Concow
Songs of the California Indians
Collected by Coyote Man
Copyright ©1975 by Coyote Man
The Maidu Indians live in the northern Sierra Nevadas of California and in the adjacent Sacramento Valley. Anthropologists have divided the Maidu who live in the Sierra Nevadas into three major groups: the Mountain Maidu, who live along the edges of mixed coniferous forests
in what now is Plumas and part of Lassen County; the Concow, who live in the foothills and mountains of Butte County; and the Nisenan who live in the oak parklands of Yuba, Placer, Sacramento, Nevada, and parts of Sierra and El Dorado Counties.
For many thousands of years the Maidu lived in the same place. Their way of life changed but slowly. The great stability and depth of the Maidu material culture, coupled with the simplicity of their musical instruments and their relative isolation in the vastness of the
Sierras, suggests that Maidu music reaches deep into mankind's archaic past.
Maidu singers generally use a relaxed and nonpulsating vocal technique. And, compared with Native American songs from other musical areas, they sing large amounts of music with an unchanging beat and with a simple rhythmic organization. The music also has characteristic
sequences and syncopations. A rise, a section of song with a higher pitch–a kind of musical plateau–can be heard in some of the songs. This rise can be one of three varieties: 1) no higher than the rest of the song but the melodic movement stays around the high tone of the
range already established, 2) both higher and different from the nonrise part of the song, and 3) a transposition, frequently of an octave or a perfect fifth, of the non-rise part of the song. The scale of Maidu music is the series of pitches actually used that are not duplicated in another octave. Most Maidu songs, moreover, have a small range, averaging only five or six tones, many less. Maidu songs from the adjacent Sacramento Valley, studied by Densmore, resembled other Native American songs in beginning in double time, but she found that they have a more direct attack in that a larger portion begin on the accented part of the measure.
The basic vehicle of Maidu music is the human voice. But Maidu songs are frequently accompanied by one or more musical instruments. Some of these musical instruments unfortunately are no longer being played. These discarded instruments include the hunting bow, which was reportedly tapped with an arrow; a skin drum, which the Concow stretched between tree branches; a bullroarer, which the Concow used to cause snow to fall; a flageolet or elder flute, which the Maidu played for amusement; baskets which were either drummed or scraped (the
Maidu were fine basketmakers), and abalone shell pendants, which were worn on certain dance outfits and made a fine tinkling noise. The Maidu also quit using birdbone whistles and the footdrum, but these have recently been reintroduced by the Maidu themselves (Band 8, song 1). They have retained, however, most of their idiophones, which combine in one element the properties of vibrators and resonators. These include clappers, rasps, rattles, sticks, jingles
and so on. There has also been some borrowing of occidental musical instruments; namely the fiddle and guitar, both of which on occasion have been used to play Maidu tunes.
At the time the songs in this record were collected (1965-74), most of the singers lived in scattered houses in the mountains. Some, however, lived in towns and cities adjacent to the Sierras. All of the Maidu now speak English fluently.
Many of the younger singers take shortcuts in the words of the songs and leave out the "Indian twists." But this is not so important, as many Maidu songs never had meaningful words-and many other songs had archaic words whose meanings were known only to a few. In other words, the songs can exert the same effect upon an English-speaking person as they can upon a person who speaks fluent Maidu. The full effects of the music can only be gained by performing it, however.
A good singer, the Maidu believe, should be able to sing both high and low and be able to produce a musical tone like a bell ringing. They should be able to sing loudly for a long time also. The old-time singers sing from deep within their chests rather than higher up in their throats as singers often do in recent years. Maidu songs usually have a slow beat. But, in recent years, the singers have tended to sing faster. Nonetheless, Maidu music yet has a distinct stamp that differentiates it from the music of any other peoples. After 125 years of repression, the Maidu are still singing. And it is certainly possible that four thousand years from now people in the Sierras will still sing homage to the acorn.
in what now is Plumas and part of Lassen County; the Concow, who live in the foothills and mountains of Butte County; and the Nisenan who live in the oak parklands of Yuba, Placer, Sacramento, Nevada, and parts of Sierra and El Dorado Counties.
