Si KahnWe’re Still Here

Si KahnWe’re Still Here

We’re Still Here is a tribute tothe persistence and resistance

of working people everywhere.

Flying overhead is the spirit of thegreat labor radical Mother Jones,born Mary Harris in County Cork,Ireland about 1836.

The Road To Wigan Pier by George Orwellexposed working and living conditions in Englishmining villages in the 1930s. “Colliery” is BritishEnglish for coal mine. The cable that lowers theminers’ cage down into the shaft is powered by the“colliery wheel.” “Davey Lamps” are early miners’safety lamps. Coxey’s Army of unemployed workers,having marched to Washington, DC from aroundthe country, gathered on Capitol Hill on MayDay, 1894 to demand public works jobs.

In 1947, after Pete Seeger had finished a concertfor the International Workers’ Order near Pittsburgh,Andrew Kovaly sang him He Lies in the AmericanLand, which he had written in Slovak. Seeger createdthe English version. The Hebrew of the last verse,which I added, comes from the opening of theKaddish, the Jewish prayer which among otheruses is chanted to remember and honor the dead.

To measure the success of a folksongwriter, the usual pop yardsticks

are useless, like using a level to measurea river. Count Si Kahn’s career inGrammies, Billboard bullets, MTVvideos, or wardrobe malfunctions, andyou miss him entirely.

But by the unique, timeless, grassrootsymeasures with which great folk songshave always been judged, it can beargued that he is the most successfulfolk songwriter of his generation. Thisis all the more remarkable, given that heis also among the most unrepentantlyradical political songwriters of his age.

His songs have been recorded by over100 artists, including some of the mostrespected voices in folk music today:June Tabor and the Oyster Band, Robinand Linda Williams, Dick Gaughan,John McCutcheon, Laurie Lewis, Irishsinging legend Dolores Keane, andCeltic groups Planxty, the Fureys, andPatrick Street.

But the real impact his songs havehad since he started writing themaround 1970 is impossible to estimate,because they have had such vibrantlives beyond his or the music industry’sview. His best songs, such as Aragon

Hard Times (E=D/2)

It’s hard times in WashingtonHard times in TennesseeHard times for everyoneHard times for you and meIt’s hard times in the public placesHard times in the factoriesHard times on the corporate farmsHard times on the company seas

Hard timesIt’s hard times

It’s hard to watch it all go downDrowning like the setting sunHard to watch our freedoms takenHard to lose what we had wonIt’s hard to watch the towers tumbleHard to watch the struggling townHard to watch the bastards smileWhile they tear the Constitution down

Hard timesIt’s hard times

But it’s hardly time to take a seatHardly time to lose your voiceHardly fair to just complainAs if we never had a choiceFor we are born to work and chooseWe are born to rip and mendWe are born to win and loseWe are born to lose…and win

Hard timesIt’s hard timesHard timesIt’s our time

Traveler (C=D tuned down two steps)for Elizabeth Kamarck Minnich

The flowers on the mountainsideHave spread their purple stainThe wind comes from the borderlandsAnd brings the evening rainOh traveler won’t you rest a whileLay down lay down your loadThe longer that the journey takesThe further down the road

Come rest yourself by springs that lieAmong the trees and fernsFor sure the road is hard to climbWith bends and twists and turnsWhat dangers lie beyond the hillsThere’s none of us may knowThe longer that the journey takesThe further down the road

But you have given the finest giftThat traveler ever foundTo see the road you’re traveling onAnd know where you are boundCome meet me at the turning placeTogether we will goThe longer that the journey takesThe further down the road

The Flume (E=D/2)

Momma rememberedWhen she was youngHow her Daddy’d get up‘Fore the rising sun

Mill, Gone, Gonna Rise Again, and WildRose of the Mountain, have been sungin Dutch and Welsh and Swedish, con-verted to suit local circumstances to suchan extent that they are now believed tobe part of local traditional repertoires.

The far vistas of his work’s reach canbe glimpsed in echoes that come backfrom places his songs have traveled.Such a prolific populist songwritermight be expected to have earnedsome of the plaudits Kahn has, fromPete Seeger, Sing Out! magazine, theNew York Times, Boston Globe, andWashington Post. But when your presskit also includes praise from JesseJackson, Studs Terkel, Nat Hentoff,and the late senator Paul Wellstone,there’s something else going on.

