Memories of Phil Ochs

I was reminded elsewhere of the only time I saw Phil Ochs perform live--at DePauw University, at a fundraised for Gene McCarthy in February or March of 1968 (we can't pin down the date).  The first time I heard of Phil Ochs was when Chet Huntley and David Brinkley did a segment (probably 1964) on draft resistance and played behind them a clip of Ochs singing the "Draft Dodger Rag:"

Well, I’m only eighteen
I got a ruptured spleen,
And I always carry a purse.
I got eyes like a bat
And my feet are flat
And my asthma’s gettin’ worse.
Consider my career,
My sweetheart dear,
And my poor old invalid aunt
Besides I ain’t no fool
I’m a-goin’ to school
And I’m workin’ in a defense plant.

I was struck by two things, one of which was the sense of humor.  The other was that underlying the song was (at least I thought) a real sense that dodging the draft was a dodge, that it was resistance that was called for.  And I started buying his records.  But the album on which "Draft Dodger Rag" had not yet been released, only All the News That's Fit to Sing was available (I Ain't Marchin' Anymore came out early in 1965--and I grabbed it as well).  "Too Many Martyrs" grabbed me almost immediately:

His name was Medgar Evers and he walked his road alone
Like Emmett Till and thousands more whose names we'll never know
They tried to burn his home and they beat him to the ground
But deep inside they both knew what it took to bring him down, 

Too many martyrs and too many dead
Too many lies, too many empty words were said
Too many times for too many angry men
Oh, let it never be again

Ochs was angry about injustice, and it showed--listen to "The State of Mississippi" from I Ain't Marchin' Anymore. 

Pleasures of the Harbor, from 1967, has what may be his best song on it, "Crucifixion," about the assassination of John Kennedy, and which Ochs is reported to have sung for the first time in public in Robert Kennedy's senatorial office.  His next album, Tape From California, has my own personal favorite song, "Half a Century High," on it:

In the tube where I was born
I could have sworn
There was so much to see
There was so little to be
But I was free
World at my command
Through the dots I ran
Looking for a man
Who looked like me 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high 
 
In the tube where I was raised
I was amazed
On the pictures I would lean
That went flashing on the screen
Oh, I was dazed
But then my eyes were made
Hypnotized, insane [unverified]
Buried in my brain
In a blinding blaze 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high 
 
In the tube where I was grown
I was alone
The figure on the floor
(Laying on the floor)
The dream behind the door
(I'd lock the closet door)
The sound was low
Ballgames on the street
Disappeared behind my feet
Out of breath my heart would be
To see another show 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high 
 
In the tube where I was made
I was afraid  
Spinning through the space
Another scene, another face
Another shade
Mirror of my mind
On electric wheels of wine
Living on the lines
That were displayed 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high 
 
In the tube where I was fed
I lost my head
I watch the lives they led
Watch them to the end
And then again
An open kind of laugh
I gave all the mind I had
And whenever I was sad
I had my friends 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high 
 
In the tube where I was killed
I was fulfilled
Such an easy way to win
Talking to my twin
No sign of sin
The sacrifice was small
Fascination was the fall
I was extended by the wall
That held me in 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high
In the tube where I was killed 
 
I was fulfilled
The lies of light would bend
I'd stare until the end
And then again
Faded and the fad
I gave all the mind I had
And whenever I was sad
I had my friends 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high 
In the tube where I was born
I could have sworn
There was so much to see
There was so little to be
But I was free
World at my command
Through the dots I ran
Looking for a man
Who looked like me 
 
And now it can be told
I'm a quarter of a century old
But I'm half a century high

 

 I wondered then if he ever found the man who looked like him; I was to learn that, apparently, he had not.  I learned that, first of all, from two songs on the final album released during his lifetime, Phil Ochs' Greatest Hits, "Chords of Fame" and "No More Songs."
 

I found him by the stage last night
He was breathing his last breath
A bottle of gin and a cigarette
Was all that he had left
I can see you're making music
'Cause you carry a guitar
But God, help the troubadour
Who tries to be a star 
 
So play the chords of love, my friend
Play the chords of pain
If you want to keep your song
Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame 
 
I've seen my share of hustlers
As they try to take the world
When they find their melody
They're surrounded by the girls
But it all fades so quickly
Like a sunny summer day
Reporters ask you questions
They write down what you say 
 
So play the chords of love, my friend
Play the chords of pain
If you want to keep your song
Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame 
So play the chords of love, my friend
Play the chords of pain
If you want to keep your song
Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame 
 
They will rob you of your innocence
They will put you up for sale
More that you will find success
The more that you will fail
I've been around, I've had my share
And I really can't complain
But I wonder who I left behind
 On the other side of fame 
 
So play the chords of love, my friend
Play the chords of pain
If you want to keep your song
Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame

 

 "I wonder who I left behind/On the other side of fame..."  The meaning of the other song from this album was born in on me in April 1976, when I woke up to the news that Phil Ochs had committed suicide.  The editor of Creem wrote, in the next issue, that he wished Phil had left us a suicide song.  And that's when I realized that he had..."No More Songs:"

Hello, hello, hello, is there anybody home?
I've only called to say, I'm sorry
The drums are in the dawn and all the voices gone
And it seems that there are no more songs 

 

Once I knew a girl, she was a flower in a flame
I loved her as the sea sings sadly
Now the ashes of the dream, can be found in the magazines
And it seems that there are no more songs 

 

Once I knew a sage, who sang upon the stage
He told about the world, his lover
 Now a ghost without a name, stands ragged in the rain
And it seems that there are no more song 

 

The rebels they were here, they came beside the door
They told me that the moon was bleeding
Then all to my surprise, they took away my eyes
And it seems that there are no more songs 

 

A star is in the sky, it's time to say goodbye
A whale is on the beach, he's dying
A white flag in my hand and a white bone in the sand
And it seems that there are no more song 

 

Hello, hello, hello, is there anybody home?
I've only called to say, I'm sorry
The drums are in the dawn and all the voices gone
And it seems that there are no more songs
It seems that there are no more songs
It seems that there are no more songs

 

I hope that somewhere, somehow, at some time, he found some peace.