New Mexico Women in Music; 1; Joan Foreman and Sue Young

Albuquerque Action Radio presents New Mexico Women in Music. Oh, who fell? Don't she not flinch? Don't she not flush? Don't she still be quiet? Tows composer Joanne Foreman. Inspire means to breathe in. And as long as you're alive, you're breathing in everything. A very earthy analogy, everything that comes into you through your senses, through your dreams, through what you read, through what you do, through what you eat, through what you do every day, it all goes on the compost heap. It lays there, sometimes for years, and it rots, and it becomes this yeasty compost out of which, hopefully, the beautiful flowers grow. And that's really the process that hopefully results, you know, in a finished piece of music. And Albuquerque performer Sue Young.

Oh, the song feels the writer and my burden's lighter than sunshine's brighter when I'm with you. Oh, the road seems longer, but my heart is getting stronger. My days are filled with wonder when I'm with you. Basically, I just enjoy the sensation I get when I'm playing, when I'm singing. It's a really wonderful sensation. I can't describe it. There's no way to put it into words. But when I'm performing and I'm playing well and I'm singing well, it sounds beautiful. Hello, I'm Marilyn Pittman, your host for New Mexico Women in Music. Tonight, you'll hear the music and interviews of composer Joanne Foreman and performer Sue Young.

Our guests on part one of New Mexico Women in Music, a three-part series on the finest women composers, musicians, and singers in the land of Enchantment. Joanne Foreman is a composer from Tows. One of her most prominent works is a comic opera in English entitled Poly Baker. Joanne tells us how she discovered the story of Poly Baker. The opera that we're talking about this evening is not one I just wrote. I wrote it in 76, which already seems like a previous existence. And it's entitled Poly Baker. It's a very light comic opera. And I wrote it because I was browsing in the library one day, which is one of my numerous glamorous occupations. And I picked up a book and there was a sketch by one Benjamin Franklin, who was certainly not the state-old man of grammar school history books. He was quite a jolly fellow. He was very much a feminist for his times. And Poly is a story very close to, I think, any woman.

She's been wronged by an unjust society. And she defends herself with great spirit. And I read this sketch over, and then I read the editor's remark, who said, this couldn't be a trial that Franklin really witnessed, because a woman couldn't be that eloquent. That's all I needed to set me off. So I said, oh, yeah. I'll take it home and I'll make it opera out of it. So I did. What would you say is the most outstanding part of the opera? I think the principal soprano, Arya, where Poly Baker is before the bar of justice for bearing her fifth child out of wedlock. This is Circa 1773. She said a little bad luck, shall we say. But as she says, a mere mortal woman cannot sin alone. And how come I'm the one who is subject to stripes and infamy? And of course, in English common law of the 18th century,

this is not a metaphor, a woman and men too. Stripes and infamy means that a person could be strip naked to the waist, tied up, and lashed with a whip to the bone. And in many cases, this was tantamount to a death sentence, because people were flogged and died. And of course, in a case of a child born out of wedlock, it was only the woman who was subject to this, because of course, a man could get off scot free. And this is exactly what she say. How come? And the judge asks her what happens, and she answers with this Arya, which explains really the underlying fact that women are human beings, that they fall in the parlance of those times. They fall in love. They suffer the consequences, and men didn't. And I'm not really so sure it's changed very much. Women don't get flogged for burying children out of wedlock.

But the parlance of the day is, for example, those welfare mothers with their children. Did they all do it themselves? So just on this level, it's still a world of male responsibility. And she speaks up. Now Ben Franklin says that this was an actual trial that he saw and wrote down. So whether it was or something he made up in either case, he makes a point which was very advanced for his day. I mean, this is 200 some years ago. And this Arya kind of sums up the whole feel of what's in her mind and her heart. It's love of burden hard in things. All I come from the same domain, all I come from the same domain, is good in the name of life.

