Man with the Hoe (and Songs From the Valley of the Moon)

by Scott Hylbert

supported by
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $20 USD  or more

     

  • Poster/Print

    Poster commemorating the defense of this graduate program capstone project. 11x17" heavy stock poster (See PDF in liner notes upload)
    ships out within 10 days
    edition of 50 

      $20 USD or more 

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Features a contextual essay on back cover

    Includes unlimited streaming of Man with the Hoe (and Songs From the Valley of the Moon) via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 2 days
    edition of 100 

      $12 USD or more 

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 7 ik ben & (The) Upper Middle & Scott Hylbert solo, and more releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Man with the Hoe (and Songs From the Valley of the Moon), Lay Down Your Arms, Nothing Sad to Sing, No None's Gonna Die, Cutting Glass (with Diamonds) by The Upper Middle, Red (EP), and Orange (EP). , and , .

      $22.75 USD or more (35% OFF)

     

1.
2.
3.
03:06
4.
5.
6.
7.
03:15
8.

about

Written, performed and recorded by Scott Hylbert. Produced and mixed by Roger Moutenot. Lyrical content edited by Joe Henry, the poet/song-writer/novelist. Academic direction by Cecelia Tichi, the William R. Kenan Jr. Professor of English and professor of American studies at Vanderbilt University. Special thanks to Martin Rapisarda, Associate Dean of School of Arts & Sciences and the head of the Masters of Liberal Arts & Sciences program. Music performed by Scott and Roger with some additional stringed and percussion instruments added by Brian Hylbert and Kris Woolsey. Inspiration from progressive-era literary works: Jack London's Valley of the Moon, Edwin Markham's Man with a Hoe and Frank Norris' The Octopus: A Story of California. This project originally served as a Capstone Project for the artist's graduate studies at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. Originally presented and defended on December 3, 2013

credits

released November 22, 2016

Songs:
1) Up Horses, Now!
2) Root Hog, or Die
3) Million-heir
4) Jesus Lover of My Soul
5) Song of the Abalone
6) Valley of the Moon
7) Figment
8) Man with the Hoe

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

ik ben & (The) Upper Middle & Scott Hylbert solo, and more Nashville, Tennessee

contact / help

Contact ik ben & (The) Upper Middle & Scott Hylbert solo, and more

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Up Horses, Now!
Up, horses, now!
And straight and true
Let every broken furrow run
The strength you sweat
Shall blossom yet
In the golden glory to the sun

Hands, gather, round!
We speak as one
Not as dogs clamoring for bones
The blood you let,
Shall temper yet
The laboring man’s union of the world
Track Name: Root Hog or Die
Obadier, he dreampt a dream
Dreampt he was drivin’ a ten-mule team
But when he woke he heaved a sigh,
The lead-mule kicked out the swing-mule’s eye

Root Hog, or die
Meet me on the ‘morrow, my bounty
by and by

Oh! Times on Bitter Creek, they never can be beat
Root hog or die is on every wagon sheet;
The sand within your throat, the dust within your eye
Bend your back and stand it - root hog or die

Root Hog, or die
Crossing the great plain, my bounty
by and by

Root Hog, or die
Meet me on the ‘morrow, my bounty
by and by
Track Name: Million Heir
Nobody loves a millionaire
Nobody likes his looks
Nobody’ll share his slightest care,
He classes with thugs and crooks
Thriftiness has become a crime,
So Spend everything you earn;
We’re living now in a funny time,
When money is made to burn

We’re living now in a funny time,
When money is made to burn
I wanna be a millionaire
I wanna take my turn

Nobody loves a millionaire
Nobody likes his style
Nobody knows what it takes to walk
in his patent-leather shoes for a mile
He doesn’t give as much as he takes
And nothing that he has is his
Says the man in the easy chair
sipping on a slow gin fizz

Says the man in the easy chair
sipping on a slow gin fizz
I wanna be a millionaire
and take over I can run that biz (ness)