For many thousands of years the Maidu lived in the same place. Their way of life changed but slowly. The great stability and depth of the Maidu material culture, coupled with the simplicity of their musical instruments and their relative isolation in the vastness of the
Sierras, suggests that Maidu music reaches deep into mankind's archaic past.
Maidu singers generally use a relaxed and nonpulsating vocal technique. And, compared with Native American songs from other musical areas, they sing large amounts of music with an unchanging beat and with a simple rhythmic organization. The music also has characteristic
sequences and syncopations. A rise, a section of song with a higher pitch–a kind of musical plateau–can be heard in some of the songs. This rise can be one of three varieties: 1) no higher than the rest of the song but the melodic movement stays around the high tone of the
range already established, 2) both higher and different from the nonrise part of the song, and 3) a transposition, frequently of an octave or a perfect fifth, of the non-rise part of the song. The scale of Maidu music is the series of pitches actually used that are not duplicated in another octave. Most Maidu songs, moreover, have a small range, averaging only five or six tones, many less. Maidu songs from the adjacent Sacramento Valley, studied by Densmore, resembled other Native American songs in beginning in double time, but she found that they have a more direct attack in that a larger portion begin on the accented part of the measure.
The basic vehicle of Maidu music is the human voice. But Maidu songs are frequently accompanied by one or more musical instruments. Some of these musical instruments unfortunately are no longer being played. These discarded instruments include the hunting bow, which was reportedly tapped with an arrow; a skin drum, which the Concow stretched between tree branches; a bullroarer, which the Concow used to cause snow to fall; a flageolet or elder flute, which the Maidu played for amusement; baskets which were either drummed or scraped (the
Maidu were fine basketmakers), and abalone shell pendants, which were worn on certain dance outfits and made a fine tinkling noise. The Maidu also quit using birdbone whistles and the footdrum, but these have recently been reintroduced by the Maidu themselves (Band 8, song 1). They have retained, however, most of their idiophones, which combine in one element the properties of vibrators and resonators. These include clappers, rasps, rattles, sticks, jingles
and so on. There has also been some borrowing of occidental musical instruments; namely the fiddle and guitar, both of which on occasion have been used to play Maidu tunes.
At the time the songs in this record were collected (1965-74), most of the singers lived in scattered houses in the mountains. Some, however, lived in towns and cities adjacent to the Sierras. All of the Maidu now speak English fluently.
Many of the younger singers take shortcuts in the words of the songs and leave out the "Indian twists." But this is not so important, as many Maidu songs never had meaningful words-and many other songs had archaic words whose meanings were known only to a few. In other words, the songs can exert the same effect upon an English-speaking person as they can upon a person who speaks fluent Maidu. The full effects of the music can only be gained by performing it, however.
A good singer, the Maidu believe, should be able to sing both high and low and be able to produce a musical tone like a bell ringing. They should be able to sing loudly for a long time also. The old-time singers sing from deep within their chests rather than higher up in their throats as singers often do in recent years. Maidu songs usually have a slow beat. But, in recent years, the singers have tended to sing faster. Nonetheless, Maidu music yet has a distinct stamp that differentiates it from the music of any other peoples. After 125 years of repression, the Maidu are still singing. And it is certainly possible that four thousand years from now people in the Sierras will still sing homage to the acorn.
