Lookin for a Soul to Steal

This is a transcription of the first episode of the Earth Noise Podcast.

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Overture: Lookin’ for a Soul to Steal

Music: “Devil Went Down to Georgia” by Charlie Daniels

You're listening to Earth Noise, the podcast that uses music as a vessel to travel through time and space, hosted by me, Kelsey Georgesen. 

On this show, we will explore our collective experience by listening to a variety of music and finding a common thread.
This podcast is recorded on the traditional land of the Kiikpoi people. I also want to acknowledge that all American music has been influenced by the African diaspora. In this audio space, we aim to elevate the voices of Black and Indigenous people and their music.

Today, we’re going to explore the ways that music is used in cultural stories, and referenced within songs itself, as a tool for playing with or fending off devil and demon figures. The title of this episode comes from the song "The Devil Went Down to Georgia." You know, “"The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin' for a soul to steal.” That “soul to steal” is the whole theme of this episode. If you haven’t heard the whole thing, here are the words to the first section.

"The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin' for a soul to steal

He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind

And he was willin' to make a deal

When he came across this young man sawin' on a fiddle and playin' it hot

And the devil jumped up on a hickory stump

And said, "boy, let me tell you what"

"I guess you didn't know it but I'm a fiddle player too

And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you

Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy

But give the devil his due

I'll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul

'Cause I think I'm better than you"

The boy said, "my name's Johnny and it might be a sin

But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret

'Cause I'm the best there's ever been"

Laughs

That was from “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” by the Charlie Daniels band. Thank you to Anthony Rideout for accompanying me on the bass.

These lyrics, like at the end when the fiddler is saying, “You know, it might be a sin, but you know what? I’m gonna take this bet.” I think it tells such a powerful story about, you know, the fear of the devil, or even the fear of God, the wrath of god, especially in these southern communities, which is being alluded to here in this song. And this huge risk that Johnny’s willing to take, a willingness to lose your soul for the ultimate title of being the best musician, for the ultimate prize of that golden fiddle. It’s a common plot in music history, it’s something we see a lot in narratives over time. 

Music: “Crossroads,” by Robert Johnson

The tune, “Cross Road Blues” by Robert Johnson was allegedly a product of Johnson trading his soul for the ability to play guitar, and to truly play the style of blues. 

Music: guitar playing

There’s a story of this remembered by another musician, Son House, who said that Robert Johnson was okay at harmonica but really wasn’t that great and didn’t really know how to play the blues. And, was terrible at guitar, apparently, just could not play, and he disappeared for a few weeks. And legend has it that Johnson, while he was missing, um took his guitar to the crossroads of highways 49 and 61 in Clarksdale, Mississippi…

“I went to the crossroads, and fell down on my knees…”

And at the crossroads, hence “The Cross Road Blues,” uhm, the devil took his instrument, borrowed it whatever, and returned it in exchange for Johnson’s soul. 

“I went to the crossroads, and fell down on my knees…”

And returning this guitar, also giving Johnson the power to play the guitar and shred and be like a really blues man.

“Asked the Lord above, ‘Have mercy, now, save poor Bob if you please’”

And they say that Johnson returned with formidable technique and this just complete understanding and grap and embodiment of the blues. 

The song you just heard was “Crossroads” or “The Cross Road Blues,” by Robert Johnson.

This story was told of another musician, Tommy Johnson, earlier. No relation, not relation to Robert Johnson, but, um, the story really stuck because Robert Johnson had kind of a troubled life, and was actually, died when he was 27 as so many musicians in history have, um, so that short and troubled life made this plot that he had traded his soul with the devil really believable to folks, and it really stuck.

And this tale is really old. So, Robert Johnson was born in 1911, but Paganini, the famous violinist, was born in 1782 and has a really similar story. Paganini started a lot of traditions that stuck around, including memorizing music for performances. He was one of the first musicians to perform music memorized. Apparently the effect of a musician performing without looking at music was kind of uh entrancing for people. They would watch this person totally absorbed and in the moment, eyes closed, moving to the music- you know, the things we kind of expect from musicians now, and they were like- oh, it’s like he’s possessed, he looks so weird, what is he doing? What’s happening to him? And this act, paired with his really striking features- apparently he had, you know, he was like a very tall man with dark features and very prominent profile and bone structure, so he stood out, he looked very distinct, and he was losing himself in this music-which he wasn’t even looking at music! And just losing himself while he was playing, and people just found it completely enrapturing. 

