Phil Ochs had what I believe to be the prettiest 
voice and most passionate political stance of all 
the American folk singers in the era of the 1960's. 
Very few of his songs had no social or 
political commentary, all that did were 
versed with manic and unbridled patriotism, 
though many didn't see it quite that way. 
Ochs, like so many of that decade, believed 
in and practiced the freedoms of America, 
especially that of freedom of speech, 
but disagreed with most of the practices 
and opinions of the government of the time. 
(I think Nixon even had a personal Ochs dartboard.) 
Phil Ochs started out right beside Dylan
and the other biggies of the day, but when
the others toned down their messages to a
more subtle level (to get airplay), Ochs
refused to be anything but biting, sarcastic,
and in his way, brutally honest (therefore,
not getting airplay...).









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While others danced around issues and wrote
between the lines, Phil jumped in with no
holds barred, baring the issues of the war
in Vietnam, segregation in the south, and the
oppression of the US government on its
people, in ways much like Woody Guthrie did:
in your face and to the point.



There are several eras that I 
consider the phases of Ochs' career.
First was the Folk City era of just
getting up on a stage and performing his
songs, often between other acts who are now
famous. This was an innocent and enthusiastic
time in which it seemed that "regular folks"
could sing and make a difference. And I firmly
believe that it did make a difference, because
many songs of the 1963 to 1967 years made 
people aware of issues and the slant on them
that was not what their parents talked about
over dinner. Some bits of Ochs' songs during
that time show his depth of understanding as
well as his style of scathing commentary:



Well I've seen travel in many ways
I've traveled in cars and old subways
But in Birmingham some people chose
To fly down the street from a fire hose.
Doin' some hard travelin'...from 
hydrants of plenty.

You see Alabama is a soveriegn state 
With soveriegn dogs and soveriegn hate
They stand for the Bible, for the 
Constitution
They stand against Communist revolution.
They say: "It's pinkos like you that 
freed the slaves."
And they're right.

(from "Talking Birmingham Jam")




For I marched to the battles of 
the German trench
In a war that was bound to end
all wars
Oh I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain't marchin' anymore

It's always the old to lead us 
to the war
It's always the young to fall
Now look at all we've won with 
the sabre and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all

(from "I Ain't Marchin' Anymore")



Oh I am just a student, sir, and 
only want to learn
But it's hard to read through the 
risin' smoke of the books that
you like to burn

(from "I'm Gonna Say It Now")



I vote for the democratic party
They want the U.N. to be strong
I go to all the Pete Seeger concerts
He sure gets me singing those songs
I'll send all the money you ask for
But don't ask me to come on along
So love me, love me, love me,
I'm a liberal

(taking potshots at non-activist
liberals, in "Love Me, I'm a Liberal")



Training is the word we use
nice word to have in case we lose..

We threw all the people in relocation camps
Under lock and key,
Made damned sure they're free..

(from "Talking Vietnam")



The next phase I see in Ochs career
included a loss of political innocence;
if he ever had any, it disappeared 
after the 1968 Chicago Convention. The
movement took steps that were more
drastic, to the point, and at times,
absurdly theatrical which garnered a
lot of attention to the antiwar 
movement, in particular. Ochs' 1968
era songs took on a more angry feel in
his politics, but, at times,still held 
his sense of humor:



The draft board is debating
If they'd like to take my life
I'd sooner take a wife
and raise a child or two
Wouldn't you?
Peace has turned to poison 
and the flag has blown a fuse
Even courage is confused...

Half the world is crazy
And the other half is scared
Madonnas do the minuet 
For naked millionaires
The anarchists are rising 
while we're racing for the moon
It doesn't take a seer to see
the scene is coming soon...

(from "Tape From California")



Silent soldiers on a silver screen
Framed in fantasies and drugged in dreams
Unpaid actors of the mystery
The mad director knows that freedom
will not make you free
And what's this got to do with me?
I declare the war is over...

So do your duty boys and
join with pride
Serve your country in her suicide
Find a flag so you can wave goodbye
But just before the end 
even treason might be worth a try
This country is too young to die
I declare the war is over...

(from "The War is Over")



The pilot's playing poker in the
cockpit of the plane
The casualties are rising like
the dropping of the rain
And a mountain of machinery 
will fall before a man
when you're white boots marching
in a yellow land...

Raw recruits are lining up like
coffins in a cage
Oh, we're fighting in a war we lost
before the war began
We're the white boots marching in a
yellow land.

