Article: The Music In Me: Phil Ochs 101

[Gilbert Klein]

View full article

[Cycleman]

Phil Ochs, Phil Ochs.

 

I'd say this piece brings back memories, but I still think about him often, and still listen to his music once in a while.

 

First, though, my memories of Phil Ochs and related connections.

• Saw Phil sing live twice. The first time was a concert in the winter of 1966 at the Hunter College Auditorium in New York. I was in high school, and went with my friend Joel. Actually, what I remember most was the opening act was a group we had never heard of before, an opening act that delayed our seeing Phil, an opening act of a group called The Doors.
  
• The second time was at the Democratic Convention in Chicago in August 1968. I went there, along with Joel, as part of a Eugene McCarthy contingent and somehow, we spent a bunch of time hanging out with a Life Magazine reporter who went there to cover the hippies. And because we were with the reporter, we got first row seats at the Unbirthday Party for Lyndon Johnson on August 27th. And among the performers, of course, was Phil Ochs. We were that close.
  
• Phil Ochs was born the same day, different year, as my mother, December 19th. I had a very mixed, mainly not-good, relationship with my mother, but I loved Phil, loved his music, loved his passion.
  
• Phil's song "I Ain't Marching Anymore" was a strong catalyst in my knowing I wouldn't serve in Vietnam. However, in the second draft lottery, during my sophomore year in college, I got a number in the 340 range. So I didn't need to test how much Phil Ochs' music moved my personal decisions.
  

Now, some comments about this really fine article. One sentence really isn't accurate from my point of view: "Phil Ochs was a significant part of youth culture from 1964 until maybe 1966; Dylan moved on and got better, and Phil stayed where he was and got stale."

 

Actually, rather than getting stale, Phil's music moved away from topical (aka, protest) music to more personal, emotional states. I mean, he always had that in him, with songs from the mid-1960s like "Changes" (sit by my side, come as close as the air). And by the late-1960s, especially with his first A&M album, Pleasures of the Harbor, the personal became more exquisite with songs like the titular one and most notably, for me, with "The Crucifixion" (and the night comes again to the circle-studded sky/the stars settle slowly, in loneliness they lie), with lyrics that are more lyrical poetry than Mr. Dylan, in my ears.

 

[Side note: Dylan played with language, Ochs played with emotions.]

 

Than later, as Phil became more depressed, the personal was still beautiful but tremendously sad with songs like "Rehearsals for Retirement" (the days grow longer for smaller prizes/I feel a stranger to all surprises) and "No More Songs" (once I knew a sage/who sang upon the stage/he told about the world, his lover).

 

A couple of years ago, I got my wife to watch the documentary "There But For Fortune" with me when it was streaming on Netflix. She, six years younger and from a different American culture than I, was able to understand after watching the film why Phil Ochs had moved me so much.

 

Phil Ochs, Phil Ochs.

 

Gilbert writes: "...and this was powerful stuff when I heard it fifty years ago."

 

And I write: It's still powerful today.

[wgscott]

Outstanding article! Thanks for posting it. (I'm "only" 53. I only learned of him in the late 1980s, first from a song -- repurposed Joe Hill -- that Billy Bragg wrote. I was very interested at the time in learning about how the FBI crushed people like him.)

 

 

Images of innocence charge him go on

But the decadence of destiny is looking for a pawn

To a nightmare of knowledge he opens up the gate

And a blinding revelation is laid upon his plate

That beneath the greatest love is a hurricane of hate

And God help the critic of the dawn.

[wgscott]

Jim Dean of Indiana is another remarkably lyrical example, apropos to Cycleman's very insightful comments.

 

Oh, for completeness, here is the Billy Bragg tribute I was referring to in the previous post:

 

[tmtomh]

I learned of Ochs the same way wgscott did (I'm 47yo myself). In the late '90s I really got into Ochs and read a great (albeit sad) biography of him. Thanks so much for posting this article!