Many witnesses claimed while he was playing that they saw the devil himself, or itterations of the devil, like, beside Paganini, next to Paganini, behind Paganini- you know, they, they saw the devil kind of helping out of being invovled in this. It was even said at one point that the devil struck the tip of Paganini’s bow with Lightning. Caprese no. 24, the final caprese of Paganini’s piece is infamous for it’s devil-like sound. This recording of Caprese no. 24 in A minor, from Niccolò Paganini's 24 Caprices is performed by Steven Staryk. Rather than play all of the variations of the theme, I’ve layered four or the 13 variations to give you a sample of this famous piece.

Music: Caprese no. 24 by Niccolò Paganini performed by Steven Staryk

I wanted to explore this topic as we are approaching this liminal time of year, Halloween, Day of the Dead, Samhein, these different traditional holidays that all celebrate death, our connect to death, our relationship with devils and spirits and demons and fiendish things and um I think it’s so interesting that in music history we have these narratives of devils influencing or possessing or manipulating musicians, but there are also many folk stories and myths where music wards off the monster, or the evil being, um, and I thought it would be great to look at these different narratives and stories that we hear. 

Act 1: Sacred & Secular

I really wanted to dive into this topic with a glimpse of music from Dio de Los Muertos- Day of the Dead. Whether we are looking at Dia de los Muertos, Halloween, Samhein, or other examples of this holiday, they are all based on this being a cross-quarter day, or a day that’s halfway to the next equinox. We’re almost to this darkest time of the year, which is why it feels like this, I don’t know, especially mystical time to so many people. 

Dia de los Muertos  really highlights the way that all of these holidays walk the intersection of sacred and secular. In fact, much of the fear surrounding the “devil music” mentioned earlier stems directly from religious practices. It’s interesting that spiritual music can be inspiring, or meant to invoke fear. I think religion in general, laughs, can be either of those things for folks.

So this song we’re going to listen to by Lila Downs is, “Son de Difuntos” which translates to “They are from the deceased”  telling the story of that thin line between sacred and secular, describing the grim reaper and the saints all gathered together. This song goes further, and describes that intersection of Indigenous culture and the effects of colonialism. So I’m just going to read a few of the lyrics from this, not the whole song, before you get a chance to just actually sit and listen to this really high energy, beautfiul piece that like I said is describing that intersection of sacred and spiritual, where these two kind of cross and meet in the middle. 

I’m going to read the translation of these lyrics, I’m not going to read all of the lyrics, I’m just going to read a few little sections that I think help paint the picture of what this song is about. It’s a rough translation, things won’t rhyme, here it is.

The grim reaper was sitting
Smoking his tobacco
With the saints they argued
Who had his last drink

Marigold and copal
Smoke that you go from the road
I will take your holy daughter
If you don't put wine on my altar

And there’s kind of a chorus about the dead man and the dead woman, and how they’ve already been chosen, by the grim reaper or the saints. 

Here comes the grim reaper 
Candle, candle, candle
That mystery to your mantle
Give me candle, candle
May my deceased come enjoying
Candle, candle, candle

And then the woman turned on her TV
To see the telenovela
The ruler with his cronies
The homeland was whitewashed

Tamales and chocolate
Because it asks for sweet and salty
Along that path of flowers
That in the offering is waiting for you
Through that path of flowers
That in the offering is waiting for you

Music: Son de Difuntos by Lila Downs

¡Ahí viene la muerte! ¡Epa!
Estaba sentada la parca
Fumándose de su tabaco
Con los santos se discutía
Quién se echaba su último trago
Con los santos se discutía
Quién se echaba su último trago
Cempazúchitl y copal
Humo que vas del camino
Yo me llevo a tu hija santa
Si no pones en mi altar vino
Yo me llevo a tu hija santa
Si no pones en mi altar vino
Ese muerto sí, ese muerto no
Que el muerto aquí, ya se escogió
El diputado y el alacrán
Por corrupción los enterrarán
Esa muerta sí, esa muerta no
La muerta aquí, ya se escogió
La profesora y esa araña
Por negligencia las enterrarán

¡Úja!

Ahí viene la parca (Uh, uh)
Vela, vela, veladora
Ese misterio a tu manto
Dame vela, veladora
Que mi difunto venga gozando
Vela, vela, veladora
Ese misterio a tu manto
Dame vela, veladora
Que mi difunto venga gozando
Eh-eh-eh-eh
Ahí viene la pelona (Ah-eah)

¡Upa!

