Biography:
Elizabeth Eaton Converse was born in Laconia, New Hampshire in 1924, the middle child of three siblings. She was bookish, the valedictorian her class at Concord High School, and described by most who knew her to be a polymath. She attended Mt. Holyoke College on an academic scholarship beginning in 1942, studied French, and wrote for several campus publications. By 1944 she decided to leave college, at which point the records of her whereabouts are sparse until about 1949, when she made her way to New York City.
There were two major developments during Elizabeth’s time in New York. The first was her procurement of her nickname “Connie.” It is unclear how or why or when exactly, but the name stuck. The second was Connie’s burgeoning interest in playing and writing music, first for guitar and later for piano. No doubt this stemmed from her love of poetry, as many of her earliest songs were poems that she had written and then set to music. The songs became instant hits with her family, and also attracted the attention of animator and amateur recordist Gene Deitch. Beginning around 1954, Connie would make visits to Deitch’s home in Hastings-on-Hudson to record almost 40 songs.
At first listen, Connie’s music seems to keep close company with the female folk artists who were her contemporaries. The knack for plaintive storytelling shares much with Peggy Seeger and Susan Reed. Reed knew Connie’s music well, and performed a set of her songs in 1961 at the Kaufmann Concert Hall in New York. But Connie’s music stands out from that of the American folk revival of the 1950’s. Her fluid and disarmingly intelligent poetry reflects an urban perspective, that of a new New Yorker becoming disenchanted by the bucolic tropes of folk music. She is at once a maverick and a romantic, intellectual and spiritual, a staunch independent and a tender, pining lover.
Over the years Deitch, along with his colleague Bill Bernal, worked to promote Connie’s music, but despite their efforts, the songs remained unheard to all but a few dozen of Connie’s acquaintances. In 1961 Connie tired of New York and left for Ann Arbor, where her brother was a professor at the University of Michigan.
Having dropped out of college seventeen years prior, it came as something of a surprise that, within months of her arrival in Ann Arbor, Connie had implanted herself firmly in the academic community of U-Mich. She began as a secretary at the Center for Research on Conflict Resolution, eventually working her way to Managing Editor and Co-Editor of CRCR’s Journal of Conflict Resolution.
Connie’s work in Ann Arbor left little time for music and, while she still happily played at family gatherings, there is little evidence that she wrote new material. She did, however, continue her attempts to promote her music already extant. Susan Reed, the folk harpist, took an interest in Connie’s work and performed a set of her songs in New York. There were a handful of scores for commercials and some work on a short film. But never the kind of widespread success she had hoped for her music.
Connie became increasingly despondent in the 1970’s, a period she described as her Blue Funk, although her family and friends say they could not detect any outward change in her character. In 1971, she requested an extended leave of absence from CRCR, citing what she saw as her poor performance at work and unspecified medical problems. Her employer responded by organizing a group of Connie’s friends and colleagues to contribute to a pool of money that would allow her to take a six-month sabbatical in England, which she would later describe as one of the only times in her life that she allowed herself to enjoy “unproductive fun.”
In August of 1974, after waiting for the resignation of Richard Nixon, Connie wrote a series of farewell letters to friends and family. She packed up her Volkswagen and disappeared, her whereabouts unknown to this day.
Film maker Andrea Kannes is currently working on a documentary about Connie. More info here: http://connieconversedoc.com/
The Clover Saloon
Connie Converse Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
a dusty, thirsty soul.
I used to keep my money
in a pocket with a hole.
I've got one ambition
like wishing for the moon:
to drink a glass of pleasure,
at the Clover Saloon.
I was settin' there one evening'
and feelin' I was straight.
A fella called me somethin'
I particularly hate.
I threw a bottle at him,
but the feller ducked to soon.
That's how I lost my credit
at the Clover Saloon.
I'm just a dusty cowhand
and, brother, I am broke.
And, brother, I'm so thirsty
I'm goin' up in smoke.
I've got one ambition
like wishing for the moon:
to drink a glass of pleasure,
four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
at the Clover Saloon.
Threw the bottle at him
and missed him like I said.
I broke the bar-room mirror
and left it there for dead.
I shot him through the middle
to make him change his tune.
That's how I lost my credit
at the Clover Saloon.