Folk songs are prized today, as theyalways have been, for their authenticity.But that does not just mean adherenceto traditional styles of playing andsinging. In the busy fields of the con-temporary songwriter, a new meaningof authentic has emerged. Is the songtrue to the lives it depicts; does it comepure and unfiltered from real people’sexperience? In short, is it honest?

Up in the wagonOff he’d goChasing the sunriseDown that water road

Lord, Lord, down the roadLord, Lord, down the roadLord, Lord, down the roadLord, Lord, down the road

Up Reddies RiverThere’s trees so tallNo company on earthCould ever cut ‘em allStraight heart poplarBy the wagon loadTo float down to townOn that water road

Long about midnightThe sun gone downThey’d load up the flumeFor the run to townStep on a boardGrab a steady holdRiding on homeDown that water road

The sawmills, the axesThe oxen teamsIron boilers building upA head of steamWagons and driversWho’d have ever knownThey would all wash awayDown that water road

Mother Jones’ Farewell to Ireland (Bb=G/3)

My mother’s life led from the house to the churchTo pray and to raise up a familyBut here in this country I worked on my ownFor I had left Ireland behind meYes, I had left Ireland behind me

One night after work at the union hall danceI noticed a man from the foundryA fiery young rebel no priest would approveBut I had left Ireland behind meYes, I had left Ireland behind me

He turned in his seatAnd he gave me a glanceSaying, “Sure, Mary HarrisYou’ll give us a dance”I looked at him onceAnd I never looked backAs we waltzed away down the river

Through that long night I never once thoughtOf the mother who raised me so gentlyFor the heat of the foundry burned deep in his eyesAnd I had left Ireland behind meYes, I had left Ireland behind me

We’re Still Here (E=D/2)

Evening hangs like smokeOn this mill town that I loveMy thoughts they roll and tumbleThrough the yearsMy heart drifts through the hazeBack to Youngstown’s better daysThe mills have gone awayBut we’re still here

We’re still hereWe’re still hereThe mills have gone awayBut we’re still hereWith our neighbors and our kinRight here where we’ve always beenThe mills have gone awayBut we’re still here

Looking down the streetTo the days when I was youngI can see my friends and neighborsStrong and clearPeople came from far awayLived their lives from day to dayThrough the good times and the hard timesWe’re still here

Dreaming down the days‘Til time circles homeWhen our children faceThe future’s hope and fearNothing went the way it shouldBut we did the best we couldWhen the whistle blows for courageWe’re still here

Silk and Satin (F=G tuned down two steps)

No school this morningThe whistle’s blowingChildren by two’s and three’sTumble down the hillOut of their childhoodInto the world for goodOut of the schoolyardInto the mill

Silk and satinNo time for dreamingThe dawn is breakingThe 12-hour shift starts soonRibbon and laceGo take your placeWithin the shadows of this spinning room

Dressed in her mother’s shirtToo small to reach her workWorn as the wooden boxOn which she standsTorn from her books and gamesShe stares at her spinning frameThe threads of childish laughterBreak in her hands

Seasons don’t shift in hereSmog doesn’t lift in hereSnow doesn’t drift in hereWhen the nights turn coldWind doesn’t blow in hereRivers don’t flow in hereChildren don’t grow in hereThey just get old

Kahn has never worked as a full timemusician. His songs are so crediblebecause he knows and works with thevery people who people his songs.

He has worked as a grassroots organizerin the South since the 1960s. Since1980, he has been executive director ofGrassroots Leadership, a multiracialteam of activists who do civil rights,labor, and community organizing.

“I have the working life of an organizer,”he says. “I spend my life with people,in meetings, developing strategy, andtrying to figure out how to make thatstrategy move. What do organizers do?We listen to people, we ask questions, wetalk with people; those are the requisiteskills. And they’re also the requisite skillsof a songwriter.”

The visceral realism that makes Kahn’spolitical songs so convincing is every-where on this CD. He never knewlabor legend Mother Jones, of course,but he knows the bittersweet heartof the lifelong activist, the minglingmemories of victory and loss, of movingpeople’s lives forward but never seeingeven the horizon of struggle’s end.

