to writing the blues. The first thing I'm gonna need is a proper bluesman name, even Bobby Dylan had to call himself "Blind Boy Grunt" when he was in the hollerin' mood. Although my eyes have finally started to give in to the strain, calling myself "Blind Musab" will be a bit premature. Considering the medical degree I oughtta get when my five years in the pen end and the massive paunch that I seem to be destined to carry, I think " Big Doctor Moose" will do fine..... unless I can think of a better one.

So, here goes. In the tradition of Elmore James, Otis Rush and Blind Willie McTell, my first blues song.

"Springtime Blues" by Big Doctor Moose. All rights reserved and so forth...

"The springtime sun was shinin', I was sleepin' in my bed;
Lawd, the springtime sun was shinin' , but I was snoozin' in my bed,
Sunlight streamin' on my pillow, shinin' on my weary head.

When the blues they come to wake me, I was dreamin' of my gal;
When them blues come to wake me, I was dreamin' of my gal,
Walkin' with my pretty baby, by the banks of the ol' canal.

There's a million things goin' on, millions more about to start;
I said there's a million things' a waitin', millions more that I could start,
But these springtime blues have got me, and they're tearin' me apart.

All my friends they ask about me, wonderin' why I don't show up;
All them friends they ask about me, wonderin' when'll I show up,
While I'm runnin' from my blues Lawd, hopin' they never catch up.

I'm gonna lay my weary head on some lonely railroad track;
Friends I'm gonna lay my weary head down on some lonely railroad track,
And if them springtime blues come steamin' up, I'm gonna pull my damn head back !"

Now if only I can get someone to record it.........

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