Copper Kettle

Happy Day to All Mothers! My new Gristle cigar-box "Kat 330" guitar is featured here, whee! With its fret spacing and neck length, there are a limited number of tunes I can cover with any "panache," but this old repertory chestnut is one of them. I recorded the guitar first, continuing it on to the 3:30 mark or so. When I started fitting in the verse sections, I realized I had played six total, but Beddoe's lyrics only stretch to three plus a repeat of the first. I could have cut out two sections, but decided instead to write two new verses myself. Now, other than portraying Daisy Mae in a Lake George resort's production of "L'il Abner," I have no experience with moonshiners nor the culture of that era's area; but I know the hills here and of Appalachia are alive with the sounds of music and morel mushrooms. So hopefully I incorporated both in the 'shinin' spirit of A.F.'s lyrical intent. Layers include harmony (ending in my ™ trio to finish), tambourine (too loud when mastered, but had recorded it along with main vocal and not worth redoing all vocal layers); a banjo pluck and jug blow here and there, a brief entrance and exit of fiddle (recognize the musical allusion?); and effects of crickets, pouring liquid, a frog and a single owl hoot. I certainly had a hoot assembling the parts of this production and hope you have one when listening! xxx <-- for kisses AND the iconic markings of a moonshine jug ☼:) [John Laurence remastered this and it can be heard here: https://soundcloud.com/john-poletti/copper-kettle-jl-remaster Lyrics by Beddoe (+ Martin) Get you a copper kettle Get you some copper coil Cover with new-made corn mash And never more you'll toil CHORUS: You just lay there by the juniper While the moon is bright Watch them jugs a-fillin' In the pale moonlight Build your fires of hickory Hickory or ash or oak Don't use no green or rotten wood It'll choke you by the smoke My daddy he made whiskey My granddaddy did too We ain't paid no whiskey tax Since seventeen ninety-two [Next two verses by K.A. Martin] Our cabin's in a holler Nestled by wooded hills Momma can fetch top dollar For a mess of wild morels Ol' Beaufort bows the fiddle Bobby Joe blows the jug I tap my toes and whittle As June cuts a jitterbug