Afternoon folks!

This week (surprise) there's more great stuff to listen to. There's a live Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown album, a collection of Leroy Carr recordings and a Neville Brothers live album. I found a long-lost album with Charlie Musselwhite, Harvey Mandel and Barry Goldberg lurking in my basement, cleaned it up and it sounds pretty decent now, perhaps a little of its period, but cool nonetheless. There's a collection of Gram Parsons and Flying Burrito Brothers recordings and an EP of Gram Parsons and the Fallen Angels a Rosanne Cash album and another moldy oldie album from the basement by the Five Man Electrical Band - I think it's their debut album. Finally, there's a part of a Dr. Feelgood live album that I will upload the remaining tunes from on Sunday sometime.

Enjoy the splendiferous bounty of my basement!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday December 31, 1915
From the Archives of the Industrial Worker: The "Life" of the Migratory Timber Worker

As the Industrial Workers of the World begins a campaign to organize the timber workers of Northern Minnesota, Hellraisers offers this account of the life of a migratory timber worker from an anonymous logger, originally published in the Industrial Worker of July 2, 1910. The conditions under which the "timber beasts" live and work have not improved much, if at all.

WHO SAID A LOGGER LIVES?

The question has often been asked: "What constitutes living?" If it is the mere fact that we have life in our bodies and are plodding along in search of a job with our blankets on our back, then we are all living.

If "living" means to have all the good things of life, all the comforts of a home, and a life guarantee that such comforts shall continue as long as we are willing to do our share of the work, then we are not living, but simply saving funeral expenses.

It is estimated that there are 50,000 loggers along the Pacific coast, and it is a conservative statement to make that not one percent of them can say that their home consists of anything better than a dirty bunk furnished by the boss and a roll of blankets that they are compelled to tote about from pillar to post, many times only to make room for another toiler who has left $2 for the job in the tender care of the fat Employment Hog, who will divvy up with the foreman or superintendent. This is incentive enough to soon discharge him, so that a new recruit can be divorced from his $2, and so this endless chain of men tramping to and from the employment shark and the job.