The Gap ($8,825 an Hour) (D)

Here I am spending my lifeDown among the kielbasaMaking your lunch meatHot spicy sausage and dogsYou can count what I makeThat’s the reason they call it productionSo how come it’s youThat’s living so high on the hog

Sometimes I wonderWhat CEOs do in an hourWhen I see your pictureYou’re talking away on the phoneShaking some hand Or jetting away to a meetingYou’re sure not down hereOn the floor with the gristle and bone

You make eight thousand eight hundredTwenty five dollars an hourSeventy thousand and six hundred dollars a dayThat’s more than ten million a yearI just can’t see it from hereWhat let’s you deserve to beMaking a killing this way

Sometimes I dreamI’m sitting up there in your officeYou’re working here on the floorFor the rest of your lifeIt’s real work down hereBut I know in my heart you can do itThe way you cut jobsYou’ve got to be good with a knife

You cut 500 jobsAnd you say that you’re being a leaderMe and my friends on the floorThink it’s old-fashioned greedWe can do the right thingAnd hire them all back tomorrowIf we get cut back on youWe’ll have all the payroll we need

We Roll the Steel (D)

From the fields of LithuaniaTo the high Italian hillsWe have sailed across the rolling seaTo work these rolling millsWe have left our farms and villagesOur cities and our townsTo roll the steelThat makes the world roll ‘round

We hold a hundred historiesWe speak a dozen tonguesIn our hearts the friends we left behindHave stayed forever youngWe are children men and womenWe are black and white and brownWe roll the steelThat makes the world roll ‘round

We have dreamed about the slavery shipsThat anchored by the shoreCome to steal our souls from AfricaFor the mills of BaltimoreStrangers in a distant fieldOur feet on foreign groundWe roll the steelThat makes the world roll ‘round

So he takes heart from the struggleitself. In a wise, mature love song to his partner, feminist philosopherElizabeth Kamarck Minnich, he singsof their shared activism: “The longerthat the journey takes/ The further downthe road.”

As an organizer, he also knows howmuch more powerful a tool hope isthan anger. He laments our country’sgrowing economic inequality inHard Times, but his anger morphsinto something else as the recurringphrase “hard times” suddenly becomesthe more active “hardly time:” “But it’shardly time to take a seat/ Hardly timeto lose your voice.”

“When I am painting a world I’d liketo see,” Kahn says, “it’s rooted in theworld we have. When you organize,you learn not to offer anything topeople that they think is out of reach.That’s why I want my heroes to behuman, to be accessible. I want themto be people about whom other peoplesay, ‘Actually, I could do that.’”

Another way Kahn wears the mantleof a classic folk songwriter is how hechronicles the lives and times of thosewho came before him. He says, just as

From Fridays at O’Connor’s BarTo the fights at Finnish HallWe have struggled for this unionAll for one and one for allLike a bridge that’s made of steelNo storm should tear it downWe roll the steelThat makes the world roll ‘round

Cam Ranh Bay (F=G tuned down two steps)

Walking through the grassNight too dark to travelRifle in my handsFollowing the track17 years oldScared to death of dyingBut there ain’t, but there ain’t No turning back

Going down the roadRoad too dark to travelDown that road againNo matter what they sayGoing down that roadStraight into the darknessGoing back, going backTo Cam Ranh Bay

Sergeant back at BraggClapped us on the shoulder“You’re leaving here as boysComing home men”Body made it backSoul got left behind meShe won’t come, she won’t comeTo me again

Friends all say my sonLooks just like his fatherRifle in his handsSwelled up with prideSay he’ll be like meToo lucky to get woundedBut the wounds, but the woundsAre all inside

Lying in the grassNight too dark to travelSky lights upIt’s the 4th of JulyLying on my back Listening to the rocketsI break down, I break downAnd start to cry

Wigan Pier (G)

The mines are closed in the northwest countryTime like the colliery wheel stands stillChildren at play where the work once called usThe work is gone but we’re still hereLiving on the road to Wigan Pier

Memory settles like early eveningLight like the Davey Lamps all gone downColliery theme parks and miners’ statuesAre all the proof that we were hereLiving on the road to Wigan Pier

Who will stand and who rememberWho still hears that whistle blowWho will wait beside the windowFor the black-faced minerComing down the road

Time marches on just like Coxey’s ArmyWere those the bad or the good old days?We live in fear of the dream that failed usThe dream is done but we’re still hereLiving on the road to Wigan Pier

Woody Guthrie did, that he regardshimself as a journalist and historianas much as musician.

He wrote The Flume from a news-paper article about a 1915 flood, usingkey words in the story to give the ballada local authenticity. He was asked bythe deputy sheriff where the floodhappened if he would sing it at anemployee appreciation day. That’swhat a real folk Grammy looks like.

