<<<Back to page 1

Conviction and Redemption

I assume Russell knew from his conversation with Blackwell that Little Willie John had been convicted of killing a man. I don’t know if he knew that many believed John had himself been murdered. (See more about this in the Coda.) Little Willie John, though, is not the central character. His role is to help give Blue Wing his song. “Blue Wing” diverges from the real Little Willie John story. Our hero leaves Walla Walla three years before the real John entered it. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether that’s solely a result of Russell’s poetic license, or an unreliable bit of storytelling by Blue Wing.

More importantly, John’s convict status augments the dynamics of judgment and redemption in “Blue Wing.” These themes form the emotional core of many of the murder ballads we discuss here. It’s why “Blue Wing” bears a family resemblance to those songs. John’s presence also gives the song a touch of realism. Perhaps we’ve met Blue Wing somewhere along his travels.

Russell writes, “This song saved my life one afternoon in Edmonton Maximum Security Prison when the show wasn’t going over very well. ‘Blue Wing’ warmed up the boys and I was able to make it out alive.” Ex-convicts have told him how much they appreciate the song. Johnny Cash also complimented Russell on it, and apparently recorded an as-yet-unreleased version. Johnny Cash’s approval goes a long way toward establishing the song’s bona fides with us. You can imagine it fitting in very well on Cash’s American IV recording. Broken-ness. Resilience. Redemption.

“Songs Travel”

“Mesabi,” original artwork by Tom Russell
(used by permission)

Russell writes that “the color, detail, and emotional elements of this story were influenced by my early days in the bars of Vancouver, B.C.” Russell honed his craft as a songwriter and performer in the mid-70s. He wrote “Blue Wing” later, but he says that Native American characters figured prominently in his songs in those early days “because I was working in skid row bars frequented by North Coast Indians, and I witnessed a lion’s share of poverty, drunken agony, drug dealings, and violent crime.”

Russell’s song migrates evocatively along North America’s western coast with Blue Wing. It alludes to an early freedom of First Nations peoples while depicting the imagined escape above the clouds of this down-and-out (ex-)con. We move with him through at least three kinds of confinement–a prison, a cheap hotel room, and a coffin. You may find that alcohol formed a fourth kind of cell. Through the tattoo and the chorus, these “cells” become the least important things about him.

Blue Wing’s tattoo serves as a vehicle for liberty, real or desired, escaping the various confinements of life and death. When Russell wrote the song, tattoos were less culturally mainstream than now. Their association with prison was stronger. Blue Wing’s ink presents an emblem of both his incarceration and his resistance to it—his corporeality and his freedom.

Prisons

I interrupted drafting this post to go with my son to see Rogue One. At one point in the movie, two of the main characters are in a cell together. One says to the other, “There is more than one sort of prison, Captain. I sense that you carry yours wherever you go.” This is not an original sentiment. A Dr. Who character said something similar in an early series. Albert Camus says in The Rebel, “We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes and our ravages.” You can make the “Hotel California” connection yourself.

uncredited image (source: pinterest)

I write these posts in a small office at the back of my house. The office has a window, although it’s usually covered by a curtain. I sit at my computer and try to write my way to (self-)discovery, while simultaneously warding off compulsive email and social media surfing or various time-sucking computer games. I don’t have anywhere near the hard life of the characters in these songs. The song stays available to me, and I expect other listeners who are also not ex-convicts or meaningfully poor, in part because we all have “cells”; some of them of our own making. Whether these various confinements are real or not, whether they are merited or worth enduring, the song calls attention to the tensions between where we are and where we aspire to be.

Getting a tattoo as reminder of hope and freedom in the face of fate starts to feel like a good idea.

Covers

Dave Alvin’s performance on King of California first introduced me to “Blue Wing.” I confess, though, I had forgotten about it. Other great tracks on that album stayed with me, including the title track and the duets with Syd Straw and Rosie Flores. Alvin credits Russell’s “Blue Wing” with “helping me find my soul again.”

Listen on Spotify here. You can listen to a duet performance with Russell and Alvin here.

Tracy Grammer’s performance made the song come alive for me. Both Alvin’s and Grammer’s versions are strong, but Grammer’s range made good on the song’s promise for me. Her chorus soars to a place that Alvin doesn’t go. Alvin’s voice sounds like he’s done time, so it may work better for you. Russell himself says he appreciates Alvin’s Woody Guthrie-like delivery. Grammer’s version opened the song for me to play and sing, provided I pick the right key (F, by the way). Topping out my non-falsetto range feels right in those two places in the chorus: “I can’t see the sky,” and “beyond these walls.” Russell’s songbook puts the song in C (G capo 5).

Continue to page 3>>>