[astrotoy]

Gilbert, thanks for the wonderful article. I was in college in Cambridge MA (1963-67) when Phil Ochs came on the scene. Kennedy had been assassinated in November of my Freshman year and we were all to quickly lose the political innocence that had marked the Eisenhower years and the optimism of the young JFK. Ochs didn't mince words with his songs and with his rich, slightly raw baritone voice. It was easier for me to listen to him than the young Mr. Zimmerman. I eagerly bought each of his first albums as they came out. Vietnam was in its early stages when he sang about the advisors the US was sending there, well before the escalations that marked the LBJ years. The last album I bought at that point was "Pleasures of the Harbor" by which time he had switched from Elektra to A&M and moved away from the topical. While in grad school I lost track of Ochs, and didn't reconnect until the early '70's when I bought his "Tape from California", "Rehearsals for Retirement" and "Phil Ochs Greatest Hits." I read with great sadness about his death just a few years later.

 

I dug out my 6 Phil Ochs albums. A few interesting things I found. Lincoln Mayorga of Sheffield Records fame played the piano accompaniment to Ochs first three albums for A&M. Laurindo Almeida has a credit for his "Greatest Hits" album. The GH title is ironic. The back cover says "50 Phil Ochs Fans Can't Be Wrong!" and all are new songs. Van Dyke Parks produced the GH album. The sense of his early albums being part singing journalist is clear in the title of his first album "All the News that's Fit to Sing."

 

Larry

[TubeLover]

Wonderful article on a brilliant talent who became lost in time. While I am also a bit too young to have been aware of him at the time, much later, I truly recognized the rare talent of this man, as much tied to "protest" songs, as he was, especially later to music that would affect anyone with a heart implicitly. His ability to move you with lyrics amd melody resulted in some of the most memorable music of that entire period.

 

Do yourself a favor and purchase the two cd Phil Och's tribute set "What's That I Hear" that was released in 1998 (I doubt a download is available). It features 28 songs performed by many top current folk artists, as well as some of the original artists of Phil's era. The number of truly moving, staggeringly heartfelt songs will leave you in amazement. It is one of the recordings I simply could not do without, and receives regular playing even now, eighteen years later far more than anyone might expect. Phil's songwriting talents leave no question as to his place in music history.

 

Various Artists - What's That I Hear? The Songs of Phil Ochs - Amazon.com Music

 

JC

[telebob]

He was one of those who let me know I was on the right road. I hated that he took his own life.

[stevebythebay]

Coming of age in the 60's I was taken more by the political than lyrical. So, I found Ochs along with Tom Paxton and others. I certainly agree that with the message and passion came the lyricism. He picketed more than commented. So, clearly not the next Dylan. But that was where and when I felt him most, especially attacking the war and other issues. Yet as he moved away from the overtly political, so did I. Black and white slowly became grey -- and my focus on lyrics changed to a focus on the musical. Slowly moved from the folk scene to jazz, classical and many other forms of music. So I remember him as helping to shape and energize me in my youth. But although I tell myself that I aint' marching anymore, I still do when my blood begins to boil. And that seems to happen these days more than I'd expect.

[John C Freeman]

Great Article on Phil Ochs, I always wondered about him. Never saw him in concert. I notice that you have written a book on KFAT radio. Good for you, it legacy continues on at Kpig. Love that station. Hope you still listen down it Baja. It is on the net. In according to Kpig, it was the first on the net way back in 1999 or something like that.

[Gilbert Klein]

Phil Ochs, Phil Ochs.

 

I'd say this piece brings back memories, but I still think about him often, and still listen to his music once in a while.

 

First, though, my memories of Phil Ochs and related connections.

• Saw Phil sing live twice. The first time was a concert in the winter of 1966 at the Hunter College Auditorium in New York. I was in high school, and went with my friend Joel. Actually, what I remember most was the opening act was a group we had never heard of before, an opening act that delayed our seeing Phil, an opening act of a group called The Doors.
  
• The second time was at the Democratic Convention in Chicago in August 1968. I went there, along with Joel, as part of a Eugene McCarthy contingent and somehow, we spent a bunch of time hanging out with a Life Magazine reporter who went there to cover the hippies. And because we were with the reporter, we got first row seats at the Unbirthday Party for Lyndon Johnson on August 27th. And among the performers, of course, was Phil Ochs. We were that close.
  