Play song |
Name |
Performed by |
Description |
Native Words |
Translation |
Notes |
 |
Grizzly's Song | Rex Edwards | The grizzly bear has been extinct in the Northern Sierras for several generations. But Rex still remembered grizzly's song. The rhythm suggests the lumbering, off-center swaying of the massive animal. This song probably came from a now forgotten story. | Concow | ||
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Ringtail's Song II | Bryon Beavers | Ringtail (chelicheli) can sometimes be heard softly singing a song, as he looks for his favorite food–red waterdogs (California newts). Toward the end of his song Ringtail trills. | Concow | ||
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Mouses Song | Rex Edwards | Once the Animal-people, who lived in the Sierra Nevadas, had no fire. Things were pretty tough so they decided to steal fire from the Bird people, who lived across the Great Valley in the Coast Range. The Birds lived together in a big dance house those days: Red Tailed Hawk, Owl, all the birds. One by one the animals tried to get at the fire and failed. Late at night, while everyone else slept, little mouse snuck in. He filled his elder flute with hot coals and chewed up everything before he left. As he ran back with his loot he sang about the trails he took:Brushy trail, I'm hereRex remembered a bit of the song mouse sang as he took that hot coal along, going over the Coast Range. The rhythm and tone evokes a frightened, running mouse. In the old days people could recall "hundreds" of songs that mouse sang. |
Concow | ||
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Ringtail's Song I | Rex Edwards | Ringtail is a shy nocturnal animal, who hunts at night along the creeks and rivers of the Sierras. | Concow | ||
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Fat Ground Squirrels Song To Coyote | Bron Beavers | Once animals talked just as we humans do now. In this song, the old Devil, in Coyote form, looks at a fat ground squirrel, sunning on a rock. Saliva runs down his jaws. Ground Squirrel sings: Coyote, old man. We're awful fat. Eat us. Eat us."Who me?" asks the Coyote. "I'm not Coyote at all. I'm someone altogether different. I'm Toyote–your friend." All the time Coyote is working his way toward Ground Squirrel. |
Concow | ||
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Weda Song | Alta Fitch | The words mean: spring ceremony, stretch acorn bread. | Concow | ||
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Acorn Blossoms I | Alta Fitch | In the spring, black oaks, or rather the spirit behind the oaks, were sung to, to assure an abundant harvest of acorns, the principle food of the Concow. | Concow | ||
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Acorn Blossoms II | Frank Day | Baskets formed such an important part of the life of the ancient peoples of the Sierras that it is not surprising that they also used baskets as a musical instrument. Sometimes a Mountain Maidu would hold a basket in the air and beat it with sticks to accompany songs. The Nisenan are said to have scraped their baskets with sticks using them much like a rasp. The use of this unique instrument, the basket, has almost been forgotten. Fortunately, however, Frank Day was given a basket song by Henry Clay, one of the last Captains among the Concow and Frank agreed to sing it for us. The acorn was the principal food of the Maidu and Frank believes that it is the mightiest thing to thank the spirits for. In the old days the Concow would sometimes stay all night in a dance house and pray for an abundant acorn crop. They would pull smoke-darkened hides over the smokehole and cover the fire to darken the lodge. As the evening progressed they would begin singing basket songs. Captain Henry Clay and Frank's father, Captain Billy Day, would sing about acorn blossoms. Henry would start the song and then he would chant: he?okoj–that means carry on–and Billy Day would take over. They talk in the song that way. One sings and the other follows. One day Henry sang the acorn song and said, "Frank, that's all I can give you"–that meant he gave Frank his song. Frank had to repeat the song for a long time while Henry listened. Frank sang: ?ytirn jo jekunnaj?ytim jo also means the season when the oaks bloom–that is, spring. When Frank sings the acorn song he is in effect planting the acorns. And, by singing, he brings the oak up from a small tree to a big tree. He sings until the oaks do bloom. The song goes up and down. As the song goes up the oaks bloom. When Frank raises his voice he builds up the song; then another singer takes over and lets the song down again. When the song drops, one (so to speak) comes back down to eat (acorn soup). All the Concow used to sing that way. The higher they would go the closer they would get to the truth. The singers would have to repeat he phrases ten or fifteen times so people would understand what they mean–young, old, everybody would know what they were driving at. Finally, the singer would go up high in the song to get it into everyone's