Nobody loves a millionaire
Nobody seems to think
The one who pulls the wagon train
should be living flush in the pink
Thriftiness has become a crime,
So Spend everything you earn;
We’re living now in a funny time,
When money is made to burn

We’re living now in a funny time,
When money is made to burn
I wanna be a millionaire
I wanna take my turn
Track Name: Jesus Lover of My Soul
Jesus, lover of my soul
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is nigh
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide
And receive my soul at last

Jethro tie that packhorse down
Water up thy chestnut mare
Onto the valley of the moon,
Our pastures await us there
Foggy coast of redwood groves,
Oh how I’ve dreampt of thee,
Lead us into nature’s garden
Where we long to be

(bridge)
Meet me first down in Chinatown
won’t you JC?
Who will save all the pagans
from Bacchus and me? (he he)
Track Name: Song of the Abalone
Oh! some folks boast of quail on toast, because they think it’s tony;
But I’m content to owe my rent and live on abalone.
Oh!  Mission Point’s a friendly joint where every crab’s a crony,
And true and kind you’ll ever find the clinging abalone.

He wanders free beside the sea Where ’er the coast is stony;
He flaps his wings and madly sings ­The plaintive abalone.
Some stick to biz, some flirt with Liz Down on the sands of Coney;
But we, by hell, stay in Carmel, And whang the abalone.

We sit around and gaily pound, And bear no acrimony
Because our ob ­ject is a gob Of sizzling abalone.
Oh! some like ham and some like lamb And some like macaroni;
But bring me in a pail of gin And a tub of abalone.

Oh! some drink rain and some champagne Or brandy by the pony;
But I will try a little rye With a dash of abalone.
Some live on hope and some on dope And some on alimony. 
But our tom-cat, he lives on fat And tender abalone.

The more we take, the more they make In deep sea matrimony;
Race suicide cannot betide The fertile abalone.
Track Name: Valley of the Moon
Sweet as the wind-lute’s airy strains
Your gentle muse has learned to sing,
And California’s boundless plains
Prolong the soft notes echoing
I want to find that valley of the moon

Chorus: I want to find that valley of the moon
Show me Jesus, Buddha or Vishnu
Tell my mama the mountain, I’m coming soon
There’s no stopping till we’re through

The dusk of the greenhouse is luminous yet
With quivers of opal and tremors of gold;
For the sun is at rest, and the light from the west,
Like delicate wine that is mellow and old
I want to find that valley of the moon
Track Name: Figment
Am I a figment of your
imagination
And are you one of mine?
Am I trying too hard to find
applications
for narrative and rhyme?
I don’t know how to
fix this situation
I’m as confused as I look
And I don’t know how to
wage inner peace
All I know is I’ve got me, myself and I
and a little time
and I don’t know just how much
time, no I don’t know
time, and I don’t know just how much
time, time, time
Am I a subject of your
exasperation
And are you a cause of mine?
Am I trying too hard to find
cooperation
‘tween narrative and rhyme?
I don’t know how to
fix this situation
I’m as confused as I look
And I don’t know how to
wage inner peace
All I know is I’ve got me, myself and I
and a little time
and I don’t know just how much
time, no I don’t know
time, and I don’t know just how much
time, time, time
Track Name: Man with a Hoe
Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face,
And on his back the burden of the world.
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes.
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land;
To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient deep?
Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than this —
More tongued with censure of the world's blind greed —
More filled with signs and portents for the soul —
More fraught with menace to the universe.
What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
Time's tragedy is in the aching stoop;
Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
Plundered, profaned, and disinherited,
Cries protest to the Powers that made the world.
A protest that is also a prophecy.
O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Rebuild in it the music and the dream,
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
O masters, lords and rulers in all lands
How will the Future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings —
With those who shaped him to the thing he is —
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world.
After the silence of the centuries?