“Streets of Laredo” (Unfortunate Rake, Part Three)
This is the third in a short series of posts on âThe Unfortunate Rake.â Read the previous posts here and here.
âSo brave, young, and handsomeâ
âWhen I got back to Wichita, I met one Zach Potter, a man with whom I had had some difficulty. He was on his way from the range to where he had friends in eastern Kansas. I always tried to make it a rule not to hold enmity toward any man. It was near an ice cream saloon that I met Potter. I addressed him in a friendly manner, and invited him to have some ice cream with me. âAll right,â he said, and while seated at the table we discussed our past trouble, its cause, etc., and ended up shaking hands and parting as friends. I have always been glad that we did so, for not long after I heard of his tragic death. Shot to death over a game of cards.â
âfrom Cowboyâs Lament: A Life on the Open Range by F. H. Maynard
âStreets of Laredoâ is such a classic of American music, and specifically music of the Old West, that itâs a challenge to know where to begin and what âtrailâ to take to tell at least part of its story. Carl Sandburg referred to it as a âcowboy classicâ as early as 1927. It was probably barely 50 years old then. Thirty years later, it was for a young Greil Marcus the first folk song that âcarried the sting of death,â as he listened to a contestant sing it on a TV quiz show. A recent Western Writers of America survey placed it as #4 on a list of the Top 100 Western songs.
âLaredoâ is so familiar that Iâve been curious to understand what it might still have to say, or if it is just an old chestnut. Understanding more about where it started will help us figure that out. What difference do America and âthe Westâ make to the songâs core themes? How does the passing of time figure in changing how the song functions? What does the song in turn say about the West, and how does its story prove influential in the development of later songs and literature about the West?
Almeda Riddle provides a good introduction to get acquainted with the song. She calls her version âTom Shermanâs Barroom.â Iâll explain why below.
âRakeâsâ Western Progress
The American West was fertile ground for murder ballads, many of which have been lost to history. âStreets of Laredoâ has staying power. Its story of a cowboy led astray is a common trope. You can hear its echoes in Marty Robbinsâs classic âEl Paso,â or in âSonoraâs Death Row.â Our dying cowboy is not an outlaw, but heâs âdone wrong.â âStreets of Laredoâ incorporates a call for compassion for our fallen comrade with a pathos akin to âPills of White Mercuryâ (âUnfortunate Rakeâ pt. 1), but without the overt macho swagger of âGamblerâs Bluesâ (pt. 2). It keeps the âframing mechanismâ usually found in the other two, where the narrator is not the protagonist. Like the other two, this song involves bearing witness to a personâs death, and the dying personâs final desire for dignity, despite their failings.
âPills of White Mercuryâ  makes the cause of its âheroâsâ impending death clear. âFlash girlsâ and venereal disease, formerly treated by mercury pills, have done him in. âGamblerâs Bluesâ  is more oblique about the causes of death and impending death. Although Carl Sandburg termed âGamblerâs Bluesâ a âgutter song,â it leaves unseemly matters unstated, and provides a mixture of mystery, romance, and death. âStreets of Laredo,â removes both the taint and the hint of disease, leaving a more straightforward murder ballad. The dying protagonist has done some wild living, but he dies from a bullet to the chest. Folklorist Kenneth S. Goldstein euphemistically termed it âlead poisoning.â
In his liner notes to the Smithsonian Folkways album he curated, Goldstein noted the âlater cowboy adaptationsâ of the âRakeâ were the most numerous of the three strains of the song weâve heard. Goldstein captured a couple versions of the cowboy song for his collection. Weâll hear it under a variety of aliases, from âThe Dying Cowboyâ to âTom Shermanâs Barroomâ to âAs I Roved Outâ to simply âLaredo.â This Western incarnation of the âRakeâ is only about 140 years old, but the âfolk processâ has worked it over pretty well, and continues to do so. âLaredoâ merges the themes of compassion and dignity found the earlier âRakesâ with the wide open imaginative landscape of the American West. The West provided space for art and literature to explore moral and social themes before outer space became the (final) frontier.
Bruce Buckley performs one version on Goldsteinâs collection, also set in Tom Shermanâs Barroom.
Harry Jacksonâs version takes it to Laredo, Texas, which is more familiar to most listeners today.
Lyrics for these versions appear in Goldsteinâs liner notes.
âStreets of Laredoâ is a distinctly American creation, but one that bloomed forth on the plains because of the popularity of some Irish forebears. The first forebear, with regard to theme, was âThe Dying [or Bad] Girlâs Lament,â which was popular among cowboys. We know itâs a descendant because the funeral instructions usually make little sense in the Western context. They are a holdover from the military funerals of earlier âRakes.â The second Irish forebear was âThe Bard of Armagh,â which provided the tune for many versions of the song. Here is Tommy Makemâs performance of âThe Bard of Armaghâ