“My songs are a history of a time, a place,a set of struggles, perceptions, ideas,” hesays. “I think you could take my body ofwork, and within it find something ofa documentary of the South over the last100 years: a chronicle of an extended butvery real community.”

Nowhere is his rare meld of realismand humanism more on display thanin the way he writes about the ravagesof war, in which everyone is a casualty.Without commenting on the rightnessor wrongness of the wars, he offers ahard-eyed confessional about a Vietnamveteran anguishing over what he knowshis young son will experience goingoff to his own war in Iraq. Its refusalto moralize makes the song evenmore powerful.

The Hunters (E=D/2)

When the fields of November turn yellow and goldAnd the mountain lakes shine in the sunFond memories return with the change of the yearOnce again we’re in love – with our gunsYes, the great white American hunters are backWith their rifles all red white and blueThey’ve been shooting each other for many long yearsBut this year they’ll be shooting at you

Oh Senator Joe tell us where did you goTake us back to the days of real menWith their hand guns in handOut stalking the landThey’re going witch hunting again

Just like wolves on the prowl they travel in packsIn their camouflage Brooks Brothers suitsIf it walks like a duck and talks like a duckIt’s probably legal to shootI used to go rambling all painted in redSo I wouldn’t get shot for a deerBut if you go wandering out in the woodsYou’re safer in pin stripes this year

A Time for Us All (G/5) for Stewart Acuff and Mary Denham on their wedding

There’s snow in the mountainsWinter’s coming hardBut there’s supper on the table And dogs in the yardThe season is keepingIts reason and rhymeIt’s all in the timingAnd all in the time

I am ready, I am readyThere’s a time for us allI am ready, I am readyThere’s a time for us all

You can shout out for justiceStand all aloneBut the power is greatestWhen you stand with your ownFor there’s strength to sustain usIn all that we doWhen we raise our expectationsTo the power of two

You can work every issueTake every standBut morning is brighterWhen you live hand in handYou can make every meetingSpeak every partBut evening is sweeterWhen you walk heart to heart

So read through the contractSign on the lineFor this is the seasonAnd now is the timeTo join in this unionThough the numbers are smallWhen love’s on the tableIt’s the finest of all

Rabbit Jim (Eb=C/3)

In the Pennsylvania mountains, near the CentreCounty line

Was the place where I grew up to be a manOf all the friends I knew the one I remember bestWas the strangest man that’s ever been my friendHe lived by himself in a shack on the edge of townAnd the “good folks” turned their noses up at himBut he could outrun any hound dog in those

Pennsylvania hillsI guess that’s why we called him Rabbit Jim

Poppa said, “He ain’t your kind of people”But I knew that he was gentle and so kindDo you still race the hounds along the mountainRabbit Jim, you good old friend of mine

He wasn’t educated, never been to schoolI guess he couldn’t even sign his nameBut he could read the woods the way you’d read

the county newsOr sniff the wind and smell the coming rainHe taught me everything that he’d learned so long agoWhen he was young and traveling far and wideHe never had no money, never had a jobJust did the things that kept him satisfied

It’s 40 years ago since I crossed that county lineLooking for a place to call my ownBut when the wind is cold and blowing from the northI think of all the good friends I have knownSome folks go to college, some folks go to warSome folks don’t go any place but homeRabbit Jim just kept walking the trails along the ridge‘Til time had turned his footsteps into stone

He Lies in the American Land (Andrew Kovaly/Pete Seeger)

Ah, my God! What is this land of America?So many people traveling thereI will go too, for I am still youngGod, the Lord will grant me good luck there

You, my wife, stay here ‘til you hear from meWhen you get my letter, put everything in orderMount a raven-black steed, a horse like the windFly across the ocean to join me here

Ah, but when she arrived in this strange landHere in McKeesport, this valley of fireOnly his grave, his blood, his blood did she findOver it bitterly she cried

Ah, ah, ah, my husband, what have you done to this family of yours?

What can you say to these children, thesechildren you’ve orphaned?

Tell them, my wife, not to wait, not to wait, not to wait for me

Tell them I lie here, in the American land

Another classic measure for folk songsis how well they travel, not just on CDsbut on people’s lips and in their lives.By this measure, it is hard to think ofa modern folk songwriter who canmatch Kahn. People who have neverheard the name Si Kahn not onlysing his songs, but feel that they ownthem as much as they own their ownfamily history.

