Utah Phillips relives the story of the American laborer
“Progress might have been all right once, but it has gone on too long,” poet Ogden Nash said. An evening spent with old time storyteller and folk singer Utah Phillips left an audience of Cache Valley residents agreeing with him.
The Eccles Conference Center Auditorium slowly filled Friday night with fleece-vested, Birkenstock clad folk fans anxious for a night of fun with the man who has been called the Golden Voice of the Southwest. They were not disappointed.
Looking like either an old Mark Twain or a young Father Time, Phillips opened the evening with an extended version of Sarah Carter Bayes’ classic, “Railroading on the Great Divide.” He immediately recruited the help of the audience in singing the chorus, and repeatedly enlisted their aid throughout the evening. “These are the people’s songs. You ought to learn how to sing them, don’t you think?” he asked.
The first half of the night was filled with ruminations on Western living, with songs like “The Goodnight-Loving Trail” and stories about Phillips’ home base of Nevada City, California. His reflections on the Korean War, of which he was a part, served as the early emotional peak of the evening. His experiences with the poverty and depravation there
gave him something to sing about, he said. But while those memories are the root of his art, its flower took stage during the second half of the night.
A 51-year veteran of the International Workers of the World, Utah Phillips returned from the brief intermission as a sage-like, sometimes outrageous tour guide, leading the audience through the history of the American labor movement one anecdote at a time. Highlights of the second half of the night included Joe Hill classic “Pie in the Sky,” Phillips’ own “NPR Blues” and an ambling “Hallelujah, I’m a Bum!” He also told the story of Herb Edwards and the Spokane Free Speech Fight of 1910.
“It didn’t take any ballot boxes and it didn’t take any political parties. It’s called direct action and it comes to us highly recommended,” he said.
Wearing a flannel shirt, a bowtie and sporting a large beard and flowing white ponytail, he looked like a Socialist Santa Claus as he related the story of his becoming an anarchist and pacifist. He laced this story, and all of the others, with the stinging humor of songs like “I Will Not Obey.”
The audience was held spellbound from the moment Phillips greeted them at the door until the last chord of the encore: a rambling performance of Woody Guthrie’s “Dusty Old Dust.”
Diagnosed with congestive heart failure almost ten years ago, Phillips touring schedule is sporadic at best. “I leave town about once a month, and this is your month,” he said.
The audience seemed to realize how special a night this was, and they spent it in rapt attention.
“He’s a living legend, and it was really, really great to see him,” said Alex Fulsome of Salt Lake, who traveled to Logan just to see Phillips perform.
The whole crowd agreed, but don’t let Utah know.
“I would much regret being deemed a national treasure by the very institution I seek to dissolve,” he said as the show opened.
If he keeps playing concerts as funny, captivating and witty as this one, he may not have much choice.
Zach Pendleton is a junior majoring in English and a music critic for the Utah Statesman. Comments may be sent to zpendleton@cc.usu.edu