Her arm was gone, and learned all life. She's gone, and I dare not dare. And the way, and the way it's doshing, but in the answer, and the thing that is deep, when will the man the same? Think of mercy, think of light, think of so quick a life to light, think of my children's heart. Sounds to me like it's sort of a feminist opera. Contemporary feminist opera, question mark, can you believe that?

Why not? Why not? I must say that as I get older, I am not getting mellower. I'm getting more impatient. And of course, one of the things that anybody does in any art medium is you are getting it all out, letting it all hang loose, and that includes a lot of anger, and a lot of questions about how come, thus and so and thus and so. And opera today tends to be regarded as something that doesn't have any relation to real life. And of course, that is the exact opposite of the truth, because opera deals with raw human emotion, think of Carmen, or Tristan and Assoldo, or Latravieta, love, hate, death, fear, revenge. I mean, this is real human emotion and the most basic strip-down level in a way that really doesn't work with as much emotional impact in a straight play.

I mean, it's obvious that music has an emotional impact that no other art has. For sure, probably my pater friends and my poet friends would argue, but I'm the one who's got the mic now. Do you think that this kind of work, that you've just written, will make opera more accessible to people who would never have gone to opera? Oh, opera, oh boy, yeah. This is something maybe they can relate to. It's in English, it's contemporary. I certainly hope so. The people who have seen every performance of the opera since day one, they know opera. They don't, you know, it's not special to them. But the kind of audience where, for example, a high school student will come up after the performance and say, geez, that was really good. I liked that. That's where it's at for me. People ask, you know, what, how do you choose poetry to set to music? All I can say is that I'm constantly reading poetry. You know, ransacking the world, looking for poetry.

In English, Spanish, or German, is the languages I've used so far. And all I can say is that when I open a book and I read a poem, it just, it just rises off the page. That's all I can say. And the E.E. Cummings wrote, divine, in the truest sense of the word, divine poetry. At the end of the third song of the cycle, he talks about death, which is a pathway through time and space to something else. And he says, now the ears of my ears awake. And now the eyes of my eyes are opened. And that's, I mean, that's divine poetry. And I set three of the songs, in time of death for Dills Who Know, Maggie and Million, Molly and May. And I thank you God for most of this amazing. Of course, the E.E. Cummings was famous for his strange titles and, you know, strange topography.

But that's all I can say is they just, they grab you. And they were, I think, very beautifully recorded by Kristen Wilson, who you also heard a while ago in the Aria. She lives right here in Albuquerque. And I am of the opinion, one of the great sopranos of our time. These were recorded right here in Albuquerque, on the Opus I label, right here in Keller Hall. And it's with the accompaniment is by Jeffrey Butcher on Oregon, and Carlos Scaletti on harp. Maggie and Million, Molly and May went down to the beach to play Monday. And Maggie discovered a shell that sang so sweetly. She couldn't dream and heard her troubles.

With fingers were, and Molly was chased by a horrible thing. Which really cybers were blowing bubbles, and they keep on with a slow, slow storm, as well as the world, and there's a lot of bells out there. Or whatever we use, like a rural leaf. It's always a source that we find in the sea. How long does it take you to write a piece of music? Ah, the $64 million question. The only answer to that is people ask this all the time, and usually in the sense of how long does it take to write a song.

And I always say, usually 20 minutes, or all my life. Well, you've just written an opera. Produce yourself, it sounds like. Well, I'm hoping. I have a five-year play, just like Chairman Mao. I'm hoping to be out of production and administrative work, and another four years and some months when I will be 50, God, help me. And I would like not to be doing that. But I think it's a situation which many people in all the arts face is not knocking in my door. The New York Philharmonic is not kneeling before me, begging me to do things. If you want it done, you do it yourself. What are your alternatives for getting more widely known? The alternatives for living composers are some better than they used to be, but it's very difficult. You yell and scream and jump up and down and keep working and make yourself known in every way that you can.

