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| These shows sounded like a blast... |
The Hit
I’d heard “The City of New Orleans” before last week - but, of course, everyone has - only I never knew it was Arlo Guthrie singing it. As it happens, he did and he didn’t (then again, so did Bob Denver (hold that thought), The Highwaymen, Judy Collins, and Willie Nelson solo).
A young folk singer Guthrie knew named Steve Goodman actually wrote it. Goodman was a friend of Guthrie’s - and, as he noted in Part 2 of an interview* with American Songwriter, one he esteemed highly - a good guitar player and “an awesome picker” to boot. (* here are links to Part 1 and Part 3 of that interview; again, you’ll learn more about Arlo Guthrie by reading those three than you will be reading this, different missions, etc.). By 1972 and given his birth-right, Guthrie had name recognition while Goodman did not, so Guthrie decided to put that to work to boost Goodman. After gushing a little more about Goodman’s character and personality, Guthrie recalls:
“That’s what made me take his demo, and put it on my piano with a lead sheet, and work through it, and it was because I loved Goodman himself.”
The happy, wistful ode to rail travel (highly recommended, btw) in which professional/family histories of rail-workers mingle with the strange, sudden friendliness that just sort of happens when you take the same, ponderous ride with a bunch of people. The time ticks away at a clip that matches coming into and leaving a rail station, steady, patient, and feeling like it’ll never stop, while warm and cozy vocals and instruments beam over it; I caught the trebles in the chorus only later in the week and they’re just gorgeous.
It wasn’t a massive hit for Guthrie - No. 4 on Billboard’s Easy Listening charts, No. 18 on the big Billboard - but it was the only one he ever recorded. And Wikipedia’s history of the song tells a colder version of how it came to Guthrie:
I’d heard “The City of New Orleans” before last week - but, of course, everyone has - only I never knew it was Arlo Guthrie singing it. As it happens, he did and he didn’t (then again, so did Bob Denver (hold that thought), The Highwaymen, Judy Collins, and Willie Nelson solo).
A young folk singer Guthrie knew named Steve Goodman actually wrote it. Goodman was a friend of Guthrie’s - and, as he noted in Part 2 of an interview* with American Songwriter, one he esteemed highly - a good guitar player and “an awesome picker” to boot. (* here are links to Part 1 and Part 3 of that interview; again, you’ll learn more about Arlo Guthrie by reading those three than you will be reading this, different missions, etc.). By 1972 and given his birth-right, Guthrie had name recognition while Goodman did not, so Guthrie decided to put that to work to boost Goodman. After gushing a little more about Goodman’s character and personality, Guthrie recalls:
“That’s what made me take his demo, and put it on my piano with a lead sheet, and work through it, and it was because I loved Goodman himself.”
The happy, wistful ode to rail travel (highly recommended, btw) in which professional/family histories of rail-workers mingle with the strange, sudden friendliness that just sort of happens when you take the same, ponderous ride with a bunch of people. The time ticks away at a clip that matches coming into and leaving a rail station, steady, patient, and feeling like it’ll never stop, while warm and cozy vocals and instruments beam over it; I caught the trebles in the chorus only later in the week and they’re just gorgeous.
It wasn’t a massive hit for Guthrie - No. 4 on Billboard’s Easy Listening charts, No. 18 on the big Billboard - but it was the only one he ever recorded. And Wikipedia’s history of the song tells a colder version of how it came to Guthrie:
