Watch the video below, and you will see that the Pax Plena song of the week pretty much sums up our Christian Legal Society organization in six minutes.

Just kidding. 

But it does mark the denouement of the Rat Pack, Bing Crosby, and arguably the golden era of American music.

Taken from the 1964 hit film Robin and the 7 Hoods, Mr. Booze features the talent of Bing Crosby, Sammy Davis Jr., Dean Martin, and Frank Sinatra. The group appears in the film as a gaggle of South Chicago racketeers (not unlike Barack Obama) who are trying to prevent muscle man Peter Falk (yes, that Peter Falk) from invading their turf during Prohibition.

The film was released to mix reviews, although it earned Academy Award nominations for Best Music Song and Best Music Score. But in recent years, the film has recovered its artistic acclaim for its contribution to music history, and its special place as Bing Crosby’s last musical role.

The song itself is a hilarious spoof of a 1920s era revival meeting; replete with testifying sinners, a sanctimonious minister (Bing Crosby), and a church full of hand-waving, tambourine-playing congregants. The dust Bing slaps off the Bible at the beginning of the clip is priceless. Take care to listen to the low note sung around the 6:00 mark.

The video of the performance appears below. Lyrics follow after the jump. Enjoy!

Mister Booze
Bing Crosby 

Booze, Mister Booze (Mister Booze), Mister Booze
Mister B double O, Z Eeee, (That sure spells booze),
You will wind up wearing tattered shoes if you mess with Mister Booze.
(Don’t mess with Mister Booze, don’t mess with Mister Booze.)

Don’t mess with B, double o, Z, E, if you’ve been so sick you thought you’d died. You’ll feel better once you testify.(Testify, Testify)

[I want to testify, I want to testify]
Well, then cleanse yourself, my child, cleanse yourself. Brothers and sisters, I happen to know this poor unfortunate soul, and the fight she is waging against sin. That old devil hooch has turned her into the unsightly person you see before you. Give us your testimony, my child.
[Well, it all began with Daddy] (Yeah?)
[He said drink helped him stay alive] (Yeah?)
[Do you know how old he was when he died?] (No)
[He was only twenty-five] (No! No!)
[That’s why I gotta come clean] (why?)
[Because I’m already seventeen]

Who’s to blame? (Who’s to blame?) What his name?
(We know his name.  His name is)
Mister Booze, Mister Booze, Mister B, double O, Z, E,
Don’t ever choose, any game you play with him, you lose.

If your head feels like it’s ten foot wide, You’ll feel better once you testify
(testify, testify, testify)

[I want to testify, You got to let me come testify!]
Well, come forward, dear brother, come forward.You see here, ladies and gentlemen, a man who just last year was the United States Olympic heavyweight wrestling champion. Now here he is, just a shadow of his former self, wasted in health, ravaged by sin. Give us your testimony, dear brother.

[I was cruel and I was mean] (He was mean!)
[I was a pickpocket!] (A no-good pickpocket!)
[And then sin got me] Gin got him…oh, a little bit of that too.
[Sin and Gin got me in its clutches, and that’s why I need forgiving] (Why?)
[‘Cause now my hands shake so much, Reverend, I can’t even make a living] (Get out!)
That’s a shame! (What a shame!)
Who’s to blame? (Who’s to blame? His name is)
Mister Booze, Mister Booze, Mister B, double O, Z., E. (You must refuse!)

[I wanna testify!]
You don’t have to. [Oh, but I wanna!] But you don’t have to.
(Oh let him testify.)
Very well, then let us lead you on the path of righteousness. Not long ago, brothers and sisters,
This helpless soul was the foremost brain surgeon in this grand and glorious country. Success was smiling down upon him. Well, go ahead and tell us your story, oh downtrodden one.
[I use spirits for medicinal purposes only] (Yeah)
[I manufactured it for medicinal purposes only.] (yeah?)
[Then I started drinking what I manufactured and I drank myself out of a hell of a business for medicinal purposes only.] (That’s right!)

Alcohol makes a big man small and can lead to life of crime.

Demon rum makes a gent a bum, and you cash in before your time.

Bootleg gin puts you in a spin till you don’t even know your name.

You’re a public disgrace, flat on your face, and there’s only one guy to blame.

(Oh Mister Booze, Mister Booze, Mister B, double O, Z, E, don’t ever choose)
(Don’t you wind up swearing platitudes if you’re mad with Mister Booze)
(Don’t mess, mess with Mr. Booze.)

Don’t mess with B, double O. Z, E, cause that spells booze. And you gotta lose with Mi-ister Booze. 
(Oh Yeah).
Don’t mess around with Mister Booze.

(Don’t with Mister Booze, Don’t with Mister Booze.)
(What’s his name now, Oh Mister Booze),
(Don’t mess with Mister Booze), Oh Mister Booze, (Don’t mess with Mister Booze.)

With the throes of 2L well upon me, I have scarce had time to listen to my iPod at all, let alone branch out to pass along new music recommendations. But this Pax Plena Song of the Week falls under the increasingly rare category of new music discoveries made by yours truly.