And it's process that in some ways is not good because every moment that I'm doing something else, I'm not writing music. In some ways it is a good process because to write music or paint pictures or write poetry and put it in the drawer is not real. It's only the confrontation with the public that really makes it real as far as I'm concerned. What about as a woman composer, contemporary woman composer in the world? Are there any special difficulties you find there? How many things can we talk? It is very difficult. And any woman who says, oh, well, I've never had any problems, is either kidding herself or kidding you or both. It's the same in the classical music world as it is everywhere. It's very hard because men are organized to get out of high school and begin work. Women are still organized to get out of high school

and go look for a husband, et cetera, et cetera, children, et cetera. I mean, none of this is new. It is changing, but how long go, Lord? And I look at my own daughter who's 20 years old and a woman of her generation to which you belong. And I say, wow, it's marvelous. I admire what you're doing. I wish I had been doing it in my middle 20s. And I say that your freedom is built on our bones as it were, you know, the freedom that we have fought for. And I think that the traditional so-called feminine virtues of modesty and so on will get you exactly nowhere. What will get you somewhere? Taking yourself seriously, respecting your own work, not saying, I'm the greatest composer in the history of the world because that's never true. But saying, I have something to offer. I do it to the best of my ability.

It deserves a hearing. Part of the difficulty is that very few men will say, well, I'm not going to take your work seriously because you're a woman. You know, it gets more sneaky as time goes on. And men themselves may not be aware of what their real feelings are. So it's a very, very tricky thing. On the other hand, the one or two most important people in my development's composer have been men who have been extremely supportive, who have been extremely helpful, extremely valuable in technical matters, in encouragement. So you can't say, you know, men are beasts, which I say in my opera, or men are angels, they're human beings like the rest of us. But, uh, tade easy. I thank you, come, for most this amazing day, for the living dream, spirit of dreams,

and the blue, true dream of sky, and for a living dream, which is natural, which is infinite, which is rare. I, who have died, am alive again today, and this is the perfect thing. This is the perfect day of life, and of the dream, and of the deep dream, and of the deep dream, and of the blue.

How should tasting touch me, living, living, living, living, living, living? Now, love, living for the love of you. Now, here, upon your way, and for the life of me. What are you going to do next?

Oh, God. Well, the next thing I'm going to do is a solo flute piece for an informal concert in Tows on Saturday, April 12th. It's an afternoon concert following a business meeting of the New Mexico Women's Composers Guild, particularly because we are in New Mexico, which is certainly not yet a musical center like New York or California. I feel that women need to get together to present work to support each other, perhaps further along the line to think about recording and publishing opportunities, because it's hard for all composers, and it's just harder for women. Look at any concert program, anywhere in the world, look at any recording catalog, look at any publishers' catalog, and women are one percent, maybe. And, you know, in this connection,

Opus One, which is a small record label that does only contemporary music proportionately, has recorded more music by women than probably any record label in the world. And you see, this is why I'm saying you can't say all men are awful, because this record label is run by a man, Max Schubel, and he is extremely supportive of women in music. What's your next five-year or ten-year plan? Write more operas. Do you really want a list of everything I work? You have it all planned out? Well, I don't have a plan out until I'm 85, but I've got a number of things planned out. I don't know what other composers do. I think we all work pretty much alike. I tend to work on a number of things, so that if I, you know, I get to a block on what I can pick up something else, and of course things are in various stages, and one is dealing not only with the full-time job of composing the thing, but then also the problem of getting it performed, getting it published, getting it recorded, contracts, grants, I mean, just endless hassles.