As Kahn puts it with a chuckle, “I guessthe highest compliment for any folk song-writer is when you have to get yourpublishing company to tell people yoursongs are not in the public domain.”

He got a call once from a young blue-grass musician asking nervously if hehad ever written a song called Weaveand Spin. When Kahn said he wasprobably referring to Aragon Mill,the young bluegrasser glumly confessedhis band had learned the song at afestival picking party and recorded it,believing it to be traditional. Was hegoing to sue them? No, said Si, buthe sure would love to hear it, and seehis name on the next pressing. He’s usedto this, and takes it as the complimentit really is.

Momma Was a Union Woman (Bb=G/3)

Wake up, Sally, don’t you sleep so lateDon’t you sleep so longDaddy just went off to workMomma soon be homeDon’t you see that old sun shiningClimbing up the hillCan’t you hear that whistle whiningHome from the mill

Momma was a union womanTried to raise us rightMomma was a union womanHoot owl shift each nightMomma was a union womanTwo hard working handsShe raised up a union womanAnd a union man

Do you remember hard times, SallyJust before the warSeemed the world was out on strikeIn 1934Momma on the back of a pickup truckShouting to the crowdWhere’d that woman get the strengthWish I had it now

Sally, what would Momma doIf she was here todayBy God I know she’d never standTo see us done this wayThe way she taught us how to fightI never will forgetShe’s with us on this picket lineWalking with us yet

The Whiskey Ring and the Railroad Trust (E minor)

If living was a thing that money could buyThe rich would live and the poor would dieAshes to ashes and dust to dustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trustLet the rich man live and the poor man bustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trust

Are you loyal to the ConstitutionAre you looking for a contributionHere’s a little present from the boys in the backFrom the river of whiskey and the solid gold track

Let’s have a hand for the railroad trackLet’s have a hand for the boys in backAshes to ashes and dust to dustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trustLet the rich man live and the poor man bustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trust

Are you praying for the ResurrectionAre you running in the next electionHere’s a little something you can use as you chooseFrom the solid gold engine and the river of booze

Hand on your shoulder means a man you can trustHand in your pocket means the railroad trustAshes to ashes and dust to dustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trustLet the rich man live and the poor man bustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trust

Are you of a pure and lofty natureDo you make a bundle from the legislatureHere’s some provisions for the campaign trailFrom the bottles of bourbon and the silvery rail

Because the ways his songs travel strikeat the most crucial measure for any folksong: Is it of any use to people?

“The moments that mean the most to me,”he says, “are when somebody says they sangmy songs when they got married, burieda grandparent, welcomed the birth of achild, or marked some other importanttransition. That’s how I want to be usedas a songwriter.”

“Part of how I, as an organizer, show upin the songs is that I want people to singthem together. I study traditional folkstructure for that, the simplicity of thewords, the repetition, the predictabilityof melody, choruses that are accessibleto everybody.”

A few years ago, Kahn, who is now60, began to archive and catalog hislifetime of songs. As a result, he seesthem now more as a cogent body ofwork than a piecemeal repertoire.

“Through all my songs,” he says, “I seean almost ferocious belief that almosteverybody can do something that makesa difference. And I do think I’ve main-tained my beliefs.”

His voice slows as he says this, knowingwhat a big thing it is for a lifelong

Pickles and glue and any only thingLet’s have a hand for the whiskey ringAshes to ashes and dust to dustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trustLet the rich man live and the poor man bustWith the arms trade ring and the oil trustLet the rich man live and the poor man bustWith the whiskey ring and the railroad trust

Note: Lines in italics are taken from traditional songs

When the War Is Done (G)

So many times in historyWe’ve watched them march awaySome cry out for victorySome just stand and prayFor this father’s daughterFor this mother’s sonWhat will happen to the rest of usWhen the war is done

What will happen to the rest of usWhen the war is overWhat will happen to the rest of usWhen the war is done

Some are quick to honorSome are quick to blameFew can face the truthThat this all happens in our nameBefore the first shot’s firedOur battle has begunWhat will happen to the rest of usWhen the war is done

Those who fight the battlesAre not those who make the lawsBut bravery is still braveryEven in an unjust causeFrom the hand that signs the order

To the hand that fires the gunWhat will happen to the rest of usWhen the war is done

