"Ask Me Nice" by Mose Allison
Who said that being humble means you also can’t have nice things?
“I just got here, day 'fore yesterday / It won't be long and I'll be on my way / These few days that I'll be round / Please don't try to bring me down”
There was only one Mose. At his peak he was untouchable, with lines like “Your mind is on vacation and your mouth is working overtime”, “Meet me at no special place, and I’ll be there at no particular time”, as well as my personal favorite: “I don’t worry ‘bout a thing ‘cause I know nothing’s gonna be alright”.
“Ask Me Nice” was in my road set when I first went out with my cello. I’d walk the bass line and use this song to tell people that I was just passing through, that I meant no harm, hoping that they wouldn’t give me a hard time about my life choices.
“I made my entrance on the Greyhound bus / I don't intend to cause a fuss / 'F you like my style, that's fine with me / Then if you don't, just let me be”
It’s corny as hell, but somehow he gets away with it. Mose was a total nerd. His piano playing doesn’t really get imitated much. I find it hard to enjoy, even though he turned out some genius phrases. There’s a density that weighs down the groove. When he dialed up the intensity it bordered on unlistenable, but you hear an incredibly restless mind at work.
I prefer the poise of his earlier cuts, like “Ask Me Nice”:
“I don't claim to be so great / I'm no pace setter, no potentate / I've got some kids, I've got a wife / I'm just tryin' to swing my way through life”
If you saw my earlier post about monosyllables, then you know how much I revere them. There’s so much power in the right array of two-cent words. “Ask Me Nice” is another such song, but here in the middle of it he drops the word potentate! Like he’s been trying to hypnotize you with the simplicity, but he ain’t stupid and he doesn’t want you to be either. What a gift, this line.
“So don't try t' make me what I'm not / I just get by with what I've got / Live, let live, that's my advice / If you've got questions, ask me nice”
Mose’s songs are almost haiku-like in how much they’ll convey inside of a strict form. Blues artists worldwide have melted quite a bit of gold out of these here rocks. Like it or not, Mose is in the pantheon. A moody white kid from Mississippi who made good in the deepest artform out there, the blues.
“I'm not the first, I'm not the most / Of this town I am not the toast / I'm gettin' older every day / I'm just tryin' to swing a little in my way”
I wish the world had more artists like Mose. What I love most about this song is the humility: it’s self-possessed and full of joy. Who said that being humble means you also can’t have nice things? This song cuts nimbly to the core of a fundamental tension in American music: in order to have the right to make music, you must first prove your worth and your talent to others. It boils down to “go big or go home”, it’s baked in to the fabric of our musical existence here, and I hate it because it’s pure poison.
The moment some kid in America discovers the fun, innocent act of musicmaking - one of the most basic and abundant psychoelectric phenomena given to us by God, a gift that knows no end, one that is completely free for absolutely anyone to engage in - US citizens of every stripe will line up to project our collective repressions upon their tender, eager soul:
“Who knows, maybe someday you’ll become famous and we’ll all get to hear you on the big stages…”
“Remember us little people when you hit the big time…”
Or maybe they are less kind:
“Don’t waste your time, music might be fun when you’re young but it ain’t a living…”
“Looks like all you want is sex, drugs and rocknroll…”
“Oh, so you think you’re good enough? Better than the rest of us?”
There’s an idea imposed with this stuff - totally fake and unnecessary - that you have to win some contest, redeem yourself, make it ‘big’ in order for your musical life to be worth anything. Like the sound of one hand clapping, any music made in America without a large audience paying attention to it might as well not exist at all.
But on the other hand, if you do somehow ‘make it’, then you’ll supposedly get a pass on life that nobody else gets. You’ll enjoy riches and indulgences without limit or consequence, in the mind of America. You will have “made it” out of the crab bucket of regular citizens, to be revered like a god (eventually to likely be crucified like one).
It smacks of Puritanism, but we never question it.
A musical kid in a supportive family becomes a kind of cultural lottery ticket, as one of my struggling parents told me more than once, to justify the cost of my music lessons:
“I know you’ll take good care of me when you get that first $200,000 recording contract…”
Quaintly forgivable in context, maybe, but let’s all throw all of that out. It’s all a diversion. Making music should be as basic an activity, for everyone, as jogging around the block or telling each other stories. Music is uncontainable, like water. It’s here for everyone. It is your right to sing, to play, to dance.
Unfortunately our music scene/industry here in America is just as corrupt, dysfunctional and toxic as our healthcare industry. We don’t examine it as much, but it affects you more than you know. At the end of the day our musical health, just like our physical health, comes down to the choices we make. Music might not be “a living”, but a life without music ain’t living at all.
I’d love for us to be more like the guy in this song:
“So don't try t' make me what I'm not / I just get by with what I've got / Live, let live, that's my advice / If you've got questions, ask me nice”
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