And if there's a manager out there who'd like to take this all on speak to me, very few composers I think accept the very well-known and have managers, because there's not enough money in it. You know, so you do it yourself. What I really like, which I really like, is I want to put in my doorway a wicket about two inches wide, you know, a little sliding door, like they used to have in convents. And once a month I'd like to have the messenger knock on the door and I'd slide open the wicket, hand the manuscript out, and when it get automatically performed, published and recorded, it doesn't happen that way. So, do you have a hermit nature? It varies. I have a hermit nature when I'm in Tells, and when I go crazy from being a hermit, I come to Albuquerque, and go crazy, because it's getting to be a very big city, or I go east, or I go to Mexico, or I'm planning a trip to Europe sometime in the next two years,

and travel very intensively. So it, you know, it ebbs, ebbs and flows, but Tows is heaven. That's what they say. Tows is heaven. I thank the goddess on my knees every morning for being there. It's beautiful, and it's quiet. Joanne Foreman, contemporary composer, and a real character. Our first guest on tonight's New Mexico Women in Music. In the second half of part one, we're talking to Albuquerque singer, songwriter, and guitarist Su Young, and playing some of her best music. Let's start off with one of Su's original compositions. It's called What I'm With You.

Things have never been quite the same, from the blue of the sky to the smell of rain. Every little thing began to change, and the song feels a writer, and my burden's lighter, and the sunshine's brighter when I'm with you. Oh, the road seems longer, but my heart is getting stronger. My days are filled with wonder when I'm with you. Oh, I'll keep going. Why don't you have my doubts no- tää'roundy?

I'll be here to give myself totally, but when I'm in your arms, Feelings just go, no, you love who makes me high and takes me right up off the ground So I won't stop trying till I fail Wait, love you and still be free Because the sun feels the right rain my burden's lighter in the sunshine's brighter when I'm with you The road seems longer my heart is getting stronger My days are filled with wonder when I'm with you, when I'm with you Sue Young, thank you Recorded live on March 8, 1980 at the International Women's Day Music Festival in Santa Fe Sue Young used to be with the trio Medicano and is now a solo performer in New Mexico whose music is a combination of contemporary folk music from North, South, and Central America and her own compositions

She's been playing music most of her life. She has the distinction of having a purely natural singing voice Tonight we'll be listening to more music from Sue Right now, here is Sue Young talking about songwriting When did you start writing your own music? I started writing my own music And see, probably about five or six years ago Really when I started performing And what were your first compositions like? What kind of things did you write about? Oh, they were all about really unhappy love affairs So we're supposed to write about, right? Right, right, right You know, like, why doesn't these see me type of things? Was that coming from your guts or was that something you thought you should write about? Well, that was something I was experiencing at that point But that was also Well, I don't know, it's hard to say It was something that I was feeling And how has that changed? How has your songwriting changed from five years ago?

What kinds of things do you find yourself inspired to write about now? Well, I think now that I'm looking a little bit more outside myself to other things that are happening and to other people Which pleases me, it's not such an introverted thing anymore It's not just like me, me, me You know, and I'm trying to keep moving in that direction What kind of songs are you writing lately? I actually haven't written any songs for about the past six months Why haven't you written in six months? What's keeping you from that? I don't know, I don't write a lot That's usually what happens is I maybe write two or three songs Six months go by I might write a couple more I'm not a person who can sit down and say, okay, I'm writing a song about this or that And just do it It usually happens because I'm feeling something that I can express By talking or You know, regular forms of expression So I end up writing a song about it Because I have this feeling that I have to let it out

Is it during those times when you're inspired to write? Is it either an extreme high or an extreme low in your emotional life? Either one I think sometimes some songs come out of being really depressed And feeling like, God, I have to do something about this horrible feeling You know, I mean you can't just go around feeling like that And sometimes when I'm really happy I would write a song I think when I began writing songs it was more when I was depressed Than anything else, which is why I was writing all these You know, heart sick type of things But now I'm getting to a point where I can write when I'm feeling good As well, when you're feeling down and something's bothering you That's when you have to, you feel like you have to work it out When you're feeling good, you're having a good time So you may not really need to, you know, to do anything about that I know I've gotten this as a musician You know, why do I sing all these sad songs?

