"And if there's good in war and crime There may be in my bits of thyme My songs from out the slaughtermill So take or leave them as you will." Thus penned World War One poet Robert Service in his Rhymes of a Red Cross Man and thus intones the doleful, nostalgically haggard voice of Country Joe McDonald on this, his newest album. This is Country Joe's second post-Fish "project" album and is just as successful as his first, which dealt with the songs and troubadour fashionings of Woody Guthrie.

Actually, this Service-oriented disc was a long time in the making. Country Joe reveals his first introduction to the poetry of Service: "Well, after I got out of the Navy in 1961, I was living in L.A. and working in this frozen fish plant, packing and loading. Every day I'd listen to that Dylan LP with "Masters of War" on it–five times a day, for months, before and after work ... One day after work I noticed a used book store opening up, a little place with a hand drawn sign out front. I went in and saw this book, Rhymes of a Red Cross Man by Robert Service, the first thing I turned to was "The Ballad of Jean Desprez"–and it really blew my head out. So I bought the book for 20c. Meanwhile I was taking guitar lessons, going to college, getting married. One day in Berkeley. I was just messing around with my guitar when a melody came to me. For some reason. I don't know why. I thought to try the melody with "Jean Desprez." so I opened the book and started singing it. I had to do it five times before I could finish it Robin and I would always start crying three quarters of the way through it."

Service's verse is riddled with obvious rhyme schemes, cliches and a forlorn pathos, but is also, more importantly, loaded with a successful combination of emotional intensity and an aura of romanticism which Country Joe enhances musically. Throughout, this album is the faded-watercolor words of Service, the determinedly craggy voice of Country Joe with his own guitar, harmonica and occasional tambourine accompaniment. From the opening freeflow randomness of "Forward" and "The Call" to the closing apocalyptic hotter of "The March of the Dead." it is powerful stuff The simple melodies that Service's poetry seems to be written around lose all their humdrumness when one listens to the contents of his ballads The prime examples of this point are "The Man From Aphabaska" and the aforementioned "Ballad of Jean Desprez." the latter with its almost cinematic sense of character study, development and tension is capable of bringing tears to the eyes. Other cuts, such as "The Munition Makers" and "Two Twins." offer more succinct diagrams of the reality of struggle, while balance is off-handedly maintained by Country Joe's wry reading of "War Widow," accompanied only by a wiry-sounding harmonica and foot-stomping.

This album may easily be overlooked. And that would be a shame because, unlike little else these days, it goes right to the heart of the matter and forthrightly challenges the sensibilities and avocations of the current peace and freedom generation. What it all boils down to is the cons-old conflict between the subjective and the objective and, as Country Joe puts it: "... what's your own private horror about war? When they come tromping down your front lawn, what are they going to do to you that is just too horrible to think about? This stuff all taps that death fear with melodies, cliche lyrics and passe subject matter it's your own mind that makes the connections up, and brings it home right now. I'm tired of all this bullshit in the movement all these people are supposed to be into heavy stuff, well they can listen to this it'll blow their heads off." (RS 95)

GARY VON TERSCH