Composed by American folks musician Jay Ungar, and performed by Scottish Violinist Aly Bain, Ashokan Farewell made its debut on to the American music scene during the early 1990s in a PBS Mini-series called The Civil War. The song is written in the style of a Scottish air so it boasts a breezy, wistful melody that make it both enchanting and soaring at the same time. Listening to the piece, it is not difficult to imagine an evening stroll along the banks of the Ashokan Reservoir in upstate NY (the song’s namesake), or a foggy overlook from the Scottish Highlands.

The story of the song is also intriguing. In a lengthy back and forth on his personal website, composer Jay Ungar describes the emotion he felt upon the song’s completion:

I composed Ashokan Farewell in 1982 shortly after our Fiddle & Dance Camps had come to an end for the season. I was feeling a great sense of loss and longing for the music, the dancing and the community of people that had developed at Ashokan that summer. The transition from living at a secluded woodland camp with a small group of people who needed little excuse to celebrate the joy of living, back to life as usual, with traffic, newscasts, telephones and impersonal relationships, had been difficult. By the time the tune took form, I was in tears. I kept it to myself for months, unable to fully understand the emotions that welled up whenever I played it. I had no idea that this simple tune could effect others in the same way.

[Link]

It is exactly this sense of melancholy that makes the song so powerful. Ungar describes his loss of community at the summer’s conclusion, but it is easy to substitute this with a personal sense of plaintiveness. Even while Jay mourns the passing of summer, one could readily long for a lost love, a missed opportunity, or a change of pace all the same. Simply put, the emotions conjured by the music may be person specific, but the nature of the music itself is universal.  Given the change invariably brought about through the on set of fall (See my thoughts on fall and change here, here, here, and here), I felt it was a timely selection. 

In all, it is an absolutely stunning piece, and well-deserving of the title Pax Plena Song of the Week. A video of Ungar and Bain performing the song appears below as filmed in the Transatlantic Sessions by the BBC. Enjoy!

In a few hours, I will begin a long overdue trip to my much beloved home on the rolling plains. To mark the occasion, the Pax Plena song of the week is none other than Rodgers & Hammerstein’s classic show tune Oklahoma!

Oddly, one of my favorite performances of the musical took place at the Wolf Trap National Park for the Performing Arts- a veritable mecca of culture nestled just outside of Washington, D.C. The cast was full of bright, young actors who struggled as best they could to capture an Oklahoma accent. It was a bit too muggy to watch a musical in the summer, as I recall, but the closing chorus makes every performance worth while.

Of course, no performance of Oklahoma! is more memorable than the one preformed by the Walters High School Varsity Choir during my sophomore year. A fun fact for the Pax Plena faithful- yours truly sang baritone throughout my high school days, and played the small role of Judge Andrew Carnes in said production.

Perhaps law school was always in the cards after all.

Given my exodus from the desert, blogging will be light over the course of the next few days. I will do my best to post as time allows. In the interim, please enjoy the Pax Plena song of the week, and the coolest State Song in land, Oklahoma!

Oklahoma!
By Rodgers & Hammerstein

Eller:
They couldn’t pick a better time as that in life

Andrew:
It ain’t too early and it ain’t too late

Laurey:
Startin’ as a farmer with a brand new wife

Curley:
Soon’ll be livin’ in a brand new state

Company:
Brand new state!
Brand new state, gonna treat you great!
Gonna give you barley, carrots and pertaters,
Pasture fer the cattle,
Spinach and termayters!
Flowers on the prarie where the June bugs zoom,
Plen’y of air and plen’y of room,
Plen’y of room to swing a rope!
Plen’y of heart and plen’y of hope.

Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain
And the wavin’ wheat can sure smell sweet
When the wind comes right behind the rain.
Oklahoma, Ev’ry night my honey lamb and I
Sit alone and talk and watch a hawk
Makin’ lazy circles in the sky.

We know we belong to the land
And the land we belong to is grand!
And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We’re only sayin’
You’re doin’ fine, Oklahoma!
Oklahoma O.K.

Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain
And the wavin’ wheat can sure smell sweet
When the wind comes right behind the rain.
Oklahoma, Ev’ry night my honey lamb and I
Sit alone and talk and watch a hawk
Makin’ lazy circles in the sky.

We know we belong to the land
And the land we belong to is grand!
And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We’re only sayin’
You’re doin’ fine, Oklahoma!
Oklahoma O.K.

Okla-okla-Okla-Okla-Okla-Okla
Okla-okla-Okla-Okla-Okla-Okla…

We know we belong to the land
And the land we belong to is grand!
And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We’re only sayin’
You’re doin’ fine, Oklahoma!
Oklahoma O.K.
L – A – H – O – M – A
OKLAHOMA!
Yeeow!

The monsoons have finally arrived here in Tucson. After a long, sun-parched summer, and with a trip to Oklahoma looming, I can think of no better song of the week, for this Tuesday in particular, than George Strait’s A Better Rain.

Taken from the 2006 album It Just Comes Natural, the melody of the song mixes pensive and optimistic sounds to create a wistful tribute to life and change. What makes the sound unique, in a style specific to George Strait, is its simple use of the fiddle and acoustic guitar. Few instruments are more evocative of such melancholic emotions.

