<<<Back to page 2

MBM: I’ve always been trying to figure out how Frank Proffitt came up with the set of lyrics he uses for “Poor Ellen Smith.”

PS:  In the sleeve to his 1962 Folkways album, as you know, he mentions hearing this version from a bunch of guys who had been working in the coal fields of West Virginia in the early 1920s. That’s kind of an outlier version, with a very harsh condemnation of Ellen’s sexual morality. It’s the only recording using those lyrics I’ve ever heard, other than Crooked Still’s 2008 performance, which I know you’ve covered here. I tried to talk to Crooked Still about these particular lyrics, but in the end they never got back to me.

I’ve seen a lot of the original newspaper reports from the case. One newspaper was talking about Ellen as a girl of bad character right from the moment her body was found – presumably because they knew she’d had a child out of wedlock with Peter DeGraff, the man who went on to kill her. That idea was in the newspaper coverage right from day one, but never made it into the most popular version of the song.

The thing that I think is especially interesting about Proffitt’s lyrics is that they include the line, “It all now is ended with your bed in the snow.” The murder happened in July, and the idea of there being snow in Winston-Salem at that time of year is a fairly bizarre one. I’m thinking they didn’t have all the facts.

MBM: Crooked Still’s performance raises interesting artistic questions about misogyny and the singer’s voice (male or female) in murder ballads.

KatieJane Garside (uncredited photo from Rubythroat Facebook page)

PS: I raised the question of misogyny with a lot of the female singers, but there was no consensus. Rennie Sparks argues that it’s sexist to assume that women wouldn’t have thoughts that are every bit as dark and troubling as men’s. Then, Kristin Hersh, who’s done a solo version of “Pretty Polly,” told me that she had to avoid getting what she calls an “empathy stomachache” by finding ways to distance herself from the lyrics as she sings them. For KatieJane Garside of Queenadreena, it’s an emotionally devastating song.  Polly moves into her skin and seems to possess her as she performs it.

Very often it’s men who worry more about this issue and feel that they need to address it. The reactions I got from female singers spanned the whole spectrum. The other point that Rennie Sparks wanted to make is that “Pretty Polly” is not a real woman, she’s a symbol. These issues don’t play out the same way in the music as they do in real life.

[View Garside’s “moving” performance of “Pretty Polly” on YouTube here.]

MBM: What do you think makes for a successful or authentic rendering of the songs?

PS: One of the things that fascinates me about these songs is that they are both consistent and mutable at the same time. This sounds like a contradiction, but the best murder ballads will be able to pull it off. The core story always remains the same, but the specific names and dates mentioned are changed constantly as the song moves from town to town and age to age. That tradition goes back to the British ballad sheets, where people would tweak the details of an older song to fit a more recent crime or a new location where they’re trying to sell it.

It’s key that the song can remain true to itself and be adaptable. No murder ballad can reach the first rank until it’s been through the folk process for a few decades, if not a century. Only the folk process can really achieve that constant polishing of the song that finally produces its ideal form. That doesn’t mean that a new song can’t be a good one, but you won’t really know how good till it’s been around for a while.

“Hattie Carroll” [YouTube] is a very interesting example of that phenomenon. It’s just entering that folk process now. Dylan isn’t going to be around much longer, and you can almost hear him handing that song over to the world at large. The older songs we’ve talked about must have gone through a similar process, as everyone who’d known the individuals involved passed away and the song moved from living memory into myth. We’re seeing that process begin with “Hattie Carroll” now, which is fascinating. I think that’s a good enough song that it will still be around in a hundred years’ time.

MBM: You mentioned earlier that “Stagger Lee” is a good example of how these songs change down the decades. 

PS: “Stagger Lee” is very much like that. You can see that in just three versions.

Mississippi John Hurt’s 1928 version is kindly and full of gentle pity for the man Stagger Lee kills. It’s coming from a place of more sorrow than anger and it’s very sympathetic to Billy. Although the singer sees the need for Stagger Lee to be executed in the song, his tone suggests he thinks the whole episode was just a sad, useless waste.

Then we move to the Lloyd Price version of 1959. It has that chanting refrain of “Go, Stagger Lee,” cheering the killer on, and the music’s really upbeat and celebratory. That’s a very different attitude.

Then you move on to Nick Cave in 1996. Cave positively revels in the sadism of the song. He’s said in interviews that one of the things he loves about “Stagger Lee” is that there seems to be no limit to the amount of cruelty the song can contain. It’s so interesting that over time we remove all sympathy for the victim, and step more and more eagerly into the killer’s shoes. That does say something about our times.

MBM: Thanks, Paul, for talking to us, and good luck with the book!

PS: Thank you for doing this. I love talking about murder ballads, so this has been a real pleasure for me.

You can find full details of Paul’s book at the Soundcheck Books website. We’ll be back next week with a new blogger and a modern classic. Also, if you’re interested in some of our past discussions of some of the songs mentioned above, you can follow the following links: “Stagolee,” “Poor Ellen Smith,” “Tom Dooley,” and “Demon Lover.”