Your reality is sometimes very depressing Do you ever want to sing them blues? Well, I feel like my singing has been limited a lot by my guitar playing basically And I learned to play folk guitar And at the same time I think that my voice is not really suited for something like the blues Sometimes I think I would like to get more into a jazz oriented type of thing But at the same time it's since I usually accompany myself I'm kind of limited by that factor What do you do before performance? Tell me Well, um, basically I just try to warm up by singing Going through a few songs, maybe going through some things that You know, have a wide range where I have to sing high and sing low To try and get everything warmed up a little bit I don't, I don't do exercises, you know, like we used to do in school You know, like that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that, that, stuff like that I never do that, I just maybe run through a couple of songs

You're so in Catherine, when did you write that? I wrote that at the same time I, let's see It was last fall I read this book by Nancy Price called an accomplished woman And it was a real tear-jerker at the end, I mean, I was, I was crying It was sad And I felt so bad because the book was about This woman and she was brought up By these two men out in the countryside Um, and they let her have total freedom They let her grovel around in the dirt and collect bugs And take apart car engines and whatever she wanted to do And you know, like she would say She thought that that women were driving the planes and planes would go overhead You know, and nobody ever told her, no, that's not right So she grew up thinking all these things and Different things happen in the book and she has to go out into the world and Of course, she is Comes under a lot of pressure to be like everyone else And in the end of the book, she just sort of buckles finally and says, okay, I can't hold that anymore

And she becomes like everyone else and it, it was just really sad to me because I I felt that kind of pressure when I was going up to conform And to be real feminine and I always I always wanted to, I wish that I'd had a A role model like Catherine, you know, somebody, I wish there had really been somebody who had been that way and survived You know, I wanted her to go on and win the Nobel Prize and genetic research or something like that And that wasn't the way the book ended so I really felt a sense of loss and And so that's why I wrote that song, Catherine Create your own ending in some way Yeah, it's kind of a lament Morning song, Catherine, where have you gone? Why have you lived me? Was it so hard to be yourself? Catherine, please don't desert me Do you know that I need you? These don't go away

Young up in the fields and in a sunshine Women drove the trucks and flew the place You did not understand the others You knew from the first they found you strange Catherine, where have you gone? Why have you lived me? Was it so hard to be yourself? Catherine, please don't desert me Do you know that I need you? Please don't go away

Then you left your fields and in a sunshine Ventured out into the world The people there they did not like you Women should not be so sure Oh Catherine, where have you gone? Why have you lived me? Was it so hard to be yourself? Catherine, please don't desert me Do you know that I need you? Please don't go away When you tried to return

To the places where you used to play Bound instead rows of houses Men drove the trucks and flew the plains Oh Catherine, oh Now you live alone in Perry's, your dad can do light and blaze. Flows in your hair, rings upon your face, roses smile upon your face.

Oh, can't breathe, where have you gone? Why have you left me? Was it so hard to be yourself? Can't breathe? Please don't desert me, know that I need you. Please don't go away, oh, can't breathe. Here's another song from Sue Young. This is a traditional folk song that's entitled The Cuckoo. Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty man and she warbles and she flies and she's neighbor

I've seen this cuckoo till the first day of July. Take a diamonds, take a diamonds. I know you have all your bright, purple bags, silver and purple. Where'd I go? She found mountain, oh the mountain, it is so high. I'm climbing, I've found mountain, until I reach the sky. I eat when I'm hungry and I drink when I'm dry.

There's a man that doesn't keep me and I live until I die. What I often have wanted, what makes women of men, but then I thought back, and I wanted fun makes men of men of take a diamonds, take a diamonds. I know you have all your bright, purple bags, silver and purple. Oh, the cuckoo, she's a pretty man and she warbles and she flies and she's neighbor

