There But For Fortune
Show me a prison, show me a jail
Show me a prisoner whose face has grown pale
And I'll show you a young man
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I
Show me an alley, show me a train
Show me a hobo who sleeps out in the rain
And I'll show you a young man
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I
Show me the whiskey stains on the floor
Show me a drunk as he stumbles out the door
And I'll show you a young man
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I
Show me a country where the bombs had to fall
Show me the ruins of buildings so tall
And I'll show you a young land
With many reasons why
There but for fortune, go you or I
You or I
Joan Baez sang this song by Phil Ochs in Nottingham's Royal Concert Hall last night. I was privileged to be there.
Click here for Alex Ramon's review of her concert in London's Royal Festival Hall on 17 March.
From the perspective of our current culture, it’s slightly tormenting to think back to a period when songs like There But For Fortune and Blowin’ in the Wind were massive mainstream hits. Baez’s status as a bridge back to that tumultuous yet perhaps more engaged and more conscientious time clearly constitutes a considerable part of her enduring appeal. And yet her gigs seldom feel like exercises in nostalgia, and that’s due not only to the timeless appeal of the material but also to Baez’s ability to extend a bit of the past into the present, as evidenced by her dedication of a stirring Joe Hill to the Occupy movement. How urgently we need the lessons in compassion and empathy – and the calls to action — promoted in these songs, these days. And how heartening it is that, all these years on and as vibrantly as ever, Baez is still out there, delivering them.
ALEX RAMON