Some lie solitaryBeneath a hero’s stoneSome return to loved onesBut will always be aloneSomething sacred will be lostEven when the war is wonWhat will happen to the rest of usWhen the war is done

La Libertad (F=D/3)

Para la libertad estamos marchandoPara la libertad, la libertadPara la libertad estamos marchandoPara la libertad, la libertad

Viva, viva, viva la huelgaViva la huelga y la libertadViva, viva, viva la huelgaViva la huelga y la libertad

Para la libertad estamos luchandoPara la libertad, la libertadPara la libertad estamos luchandoPara la libertad, la libertad

Para la libertad estamos esperandoPara la libertad, la libertadPara la libertad estamos esperandoPara la libertad, la libertad

Para la libertad estamos cantandoPara la libertad, la libertadPara la libertad estamos cantandoPara la libertad, la libertad

Para la libertad estamos marchandoEstamos luchandoEstamos esperandoEstamos cantando....

Viva, viva, viva la huelgaViva la huelga y la libertadViva, viva, viva la huelgaViva la huelga y la libertad

Translation: We are marching, fighting, hoping, singingfor freedom. Long live the strike, long live freedom.

Mother Jones’ Farewell (I Was There) (G)

I have been a radicalFor fifty years and moreStood against the rich and greedyFor the workers and the poorFrom Canada to MexicoI traveled everywhereWherever trouble called meI was there

Like stitches in a crazy quiltThat women piece and sewWherever there was sufferingI was bound to goWith angry words for cowardiceComfort for despairWhenever help was neededI was there

I was there in the depressionsWhen times were at their worstBut we had them where we wantedLike a dam about to burst

With fire in our belliesRevolution in the airFor a moment we saw clearlyI was there

There were times I saw the issuesIn quite a different lightAnd old friends turned against meBut I never left the fightWhen stones were in my passwayAnd the road was far from clearWhether I chose right or wronglyI was there

On a day when hope goes hungryAnd your dreams seem bound to fallYou may see me at the millOr just outside the union hallWhen the clouds are empty promisesThe sky a dark despairLike an eagle from the mountainI’ll be there

And you, my brave young comradesWhen the future sounds the callWill you be there for the battleWill you answer, one and allWhen the roll is called up yonderWhen the roll’s called anywhereWill you stand and answer proudlyWe’re still hereCan you stand and answer proudlyI was there

activist to say. Could it be true? Couldhe have seen the fights he’s seen – thehorrible losses and fleeting victories, thetrampling of humble lives asking onlyfor the most basic social decencies – andstill have maintained his core beliefin justice and democracy?

Can anyone have spent as much timein the sour underbelly of democracyas Kahn has, and still love it as sweetlyas his songs do? The wonderful answeris yes, because he has come to seehumankind’s long march upwards inthe same long and honest way thegreat folk songs do.

“Activism is a way of life for me, and it’sbeen a very good way of life,” he says.“I am interested in ordinary acts ofcourage and resistance. I believe thatto the extent we make activism seemextraordinary and heroic, we discouragerather than encourage people. I believewith all my heart that the world ischanged by millions of daily acts ofresistance, things that anyone is capableof doing. You don’t have to absent yourselffrom society to live a life for justice. Youcan have fun, make music, have relation-ships, have a family, live a good life.”

Si Kahn: guitar and lead vocalsLiz Meyer: harmony vocalsJoost van Es: fiddleScott Ainslie:National resophonic guitar on Cam Ranh Bay and When the War is Done,

second guitar on Hard Times

Produced by: Jesse M. Kahn and Pieter Groenveld

This album was recorded live in Holland at the SCR Studios in Rijsenhout, on February 13,2004; at the Van Bommel Hoeve in Vlagtwedde, on February 15, 2004; and at Het OudeRaadhuis in Hoofddorp, on February 17, 2004.

Recorded by: SCR Productions, Hoofddorp, HollandRecording engineer: Pieter Groenveld

Mastered by: Mirasound, Amersfoort, HollandMastering engineer: Jelke Haisma

Hard Times, Cam Ranh Bay and When the War Is Done recorded and mixed by Chris Garges,Jay Howard Studios, Charlotte, North Carolina, on January 11-12, 2003. Harmony vocalsrecorded by SCR Productions, Hoofddorp, Holland.

