"Home on the Range" by Neil Young, from the film soundtrack for "Where the Buffalo Roam." This is my twist on Uncle Abbey’s version of the lyrics, which can be read in his poetry collection "Earth Apples":
A Prairie Tune After Abbey
Oh give me a home
Where the buffalo roam
& the deer & the pronghorn play.
Where seldom is heard
A bellowing beef herd
& the cowpies don’t stink all day.
Oh give me a home
Where the wapiti roam
& the deer & the prairie dogs play.
Where seldom is seen
A Hereford or Holstein
& the horse flies don’t bite all day.
Now we come home with “The Red Hills of Utah,” the last in my Marty Robbins nature song trilogy.
"The Bend in the River," also by Marty Robbins. Another nature song and a great capture of pastoral wandering. You see why native Californians, for one, called the whites "wanderers"—to them they appeared homeless.
"Man Walks among Us," one of the great nature songs by Arizona’s favorite son (after Goldwater?). When someone spouts the inanity, "I love all music—except country," just reply "Marty. Robbins."
Cal Tjader’s “Spring Is Here.” Shame on me for thinking of spring.
The music of Kakaar. Told a friend contemplating food autonomy and live chickens, “Try quail.” Hell, roadrunners. Why turn your backyard into a barnyard when you can rewild with a native garden of local plants/game and feed yourself, killing two valley quails with one stone? Small-scale, front and back lawns can go native. Larger scale, you have fire-stick “farms” of indigenous species—not chickens or pigs but quails and brushrabbits. Restoration ecology = “backfarming.” And yes, there’s a predators tax. Would prefer my friendly neighborhood coyote snatch a housecat, but if one of my hypothetical quail, so be it. I imagine my childhood home rewilded, renative’d, then donated to the local conservancy upon death. We feed ourselves and restore habitat, slowly reconverting real estate into rhizomes.
"Have a Lucky Day" by Morphine. A very fat sound and a band that understood Gambler’s Way.
The great vibraphonist and Latinista, Cal Tjader, performing “Fresh Air.”
"She Looks Like a Tree with Flowers," by the Hiwi, People of the Savannah, in Colombia and Venezuela.
"We Have Survived" by No Fixed Address, an anthem for the indigenous anywhere and downright deadly!