thoughts and then come down again and end the song by singing he ?o he. Then he would repeat the same song two or three times and say he ?o he on the end. And only then change to another song. After which they would build up the fire and rest and smoke. Then, they would again cover the fire and back they would go. In the dark of the night a singer might sing into a small basket half filled with water. He would hum and then immerse his face in the water, making a bubbling sound. This is a way of calling upon the god, whose name cannot be pronounced in any human tongue. Humming in the water is the spiritual part: it makes things act–maybe a whirlwind comes or darkness comes. But all you hear is a bubbling water sound. Singers carry their voice a little bit differently in a basket song. On this record Frank is teaching anthropologist Don Jewell how to sing a basket song. Frank told Don, "When I stop you follow. Then when you are closing, I say jekunnaj. I keep singing and you follow in just a little faster and we end together. And," Frank said, "I bless every song that I sing." When Frank sang the basket song, he touched the tips of his thumb and ring finger together, at the same time extending his index and middle fingers while his other hand clasped the basket. Frank said they used to use a large basket, the kind the Captains drink acorn soup out of. And then Frank rapped the basket; the nails of his conjoined thumb and ring finger tapped the bottom while at the same time the pads of his extended Angers rapped its side. When a large basket is tapped in the dome-shaped dance house the sound carries all over. |
Concow | ||
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Grasshopper Song | Alta Fitch | The music mimics the fluttering and hopping of grasshoppers (?ene). This song was probably sung during the girls' puberty rites. | Concow | ||
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Manzanita Blossoms | Alta Fitch | Manzanita berries were an important food of the Concow. This is a spring song. This song is sung by pulpum, a small black wasp that flits about manzanita blossoms. The words go:manzanita blossom (translation by Roy Scott) |
Concow | ||
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War Dance | Alta Fitch | These dances were banned by the Federal Government many years ago; consequently, little is remembered of them. This song evokes the stomping of feet. Compare the rhythm with that in the next song. | Concow | ||
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Courting Song | Bryon Beavers | When Lew was a good-looking young man, both Ellen and Nellie wanted him. Whenever he was about they would walk around chanting:Be my sweetheart Lew teeteeLove songs curiously like this are found in many remote and widely separated parts of the world. |
Concow | ||
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Doctor Charlie's Shaman's Song | Bryon Beavers | If someone were sick we would not know the cause for illness were it not for the doctor. Concow doctors go to the sacred ceremonies either to bless or curse: one for joy and the other for sadness-it has to come one way or the other. Doctors are not going there for fun. During healing ceremony, the doctor comes in and sings, "I'm just an ordinary person, here to get a cure for this person." Then he switches to a different song that carries a different tone. He might then sing, "Here I stand as a man before the river." And he would finish that song. And he might go on and sing, "Now I plunge into the water ... Now I'm washing clean"-all in the song, he is not actually doing that. "Here, I come out dripping wet," he says, "which represents the tears I have because I have so much sorrow in my heart for this man." Then he might sing, "Now, I don't know in what way this person can be cured unless I can reach you (the spirit)." The doctor looks for a sign–everything gives a sign, which the Concow follow. Maybe around midnight, in the darkest part of the night, when the firelight burns the brightest in the dance house, the doctor will come to a place where he can sing didirect songs. By that time he feels he finished sort of a course through which he purifies himself. He does it all in song-not in motion or in action, not by talking, just by song. Bryon recalled that one such seance resulted when "Wasako's uncle Steve Wilson, and two doctors from Susanville all got together and poisoned Bryon's grandfather. Bryon said, "Old injin Doctor Charlie from Pulga, pretty nearly blind, went over to doctor him. He backed right off. 'You know better than that!' Doctor Charlie said. 