La pelona prendió su tele
Para ver la telenovela
El tlatoani con sus compinches
A la patria se la alburean
El tlatoani con sus compiches
A la patria se la alburean
Tamales y chocolate
Porque pide dulce y salado
Por ese camino de flores
Que en la ofrenda te está esperando
Por ese camino de flores
Que en la ofrenda te está esperando
Ese muerto sí, ese muerto no
Que el muerto aquí, ya se escogió
El diputado y el alacrán
Por corrupción los enterrarán
Esa muerta sí, esa muerta no
La muerta aquí ya se escogió
La profesora y esa araña
Por negligencia las enterrarán
¡Ajá, epa! (Uh-uh-uh-eah)
¡Ahí viene la pelona!
¡Ahí viene la muerte!

This song is “Son de Difuntos” by Lila Downs from her Balas y Chocolate album.

What I love about this song is it’s dealing with such heavy topics, really, like who’s done with their life and oh man, if we don’t leave something on the altar we might not get to you know see them again in the after life, and even this section, talking about the land ruler, his cronies, the homeland that has been whitewashed um kind of eluding back to these Indigenous communities and how they were impact by colonialism- it’s such a heavy hitting thing, and you listen to this song and you’re like, wow, it’s so energizing and upbeat and you know, it’s so amazing what, how music and language and cultural stories can intersect in this way that is moving and inspiring and playful. Um, so I take this as, it’s telling a traditional story, but it’s also in a way saying it’s out of your hands. Like, you can leave your offerings and you can do your best but it’s down to um the grim reaper and the saints, right? Or to either, or to both. Is the grim reaper separate from the saints? Are they different powers, a secular power and a spiritual power? Are they the same, are they none of them powers at all? Kind of asks a lot of questions um, it has levity to it, despite the heaviness of the topic. I really enjoyed that one and thought it would be a great one to open with today as we’re talking about this concept. I think that this song, and so much music from Dio de Los Muertos, really highlights the intersection of secular and spiritual in actual cultural practices, as well as in the way that they hear them in music. I mean, music is constantly weaving between these two topics. So I thought this was a great way to speculate about death and tradition and music practices. 

Act 2: The Macabre

The next piece that I want to talk about is an old classic, “Danse Macabre.” There’s a famous orchestral version of “Danse Macabre” that was written by Camille Saint Saens. And this is a really famous and popular recording, it’s one that’s used in many music lessons. I actually want to give a shout out to a teacher I worked with when I was teaching in schools, Mrs. Monika Spangler taught me a lot of what I know about Danse Macabre, and was really my first time listening to this piece all the way through and knowing what to listen for, hearing the different qualities in this song and the story that it tells. In this piece and the story that it tells.

Danse macabre was a French art narrative used in the late middle ages meaning “no matter one’s station in life, death unites us all.” Which is really powerful. And I think it’s what a lot of these narratives around death end up centering around, when we think about our practices around, in costuming for Halloween, right, you don’t know who’s in that costume, right? It could be anybody. They could be in any walk or station in life. Um, you think about Dio de los Muertos, and its not about wealth or status, it’s about who’s remembered and what they’re remembered for, and how they’re remembered and what legacies they left in terms of family and work and memory. And so this idea, especially that it became a way to make art. A lot of visual art and other works were being made during the late middle ages in France to represent this, to show death as a uniting factor. It’s pretty- uh, I hate to say it’s pretty macabre, but it is, laughs. Um, it’s a pretty um kind of dark imagery, heavy imagery, it’s a pretty heavy imagery, and centered around really big ideas about life and death. 

This poem was a summary of this idea, and actually this poem and this French superstitious art narrative are the things that Camille Saint Saens based the famous version of “Danse Macabre,” the orchestral piece, based on this poem and on this idea. 

This is a sample from the poem Danse Macabre written by Henri Canzales in 1872, and translated by Richard Stokes. 

Tap, tap, tap—Death rhythmically,
Taps a tomb with his heel,
Death at midnight plays a gigue,
Tap, tap, tap, on his violin.

The Winter wind blows, the night is dark,
The lime-trees groan aloud;
White skeletons flit across the gloom,
Running and leaping beneath their huge shrouds

Tap, tap, tap, what a sara-bahnd
Circles of corpses all holding hands!
Tap, tap, tap, in the throng you can see
King and peasant dancing together!