I've seen this cuckoo till the first day of July. I know you do a lot of music in Spanish, a lot of Spanish songs and you do them very well. Do you receive any criticism from people who are Hispanic? Well, most of the feedback that I get on as far as my singing in Spanish is very positive. Usually people are, first of all, they're really blown away by the fact that here I am with blonde hair

and I'm singing in Spanish and doing a pretty good job of it. Of course, my accent sometimes is not perfect, but it's pretty good. I've spent a lot of time studying Spanish and I don't know. I think I have a feeling for it and especially being a musician, I think that helps. Some things are interrelated and some people have even told me that I sing better in Spanish than I sing in English because I put more emotion into my music when I'm singing in Spanish. And why is that because Spanish is more emotional as a language? Yes, I think it is and I feel like I can let more of my emotions out in Spanish than I can in English. I really can. It was like when I was in South America and I got to know the people and the culture, you know, more personally, a firsthand experience. I felt free or to express my emotions and when I'm singing in Spanish, I feel like I can really, I don't know, maybe really belt it out whereas it might sound corny in English to put that much emotion into something.

Do you think that's because of the rhythm? I mean, is that what you feel about the rhythm of English? It doesn't surge forth as a language. It's more choppy. It's more of a Germanic language. Yeah, I think that Spanish is much more musical language and much more poetic and romantic. I think it also has to do with the culture. I think Spanish or the Hispanic culture is a much more emotional culture. There are a lot more physical than we are. They are always touching each other. When you meet someone on the street, you don't just say hi, you shake their hand, you kiss them on the cheek, you hug them. Here, there's not much physical contact at all. When I play just the sensual aspect of playing, of making a beautiful sound, that's one thing I try to do. One of the reasons I was so attracted to the folk protest music down in South America is that it is musically very beautiful. I think folk music has always been really close to me and something that touches me.

But yet at the same time, besides just being beautiful music, it has a very profound message and one that is very meaningful to the people who hear it. That's what really impresses me about that music because it exists on those two levels, the level of being aesthetically beautiful and at the same time having a really meaningful message. I think that's something I'm trying to move more towards in my music now. I want to talk about your South American experience a little bit more. What kind of songs, besides the one you already mentioned, what kind of songs did you sing and write during that time? How did it influence your art? Well, I'd like to talk a little bit about the music I was most into when I was down there. Of course, there's a really romantic type of music, you know, that's part of the Hispanic culture. But there's also, as far as folk music goes, there's a movement that's going on right now, a folk music movement, which is very political.

And that was what I was most attracted to. And I think that that has made me move to becoming a little more political in my own music, being exposed to that while I was down there. Although I grew up with listening to protest music in the 60s and all that sort of thing, I don't know, I think that touched me more when I was down there because I could see people who were really suffering. I mean, there's, I don't know, there's really something to protest about, as opposed to. Exactly. I mean, you know, the protest music movement in here in the 60s was really important in that, you know, it stopped the Vietnam War. I mean, that was an accomplishment. But when you look at the situation of people in this country and you look at the situation of people in third world countries, we're really a lot better off. And I feel that the protest is much more authentic down there.

And now let's go back to the International Women's Day Council on March 8th of in Santa Fe. Here's Sue Young performing live. I spent some time down in South America and in Ecuador. And I'd like to play a song that I learned while I was down there. It's a song by Chilean woman named Vila de Barra. And... She has now become somewhat of a legend in Latin America. She wrote a lot of folk music and protest music during the Ayende years. And this is probably one of her best-known songs. I'm out on a lower the bass just a little bit on that. This guitar has more bass. And this song is called, gracias a la vida. I mean, thanks to life. Thank you so much, my two heroes. And when I speak to them, I'm perfect to distinguish. Where I'm from, I'm from white.

I'm from white. I'm from white. I'm from white. I'm from white. I'm from blue. I'm from white. I'm from white. I'm from white. Who has adopted me, who has given me the sound, and at the same time, with the words that

I think of, of course, mother of my brother, and he uses the sound of the soul of the that I am loving. Thank you to the life that has given me so much, has given me the march of my brother of my brother, who has adopted me, who has given me the march of my brother of my brother, who has given me the march of my brother, and at the same time, thank you to the life that has given me so much, has given me the heart that

you have given me, when my brother fruits, he will be human, when my brother is good, when I look at the background of your clear eyes. Thank you to the life that has given me so much, has given me the laughter, and has given me the And the song of you, which is the same song, and the song of all, which is my own song. Thank you for your life.