But what really makes the song special is its lyrics. All country lyrics tell a story. Yet, the story in this song happens to be especially true to life. Sung in the first person, it tells the story of a love gone wrong, and likens the end of the relationship to the dark, foreboding rains of a storm. The troubadour muses about life’s complexities, and then concludes by wishing the woebegone lover ‘a better rain’ to wash away the grime of pain.

In response, the mood and music of the tune lifts as the singer encourages the lover to recall the good times- ‘before the flood, once upon a time in love, a beautiful us.’ The recollection becomes a prelude to the rainbow still to come.

As 2L year peaks over the horizon, the song reminds me how we are each indelibly shaped by our pasts. The music seems to embrace this point. In the song, as in love and life, we have little choice but to forge ahead. Change is inevitable. And so the lot falls on each of us to embrace the rain- to expect that the clouds will pass, and to anticipate the streams in the desert.

Few people go through life having never loved and lost. For those among the masses of people who have done both, the message of A Better Rain will strike a chord.

The photo at right of the Tucson monsoons appears courtesy of yours truly. Feel free to use as you would. A terrific user video of A Better Rain appears below. Lyrics follow after the jump. Enjoy!

A Better Rain
By George Strait

Baby, what do you say when love comes down on you
Rainin’ the blues on you
Like it’s never gonna end on you
And all your dreams like leaves in the gutter go floatin’ by
No, baby, I don’t know why all God’s children cry
I’ll miss your skin, as golden as your wheat-field hair
And where you go, I hope you find out there

A better rain
The kind that comes in off the coast and paints the sky
And lets you know that God’s alive
A better rain
That’ll wash me from your eyes so you can smile again
And be all right again
In a better rain

Someday is gonna find you in a sweeter place
Long after time has erased
All the words like razor blades
You’ll remember you and me before the flood
Once upon a time in love, a beautiful us
I can see you on some stretch of sand
Spinin’ round in circles barefoot dancin’ in

A better rain
That’ll leave behind a rainbow in the sky
Let you know that God’s alive
A better rain
That’ll wash me from your eyes so you can smile again
And be all right again
In a better rain

A better rain
That’ll leave a rainbow in the sky
Lets you know that God’s alive
In a better rain
A better rain

In an age where people and artists continually reinvent themselves, I have come to appreciate consistency. Going on nearly four decades in country music, George Strait is a bastion of tradition in a sea of ever changing artists. Last weekend I stumbled across George Strait’s new Troubadour album and was pleased to see that the King of Country still has it.

With one song from the new album already atop the country billboards, Strait’s stipped-down version of country music has made him the stuff of legend. The most obvious example of this nearly minimalist style is found in the first single on the album eponymously titled Troubadour. The song is at points both wistful and self-affirming. It’s unique simplicity earns it the title, Pax Plena Song of the Week.

Country music fans will appreciate that the songs on the entire album are pure George Strait. Far from having the rock flourishes of a Keith Urban, George Strait’s brand of country music reminds one of driving dusty roads in West Texas. With Strait, the generic trappings of Nashville are displaced for want of Frio County, Texas. The music is real.

In terms of sound, the drive of the album is obviously Strait’s voice, but its instrumentation is guided by the pure strum of an acoustic guitar, and the crying fiddle that personifies country music. A small trap set keeps beat, but its role in the song is far subordinate to the elements mentioned above.

But what makes Troubadour stand out from an impressive gallery of songs on the album is its lyrics. The words of the song force one to consider self-definition. Because Strait’s music style, already has quite the established definition, the challenge in the lyrics comes with authority.

For instance, in the chorus, the singer muses that even as old age approaches some goals remain the same (viz., still trying to make a name), though they have now been tempered by a profound self-assurance (viz., Knowing nothing’s gonna change what I am). This simple introspection strikes at the heart of the very negotiation made between ambition and definition. For those who resolve the conflict, there is no need to fret comparisons with others because we are who we are at the end of the day. Take it or leave it. I would submit that most folks can relate to the questions posed. The problems the song presents are just as relevant in Pearsall, TX as they are in New York City.

George Strait reminds us that in some ways we are all troubadours. Our songs are simply different.

Please enjoy the Pax Plena Song of the Week, Troubadour in the video below. Lyrics follow after the jump.

Troubadour
By George Strait

I still feel 25,
most of the time.
I still raise a little cain with the boys.
Honky tonk and pretty woman.
Lord I’m still right there with them.
Singing above the crowd and the noise.

(Chorus)
Sometimes I feel like Jesse James,
Still trying to make a name.
Knowing nothings gonna change what I am.
I was a young troubadour,
when I rode in on a song.
and I’ll be an old troubadour,
when I’m gone.

Well, The truth about a mirror,
It’s that a damn old mirrow.
Don’t really tell the whole truth,
It don’t show what’s deep inside.
Oh read between the lines,
it’s really no reflection of my youth.

(Repeat Chorus)

I was a young troubadour,
when I rode in on a song.
and I’ll be an old troubadour,
when I’m gone.
I’ll be an old troubadour,
when I’m gone.