'You always tell people everything fake–like you said you were going to die on the Fourth of July. And these other doctors went ahead and poisoned you for that. I don't know if I have enough power to help you or not'-Wasako's dying, faint, awful faint. So the old doctor tried to do what he could. And he sang this song . . ." At this point, Bryon rubs his hands together and begins singing. In the middle of the song Bryon gives a huslauwi, a sharp blowing sound. Bryon's huslauwi's protect him from any bad spirits he might attract. "Sometimes," Bryon says, "the spirit doctor goes along in this foreign tongue business, spirit business. Then he picks up again and goes on. You understand so much and then he goes back into tongues again. And then he again picks up. The doctor would talk about where he is going: over this hill, and through these oak trees, and he sees people picking acorns or something, and deer jump out-there is always something along the way. When I listened, I could always pick up in between this tongue business and follow the doctor as he went along in his story." The Maidu have developed sophisticated methods of overcoming the tyranny of speech-making portions of mind over the rest of the human body. They frequently throw themselves into wordless states of being by singing repetitive songs over and over, thereby allowing subtle portions of the human nervous system, which are generally suppressed by the speech-making centers, to assert themselves. The human in these wordless, ecstatic states then becomes aware of aspects in himself and his world that are hidden when the logical-speech making portion of the brain dominates thinking. |
Concow | ||
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A Running Song | Starry Potts | People used to sing this song as they ran. They sing about going along the acorn trail. | Concow | ||
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Lullaby | Starry Potts | Mothers would croon this to their babies to put them asleep. The words being with "sleep, sleep my little one." | Concow | ||
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Calling The Wind | Starry Potts | Starry knows many songs to be used in controlling the weather. The upward swooshing like wind can be clearly heard in the Maidu word for wind. Starry sang this song on a still day. Immediately, the wind sprang up. | Concow | ||
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Singing For Rain | Starry Potts | This song would make it snow in the mountains and rain in the lowlands, leaving good weather where Starry was. "But it's a no good song," Starry said. "it (the ensuing floods) will kill too many people." So she really did not put too much heart into singing it. But nonetheless it rained heavily around Starry that afternoon, which was quite unusual for August in the dry Sierran foothills. Water Songs–The word momoli (water) is onomatopoetic in that it echoes the sound of running water. The root word momi occurs frequently in water songs. In the spring the Concow used to sit all night in their dance houses and wish for various kinds of food: deer, quail, acorns, manzanita berries, etc. They would outline whatever kind of food they wished for with acorn flour dough pressed against the dance house wall. The next morning the group would march out of the house single file, singing water songs all the way to the spring. There they purified themselves by washing their faces. Then it would be time to leave. Months later bits of dough could still be seen clinging to the wall. |
Concow | ||
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Water Song I | Alta Fitch | The Concow sing many water songs. Note how the word momi evokes running water. | Concow | ||
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Water Song II | Alta Fitch | Momoli momoli taj jundi (water, water in the Coast Range) is said to imitate the sound of water flowing in the Coast Range. The Concow Also have been heard to sing this song as they leave a place after playing the grass game. It was also sung by George Neigh, a famous leader of the Nisenan. This song changed just a little is used as a hand game song. | Concow | ||
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Water Song III | Alta Fitch | This is yet another example of a water song. | Concow | ||
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Water Song IV | Bryon Beavers | Compare this with the above song. Bryon said if the rhythm of this song were slightly changed it could be used as a dance song and if it were changed again it could be used as a grass game song. | Concow | ||
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Chelkto's Grass Game Song | Bryon Beavers | One day, while Chelekto was fishing on the Feather River across from the mouth of Newton Creek, he thought he heard a little voice singing. He traced the song to a rock. When he lifted the rock he found a hellgrammite under it and picked up the bug. Hellgrammite said, "if you don't kill me, if you don't use me for bait, I'll teach you a song." Chelekto said, "All right." And this is the song Chelekto learned. Bryon and his brother, Chelekto, used to sing the song together. It's a good song too. They could sing it all night without getting tired. |
Concow | ||
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Wasekos Grass Game Song | Bryon Beavers | Waseko and Bryon were close friends. Bryon says they could play any gambling song on an elder flute and that he used to play gambling songs on a guitar too. Some can be turned into dance time. Compare this song with the next, which is the same song used as a dance. | Concow | ||