Thank you. Well, American music right now, I feel like it's in a really stagnant period. I mean, the only innovations that we've had, except for maybe some innovations in jazz, in the last five years have been disco and punk rock. And I really can't relate to either one of those. So you feel it says American music is sort of at a low in terms of it's definitely creative lead. There's very little innovation going on right now. I feel in American music. What innovation is there going on in the world? That music in South America? To me, that's very innovative because it's taking elements from the past, it's taking traditional folk instruments, traditional folk styles of writing music and combining it with lyrics that represent that economic and social and political realities that exist now.

And to me, that's very exciting. You know, music reflects what's happening in the cultural environment. And right now, everybody is pretty much concerned with maintaining the status quo. You know, everybody's real worried about the economy. Even musicians who are writing music in order to make money? Absolutely. Maybe that's one of the reasons. Maybe the economy is one of the reasons there's less innovation going on in this country musically. Definitely. Well, I think there's just less innovation in a lot of areas. It's a period of kind of pulling back from a lot of the changes that were initiated in the 60s and early 70s. Yeah, I feel that a lot. Right now, that's pretty much what I'm doing. I'm doing copy material and I'm playing bars and clubs. I don't feel like I don't have enough original material to do all original gigs. Right. But at the same time, I try to not play the stuff that people hear on the radio.

You know? Right. Try and play something that's a little different. This is a song that I sang at the Teresa Troll concert a couple of weeks ago. And it's a take off on a Willie Nelson song. Friend of mine wrote an alternate version. And the original song is called Mama's Don't Let Your Babies Grew Up To Be Cowboys. And this version is called Cowgirls Don't Let Your Babies Grew Up To Be Mama's. And I want to explain before I do this song, because once again tonight my mother is here, that I'm not putting down mothers and I'm not putting down anyone's lifestyle. I just want to take a look at the narrow roles that mothers have been forced into in the past. Is that bass just a little boomy out there, you think? Okay, okay.

Cowgirls Don't Let Your Babies Grew Up To Be Mama's. Let them pick guitars and drive them all trucks. Let them be doctors and lawyers and surf. I just don't let your babies go up to be mama's. They're always at home and they're always alone, even with someone else. Mama's I easy love, they're so hard to hold. You cannot either love diamonds or gold. They do love the children but you must realize that there's so much more to this life.

They're born to be equal, they were born to be loved, they weren't born just to be someone's wife. Cowgirls Don't Let Your Babies Grew Up To Be Mama's. Let them pick guitars and drive them all trucks. Let them be doctors and lawyers and surf. I just don't let your babies go up to be mama's. They're always at home and they're always alone, even with someone else. Mama's I hidden from life, they're doctors doing nothing. Even barefoot and pregnant and a tear from the rest of the world.

You can teach them a clean order slave over an oven. You can learn to play bridge or sit and watch TV and they'll always be your little girl. Cowgirls Don't Let Your Babies Grew Up To Be Mama's. Let them pick guitars and drive them all trucks. Let them be doctors and lawyers and surf. I just don't let your babies go up to be mama's. They're always at home and they're always alone, even with someone else. Well, they're always at home and they're always alone, even with someone else. Thank you.

Our guests tonight on part one of New Mexico Women in Music have been composer Joanne Foreman from Dallas, an Albuquerque performer Su Young, two very different kinds of music artists who live and work here in New Mexico. Next week, our guests on New Mexico Women in Music, part two, will be Bonnie Bloom of Bonnie and the Boomerangs, who will perform Solo and Susan Patrick, a harpsichordist and musicologist. Also appearing on New Mexico Women in Music will be Magnum and Lukey, Linda Cotton and Robin Shokoski. I'm Marilyn Pittman your host, join me next Wednesday night at 10 for part two. Hope you've enjoyed tonight's program. New Mexico Women in Music is funded by Grant from the New Mexico Arts Division. This has been an Albuquerque Action Radio presentation.