Design & photography by: Jesse M. Kahn, jessekahncreative.com

Special thanks to: Jesse M. Kahn, David Fernandes, Elizabeth Kamarck Minnich, Pieter Groenveld,Liz Groenveld, Liz Meyer, Joost van Es, Scott Ainslie, Rienk Janssen, Ineke Baarslag, Bert andMarjan van Strien, Chris Garges, Josh Dunson, Scott Alarik, Dave Beckwith, Stephan Nathan,Alex Nathan, Carol Greenwald, and Dore Krauss.

Perhaps he can seem so sanguinebecause his songs, like his organizing,have always lifted the lives of the peoplefor whom he meant them. And he’sknown that for a very long time.Over 30 years ago, they earned himthe supreme folk kudo, the measureof all measures, when he watched anold, working-class couple listen tohis first album.

Halfway through it, the old factoryworker turned to his wife. In a voicechoked with emotion, eyes wellingwith tears, he whispered, “It’s aboutpeople like us.” He said it as if such athing were not possible – who werethey to have their lives rememberedin song? And yet there was the proof,there were Si Kahn’s songs.

“I never forgot that,” Kahn says quietly.“I have tried to honor people and theirlives in my songs. I don’t even thinkmy satires are mean. But certainly interms of the dispossessed - by which Imean the 90 percent of us who have togo to work every day, or wish that wecould - I have tried to honor them ineverything I’ve written.”

Scott AlarikCambridge, MA2004

Also available on Strictly Country Records:

Si Kahn In My Heart - Live in Holland SCR-33

Gone Gonna Rise AgainAragon MillMississippi SummerFarewell to IrelandGentle With Me DarlingWhat You Do With What You’ve GotLast Good WarThe SenatorBrookside StrikeLuray WomenChildren of PolandWhat Will I LeaveCold Frosty MorningWild Rose of the MountainRock Me, Roll MeMolly in the MillCurtains of Old Joe’s HousePeople Like YouCrossing the BorderWelcome to the WorldDetroit DecemberIf I LiveLady of the HarborIn My Heart

Music and lyrics by Si Kahn, except He Lies in the American Land: Original Slovak words andmusic by Andrew Kovaly (early 20th century), transcribed by Jacob Evanson. English lyricsby Pete Seeger (1951).

All songs copyright and published by Joe Hill Music (ASCAP), except He Lies in the AmericanLand copyright 1983, 1993 by Fall River Music, Inc.

Si Kahn’s songs and Joe Hill Music are administered by: MCS America, Inc.1625 Broadway, 4th FloorNashville, Tennessee 37203615-250-4600 (phone)615-256-4699 (fax)info@mcsamerica.net (email)www.mcsonline.comPersons wishing to record or otherwise use any of these songs should contact MCS America for licenses.

Si Kahn is a member of AFM Local 1000, the North American Traveling Musicians Union;a lifetime member of the International Bluegrass Music Association (IBMA); and a lifetimemember of the Folk Alliance.

Si Kahn’s music for adults and children is available at www.sikahn.com

International representation and booking: Josh DunsonReal Peoples Music520 South ClintonOak Park, Illinois 60304 708-386-1252 (phone)rpmjosh@aol.com (email)

European booking: Christine WadeADASTRA2 Star RowNorth DaltonEast Yorkshire YO259UR, England44-1377-217662 (phone)44-1377-217754 (fax)adastra@adastey.demon.co.uk (email)

Si Kahn We’re Still Here1. Hard Times ................................................................2:312. Traveler ......................................................................2:463. The Flume (Down the Road)....................................3:294. Mother Jones’ Farewell To Ireland ..........................2:435. We’re Still Here ........................................................3:066. Silk and Satin ............................................................3:1 17. The Gap ($8,825 An Hour) ....................................3:108. We Roll the Steel ......................................................2:489. Cam Ranh Bay ..........................................................2:59

10. Wigan Pier ................................................................3:0411. The Hunters ..............................................................2:0012. A Time For Us All......................................................3:3213. Rabbit Jim ..................................................................3:3214. He Lies in the American Land ................................2:3915. When the War Is Done ............................................2:2316. Momma Was A Union Woman ..............................2:4617. The Whiskey Ring and the Railroad Trust ............2:0018. La Libertad ................................................................3:0919. Mother Jones’ Farewell (I Was There) ..................2:31

Produced by Jesse M. Kahn and Pieter Groenveld© + 2004 Strictly Country Music. SCR-57P