(from "White Boots...")



***One of the funniest things surrounding
Phil Ochs songs was rumored to be that 
one of his most patriotic (and patriotic
sounding, in the Woody Guthrie tradition)
songs, The Power and the Glory, was 
actually sung publically by Anita Bryant.
Apparently she never really listened to
the song, or it never would have been 
sung by mrs. puritanism:***

Come take a walk with me through this 
green and growing land
Walk through the valleys and the rivers
and the plains...
Here is a land full of power and glory
Beauty that words cannot recall
For her power shall rest on the 
strength of her freedom
Her glory shall rest on us all...
SHE'S ONLY AS RICH AS THE POOREST
OF THE POOR,
ONLY AS FREE AS A PADLOCKED PRISON DOOR
ONLY AS STRONG AS OUR LOVE FOR THIS LAND
ONLY AS TALL AS WE STAND...

(from "The Power and the Glory")





Here's to the State of Richard Nixon
For underneath his borders the devil 
draws no line
If you drag his muddy rivers nameless 
bodies you will find
And the fat trees of the forest have 
hid a thousand crimes
And the calender is lyin' when it reads 
the present time
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out 
the heart of
Richard Nixon find yourself another 
country to be part of

And here's to the laws of Richard Nixon
Where the wars are fought in secret, 
Pearl Harbor every day
We punish him with income tax that 
he don't have to pay
And he's tapping his own brother just 
to here what he would say
Oh, corruption can be classic in the 
Richard Nixon way
Here's to the land you've torn out 
the heart of
Richard Nixon find yourself another 
country to be part of

And here's to the government of Richard Nixon
In the swamp of their bureaucracy their 
always boggin' down
And criminals are posing as advisors 
to the crown
And they hope that no one sees the sights 
and no one hears the sound
And the speeches of the President are 
the ravings of a clown
Oh, here's to the land you've torn out 
the heart of
Richard Nixon find yourself another 
country to be part of.

(an all time classic..."Here's to the State
of RN")

The third phase of Phil Ochs' career
is what I refer to as the "pre-suicide"
era. Phil took his own life by hanging
in 1976, but the abyss into which he was 
spiraling in his personal as well as 
professional life was reflected in his
music for years previous to his death.
Ochs was Bipolar, by the way, which
has a 20% suicide rate. And it seems
the more creative the Bipolar, the 
higher the risk (in my opinion).
Here are samples of some songs from
that period...



You laugh at the people who walk outside 
on the sidewalk
And you talk to yourself so much
when you see other people you can't talk
This time it's true
The charade is through
And you can't seem to run away from you
away from you...

The fat official smiles at the pass on the border
And the hungry broom makes sure that the room is in order
You pull the shade
All the beds are made
As your lips caress the razor, of the blade
Of the blade...

(from "Doesn't Lenny Live Here Anymore")

 

Sometime's I feel that the world
It feeds on my hunger and tears on my time
And I'm tired,
Yes, I'm tired

Every face on the street is as cold the air
As hard as the pavement moves beneath my feet
And I'm tired,
Yes, I'm tired

Sometimes I stop and ask to myself
Oh why should I be so alone
It comes and it goes
and nobody knows
For they're blind with a pain all their own

(from "I'm Tired")

 

My life was once a joy to me,
Never knowing, I was growing, everyday.
My life was once a toy to me,
And I wound it and I found it ran away.
So I raced through the night
with a face at my feet, like a god I would write,
All the melodies were sweet, and the women were right.
It was easy to survive, my life was so alive.

My life was once a flag to me
And I waved it and behaved like I was told.
My life was once a drag to me
And I loudly, and I proudly, lost control
I was drawn by a dream
I was loved by a lie, every serf on the scene
Begged me to buy.
But I slipped through the scheme
So lucky to fail
My life was not for sale.

My life is now a myth to me
Like the drifter, with his laughter in the dawn.
My life is now a death to me
So I'll mold it and I'll hold it till I'm born
So I turned to the land
Where I'm so out of place
Throw a curse on the plan
In return for the grace
To know where I stand
Take everything I own
Take your tap from my phone
And leave my life alone
My life alone.

(from "My Life")
That one gets to me. Darkness, and JUSTIFIED
paranoia in the phone tap reference. This one
and the next seem to me to be Ochs' darkest 
statements about his thoughts and situation.

 

Hello, hello, hello
Is there anybody home?
I've only called to say
I'm sorry.
The drums are in the dawn,
and all the voices gone.
And it seems that there are no more songs...