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Coyote Dance | Bryon Beavers | "When they sing the Coyote Dance anybody can dance any kind of way–they go all kinds of different ways," says Bryon. "You put in one step and another fellow is doing another kind of step–that's the Coyote Dance: all mixed up." | Concow | ||
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Dick Harry's Grass Game Song | Bryon Beavers | Dick Harry was one of the last Captains of the Concow. His gambling song is considered to be an especially hard one to sing. Rex thought he was the only one left who know how to sing it. | Concow | ||
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Dick Harry's Song 1 | Bryon Beavers | Bryon said, "Dick Harry had an awful deep voice-when he sang you didn't know what you wanted to do-gamble or dance or what. He sang from way down in his chest. And I would watch and never see his lips move–just once in a while his lips moved a little. But the song came out just the same. Down kind of low but still up high-and you don't see his lips move!" | Concow | ||
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Dick Harry's Song 2 | Leland Scott | Concow | |||
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Dick Harry's Song 3 | Alta Fitch | This series of Dick Harry's song should give an idea of the variation among individual singers, who are all recognized by the Concow as being good singers. | Concow | ||
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Dick Harry's Song 4 | Here the singers' renderings differ and polyphony results. As can be heard, iterative polyphony can be quite effective. This song is frequently sung faster. In talking about old-time singers, Bryon once said, "One man would sing the melody and another one of these guys would come in lower on him, singing the same tune, but going into falsettos sometimes too. It sounded like a person trying to yodel, but it fitted in smoothly with those guys. Especially one high one–and one down low. Especially in the dance house–it made me feel funny when I heard them. I didn't know whether I wanted to cry or laugh or what." |
Concow | |||
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A Mooretown Grass Game Song | Morgan says that it's a good thing to improvise while singing grass game songs and then come back into the melody. This confuses the other side. This song, however, is quite regular. At the end of the song the Concow players lose both pairs of bones, and the opposing team, Honey Lake Paiute, start rapping pieces of lathe on a small log laid in front of them and singing one of their "fast handgame" songs. Sticks or broken pieces of lathe are occasionally rhythmically hit against a log by the Maidu to accompany grass game songs–however this practice is uncommon in the Northern Sierras. Any suitable piece of wood might be picked up and banged against another to accompany songs–on occasion even two cobbles were banged together. |
Concow | |||
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Flute Dance Song | Brian Bibby/Frank LaPena | The persistence and vitality of Maidu music is clearly illustrated in this song, which is sung by members of a contemporary Maidu dance group. The dancers form two lines facing one another. They approach one another, stand as tall as possible and then step backwards again. This is considered to be a social dance. By motion the dancers are saying, "I can play the flute better than you!" Some of the singers and dancers in this group are the grandchildren or great-grandchildren of the singers recorded in this album. The dancers have reintroduced musical instruments formerly used by the Maidu but abandoned for many years. For example, a footdrum can be heard. The footdrum is a stout hollow oak log, burned out inside, scraped and split to make a wide plank. The plank-like log is laid over a pit dug in the dance house. When it is danced upon or hit with a pole, it makes a resounding boom beating out the rhythm of the dance. The Concow and Nisenan both used the footdrum in association with their Kuksu rites, which was a society for men that was widespread in central California, but which did not reach the Mountain Maidu. Abalone shell pendants, which made a pleasing jingle, were also associated with the Kuksu cult. These modern dancers have substituted the hoofs of deer for these pendants and the alert listener may hear them knocking together during this song. The sharp, piercing whistles heard during this dance are bird bone whistles, another reintroduced musical instrument. The whistles are frequently bound together in pairs and are worn about the neck by the dancers. These whistles are of various lengths and each is capable of emitting a single piercing tone when blown. In addition to the drum, the deer hoofs and the bird bone whistles, clapsticks can be heard. These clappers are the limber kind that are held in the hand and quivered. (This song was recorded by Brian Bibby.) |
Concow |