I'm just a dusty cowhand
a-waitin' for the worst.
They're hangin' me tomorrow
in the middle of my thirst.
I've got one ambition
like wishing for the moon:
to drink a glass of pleasure,
four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
at the Clover Saloon.
The Clover Saloon is a melancholic song by Connie Converse, an American musician and songwriter from New Hampshire known for her unique and introspective lyrics. The song paints a picture of a dusty cowhand who frequents a local saloon called the Clover. He laments his broken financial situation and his deep thirst for alcohol. He aspires to drink a glass of pleasure- four-measure, bulgin’ out of the glass at the Clover Saloon. The man is broke, and he feels like he is going up in smoke because of his unquenchable thirst. The Clover Saloon is his only solace, and it seems to be the only thing that could give him a sense of comfort before he faces the hangman's noose.
In the song’s second verse, he recounts an incident in the saloon where a stranger insulted him, and in retaliation, he threw a bottle at him, but he missed. The bottle broke a bar-room mirror, and in a fit of rage, he shot the stranger through the middle. This fatal mistake leads to his eventual downfall, and he is sentenced to hang the next day. The song's imagery is bleak, and the lyrics evoke a sense of despair and loneliness. Connie Converse brilliantly portrays the man's pitiful situation and his need to escape reality by seeking solace in the Clover Saloon.
Line by Line Meaning
I'm just a dusty cowhand,
I am a worn-out laborer who works with cattle.
a dusty, thirsty soul.
I am a tired and thirsty person.
I used to keep my money
In the past, I used to save my money.
in a pocket with a hole.
But my pocket was ripped and my money fell out.
I've got one ambition
I have only one desire.
like wishing for the moon:
Which is like wishing for something impossible.
to drink a glass of pleasure,
My aspiration is to drink a soothing beverage.
four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
It should be a large glass with lots to drink that overflows.
at the Clover Saloon.
I want to drink this at the Clover Saloon bar.
I was settin' there one evening'
I was sitting down once during an evening.
and feelin' I was straight.
I thought I was sober.
A fella called me somethin'
But a guy insulted me.
I particularly hate.
And I didn't like it one bit.
I threw a bottle at him,
So I took a bottle and threw it at him.
but the feller ducked to soon.
However, he evaded the projectile.
That's how I lost my credit
I lost my credibility because of this.
at the Clover Saloon.
The blame fell on the Clover Saloon.
I'm just a dusty cowhand
I am still a tired cattle worker.
and, brother, I am broke.
Additionally, I do not have much money.
And, brother, I'm so thirsty
Furthermore, I am incredibly thirsty.
I'm goin' up in smoke.
I am so thirsty that I am dying from the thirstiness.
I've got one ambition
Despite all that is happening to me,
like wishing for the moon:
I still have that one hope that may be impossible.
to drink a glass of pleasure,
And this aspiration remains; to drink a large glass of a satisfying drink
four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
That overflows and is plenty to drink.
at the Clover Saloon.
All of this should happen at the Clover Saloon pub.
Threw the bottle at him
Thinking back on my mistakes,
and missed him like I said.
I remember that I missed him with the bottle.
I broke the bar-room mirror
But I also remember that I broke a mirror in the bar.
and left it there for dead.
I abandoned it like a lost soul.
I shot him through the middle
To make matters worse,
to make him change his tune.
I shot him in the body to stop him talking back to me.
That's how I lost my credit
Inevitably, all of these actions led to me losing recognition.
at the Clover Saloon.
I became discredited at the Clover Saloon.
I'm just a dusty cowhand
In the end, I am still a tired worker of cattle.
a-waitin' for the worst.
And I am patiently waiting for the worst case scenario.
They're hangin' me tomorrow
Unfortunately, the worst has happened.
in the middle of my thirst.
I am going to die thirsty.
I've got one ambition
Despite what is going to happen to me,
like wishing for the moon:
And the one and only thing I want now is something near impossible.
to drink a glass of pleasure,
But it is still that satisfying drink,
four-measure, bulgin' out and brimmin' over
That overflows the container, and more to spare.
at the Clover Saloon.
And I will never have it because I am about to die.
Contributed by Xavier R. Suggest a correction in the comments below.