But shh! Suddenly the dance is ended,
They jostle and take flight—the rooster has crowed…
Ah! Nocturnal beauty shines on the poor!
And long live death and equality!

That sums it up, right?

That in death, we are all united. That the people we spend eternity with could be someone we don’t even know in this life. Ooh. 

Music: Danse Macabre, by Camille Saint Saens, as performed by the University of Chicago orchestra in 2013

The next piece that we are going to listen to is Danse Macabre, composed by Camille Saint Saens, as performed by the University of Chicago orchestra in 2013.

So Saint Saens wrote a, essentially a musical poem, based on the actual poem, where we are hearing some of this clear imagery. So at the beginning, the harp plays twelve tones.

Harp plays

...to emulate the clock striking midnight. And we all know that midnight is when the trouble starts on Halloween, right? You’ll hear kind of an allusion to the fiddle, the violins playing a little more raucous part in this, to indicate that skeletons are now dancing, death has risen, they’re playing, they’re having their moment, right? This is the one time of year when death gets to have it’s day.

Violins playing

And then at the end, there’s um a little oboe melody that you’ll hear, that is the rooster cawing and indicating that the sun is rising, the fun is over, and everybody needs to go back, descending into the ground, the underworld, um for now. 

Oboe plays

So now we’ll have a listen to death’s final dance before it begins its descent back to the underworld.  This is the second half of “Danse Macabre,” as performed by the University of Chicago orchestra in 2013. 

Music playing

It’s really interesting. Franz Liszt actually ended up transcribing this piece for piano, and both Ernest Giarud and Camille Saint Saens himself made their own arrangements of this piece for piano for four hands. At the end of this episode, I’ll give you a little taste of what that piano piece for four hands would sound like. 



Before I leave this topic of Danse Macabre, and this whole concept of death will you unite us all, I want to say that just like we saw that “Devil Went Down to Georgia” story show up in history, in the early 1900s and also in the 1700s and probably time and time again before, this story here started in the late middle ages, at least as an art practice. It was probably a narrative even earlier than that. But we saw it show up in different forms of art that we have today. We saw this poem as we approach the romantic period. We have this piece, and then Liszt arranged this piece, and then it was arranged again, for four hands on piano. And orchestras are still performing this piece, but I would argue that the um, the contemporary iteration of this story is the youtube sensation of the video “Spooky Scary Skeletons,” which is the modern day phenomena of a video from the 1929 Disney cartoon “The Skeleton Dance” merged with the 1996 children's Halloween song this kind of weird early 1900s video with this late 1900s song stitched together, put on this digital space that we have that is Youtube, and then, I don’t it’s popularity, and it’s also telling the story that goes back to the late middle ages. I think it’s so interesting because that is an extension of this Danse Macabre story that’s being told through kind of the magic of the digital universe today, and I think that’s today’s version.

Music: “Spooky Scary Skeletons,” by Andrew Gold, 1996

Act 3: Music as Protection

Of course, music isn’t always the devil in the story. Many times, music is a protecting force, a symbol or safety and goodness in the middle of evil or danger. The South African song and story of “Abiyoyo” is a great example of that. This is a Bantu story and uh, it’s honestly these days mostly credited to Pete Seeger for publishing it in a book and singing it, and I really like the way that Pete Seeger shares this story, actually on an old episode of Reading Rainbow, you should look that up if you get the chance. But, um, when I hear stories like this, that have been kind of retold and pulled away from their roots, I like to imagine it’s original iteration. And this is a story that tells of, kind of mischief makers. Pete Seeger refers to a ukelele in his story, and I would imagine that the original iteration, actually, is talking about the Uhadi or the Kalumbu, traditional instruments of this region of South Africa. And he also uses the word magician to describe the boy’s father, but I imagine in the region this is from, “magician” is a light term. He wasn’t doing magic tricks, he was probably performing real magic. A priest, or a witch. Things that were feared, but also essential in communities. And we’ve seen that music and magic are things that are always feared, and also often essential. So here’s my telling of this story. This story is called, Abiyoyo,” and it’s got a song that goes with it, which is why I’m sharing it here.

Story and Music: Abiyoyo, and oral tradition learned from Pete Seeger’s telling

It’s a story about music. About monsters. About scary things like music and magic, and scary things like monsters, and how music can actually be a protecting force. 