Once I knew a sage
who sang upon the stage
He told about the world,
His lover.
A ghost without a name,
Stands ragged in the rain.
And it seems that there are no more songs...

A star is in the sky,
It's time to say goodbye.
A whale is on the beach,
He's dying.
A white flag in my hand,
And a white bone in the sand.
And it seems that there are no more songs...

(from "No More Songs") 

There are a few more 
songs that come to mind in this era, "Rehearsals
For Retirement" among them), but the
last two sum up the end so well that it
would be redundant to include more. And for 
me, his life was on the way to ending with 
these last two. 



         
The final chapter that I want on this page is a
selection of songs written about Phil by others, 
after his death:


The Parade's Still Passing By
By Harry Chapin

I got the news today
That you refused to play
Cause you never made number one
But it's not just the words
It's the deeds that are heard
When all is said and done
Kings take their crowns
They melt them all down
Trying to get the gold out
You went to hell and
Even when you weren't selling
You never ever sold out.

You weren't no leader,
You were more like a bleeder
Who was trying to cry for us all
You weren't no sage
But your sense of outrage
Sounded like a trumpet call
Fifteen years ago
In the old folky show
You were just one voice in the crowd
But now with so few singing
Your voice would have been ringing
Out 'bout twice as loud.

There but for fortune
Say a small circle of friends
Some may see the changes
So few see the ends
The pleasures of the harbor
Have come to you at last
You may not be marching anymore
But the parade's still going past.

I'm not taking the blame
That we killed you
You know you did that to yourself
But it was kind of a shame
That you played that game
You were better than anyone else
One shot of your bottle
Got you full throttle
It was the friend that was always there
But your greatest gift
And the curse you lived with
Was that you could always care.

 

Legends
by Sammy Walker

The first time that I called you in that old 
New York hotel
It was Halloween all over with that trick you 
played so well
I woke you up from dreaming singing songs 
of yesterday
We took a drive to Newport to hear 
St. Peter play

chorus:
Dust on you mouth, legends on your mind
Hanging out with Bogart in some 
bygone place and time 
Sing me your sweet Changes when I'm 
feeling down and blue
And I'll treasure precious hours that 
I stole away with you

Oh the muggy nights in Soho, I had 
so much to learn
You gave me wings to fly away and 
asked for no return
Lon Chaney's ghost beside you wore 
the face of Mickey Finn
And I never once suspected that 
you and he were friends

The last that I saw you you weren't 
really even there
I cried when I heard you come across 
out on the air
You bid your last farewell just like 
your first hello
And I'll always think about you when 
I pass through Ohio

 

I Dreamed I Saw Phil Ochs Last Night
By Billy Bragg

i dreamed i saw phil ochs last night
alive as you or me      
says i to phil "you're ten years dead"
"i never died' says he
"i never died" says he

the music business killed you phil 
they ignored the things you said         
and cast you out when fashions changed
says phil "but i ain't dead"
says phil "but i ain't dead"
        
the fbi harassed you phil
they smeared you with their lies
says he "but they could never kill
what they could not compromise
i never compromised"

"though fashion's changed and critics sneered
the songs that i have sung
are just as true tonight as then
        the struggle carries on
        the struggle carries on"

with the song of freedom rings out loud
from valleys and from hills
where people stand up for their rights
phil ochs is with us still
phil ochs inspires us still.

 

Phil
By Tom Paxton

I opened the paper, there was your picture
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand
I couldn't believe it, the paper was shakin'
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand

I know I'm gonna spend the rest of my 
lifetime wondering why
You found yourself so badly hurt you had to die

I opened the paper, there was your picture
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand
The phone started ringing, had I heard about it?
I shook every time I heard it ring
What was my reaction? I put the phone down
That was the only news that was fit to sing

They ask about Dylan, about MacDougal 
Street and Third
Question piled on question and each 
question more absurd

I opened the paper, there was your picture
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand

Oh, I remember "There But For Fortune",
There but for fortune you and I would go
Fortune turned its back on you,
Or so it must have seemed to you,
Christ alone knows what was the final blow

The last time I saw you, the last time I saw you,
Bleeker Street outside the Other End
I told you I'd see you, I got distracted
I never saw your face again

I heard that you were feeling stronger every day
I heard that you were well with good things 
on their way

Then I opened the paper, there was your picture
Gone, gone, gone by your own hand.





pan2323 (at) gmail (dot) com