The Coal Porters know something about England

April 1986. I had just moved to Boston for what turned out to be an illusory job with the Phoenix. A few days into my new town, I attended a double bill at the Orpheum of the Alarm and the Long Ryders, the bands were in town for a free night, so the next night I invited Mike Peters of the Alarm and Sid Griffin of the Long Ryders to a Red Sox game and afterward we went to my crappy little apartment on Comm. Ave. to listen to records. I remember Sid and I tried to get Mike to pay attention to Robert Johnson and Woody Guthrie LPs but the spiky-haired Welshman was more interested in watching MTV. Before they left, the pair recorded a demented message on my answering machine that people calling me quickly recommended I erase.

I lost touch with both of them over the years, aside from an occasional warm email or postcard exchange with Sid, but when I embarked on The Sandinista Project I knew I wanted people like Sid on board -- preferably someone so much like Sid that he was Sid. He has long since moved to England (find out about this renaissance man's many activities here), and one of his projects is the Coal Porters, a tough-minded bluegrass band. It's from the Coal Porters that we've received "Something About England," in which we learn that the Sandinista! ballad about British deterioration wanted to be an uptempo bluegrass stomp all this time. Who knew?

Sid is now writing a book about Dylan and the Band's Basement Tapes. Maybe he'll be the guy who finally figures out what "I'm Not There (1956)" is really about. If he's lucky, I won't bore him with my theory.