So there’s a little boy and his father in a village. A South African village. And the boy is a typical annoying kid that has this instrument that he loves to play and he’s running around strumming on it, just making all of this noise. 

Two Ngqoko women playing the Umgube and talking

And everybody’s like, “Get out of here with that! You are making too much noise, go somewhere else, do that somewhere else.” And the boy’s always feeling like ugh, okay, I’ll go somewhere else and do it. But he’s always being shooed away and he’s annoying everybody. And the boy’s father is always performing magic. Doing things that frighten people, or again, maybe just annoy people. Something goes missing. Something strange happens and people want to blame the father for it. And there’s also this attitude of like, okay you need to leave us alone, or we don’t want him here because he’s always dabbling in magic. 

Eventually, the boy and his father cross a line and really piss people off. I wonder what they did. Like, maybe the boy was playing some music while the father cursed someone in the village, or maybe there was some sort of sacfrice or extreme thing that people thought was too far, or maybe the boy just didn’t stop playing. Maybe he didn’t leave when they told him to leave. He was just hanging out and being really annoying and that was tooo much. Whatever. Whatever happened, it’s funny to imagine this because we can think of it happening today, right? What could someone do that gets them kicked out of town? And that’s what happened to these two. They got excommunicated. They were asked to leave. People fear what they can’t understand.

Away from the village to pass the time, until bedtime, you know they’re not in their home, they’re away, they’re in an unfamiliar place. And maybe not just to pass the time, maybe to scare the little boy into staying close and behaving, and being protected. The boy’s father told him the story of Abiyoyo. 

Abiyoyo is this giant. A monster, maybe? He eats children and families and sheep. ANd there was a song about this giant, that goes, “Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo.” 

This song kind of has a lullaby quality. It’s sweet, and soothing, which makes me think maybe this is protection. Right? If you sing this song, you’ll be safe from Abiyoyo. But this song also serves as a warning. It’s a reminder that you can’t rest too easy, there’s something dangerous there. 

The next morning, the boy and his father woke to the ground shaking. A giant walking. It was Abiyoyo. The boy and his father worked together with music and magic. Dancing, and playing the instrument. The boy caught Abiyoyo’s attention, and he sang Abiyoyo’s name again and again. “Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo.” The gian was enamoured, and it began to dance and make a low and loud sound that shook the earth. Maybe its own way to try and sing. “Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo. Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo.” As Abiyoyo was spinning and twirling, groaning and stomping, the boy’s father cast his magic. Abiyoyo, caught in the transe of the song and the spell of the father’s, disappeared.  

One wonders about this kind of magic. Is the giant transported to another land, better or worse than this one? Does the giant continue to spin and dance here, only now unseen by us? Is the giant really and truly gone forever?

It’s hard to know. All we have is this… “Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo, Abiyoyo.”

Finale: Does music protect us?

Does music protect us, or cast us into harm’s way? Will it keep away the demons, or invite them in? What are the consequences of making music, and letting ourselves be fully encompassed by these powerful sounds? Who’s out there, lookin’ for a soul to steal?

Music: Danse Macabre Piano Transcription for Four Hands performed by the JJ Piano Duo Gloria Hyun Jung Kim and Si Yeon Yoo for the ODIN International music competition in 2021

Thank you so much for listening to this first episode of Earth Noise. I hope if nothing else, you heard a song that is new to you today, and can tug at that thread as we begin to unravel other stories. 

If you like this podcast, please check out my other work. You can follow me on instagram @kelsey_georgesen. Or you can explore my online piano classes and workshops at kelseygeorgesen.com, spelled the same, just the website. You can find that link and other resources in the show notes. If you loved this podcast, please leave a review, or even more powerfully, recommend this to a friend. I know all of my favorite podcasts I’ve found by someone going, “Have you heard… Have you heard this new podcast?” So, please share my work with other people in your life if you like it. It really means a lot to me, and I am so excited to finally be doing this. 

I would like to thank Anthony Rideout for being a guest musician on today’s episode, and for all of his contributions to this podcast. 

Right now you are listening to the “Danse Macabre” piano transcription for four hands performed by the JJ Piano Duo Gloria Hyun Jung Kim and Si Yeon Yoo for for the  ODIN International music competition in 2021. 

All of the music used in this podcast is either public domain, available under a Creative Commons license, or has been licensed and approved for use by BMI. Thank you for listening. 

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