• Phil Ochs was born the same day, different year, as my mother, December 19th. I had a very mixed, mainly not-good, relationship with my mother, but I loved Phil, loved his music, loved his passion.
  
• Phil's song "I Ain't Marching Anymore" was a strong catalyst in my knowing I wouldn't serve in Vietnam. However, in the second draft lottery, during my sophomore year in college, I got a number in the 340 range. So I didn't need to test how much Phil Ochs' music moved my personal decisions.
  

Now, some comments about this really fine article. One sentence really isn't accurate from my point of view: "Phil Ochs was a significant part of youth culture from 1964 until maybe 1966; Dylan moved on and got better, and Phil stayed where he was and got stale."

 

Actually, rather than getting stale, Phil's music moved away from topical (aka, protest) music to more personal, emotional states. I mean, he always had that in him, with songs from the mid-1960s like "Changes" (sit by my side, come as close as the air). And by the late-1960s, especially with his first A&M album, Pleasures of the Harbor, the personal became more exquisite with songs like the titular one and most notably, for me, with "The Crucifixion" (and the night comes again to the circle-studded sky/the stars settle slowly, in loneliness they lie), with lyrics that are more lyrical poetry than Mr. Dylan, in my ears.

 

[Side note: Dylan played with language, Ochs played with emotions.]

 

Than later, as Phil became more depressed, the personal was still beautiful but tremendously sad with songs like "Rehearsals for Retirement" (the days grow longer for smaller prizes/I feel a stranger to all surprises) and "No More Songs" (once I knew a sage/who sang upon the stage/he told about the world, his lover).

 

A couple of years ago, I got my wife to watch the documentary "There But For Fortune" with me when it was streaming on Netflix. She, six years younger and from a different American culture than I, was able to understand after watching the film why Phil Ochs had moved me so much.

 

Phil Ochs, Phil Ochs.

 

Gilbert writes: "...and this was powerful stuff when I heard it fifty years ago."

 

And I write: It's still powerful today.

 

 

Greetings, cycleman:

I should have responded to this with alacrity. Sorry, but just saw it and enjoyed your response and did some listening and want to agree with most of it, and add a touch. Regarding "Phil Ochs was a significant part of youth culture from 1964 until maybe 1966; Dylan moved on and got better, and Phil stayed where he was and got stale." I think you’re right about something I was wrong about, and I think you’re wrong about something you don’t know you’re wrong about. I was wrong and you are so right about his music not getting stale, but rather moving away from protest, to a more personal expression. Since you’re response, I checked it out and you are right, sir. I relate to it as Hesse did in “Journey To The East,” wherein the narrator believes the Journey has ceased, until years later he finds out it has been ongoing, and that it was he who had left the Journey. Long way of saying that I lost interest in Phil Ochs, and thanks for pointing that out.

 

As for the other thing, you let me say that he was a “significant part of youth culture,” but I was amazed at how many of my friends and contemporaries that I’ve heard from had never heard of him. Maybe I was at a mid-sized university (I flunked out when I joined a jug band. Don[t get me started.), where we all knew and knew of Phil, and everywhere I went, like other colleges, the Village, rallies and parties, were people who knew Phil, so maybe not as much influence nationwide. But where he was known, he was KNOWN, but I was also gratified to hear from you guys who missed the protest years and found him nonetheless. I liked seeing that. And now, two more things.

 

I saw Phil one night at (I can’t remember which dive), and I so loved his opening act, Eric Andersen, and I liked him so much that I stayed for the late show, and as long as I was there for Andersen again, I’d stay for Ochs, and after his set, some unknown-to-me guy named Flip Wilson came on to try out some material and he was freakin’ hilarious. “Ray Charles! Ray Charles!” Honest-to-God I can still hear it. On the other hand, I couldn’t tell you what I had for lunch yesterday.

 

The last thing is that I’d give TEN DOLLARS to learn who booked the Doors as an opening act for Phil Ochs! And another ten to learn why. Thanks, cycleman, nice to meetcha.